The Manila International Film Festival was set to open its doors to guests on 20 January 1982. The date was nearly a year to the day that strong-man Philippine President Ferdinand E. Marco had lifted his controversial eight-year term of martial law restrictions in the country. But the lifting of the martial law brought only small relief to the majority populace. ThePhilippines was still racked by issues of rampant poverty, wealth inequality and unemployment. Bothpolitical and cultural observers thought itfolly to stage such a gilded film event during this transitional period.The Associated Press reported the festival was toconvene in a building costing some 21.5 million dollars - and still under construction.The film center, designed to housescreening rooms and film laboratories,was to also serve as primary archive of Filipino cinema holdings.
The center, described as an eight-story “Parthenon-like Film Palace” was ordered to be built withinthe time of 170 construction days. In such rushed circumstance, aroof collapse occurredreportedly endingthe lives of some fourteen construction workers. The order to erect thepalatial center wasgiven by none other than Imelda Marcos, first lady of the Philippines, often chided for her “edifice complex” excesses. Many saw this wild expenditure as sorry government decision-makingconsidering the nation’s significant economic issues. But Marcos – appearing before the press in a pair of lovely pair of shoes, no doubt – saw it differently.
Marcoscountered that a strong Filipino “film industry would help reduce Manila’s crime rate, because it would give people something to do in their leisure time.” But she was also mindful that a prestigious festival might burnish her country’s damaged image worldwide – all those pesky claims of human rights violations continued to dog the regime.Though anti-Marco forces promised to disrupt the festival should it be held, the army was prepared to protect. There was, thankfully, no violence.
On 2 February 1982, a correspondent from Variety sent in a dispatch from the inaugural staging of the twelve-day festival. The report made note that Filipino film product wasn’t often seen outside the borders of the Pacific island nation. He reasoned this was due to the selling inexperience of local producers. They had worked in isolation for so long, they simply were not familiar with the film industry’s “aggressive marketing tactics.” Two months prior to the actual staging of the event, Variety described how “reluctant” Filipino producers had been invited to a seminar – one designed to stoke their “sales offensive” skills through “showmanship” tactics. But the trade sighed that despite the well-intentioned marketing teach-in, the Filipino film industry had been too long xenophobic, their business-side interest mostly “half-hearted.”
Regardless, and despite many boycotts of the Marcos-inspired event, there was a bubbling of international interest in Filipino film product. Brokers had expressed significant interest in buying distribution rights to eight of the Filipino features offered and available, the sum of those investments bringing sales of nearly a half-million dollars to local producers. Nearly 300 films had been made available to international film brokers at the event, sixty of Filipino provenance. One of the most popular Filipino films – described breathlessly as the festival’s “Top scorer by far” - was an unusual, over-the-top secret agent pastiche featuring a two-foot, nine-inch actor named Weng Wengas central hero. (Critic Alexander Walker of London’s Evening Standard would mockingly describe the diminutive Weng as “a James Bond type cut-off”). The Weng film, directed by Eddie Nicart, was mischievously titled For Y’urHeight Only, an obvious word playon the most recent James Bond screen adventure For Your Eyes Only.
I can’t say with certainty that For Y’ur Height Onlyplayed the grindhouse theaters of “The Deuce” on Manhattan’s 42nd Street, but the film would have fit in well there. It’s a spy-film fever-dream of sorts: thecrack addicts and alcoholics in the grungy red seats could awake from their own narcotic-fed hallucinations and behold images on screen even wilder beyond their own madness’s.This was James-Bond-on-a-budget.A very low budget.Weng’s “Agent 00” is even introduced via an ersatz 007 gun barrel sequence, the moment heightened by the pulsing –and very familiar – opening strains of John Barry’s “James Bond Theme.”
The film itself is all spy-film formula.For Y’ur Height Onlyopens with the kidnapping of a scientist who holds the secret formula to a coveted “N Bomb” weapon. The syndicate behind the kidnapping is led by the mysterious “Mr. Giant” who chooses to communicate withhis minions through a blinking-light, oversized facial mirror.Mr. Giant’s crime syndicate is not, all things considered, particularly political. They also dabble in street-level crimes: drugs, prostitution and theft. They’re a cabal of rogues,openly declaring, “The forces of good are our enemy and they must be exterminated.”
In reaction to the kidnapping, little-person Agent 00 (Weng, described as a “man of few words”), is summoned to report to the office of an ersatz “M.” Weng’s boss breaks down the situation before offeringthe agent a staggering number of gadgets to put to use while working in the field. These include a pen that “doesn’t write words,” a tiny jet-pack, and a razor-brim hat with boomerang-return capability. Of courseWeng manages to dutifully employall of these gadgets while targeting the evildoers: one minion remarks, inarguably, that Wengis “a one-an army,”anothertags him as the “scourge of the secret service.”
Honestly, Weng hardly requiresall the gadgetry. He parachutes from the top of a high-rise building using an ordinary bumbershoot for ballast (think Batman ’66 Penguin-style). But he more often employs his karateskills to bring down platoonsof bad guys with multiple sharp kicks to their groins.Weng also appears a lot smarter than his adversaries as well: he’salways a step or two ahead of theircounter-moves.In a filmbrimming-to-the-edgeswith non-stop action, Weng is constantly seen climbing above or understructures orsliding across floors to vanquish evil gunmen. The film reaches its climax when Weng engages in mano a mano fisticuffs with Mr. Giant, at the villain’s secret lair on a hidden island.
I believe it’s reasonable to saythat for all of its eccentric, energetic charm, For Y’ur Height Onlyis completely and utterly bonkers.It’s also a very cheap looking feature film, the settings gritty and tawdry, the scripting ridiculous. The faces of the entire cast are entirely covered in the glistening sheen of South Pacific humidity and sweat. The film’s atrocious dubbing (from native Tagalog to English) – not the fault of the original filmmakers, of course – burdens the soundtrack: an additional later ofaural nonsensetocompliment the madness on screen.Though For Y’ur Height Onlyis often categorized as an “action-comedy” the original filmmakers took exception, arguing it was no such thing. In their mind, they had made a straight-up formulaic spy film, albeit one with an unusual actor in the lead role.
Following the great reaction and interest inFor Y’ur Height Only at the Manila fest, there were discussions of grumbling embarrassment among Filipino artists and intellectuals in attendance. How could this amateurishly produced extravaganza of pure exploitative nonsense have bested the country’s more significantly erudite and artistic entries?But the film brokers at the festival weren’t highbrows. They were interested in buying cheap and making a few dollars off this novelty spy adventure. Kurt Palm of West Germany’s Repa-Film Productions,purchased the rights to For Yur Height Only(and two other of Weng’s films) for $60,000. Sri Lanka chipped in an additional $1500 for Height rights. Before the festival closed,the producers had sold export rights of Height to distributors in Belgium, France, Indonesia, Italy, Morocco, Nigeria and Switzerland, as well asa number of South American countries.Continue reading "AGENT DOWN: THE IMPROBABLE RISE AND SAD FALL OF SECRET AGENT "OO""
Vinegar Syndrome has released a special edition of the 1968 whodunnit Western "5 Card Stud". It's an unusual title for the company, which generally specializes in releasing first rate special editions of obscure cult films and vintage erotica. The film was a follow-up project between veteran producer Hal Wallis and director Henry Hathaway, who had great success with their 1965 Western "The Sons of Katie Elder" which top-lined John Wayne and Dean Martin, who were reunited six years after co-starring in Howard Hawks' classic "Rio Bravo". "Stud" is by no means a classic, but it is a highly entertaining, offbeat entry in the genre, combining traditional Western elements with the novel idea of incorporating a plot concerning serial murders. Martin plays a character with a Hollywoodish name, Van Morgan. He's a professional gambler who finances his life and travels by dressing up like a dude and finding great success in the gambling parlors of Denver. In between games, he leads a low-key life in a small town of Ricon, Colorado, which is attracting miners intent on finding gold that is rumored to in the surrounding area. When the film opens, he is embroiled in a hard-fought game of poker with local men that extends well into the night. When one of the players is revealed to be cheating, the hot-headed Nick Evers (Roddy McDowell) overreacts and gets the other men to join him in tying up the culprit, riding him out by a nearby bridge to lynch him. Van attempts to stop the hanging, but Nick knocks him out with the butt of his pistol. Not much is done about the crime, since Nick is the son of beloved local cattle baron Sig Evers (Denver Pyle), a widower who runs the ranch with Nick and his sister Nora (Katherine Justice), who are both heirs to the cattle ranch. Nora clearly is smitten by Van, who is reluctant to formally court her, given the fact that she is a decent woman and he lives a somewhat indecent lifestyle. Things kick into gear when one-by-one the men who participated in the fateful poker game are murdered.
The plot is yet another example of Agatha Christie's classic suspense novel "Ten Little Indians" having influenced films of every type of genre. However, the script by the estimable Marguerite Roberts (who would collaborate with Wallis and Hathaway the next year for the triumphant "True Grit") gives the movie an unusual angle for a Western. Roberts had adapted a little-known novel titled "Glory Gulch" by Ray Gaulden and by all accounts took liberties to improve the story substantially. The movie comes to life with the introduction of the film's most dynamic character, the Reverend Rudd (Robert Mitchum), a gunslinging preacher who arrives out of nowhere to open the town's first chapel, determined to bring God into the lives of the town's hedonistic inhabitants. Rudd is a preacher in the fire-and-brimstone tradition. He's outwardly polite but also displays a healthy dose of cynicism. When one of the murders occurs in the chapel, he teams with Van to find the culprit as each of the poker players become increasingly paranoid that they might be the next victim.
The whodunnit aspect of the script is done away with when the identity of the killer is revealed well before the climax. The villain's identity won't come as a shock to any astute viewer, but it's an awful lot of fun watching the clues unravel. Martin was criticized by some reviewers for sleepwalking through his part, but it's an unfair criticism. He gives a perfectly fine performance even if he is upstaged by Mitchum in the meatier and more interesting role. Inger Stevens, in one of her final screen roles before tragically committing suicide at age 35, appears as Lily, a local madame who moves into town with her "girls" and opens a bordello disguised as an upscale tonsorial parlor, which results in some amusing dialogue and sight gags. Van finds himself torn between good girl Nora and the exotic bad girl Lily. The film boasts a marvelous cast of beloved character actors, some of whom only have bit roles. In addition to Denver Pyle, you can relish the presence of Yaphet Kotto, who is excellent in an early career performance. Other participants include John Anderson, Ruth Springford, Roy Jenson,Whit Bissell and Hope Summers, who was a regular on "The Andy Griffith Show". The only off-key note is provided by the miscast Roddy McDowell, who plays a villain in traditional Roddy McDowell style, with a quasi-English accent and an erudite manner that doesn't fit his role as a hard scrabbled cattle rancher. Hathaway's direction is spot-on and the film also offers a quirky musical score by Maurice Jarre that seems to emulate the music found in the Sergio Leone Westerns. We even get to hear Dino warble the catchy title song.
The Vinegar Syndrome release is highly impressive, having been newly scanned and restored in 4K from its original camera negative. Aside from a blurry few seconds in the opening poker game the rest of transfer is excellent. The sleeve has very creative artwork by Tony Stella that seems to pay tribute to the Italian movie poster designs of the era. (There is also reversible sleeve artwork that shows the stars.) There's a 16-page, amply illustrated collector's booklet with an excellent and informative essay by film historian Jim Healy, who astutely points out elements of the film noir genre that are interwoven in the movie. Historian Lizzie Francke provides an excellent video essay about the dramatic life and career of Marguerite Roberts, who managed to rebound after being blacklisted during the dark days of McCarthyism. Film critic Walter Chaw provides a video essay that is devoted entirely to the life and career of Henry Hathaway, and states the obvious: he was always underrated. There is also an impressive commentary track by film book author and Cinema Retro columnist Brian Hannan, who provides plenty of very interesting insights into the making of the film and the Western genre of the 1960s. (He points out that "5 Card Stud" was quite successful at the boxoffice.) As side note, Hannan also runs the addictive blog "The Magnificent 60s".
I don't know if there will be more films of this type released by Vinegar Syndrome, but I hope this isn't an aberration and that there will be more to follow, especially if they are presented in such a fine manner.
"Sweet November", released in 1968, came and went without generating
much enthusiasm from critics or the public. Produced the estimable team
of Jerry Gershwin and Elliott Kastner, who would go on to make "Where
Eagles Dare", the film is a romantic comedy set in Brooklyn Heights,
just across the river from Manhattan decades before the area was deemed
to be hip. Anthony Newley is Charlie Blake, a stuffy British import to
Gotham who is the workaholic president of a company that manufactures
cardboard boxes. You know the type: no time for love or laughs and just
perfect to be taught a life lesson by the right girl, who, in this case,
happens to be Sara Deever (Sandy Dennis), a 23 year-old independent
young woman who meets cute with Charlie while they both are taking a
test to renew their driver's licenses. As in all such scenarios, the
small talk is awkward and Charlie finds Sara to be wacky and annoying-
before discovering that her bizarre conversations are somewhat
intoxicating. Before long, they are pals and Sara brings him to her
apartment. She explains she's an artist who has found a way to act as a
de facto repair woman for other apartment dwellers, thus supplementing
her income. She also has unusual living arrangements. Every month, she
"adopts" a new man with emotional needs who gets to live with her for a
full month, during which time she serves as an amateur psychiatrist who
documents the progress (or lack there of) in bringing the temporary man
of the house to a better status than she found him in. At the end of
every month, the male tenant must leave to make room for his
replacement. Sara can discern that Charlie is an uptight nerd who is
also frustrated poet at heart. She convinces him to be her tenant for
November. Since Charlie owns his company, he's able to take the time
off, which serves as a reminder of nice things were before E- mails and
text messages came to rule the lives of executives.
Sara's modest flat provides some amusing sight gags: her bed is
located on a shaky platform accessible only by a even shakier ladder.
However, the perks of being her "Tenant of the Month" are that you don't
have to pay rent and you get to sleep with her, though the sexual
aspect of the relationship is only hinted at. Charlie finds Sara to be a
handful in terms of personality quirks. She has an opinion on
everything and likes to play "Mother Hen", advising her tenants about
how to improve their lives. Gradually, Charlie becomes intoxicated by
her innocence and good nature. She's Holly Golightly on steroids, as she
inspires him to explore his creative impulses, shed his business attire
and dress in the currently mod styles. Sara introduces Charlie to her
best friend, Alonzo (nicely played by Theodore Bikel), an artist and
local activist who serves as a father figure to her. Before long,
Charlie is madly in love with Sara and dreads the day when his eventual
departure will have to occur in order to accommodate her next tenant.
Until this point, "Sweet November" plays out like a sitcom of the era,
albeit with some nice footage of Brooklyn. Director Robert Ellis Miller
often encourages his stars to overplay the "cutesy" elements of their
characters. Sara is almost pretentiously quirky and Charlie displays a
fey personality and habits that were mostly associated with
stereotypical gay characters of the era. However, Herman Raucher's
script takes a somber turn in the last third of the film as Charlie
desperately convinces himself that Sara loves him as much as he loves
her. A dramatic twist is introduced that leads to a genuinely touching,
if unexpected finale. As the script grows darker, the two leads have
more to work with. Dennis brings a sensitivity to her performance as the
ultimate liberated woman and Newley (who generally displays more ham
than your local supermarket) eventually reigns in his comedic mannerisms
and redeems himself by making Charlie a more sympathetic figure.
"Sweet November" has all the trappings of a stage play that was
adapted to a film. In fact, it is not, although one can easily see it
translated into a theater production, as most of the scenes take place
in an apartment. The script was considered to be a hot property back in
the day and Audrey Hepburn was said to have been interested in starring
in the film. It enjoyed a prestigious opening at Radio City Music Hall
but critics were dismissive of the movie, though the influential New
York Times almost begrudgingly acknowledged a positive recommendation.
The film quickly disappeared until 2001 when it was remade starring
Keanu Reeves and Charlize Theron, though that film failed at the
boxoffice as well. Despite its unenviable legacy, "Sweet November" is a
touching film that will probably please most retro movie lovers. It is
currently available as a region-free DVD through the Warner Archive.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM THE CINEMA RETRO MOVIE STORE
A dissatisfied housewife brings home a stranded alien and
gradually falls in love, high school students live in fear after a beautiful student
is found dead, her back snapped across the gymnasium balance beam, a young teen
dates the enigmatic daughter of a mad scientist, in one town aliens have
actually become part of the community and started attending the local school, a
late-night DJ picks up signals from across space which appear to be from his
recently abducted wife, the real Creature from the Black Lagoon finds himself
working in Hollywood and falling for Julie Adams, teens on Lover’s Lane find
themselves fighting back against a potential alien invasion, and mysterious
video tapes show the real Bela Lugosi in films made by Ed Wood that cannot
possibly exist, given that he had died years before.
This new collection of stories by Dale Bailey (some of
which were previously published in magazines including Asimov’s Science
Fiction and Lightspeed) draws on his own memories of half-watched movies
on late-night TV and reading articles in Fangoria. Perhaps because of
this many of the stories are told as if distant, troubling memories are being
reluctantly recalled. Although the cover art may suggest a fun,
nostalgia-tinged trip back to the fifties, these are stories infused with loss,
grief and melancholy; one man recalls visiting his dead brother’s apartment in
Hollywood, trying to understand how they drifted apart, another, whose wife has
been missing since he claims to have witnessed her being taken up into the sky,
can no longer fully connect with the people around him, a young wife lives in a
trailer park struggling to overcome the tragedy of her baby daughter dying just
minutes after birth, and the Creature tries to reconcile his feelings for Julie
Adams with his desperate need to return to the swamps. These are people whose
lives have not turned out the way they had hoped, trying to understand and come
to terms with their frightening, life-changing experiences. Yet at the same
time, Dale, not forgetting what most of us are here for, combines B-movie
tropes and titles such as ‘Invasion of the Saucer-Men', ‘The Ghoul Goes West’, ‘Night
Caller from Outer Space’ and ‘I Was a Teenage Werewolf’, with humour,
real-world heartbreak and longing.
This hardback collection, published by Electric
Dreamhouse, is a wonderful read for any classic movie fan. Each story is
accompanied by a suitably pulpy illustration (dome-headed aliens, slavering
werewolves and pulchritudinous heroines appear to be Sheady’s specialty), and
the book cover is a work of art in itself, packed with imagery from many
drive-in movies, and not just those referenced in the book. These are stories
that will linger in your mind long after reading, much like the tragic tales
themselves have lingered in the minds of their respective narrators.
Burt Reynolds had been gnawing around the boundaries of genuine stardom for more than a decade, starring in short-lived television shows and top-lining "B" movies. He ingratiated himself to the American public by showcasing his wit and comedic abilities by appearing on chat shows. In 1972, he struck gold when director John Boorman cast him opposite Jon Voight as the two male leads in the sensational film adaptation of James Dickey's "Deliverance". Finally, he could be classified as a major movie star. Soon, Reynolds was cranking out major films even while his uncanny ability to publicize himself resulted in such stunts as his famed provocative centerfold pose in Cosmopolitan magazine. On screen, Reynolds sensed that he could cultivate an especially enthusiastic audience if he catered to rural movie-goers. He was proven right with the release of "White Lightning", a highly enjoyable 1973 action/comedy that perfectly showcased Reynolds' favored image as a handsome, unflappable hero with a Bondian knack for tossing off quips while facing death and also engaging in good ol' boy towel-snapping humor. Playing bootlegger Gator McClusky, Reynolds drew major crowds, very much pleasing United Artists, which enjoyed hefty profits from the modestly-budgeted production. Reynolds learned, however, that his audience wouldn't necessarily follow him if he deviated from that image. When he went against the grain in films like "The Man Who Loved Cat Dancing", "At Long Last Love" and "Lucky Lady", the movies bombed. When he stuck to the basics, he had hits with "Shamus", "The Longest Yard" and "W.W. and the Dixie Dance Kings". The legendary Variety headline that read "Hix Nix Stix Pix" was no longer true. The American heartland loved Burt Reynolds, especially when he played characters that rural audiences could embrace.
In 1976, Reynolds fulfilled another career milestone by directing his first feature film, a sequel to "White Lightning" titled "Gator". Like the first movie, it was shot entirely on location in Georgia and picked up on the adventures of everyone's favorite moonshiner. When we first see Gator in the sequel, he his getting out of jail only to be targeted by the feds to be used as a pawn in a multi-state crackdown on an epidemic of political corruption that threatens the career of the self-serving, ambitious governor (played very well by famed chat show host Mike Douglas in his big screen debut.) Gator is living in a shack located deep in an inhospitable swamp with his elderly father and precocious 9 year-old daughter when the feds launch a major raid to arrest him on moonshining charges. In reality, they want to use the warrant as leverage to convince him to go undercover for them inside the crime ring. Gator wants no part of it and leads the feds on a merry chase around the bayou in which he is pursued by speed boats and helicopters before finally relenting. The lead federal agent in charge is Irving Greenfield (Jack Weston), an overweight, hyper-nervous Jewish guy from Manhattan who has the unenviable task of ensuring that Gator follows orders. A good portion of the film's laugh quotient comes from Irving's less-than-convincing attempts to "blend in" with small town southern locals. The crime ring is run by Bama McCall (Jerry Reed), an outwardly charming and charismatic fellow who, in reality, uses brutally violent methods to ensure loyalty and intimidate local businessmen to pay protection money. He and Gator are old acquaintances and he doesn't hesitate to give Gator a good-paying job as an enforcer for his mob. Things become more intriguing when Gator sets eyes on Aggie Maybank (Lauren Hutton), an attractive local TV anchor with liberal political beliefs that find her squaring off against Bama in order to protect the poor merchants he is exploiting. "Gator" proceeds on a predictable path but its predictability doesn't detract from its merits, which are considerable. Reynolds is a joy to watch and it's small wonder he leaped to the top ranks of cinematic leading men. His cocky, self-assured persona served him well on the big screen and "Gator" is custom-made to please his core audience. He also proved to be a very able director, handling the action scenes and those of unexpected tragic twists with equal skill. He also gets very good performances from his eclectic cast, with Weston engaging in his usual penchant for scene-stealing. Reed also shines in a rare villainous role and ex-model Hutton proves she has admirable acting chops, as well. The action scenes are impressive thanks to the oversight of the legendary Hal Needham, who would forge a long-time collaborative relationship with Reynolds.
The Kino Lorber Blu-ray is a reissue with extras from the 2018 release ported over. The new additional material consists of a commentary track by film historians Steve Mitchell and Nathaniel Thompson, who also provide a new track on the KL reissue of "White Lightning". The track is quite valuable and entertaining, as old pros Mitchell and Thompson provide a wealth of interesting facts and observations about the film. For example, they discuss that "Gator" is far lighter in tone than the revenge thriller "White Lightning" and say that Reynolds thought the script for "Gator" was sub-par but did the film on the proviso he could direct it. The disc is also impressive not only because of the excellent transfer but also because it contains a filmed interview with Reynolds, who extols the film's virtues and its personal meaning to him. In an unusually candid conversation, he divulges amusing anecdotes about Hutton's on-set quirks that included a penchant for exhibitionism (she would flash her breasts to appreciative crew members.) He also relates how a car crash stunt almost killed Hal Needham. Most poignantly, he talks about his personal affection for Georgia, a state he has filmed over twenty movies in. He also candidly expresses his regret that only directed a few films and never fulfilled his dream of directing productions he didn't star in. The Blu-ray set also includes a new gallery of trailers for Reynolds films available from KL. In all, a highly impressive release of an action film showcasing Reynolds at his best. Recommended.
Alan
Ladd and Geraldine Fitzgerald are American agents in the newly-formed WWII era spy
agency “O.S.S.,” on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber. Ladd is Philip Masson, an agent
in the recently formed Office of Strategic Services. The head of the spy group
is Commander Brady, played by Patric Knowles, who sends Masson and several
other agents on their first mission to German occupied France in 1942. Their
mission is to blow up a railway tunnel using plastic explosives and connect
with the French Resistance. Along the way they encounter Nazis, French
collaborators and informants. Joining Mason is Ellen Rogers played by Fitzgerald
and they meet up with fellow OSS agents Robert Bouchet, AKA Bernay the radio
operator, played by Richard Benedict, and Rodney Parrish, AKA Gates, the leader
of Team Applejack, played by Don Beddoe.
Philip
and Ellen have assumed new identities as John Martin, a pipe smoking laborer (his
pipe is a nifty gadget that turns into a gun), and Elaine Duprez, a visiting
artist. Gates is captured and killed by the Gestapo soon after the team parachutes
into France. Gates outs himself at a restaurant by using his fork and knife in
the wrong hand moving Philip into the leadership position. Philip becomes
romantically interested in Ellen which is complicated by the arrival of a local
German commander, Colonel Paul Meister (played by John Hoyt making his screen
debut) who is also interested in “Elaine,” after he asks her to create a bust
of himself. Soon he asks “Elaine” to join him on a trip via rail which will take
them through the tunnel they are sent to destroy.
Working
alongside Commander Brady in England is Gloria Saunders as Radio Operator
Sparky. She receives and sends coded messages with Bernay and they quickly form
a friendship. A local Gestapo agent, Amadeus Brink (played by Harold
Vermilyea), discovers the plot, and provides cover for the team of saboteurs as
long as his extortion demands are met. The bust created by “Ellen” is made of
the plastic explosives and this is used to destroy the railway tunnel. Philip
rescues Elaine during the chaos of the explosion and after they escape she
tells him, “Never come back for me again.”
Ladd,
Fitzgerald, Hoyt and Knowles are all terrific, as is the supporting cast. The
movie is dark, intense and a very good spy thriller making good use of light
and shadows. The film was directed by Irving Pichel, who is known for such
genre favorites as “The Most Dangerous Game,” “She,” “Mr. Peabody and the
Mermaid” and “Destination Moon” spanning the 30s, 40s and 50s. The screenplay
by Richard Maibaum was a forerunner to his work in the James Bond series
produced by Albert R. Broccoli and Harry Saltzman starting with the 1962
release, “Dr.r No” and continuing through “Licence to Kill” in 1989.
The
cinematography by Lionel Lindon is a highlight, as much of the action takes
place either at night or in dimly- lit rooms and the aforementioned tunnel.
Lindon was cinematographer or director of photography on the movies “Around the
World in 80 Days,” “Casanova’s Big Night,” “Dead Heat on a Merry-Go-Round,” “Going
My Way,” “Grand Prix, “The Manchurian Candidate,” “My Favorite Brunette,” “Submarine
Command,” and TV series episodes for “Alfred Hitchcock Presents,” “M Squad,” “McHales’s
Navy” and “The Munsters,” to name just a few of his many credits which spanned decades.
Released
by Paramount in May 1946, the movie was made with the approval and support of
the O.S.S. and definitely can be viewed as government propaganda, but it’s much
more than that. The disc features a fascinating audio commentary track by Samm
Deighan which is chock full of interesting information of the origins of the
O.S.S., spy movies and the post WWII communist and Hollywood blacklist. The
movie looks and sounds terrific in glorious black and white clocking in at 108
minutes. The disc also features the trailer for this and other Kino Lorber
titles. “O.S.S.” is highly recommended for fans of Alan Ladd, spy thrillers and
WWII drama.
When
I was in college, my friend Bill Davis and I spent nearly half a day one
Saturday from 11 a.m. to 9 p.m. at a local movie theatre for a ten-hour
marathon. The lineup included Sergio
Leone’s “A Fistful of Dollars,”
“For a Few Dollars More,” and “The Good, the Bad,
and the Ugly,” capped with Clint Eastwood’s American Western, “Hang ‘Em High,”
an attempt to replicate the Italian filmmaker’s violent, gritty style. It was the equivalent of binge-watching in
those long-ago days, before home video and streaming services made it easy to
access older films. To revisit favourite
movies in that Neolithic age, you had to hope they would return for second- or
third runs on the big screen, or wait until they resurfaced on TV in visually
degraded, ad-infested prints. The fact
that the Leone movies were still pulling in healthy ticket sales on rerun, four
years after their initial U.S. release, attests to their popularity. Aside from special events like the periodic
return of “Ben-Hur” or “The Ten Commandments,” the only other pictures with the
same level of second-run durability at the time were the first five James Bond
features with Sean Connery.
The
initial success and ongoing appeal of the Leone trilogy prompted Hollywood to
import other Spaghetti Westerns in hopes of matching (or at least approaching)
the same level of commercial success. The era ran from 1968 to the mid-1970s, surviving even the U.S.
box-office disaster of Leone’s fourth Western, “Once Upon a Time in the
West.” The operatic epic starring
Charles Bronson, Henry Fonda, and Jason Robards was lamely marketed here as a
conventional Western, baffling fans of John Wayne and “Gunsmoke.” Adding insult to injury, it suffered
wholesale cuts that rendered entire sections of the story incoherent. On smaller investments, more modest
imitations in the mode of “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly” fared better. One such picture was Giuseppe Colizzi’s
Western, I quattro dell'Ave Maria, a tremendous hit in
Europe. The Italian title cryptically
translates to “The Four of the Hail Mary,” which sounds more like a farce about
comedic nuns than a Western. Paramount
Pictures (the same studio that, ironically, mishandled “Once Upon a Time in the
West”) wisely retitled the production “Ace High” for U.S. release.
In
Colizzi’s film, bounty hunters Cat Stevens (Terence Hill) and Hutch Bessy (Bud
Spencer) ride into El Paso with $300,000 in stolen money recovered from train
robber Bill San Antonio. They intend to
turn in the money and claim a hefty reward. The Bill San Antonio back story referred to Colizzi’s previous Western
with Hill and Spencer, “God Forgives . . . I Don’t!” (1967; U.S. release,
1969), but you needn’t have seen the predecessor to get up to speed. Cat and Hutch discover that the bank
president in El Paso was Bill San Antonio’s partner, not his victim, and
instead of settling for the reward, they demand the entire $300,000, else
they’ll expose the banker’s secret. In
turn, the banker approaches an outlaw, Cacopoulos (Eli Wallach), who sits in
jail waiting to be hanged the next morning. He offers to free Caco (as the scruffy felon is called) if he’ll kill
Cat and Hutch.
This
being a Spaghetti Western, a genre that reveres double-crosses like no other,
thanks to the template set by Leone, Caco correctly guesses that the banker
plans to do away with him too, as soon as the bounty hunters are out of the
way. Grabbing the $300,000, he flees
town on his own quest for vengeance. The
money will finance his long-delayed pursuit of two former friends, Paco and
Drake, who left him to take the fall for a heist years before. Cat and Hutch follow after him to reclaim the
$300,000. Caco finds Paco south of the
Border, presiding over the summary execution of rebellious peons, and Drake
(Kevin McCarthy, in hardly more than a brief guest appearance) as the owner of
a lavish gambling house on the Mississippi. Drake is still a crook who swindles his rich patrons with a rigged
roulette wheel. Along the way, Caco and
the bounty hunters befriend a Black high-wire artist, Thomas (Brock Peters),
whose talent is pivotal for the bounty hunters’ scheme to break into the
impregnable casino to take control of the wheel and clean Drake out. Italian viewers probably realized that Caco,
Cat, Hutch, and Thomas were “the four of the Hail Mary” in Colizzi’s original
title, planning their break-in as Caco fingers his rosary. Following Sergio Leone’s lead, the Italian
Westerns loved to tweak Catholic piety.
Colizzi
also dutifully copies other elements of the Leone playbook, especially those
featured in “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.” Alliances are made to be broken, greed and expediency always overrule
loyalty, and the sins of thieves and hired killers are dwarfed by the inherent
corruption and callousness of society as a whole. But Colizzi’s cynicism seems superficial
compared with Leone’s, and his violence toned down. In the Leone movies, showdowns are “hideous
fantasies of sudden death,” to quote the late film critic Bosley Crowther, in
which the losers literally line up in groups to be gunned down. When my friend Bill and I watched the Leone
marathon all those years ago, we counted a hundred casualties even before we
were well into the third feature, “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.” In one gunfight in “Ace High,” Hutch, Cat,
and Thomas simply shoot the hats off their opponents’ heads, the kind of
slapstick more likely to appear in a comedy Western with Bob Hope or Don
Knotts. The final shootout with Drake
and his henchman is a parody of Leone’s showdowns, which invariably were
choreographed to Ennio Morricone’s dramatic music. Caco has dreamed for years that his reckoning
with his traitorous partner would be accompanied by “slow, sweet” music, and so
Cat and Hutch order Drake’s house orchestra to play a waltz as the “Four of the
Hail Mary” square off against Drake and his henchmen. On one hand it’s a clever idea for viewers
who recognise the joke, but on the other, it trivialises the revenge motif in a
way Leone never would have.
In
another connective thread with “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly,” Eli Wallach’s
scruffy character is virtually a clone of his bandit “Tuco” from the Leone
epic, even to a nearly identical name. But Leone shrewdly counter-balanced Wallach’s manic performance with
Eastwood’s laconic presence and Lee Van Cleef’s steely menace. In “Ace High,” Colizzi already has two
mismatched characters who play off each other—Terence Hill’s terse, handsome
Cat and Bud Spencer’s burly, grouchy Hutch. Wallach is mostly left to his own Actors Studio devices of grins, tics,
and swagger, which is good for fans who couldn’t get enough Tuco but not so
good for others who just want the story to move on. Tied up by villagers who intend to torture
him to learn the location of his stolen $300,000, Caco relates a long,
soporific account of his childhood. The
scene serves a dramatic purpose, since Caco is trying to lull a drowsy guard to
sleep, but it goes on and on. You’re
likely to nod off before the sentry does.
“Ace High” is
available in a fine Blu-ray edition from Kino Lorber Studio Classics, offering
Colizzi’s film at the correct 2.35:1 ratio in a rich Technicolor transfer. Films like this always looked good on the big
screen, but most casual fans probably remember them instead from lousy,
pan-and-scan TV prints in the old days. The Blu-ray includes the original trailer, plus trailers for several
other Spaghetti Westerns released by KL. The company’s go-to expert on the genre, Alex Cox, contributes a new
audio commentary. Cox has always been
forthright in his dour opinion of directors like Giuseppe Colizzi, Gianfranco
(Frank Kramer) Parolini, and Giuliano (Anthony Ascott) Carnimeo, who turned the
Italian Western in the direction of burlesque in the late 1960s, and away from
the gritty style of Sergio Leone, Sergio Corbucci, and Sergio Sollima. But his comments on “Ace High” are
even-handed, informative, and entertaining.
“YOU
AREN’T REALLY ANYBODY IN AMERICA IF YOU’RE NOT ON TV”
By
Raymond Benson
While
Nicole Kidman had been working in films since the late 1980s and starred in two
big movies with future husband Tom Cruise in the early 1990s, for this reviewer
it was 1995’s To Die For that proved to the world that Kidman could hold
her own and carry a movie alone. Even with an impressive body of work that
would continue to today, To Die For can easily be listed as one of the
actor’s best works.
To
Die For is
based on a 1992 novel by Joyce Maynard, which, in turn, was a fictionalized
improvisation on the true-crime murder-for-hire case of Pamela Smart. The
murder of Smart’s husband by teenagers who were, as it turned out, hired by
Smart herself, was sensational TV fodder in 1990-1991. The keywords of
“sensational” and “TV” become the thematic concepts of Buck Henry’s adaptation
of the novel that turns the tabloid tale into an acerbic dark comedy about the
lust for fame and the means by which some people might employ to get it.
Gus
Van Sant directs the film with a bravura collage of styles that molds the story
into something of a mockumentary. Actors address the camera as if they are in a
television reality program (something that was just beginning to take off in
those years). Videotape footage mixes with film stock, emphasizing the fine
line between Suzanne Stone’s reality and fantasy life on television.
Stone
(Kidman) is a drop-dead gorgeous young woman with big ambitions. She wants fame
and fortune by being a television personality, and once she sets out to
accomplish that goal, her little hometown in New Hampshire will never be the
same. First she seduces and marries Larry (Matt Dillon), the son of Italian
parents who may or may not have connections to the mob. Larry is in a
successful restaurant business, so he has enough money to keep Suzanne in
style. Next, she finagles her way into the local cable TV news station, run by Ed
(Wayne Knight). When she begins a personal video project at the local high school,
she attracts the attention of three juvenile delinquents—Lydia (Alison
Folland), who isn’t a bad person but is sadly trapped in a “white trash” world,
Russell (a young Casey Affleck), the true bad-news of the trio, and Jimmy (a
young Joaquin Phoenix), who is short on brains but long on libido. Suzanne, who
feels resistance from Larry regarding her dreams to leave town and head to Los
Angeles where she’s convinced she can make it big, decides to seduce poor Jimmy
and get him and his friends to bump off Larry. To reveal more, which indeed
differs from the true case of Pamela Smart, would spoil the “fun.”
Yes,
“fun” it is. This is a comedy, folks. Sure, it’s a pretty dark one, but the
team of Van Sant and Henry make sure that this sordid little fable is told with
tongue-in-cheek. It’s also somewhat of a cautionary tale, warning us that what
we see on television isn’t always the truth. Those beautiful people on the
screen who anchor the news, interview celebrities, or present the weather are
not gods and goddesses. It’s one thing to work toward a career in television
with determination… it’s another thing altogether to think of that career as a
Xanadu in which everyone is rich and famous.
Nicole
Kidman is superb in To Die For. She’s funny, sexy, and at times very
scary. Kidman plays this madwoman to the hilt and she’s the backbone of the
movie. Apparently the role was first offered to Meg Ryan, who turned it down.
Kidman, however, takes it and delivers an exhilarating star turn. Phoenix, in
one of his early appearances, also makes an impression. At the time, who knew
that he would one day be a multiple Oscar contender and ultimate winner? The
same is true of Affleck. Other notable actors in the movie include Illeana
Douglas as Larry’s sister, Dan Hedaya as Larry’s father, and Kurtwood Smith and
Holland Taylor as Suzanne’s parents. The film also sports a few interesting
cameos: Joyce Maynard, the novel’s author, appears as Suzanne’s lawyer; Buck
Henry is a high school teacher; George Segal is a lecherous network executive;
and David Cronenberg (!) is a hitman.
The
Criterion Collection’s 2-disk package presents the film in a new 4K digital
restoration, approved by Van Sant and director of photography Eric Alan Edwards.
It comes with a 5.1 surround DTS-HD Master Audio soundtrack (and it makes Danny
Elfman’s lively score sound really good!). The first disk is the picture
in 4K UHD with Dolby Vision HDR. The second disk is a Blu-ray and the special
features. Disappointingly, there isn’t much in the way of supplements. An audio
commentary featuring Van Sant, Edwards, and editor Curtiss Clayton is good
enough. The only other extras are some deleted scenes (some of which
tantalizingly depict how the film might have had alternate endings) and the
theatrical trailer. An essay by film critic Jessica Kiang accompanies the
booklet.
To
Die For is
for fans of Nicole Kidman, Joachin Phoenix, and the caustic mind of Buck Henry.
Here's a gem from the web site studdblog.blogspot, which specializes in reproducing old newspaper ads of local American theaters from decades past. This one comes from the Sky Vue Drive-in, though we aren't sure where it was located. This particular double-feature combines two Sean Connery films- the latest (at the time in 1971) James Bond blockbuster "Diamonds are Forever" paired with Connery's ill-fated but impressive historical Arctic adventure "The Red Tent". According to the ad, Connery's co-star in the latter film was the legendary "Claudia Capdinale"! (As publishers, we sympathize with anyone who has to deal with typos!) Most impressive was the ticket price: two major films for $1.25. That was a bargain even in 1971!
The first African-American to direct a major film for a Hollywood
studio was Gordon Parks, whose feature film debut "The Learning Tree"
was released in 1969. Parks may have shattered the glass ceiling but
there wasn't a tidal wave of opportunities that immediately opened for
other minority filmmakers, in part because there were so few with any
formal training in the art. One beneficiary of Parks' achievement was
Ossie Davis, who was internationally respected as a well-rounded artist.
He was a triple threat: actor, director and writer but his directing
skills had been relegated to the stage. In 1970 Davis co-wrote the
screenplay for and directed "Cotton Comes to Harlem", a major production
for United Artists. The film was based on a novel by African-American
writer Chester Himes and proved to be pivotal in ushering in what became
known as the Blaxploitation genre. In reality, it's debatable whether
"Cotton" really is a Blaxploitation film. While most of the major roles
are played by Black actors, the term "Blaxploitation" has largely come
to symbolize the kinds of goofy, low-budget films that are fondly
remembered as guilty pleasures. However, "Cotton"- like Gordon Parks's
"Shaft" films which would follow- boasts first class production values
and top talent both in front of and behind the cameras. Regardless, the
movie had sufficient impact at the boxoffice to inspire a seemingly
endless barrage of Black-oriented American films that were all the rage
from the early to mid-1970s. The Blaxploitation fever burned briefly but
shone brightly and opened many doors for minority actors.
The film was shot when New York City was in the midst of a
precipitous decline in terms of quality of life. Crime was soaring, the
infrastructure was aging and the city itself would be on the verge of
bankruptcy a few years later. Harlem was among the hardest hit areas in
terms of the economy. The once dazzling jewel of a neighborhood had
boasted popular nightclubs, theaters and restaurants that attracted
affluent white patrons. By the mid-to-late 1960s, however, that had
changed radically. Street crimes, organized gangs and the drug culture
spread rapidly, making Harlem a very dangerous place to be. It was
foreboding enough if you were Black but it was considered a "Forbidden
Zone" for most white people, who spent their money elsewhere, thus
exacerbating the decline of the neighborhoods. "Cotton Comes to Harlem"
serves as an interesting time capsule of what life was like in the area,
having been shot during this period of decline. Director Davis was
considered royalty in Harlem. Despite his success in show business, he
and his equally acclaimed wife, actress Ruby Dee, never "went
Hollywood". They stayed in the community and worked hard to improve the
environment. Thus, Davis was perfectly suited to capture the action on
the streets in a manner that played authentically on screen. Similarly,
he had a real feel for the local population. As with any major urban
area, Harlem undoubtedly had its share of amusing eccentrics and Davis
populates the movie with plenty of such characters.
The film opens with a major rally held by Rev. Deke O'Malley (Calvin
Lockhart), a local guy who made good and who is idolized by the
population of Harlem. O'Malley is a smooth-talking, charismatic con man
in the mode of the notorious Reverend Ike who uses religion as a facade
to rip off gullible followers. This time, O'Malley has launched a "Back
to Africa" campaign for which he is soliciting funds. It's based on the
absurd premise that he will be able to finance disgruntled Harlem
residents back to the land of their ancestry. The hard-working,
semi-impoverished locals end up donating $87,000 in cash but the rally
is interrupted by a daring daytime robbery. An armored car filled with
masked men armed with heavy weaponry descend upon the goings-on, loot
the cashbox and take off. They are pursued by two street-wise local
cops, "Grave Digger" Jones (Godfrey Cambridge) and his partner "Coffin"
Ed Johnson (Raymond St. Jacques). Davis provides an exciting and
colorful car chase through the streets of Harlem, as the cops fail to
snag the robbers. They also discover that O'Malley has gone missing,
leading them to believe that he orchestrated the heist himself so he
could keep the proceeds raised at the rally. The plot becomes rather
convoluted, as Jones and Johnson learn that a bale of cotton has arrived
in Harlem and its somehow connected to the crime. They assume that the
stolen money has been stashed in said cotton bale, which quickly changes
hands among the most unsavory characters in the community. Getting in
on the action is a white mob boss and his goons who are also trying to
recover the cotton bale. The cotton itself is resented in Harlem because
of its historical links to slavery and by the end of the film, the bale
ends up in a stage show at the famed Apollo Theater where it is used as
a prop in a bizarre production that involves historical observations
about the black experience intermingled with a striptease act! Through
it all, Jones and Johnson doggedly chase any number of people through
the streets, engage in shoot-outs and car chases and come in and out of
contact with Rev. O'Malley, who professes his innocence about being
involved in the robbery. The Rev isn't so innocent when it comes to
other unscrupulous activities such as chronically cheating on his
long-suffering girlfriend Iris (Judy Pace) and manipulating other women
in a variety of ways.
The most delightful aspect of the film is the showcasing of some very
diverse talents of the era. Godfrey Cambridge (who made it big as a
stand-up comic) and Raymond St. Jacques enjoy considerable on-screen
chemistry even if the script deprives them of the kind of witty dialogue
that would have enhanced their scenes together. They make wisecracks
all the time and harass some less-than-savory characters but the
screenplay never truly capitalizes on Cambridge's comedic potential. The
film's most impressive performance comes from Calvin Lockhart, who
perfectly captures the traits of phony, larger-than-life "preachers".
He's all flashy good looks, gaudy outfits and narcissistic behavior.
Lockhart seems to be having a ball playing this character and the screen
ignites every time he appears. There are some nice turns by other good
character actors including pre-"Sanford and Son" Redd Foxx, who figures
in the film's amusing "sting-in-the-tail" ending, John Anderson as the
exasperated white captain of a Harlem police station that is constantly
on the verge of being besieged by local activists, Lou Jacobi as a junk
dealer, Cleavon Little as a local eccentric, J.D. Canon as a mob hit man
and Dick Sabol as a goofy white cop who suffers humiliation from
virtually everyone (which is sort of a payback for the decades in which
Black characters were routinely used as comic foils). The film has a
surprisingly contemporary feel about it, save for a few garish fashions
from the 1970s. It's also rather nostalgic to hear genuine soul music
peppered through the soundtrack in this pre-rap era. Happily, life has
not imitated art in the years since the film was released. Harlem has
been undergoing the kind of Renaissance that would have seemed
unimaginable in 1970. The old glory has come back strong and the center
of the neighorhood, 125th Street, is vibrant and thriving once again.
These societal perspectives make watching "Cotton Comes to Harlem"
enjoyable on an entirely different level than simply an amusing crime
comedy.
The film is currently streaming on Screenpix, available for subscription through Amazon Prime.
"I Love You, Alice B. Toklas" might leaving contemporary viewers asking "Who is Alice B. Toklas?" The answer: she was a companion of writer Gertrude Stein. Toklas was a fellow writer who became idolized by pop culture addicts for daring to have written a cookbook that included a recipe for pot brownies. The 1968 big screen farce was anything but fun to make. Paul Mazursky and Larry Tucker were to have made their directorial debuts with this film. However, once Peter Sellers was signed to star, the mercurial and unpredictable actor had them bounced from the directors chair(s), though their screenplay was retained. Shortly after production began, Sellers brought Mazursky back on board to offer advice about salvaging a production that Sellers was growing increasingly leery about. The truce was short-lived because Mazursky criticized the way Sellers played a love scene with Leigh Taylor-Young, who made her big screen debut in the film. Mazursky was fired again as the film hobbled through production under the direction of Hy Averback. Sellers was apparently also feuding with his wife, Britt Ekland, who was simultaneously filming "The Night They Raided Minsky's" against Sellers' wishes.
The story presents Sellers as Harold Fine, an L.A. lawyer and self-described "square". He is courting his law firm's secretary, Joyce (Joyce Van Patten), an amiable bubble-head who constantly pressures Harold into proposing to her. He finally relents and a wedding date is set, much to the delight of Harold's parents (amusingly played by Jo Van Fleet and Salem Ludwig). In the meantime, Harold finds himself unexpectedly immersed in the local hippie culture when his car is damaged and he finds the only accessible vehicle is a flower-powered decorated loaner he gets from the repair shop. At the same time, his hippie brother Herbie (David Arkin) introduces him to the gorgeous Nancy (Leigh Taylor-Young), a free-spirited young woman who indulges in drugs and free love. Harold finds himself smitten by her and when she leaves him some pot-laced brownies, it results in the film's funniest scene in which Harold ends up serving them to his parents and Joyce, resulting in the kind of over-reaction one might attribute to a tab of LSD. Nevertheless, it is quite an amusing segment. Ultimately, Harold leaves Joyce at the synagogue seconds before taking the vow of marriage. He dashes home and vows to start a new life with Nancy. Before long, he is sporting long hair, mod eyeglasses and is living in his car. It seems perfect until the screenplay predictably delves into one of those scenarios in which the motto is "Be careful what you wish for- you just may get it!".
Sellers is the glue that holds the fragile premise together, even if his American accent slips every now and then. Taylor-Young makes for a lovely leading lady and Joyce Van Patten is stuck in the role of constantly jilted lover who craves Harold no matter how many times he humiliates her. Unfortunately, the premise wears thin pretty quickly and the movie is never as funny as it should be or you expect it to be. In fact, it bears a certain resemblance to Blake Edwards' "The Party", which was released the same year. Both films were based on an initially funny scenario that ultimately ran out of steam as the movie wore on. At the time, Roger Ebert reviewed the film favorably but pointed out that it was another example of a Hollywood studio punting when it came to presenting the hippie culture and depicting the rebellious young people as sanitized caricatures. Perhaps the biggest laugh to be had was by Paul Mazursky, who would direct the smash hit "Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice" the following year, thus establishing himself as a major name in the film industry.
The region-free Warner Archive boasts a fine transfer. The only bonus feature is the trailer.
I
have never understood religious cults, and I still don’t. How someone can
permit themselves to be brainwashed into following a self-appointed “religious
leader” and hang on their every word represents, to me, a soul searching for acceptance
or love that they believe has been denied them. My initiation into the existence
of cults was in the December 4, 1978 issues of both Time Magazine and Newsweek
Magazine. Their reports about the Jonestown murders in Guyana, which completely
shocked my sensibilities with images of dead adults and children lying face
down in filth, were the stuff of nightmares. This horrific event has spawned
books, documentaries, and jokes about “drinking the Kool Aid” when referencing one’s
blind commitment to a ridiculous situation. An article two months later in my
local newspaper about “witches,” pagan practices, bowls of blood and animal
ribcages in the woods less than ten miles from where I lived did little to assuage
my fears about them. David Koresh, the leader of the religious sect
referred to as the Branch Davidians, led his followers into the Mount Carmel
Center, a compound in Waco, Texas, which culminated in a standoff with law
enforcement in April 1993 with most of them dying in a storm of bullets and
fire. NXIVM, the organization founded by Keith Raniere five years later
masquerading as a self-help and personal development program group, came under
fire for being a cult following reports of sex trafficking of branded women.
Hollywood is no stranger to films about such
subjects. Most of them are cut from the cloth of genre and horror films. Split
Image (1982) is a bit of a different take on this terrifying subject as
seen through the eyes of suburbanites and therefore is far more relatable. Directed
by Ted Kotcheff between April and June in 1981 just before he unleashed John
Rambo on the world with his phenomenal First Blood, also released in
1982. Split Image was originally reported on under the title of Captured
when it was featured in the wonderful but short-lived bi-monthly movie magazine
published in 1982 called “Coming Attractions.” I saw the film on CED Videodisc nearly
40 years ago and was amazed at how little I recalled of it.
Danny Stetson (Michael O’Keefe of Lewis John
Carlino’s 1978 film The Great Santini) is a parallel bars athlete eyeing
college. He lives with his parents Kevin and Diane (Brian Dennehy and Elisabeth
Ashley) and younger brother Sean (Ronnie Scribner of Tobe Hooper’s 1979 TV-Movie
Salem’s Lot) in a sprawling house like the killer’s in Dario Argento’s Tenebrae
(1982), complete with large see-through windows and a built-in pool. By chance
he meets a beautiful young woman named Rebecca (Karen Allen of Steven
Spielberg’s Raiders of the Lost Ark in 1981) who engages in small talk about
big subjects. Accompanying her to a weekend outing, he is introduced to scores
of people at a retreat called Homeland who welcome him with open arms –
literally – and who all chant and engage in reciting positive affirmations while
discussing Jungian archetypes such as the duality of man. The happy and joyous
atmosphere completely rubs him the wrong way when he meets the group’s leader,
Neil Kirklander (played wonderfully by Peter Fonda), but he stays and sleeps on
the premises and one night makes a break for freedom. Bill Conti’s score here
is recognizable as the precursor to his wonderful score to Robert Mandell’s
thriller F/X (1986). Confronted by Kirklander, he eventually falls under
his spell and informs his mother that he will not be coming home. He undergoes
a ritual whereby he renounces his identity as Danny and is reborn as “Joshua,”
prompting a visit from his parents that results in a near donnybrook
precipitated by his temperamental father.
Split Image, which opened in New York on Friday, November 5,
1982, does a decent job of exploring the practice of capturing and “deprogramming”
an individual who has fallen under the spell of a cult and this is done by
Charles Pratt (played by the incomparable James Woods) who, somehow, makes his
living “deprogramming” people. After kidnapping “Joshua” with his parents’
permission, he forces him to undergo “treatment” to bring “Danny” back to life.
Many of these scenes look as though they came out of a horror film, and it
makes one wonder how much of this was imagined by the writers and how much is
based on factual circumstances such as this. The film looks at the ethics of “interventions”
and how it can alter a person’s free will and their ability to make their own
choices. Like Irwin Winkler’s At First Sight (1992), it waivers between
being compelling and occasionally feels a little “TV Movie of the Week”-ish by
today’s standards.
The film is now available from Kino Lorber on
standard Blu-ray. Some of the shots within the house appear to be a little
darker than they should be, but it is probably just how the film was shot. Mr.
Kotcheff does an expert job of framing the film for 2.35:1 anamorphic
photography, which is a huge step up from the pan-and-scan transfer of the
early 1980’s.
This is a sparse disc in the way of extras, however
the major one is the feature length audio commentary by film historian and filmmaker Daniel Kremer who
mentions his own movie, Raise Your Kids on Seltzer (2015), which is
about retired “deprogrammers”. When I was in middle school, Ralph L. Thomas’s
1981 film Ticket to Heaven appeared in my Weekly Reader issue and
I had a much different idea of what that film was about. It turns out that
deprogramming is the theme, and Mr. Kremer also mentions Blinded by the
Light, which was released in 1980, and starred both Kristy and Jimmy
McNichol, directed by cinematographer John A. Alonzo. This is a very
entertaining and informative commentary which also touches on Mr. Kotcheff’s
other films and placing him into the auteur category.
The
Blu-ray also comes with the following trailers: Split Image, Gorky
Park, 52 Pick-Up, The Bedroom Window, The Wanderers,
and The Hard Way.
“Tales
of Adventure Collection 2,” a special edition, Blu-ray box set from
Australia’s Imprint Films, gathers five movies from the 1940s and ‘50s with
“wild and dangerous” jungle settings. To
the best of my memory, I don’t recall seeing any of them among the scores of
jungle pictures I enjoyed as a kid in the ‘50s and early ‘60s, either on the
big screen or on local TV morning movie matinees. Of the five diverse selections in the Imprint
box set, three are Republic Pictures productions, the fourth is a Paramount
release, and the fifth bears the Columbia Pictures logo. All five feature superior transfers (the
three Republic entries are transfers from 4K scans of the original negatives)
and captions for the deaf and hard of hearing, and four of them come with
excellent audio commentaries. Younger
viewers be aware, the films tend to reflect attitudes about race and
conservation that were commonplace seventy years ago, but frowned upon today;
you won’t see anything remotely like Black Panther’s democratic technocracy of
Wakanda here.
The
older two Republic releases, both in black-and-white and paired here on one
disc, underscore the studio’s reputation as a purveyor of lowbrow entertainment
with stingy production values. “Angel on
the Amazon” (1948) begins with Christine Ridgeway (Vera Hruba Ralston) trekking
through the Amazon jungle with safari hat and rifle, stalking panthers. It promises (or threatens, if you’re a
conservationist) to become a film about big-game hunting, where wild animals
exist to be turned into trophy heads. But
then Christine’s station wagon breaks down, and she radios for help. Pilot Jim Warburton (George Brent) flies in
with the needed carburetor part, just in time for the party to escape from
“headhunters.” This may be the only
jungle movie in history where rescue depends on a delivery from Auto Zone. Jim is enchanted by Christine, but she has
something to hide and refuses to warm up to his advances. Later, meeting Jim again in Rio de Janeiro,
she becomes frightened when an elderly, apparently harmless man watches her
from a distance. As film historian
Philippa Berry notes on the informative audio commentary for the Blu-ray, the
answer to the mystery revolves around the then-popular theme of physical
effects from psychological trauma, here given a mystical and somewhat absurd
twist. The studio-bound sets and back
projection that waft the characters from the Amazon to Rio and then to
Pasadena, California, are charmingly phoney. George Brent and two other fading co-stars from the 1930s, the
aristocratic Brian Aherne and Constance Bennett, stoutly maintain straight
faces in the backlot rain forest.
“Daughter
of the Jungle” (1949) is even more formulaic, as a young blonde woman raised in
the jungle comes to the aid of pilot Paul Cooper (James Cardwell), a policeman,
and two gangsters in the lawman’s custody when their plane crashes somewhere in
Africa. Called Ticoora by the local
tribe, she is actually Irene Walker, who was stranded with her millionaire
father in their own plane crash twelve years before. As film historian Gary Gerani notes in his
audio commentary track, Ticoora is one of a long line of virginal jungle sirens
in movies that range from the ridiculously sublime, like 1959’s “Green
Mansions,” to the sublimely ridiculous, like 1983’s “Sheena, Queen of the
Jungle.” She can summon elephants with a
Tarzan-like yodel that recalls Carol Burnett’s parodies on her old TV
show. As Ticoora leads the party to
safety, the oily head gangster, Kraik, schemes a way to claim her inheritance,
which awaits in New York. Some viewers
will see Kraik, played by the great Sheldon Leonard with a constant volley of
“dese, dose, and dem” insults, as the only reason to stay with the movie’s plod
through lions, gorillas, crocodiles, and indigenous Africans played by white
actors in greasepaint. Others (I plead
guilty) tend to view unassuming, ramshackle pictures like this one more
leniently, providing we can accept if not endorse their racial attitudes as a
product of their times. Consistent with
Republic’s nickel-and-diming on its B-feature releases, especially those made
in the late ‘40s, the more spectacular long shots of Ticoora swinging from
vines in her above-the-knee jungle skirt were recycled from one of the studio’s
earlier releases. In those scenes, it’s
actually Francis Gifford’s stunt doubles in the same outfit from the 1941
serial “Jungle Girl,” not Lois Hall who plays Ticoora in the new footage. Gary Gerani’s audio commentary provides lots
of information about the cast, including the two obscure leads, Lois Hall and
James Cardwell. Gerani points out that
the Blu-ray print, from the original negative, presents the movie’s full
80-minute version for the first time ever. The 69-minute theatrical release in 1949 omitted some B-roll filler and
some scenes where Paul woos Irene. More
action, less kissy, was crucial for encouraging positive playground
word-of-mouth from sixth graders in the audience—the pint-sized forerunners of
today’s Tik-Tok influencers.
The
third movie retrieved from Republic’s vaults, “Fair Wind to Java” (1953), was
one of the studio’s intermittent efforts to offer more expensive productions in
living Trucolor, with a rousing Victor Young musical score, to compete with
major postwar costume epics from the MGM and Paramount powerhouses. Ironically, Paramount now owns the rights to
Republic’s home video library. In 1883
Indonesia, New England sea captain Boll (Fred MacMurray) picks up the trail of
lost diamonds also sought by a pirate chief, Pulo Besar (Robert Douglas). Obstacles include the pirates, some scurvy
knaves in Boll’s own crew, Dutch colonial authorities, and the fact that the
only person who can direct Boll to the treasure is dancing girl Kim Kim (Vera
Hruba Ralston), who has only an imperfect memory of the route from her
childhood. Substitute Indiana Jones for
Captain Boll, and you’d hardly notice the switch. It turns out that the gems are hidden in a
temple on Fire Island—unfortunately for the captain, not the friendly enclave
of Fire Island, N.Y., but the volcanic peak of Krakatoa. Will Krakatoa blow up just as the rival
treasure hunters make landfall there? Are you kidding? The script doesn’t disappoint, and neither do the FX by
Republic’s in-house technical team, Howard and Theodore Lydecker. A former ice skating star who escaped
Czechoslovakia ahead of the Nazis, Ralston was the wife of Republic studio head
Herbert J. Yates and widely derided as a beneficiary of nepotism who couldn’t
act her way out of an audition. She was
still a punch line for comics in the 1960s, long after most people had
forgotten the point of the joke. In
reality, both here and in “Angel on the Amazon,” she is an appealing performer,
no more deserving of ridicule than other actresses of her time with careers
mainly in escapist pictures. The sultry
but vulnerable Kim Kim was the kind of role that Hedy Lamarr might have played
under other circumstances. Ralston’s
performance is at least as engaging, and she looks mighty nice in brunette
makeup and sarong.
If
you first met Fred MacMurray as the star of “My Three Sons,” as I did as a kid,
it may take some adjustment to see him in action-hero mode. It’’s no big deal when Dwayne Johnson or
Jason Statham slings a bandolier over his shoulder or has his shirt torn off in
a brawl with a pugnacious sailor . . . but Fred MacMurray? When Boll ponders whether or not to trust his
shifty first mate Flint (John Russell), it’s a little like MacMurray’s suburban
dad asking Uncle Charlie if he should trust Robbie and Chip with the family
car. John Wayne was originally
envisioned for the role, following his starring credit in a similar Republic
production, “Wake of the Red Witch,” but MacMurray wasn’t completely out of his
element, having played lawmen and gunslingers in several Westerns before his
sitcom days. Frankly, it’s fun to see
the normally buttoned-down actor shooting it out with the pirates and racing a
tsunami. Imprint includes another
excellent commentary, this one by historian Samm Deighan. As she notes, colourfully mounted and briskly
scripted movies like this were designed to attract the whole family in those
days before Hollywood marketing fractured along lines of audience gender, age,
and race. As she observes, Junior might
not recognise the sado-sexual elements of the scene where Pulo Besar’s burly
torturer (played by Buddy Baer!) strips Kim Kim and plies his whip across her
bare back. All in a day’s work in the
dungeon. But dad likely would have sat
up and paid close attention.
Only
a year later (1954), Paramount’s “Elephant Walk” furthered Hollywood’s trend of
filming exteriors for its more prestigious movies in actual overseas locations
rather than relying on studio mockups, as “Fair Wind to Java” did. Ruth Wiley (Elizabeth Taylor at her most
luminous) travels to Ceylon (now Sri Lanka) with her new husband John (Peter
Finch), the charming and prosperous owner of a tea plantation. Initially, Ruth is enraptured by the lush
countryside and John’s bungalow, Elephant Walk, actually a mansion almost as
large as Grand Central Station and a lot more lavish. But trouble portends as Ruth realizes that
the memory of John’s imperious father Tom, reverently called “the Governor” by
John and the other British residents, still pervades and controls the
household. The elderly head steward,
Appuhamy (Abraham Sofaer), is quietly hostile when Ruth questions the need to
continue running the house exactly as it was run in the Governor’s day. In trying to communicate with the other
indigenous servants and workers, she runs into the barriers of language and
culture. The estate itself, complete
with Old Tom’s mausoleum in the backyard, is built across an ancestral path the
native elephants still try to use as a short cut to their watering holes. Hence its name. Wiley keeps the peripatetic pachyderms out
with a wall. His plantation manager
(Dana Andrews) is more sympathetic to Ruth, and the two fall in love as the
increasingly surly John lapses back into old habits of drinking all night with
rowdy fellow expatriates who camp out in the sprawling mansion. Andrews’ character is named “Dick Carver,”
the kind of name you’re not likely to see on credits anymore outside
Pornhub. I wonder if some moviegoers in
1954 found it funny too?
If
the combination of shaky marriage, illicit affair, and luxurious colonial life on a jungle plantation sounds
familiar, you may be thinking of “Out of Africa” (1985) or the less
romanticised “White Mischief” (1987), the latest examples of this particular
jungle sub-genre of domestic drama in the tropics. As Gary Gerani points out in his audio
commentary, enthusiasts of melodrama will also cry “Rebecca!” in the subplot
about the shadow that “the Governor’s” pernicious, posthumous influence casts
over the married couple. The movie’s
lush Technicolor palate, William Dieterle’s sleek direction, the special FX of
an elephant stampede, Edith Head’s ensembles for Liz, and Franz Waxman’s
symphonic score have an old-fashioned Hollywood polish, shown to good effect on
the Blu-ray. But as Gerani notes, the
script by John Lee Mahin, based on a 1948 novel, offers an implicit political
commentary too. As viewers of “The
Crown” know, British rule was already crumbling in the Third World in the early
1950s and would soon fall, just like Wylie’s wall faces a renewed assault by
drought-stricken elephants in the final half hour of the movie. Thanks to the capable cast, glossy production
values, and a script that takes interesting, unexpected turns, I liked
“Elephant Walk” more than I thought I would.
Terence
Young’s “Safari” (1956) from Columbia Pictures begins with a jaunty title song
to a percussive beat that wouldn’t be out of place in “The Lion King”—“We’re on
safari, beat that drum, / We’re on safari to kingdom come”—leading you to think
that the picture will be a romp like “Call Me Bwana” (1963), “Clarence the
Cross-Eyed Lion” (1965), or the last gasp of jungle comedies so far, “George of
the Jungle” (1997). But the story takes
a grim turn almost immediately. An
American guide and hunter in Kenya, Ken Duffield (Victor Mature), is called
back from a safari to find his 10-year-old son murdered and his home burned by
Mau Mau terrorists. He determines to
find and kill the murderer, Jeroge (Earl Cameron), a formerly trusted servant
who, unknown to Duffield, had “taken the Mau Mau oath.” The British authorities revoke Duffield’s
license to keep him from interfering with their attempts to apprehend Jeroge
and the other culprits, but then they hand it back under pressure from Sir
Vincent Brampton (Roland Culver), who comes to Africa to kill a notorious lion
called “Hatari.” “You know what ‘Hatari’
means, don’t you?” Duffield asks. “It
means danger”—the very tagline used for Howard Hawks’ movie of the same name a
few years later. Coincidence? Brampton is a wealthy, borderline sociopathic
bully who makes life miserable for his finance Linda (Janet Leigh) and
assistant Brian (John Justin), and Duffield doesn’t much care for him
either. But the millionaire insists on
hiring Duffield as the best in the business, and the hunter uses the safari as
a pretext for pursuing Jeroge into the bush. The script juxtaposes Duffield’s chase after Jeroge with Brampton’s
determination to bag Hatari, but the millionaire is such an unpleasant
character (well played by Culver) that most of us will hope the lion wins.
This
was one of the last “big bwana” movies where no one thinks twice about killing
wild animals for sport, and viewers sensitive about the subject may not share
Sir Vincent’s enthusiasm for Ken Duffield’s talents, or the production’s
matter-of-fact scenes of animals collapsing from gunshots. The political material about the Mau Maus is
a little dicey too; the Mau Mau insurrection of 1952-60 was more complicated
than the script suggests. Poster art for
the movie, reproduced on the Blu-ray sleeve, depicts a fearsomely painted
African. Actually, it isn’t a Mau Mau
but a friendly Massai tribesman; Linda makes the same mistake in the movie
before learning that the Massai have agreed to help Duffield track Jeroge. Squirm-worthy dialogue occurs as well, when
Duffield and Brampton alike refer to the hunter’s African bearers and camp
personnel as “boys.” But Terence Young’s
brisk, muscular direction on outdoor locations in Kenya is exemplary, and the
CinemaScope vistas of Kenya in Technicolor are sumptuous. This was one of Young’s four projects behind
the camera for Irving Allen and Albert R. Broccoli’s Warwick Films, preceding
Broccoli’s later partnership with Harry Saltzman when the producers engaged
Young to direct the inaugural James Bond entries. For 007 fans, it may be heresy to suggest
that his work on “Safari” equals that on his best Bond picture, “From Russia
With Love,” but so be it. The Imprint
Blu-ray doesn’t contain an audio commentary or other special features, but the
hi-def transfer at the 2.55:1 widescreen aspect ratio is perfect.
“Tales
of Adventure Collection 2” contains the four region-free Blu-ray Discs in a sturdy
hardbox, illustrated with a collage from the poster art for the five movies in
the set. Limited to a special edition of
1,500 copies, it can be ordered HERE. (Note: prices are in Australian dollars. Use currency converter for non-Australian orders.)
"Number One" (released in certain
countries under the title "Pro") is an off-beat vehicle for Charlon Heston, who was then at his peak of popularity. The fact that the
movie under-performed at the box-office and failed to score with
critics didn't diminish Heston's status as a leading man. He would go on
to star in such hits as "The Omega Man", "Skyjacked", "Soylent Green"
"Earthquake", "Midway"and "Airport '75"- with cameos in the popular "The
Three Musketeers" and "The Four Musketeers". The poor response to
"Number One" doesn't diminish its many merits - and the fact that Heston
was willing to play against type in a largely unsympathetic role. For
the film, he reunited with director Tom Gries, with whom he made the
acclaimed 1968 Western "Will Penny". Curiously, both movies center on
the same theme: a macho man who can't come to grips with the fact that
he is aging and, therefore, his chosen way of life is threatened. In
"Will Penny", Heston played the title character: a middle-aged cowboy
who feels the inevitable aches and pains of trying to maintain a career
that is clearly suited for younger men. Similarly, in "Number One" he
plays "Cat" Catlan, a star quarterback for the New Orleans Saints
football team. Catlan has seen plenty of fame and glory as the team's
Golden Boy and the idol of the crowds. But now he is 40 years old and,
although still in Herculean physical condition compared to most men his
age, he's fallen victim to the constant brutalities he suffers on the
field.
The film opens on a particularly disastrous game in which Catlan
makes some serious misjudgments about plays and bungles some key passes.
The result is an embarrassing loss for the team. The Saints' gruff
coach Southerd (John Randolph) isn't ready to give up on Catlin but
seemingly every other team member is. Catlan is subjected to some cruel
jokes and he has to contend with the fact that a much younger player
(Richard Elkins) is breathing down his neck, hoping to replace him as
quarterback. Things aren't much better at home for Catlan. His
long-suffering wife Julie (Jessica Walter) patiently endures his
mysterious absences, unpredictable mood swings and volatile temper. She
is a very successful fashion designer but Catlan is "old school" when it
comes to the role of wives. He wants Julie to stay home and cater to
his needs. In the midst of one of their frequent fights, he even stoops
so low as to cruelly tease her about her inability to conceive a baby.
Still, she sticks with him even when he confesses to having an affair
with an attractive, self-made woman, Ann (Diana Muldaur). Faced with the
fact that his career is winding down, Catlan reluctantly explores his
options for his post-NFL life. They aren't very enticing. His best
friend Richie (Bruce Dern), is an obnoxious former Saints player who
brags about having gotten out of the game at age 34. He now runs a very
successful car leasing business and lives a playboy lifestyle. He wants
Catlan to work for him, a prospect that doesn't sit well with the aging
quarterback. He also gets an offer from a computer company to work for
them but the idea of dealing of being surrounded by machines in the
confines of an office is repugnant to him. Ultimately, Catlan is
inspired by his wife to go out on a high note. During one of their rare
moments of domestic detente, she convinces him that he still has some
good games in his future if he can shake off the funk and get his
confidence back. The film's climactic game is the very definition of
mixed emotions. Catlan performs well and has his mojo back but the
movie's ambiguous final shot is anything but uplifting.
Tom Gries was a good director for Heston. He somehow managed to tamp
down Heston's larger-than-life personality and afford him the
opportunity to play everyday men. In "Number One", Heston is subject to
the sorts of problems that plague most middle-aged men. He's nervous
about his future. He often takes his frustrations out on the people
closest to him. He tries to reassert his youth by exerting his sexual
prowess through having an affair. Throughout it all, Heston admirably
does not try to make Catlan into a hero. There is a level of sympathy
accorded to him because of the emotional and physical stress he is under
but his sheer disregard for others makes him more a villain than a
hero. (He even refuses to give fans his autograph). Even worse is his
sheer selfishness in how he deals with his wife's needs. He feels
threatened by the success she is enjoying in her own career and
therefore diminishes her achievements. Heston gives one of his finest
performances, ironically, in what was one of his least-seen films.He
gets able support from the woefully-underrated Jessica Walter, whose
performance a couple of years later in "Play Misty For Me" should have
assured her of major stardom (and an Oscar nomination). Director Gries
also utilizes the talents of real-life football players, some of whom
exhibit impressive acting skills. Diana Muldaur also excels as the siren
who lures Catlan into her bed. There is an air of authenticity to the
film, primarily because Gries shot much of it in front of packed
stadiums. (Cinematographer Michael Hugo's work is especially
impressive). Gries also captures the feel of New Orleans back in the
day, capitalizing on the local scenery, jazz clubs and even getting the
great Al Hirt to perform a number and do a bit of acting. About the only
dated aspects of the film concern the off-the-field activities of the
NFL players. Catlan complains that they are paid like peasants, which
was probably true in 1969, but is a rather laughable notion today. Also,
the NFL team is required to wear jackets and ties when traveling to or
leaving the stadium, another rule that would be virtually unenforceable
by contemporary standards.
"Number One" never found its audience in 1969 but hopefully retro movie lovers appreciate its
merits. Th film did have at least one critic who appreciated the movie and Heston's
performance. Writing in the New York Times, critic Howard Thompson
wrote: "Charlton Heston, minus a beard, a loincloth, a toga or the Red
Sea, tackles a starkly unadorned role in one of the most interesting and
admirable performances of his career. If Heston could have been better, we
don't know how." Our sentiments exactly.
The film is currently streaming on Screenpix with an add on subscription for Roku and Amazon Prime subscribers.
"RETRO-ACTIVE: AN ARTICLE FROM THE CINEMA RETRO ARCHIVES"
By Doug Oswald
Released
as a burn-to-order DVD from the Universal Vault Series, some may be quick to add
that they should have kept "The Conqueror" in the vault. The movie is notorious
for being one of the worst movies in Hollywood history. Much has been written
about how terrible this movie is so I'm going to avoid jumping on that
bandwagon. After all, calling this movie bad is like calling out water for
being wet.
The
movie is also a part of a conspiracy theory of sorts because many of the cast
and crew died from cancer and some have connected those cancer deaths to the
location filming in St. George Utah which was the stand-in for the Gobi Desert.
St. George is downwind from where the above ground nuclear testing occurred in
Nevada. Indeed, many involved with this movie did succumb to cancer including lifetime
smoker John Wayne who also denied any connection between his cancer and the St.
George location filming.
The
CinemaScope widescreen image for "The Conqueror" looks terrific and has an
appropriately grand score by Victor Young. The movie stars John Wayne and Susan
Hayward and features some of the best character actors of the era including
Pedro Armendariz, Agnes Morehead, Thomas Gomez, William Conrad and Lee Van
Cleef. If only the movie was the western it tries so hard to be rather than a 13th
century historical epic taking place in Central Asia.
Apparently,
nobody was more surprised than former actor and director of "The Conqueror", actor
Dick Powell, when the Duke insisted on playing the lead. When asked by reporters
during production how Wayne looked as Genghis Kahn, Powell replied, "Murderous.
Just murderous." I'd say murderous for the viewer too. While there's a lot of
ethnicity in the cast (Native American Indians from a local reservation were
hired as extras to portray the Mongolian hordes in the movie) it's hard to
believe that they couldn't cast a single Asian actor in this movie.
The
movie pulled in a healthy profit world-wide for RKO at the time of its initial
release in 1956, but it was critically panned and is difficult to watch. "The
Conqueror" was a personal favorite of the movie's eccentric producer Howard
Hughes who owned RKO at the time and pulled the movie from theatrical and TV distribution.
Apparently Hughes watched the movie over and over again, but it was not seen by
mortal men again until 1974 after the rights reverted to Paramount. This was the
final movie that Hughes personally produced and some may say it would have been
better if he had destroyed the negatives and all copies of the movie.
"The
Conqueror" was previously released by Universal in 2006 as part of the, "An
American Icon: John Wayne 5 Movie Collection" DVD set. That release included
the trailer, subtitles and chapters. This burn to order release appears to be produced
from the same source material because it looks and sounds identical, but includes
no extras and the movie starts up immediately after loading. "The Conqueror" is
a rare turkey for the Duke, as most of his post-"Stagecoach" output is very
watchable. It's a must-see for die-hard fans of the Duke and when hosting movie
nights where you want guests to leave early.
By the time Burt Reynolds finally starred in the 1972 classic
"Deliverance", he had been paying his dues in Hollywood for many years
with varying degrees of success on television. His feature films,
however, were strictly "B" grade. Saul David, who produced a 1970 film
starring Reynolds titled "Skullduggery", bemoaned at the time that he
should have been a major movie star but bad luck seemed to always
interfere. Reynolds wisely cultivated an image as a hip, towel-snapping
wiseguy through appearing on seemingly every American game and chat
show. His appearances on "The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson" merited
"must-see TV" status. Ironically, "Deliverance" entirely abandoned this
popular image of Reynolds and afforded him a dramatic role that he
fulfilled with excellent results. But the success of the film made
Reynolds anxious to prove he could sustain his boxoffice clout without
the help of a strong co-star, in the case of of "Deliverance", Jon
Voight. Reynolds chose wisely for his follow-up feature. "White
Lightning" was developed under the working title "McClusky". The role of
a hunky, charismatic southern good ol' boy fit Reynolds like a glove
because it allowed him to incorporate his penchant for performing stunts
with his flippant, wise-cracking TV persona.
Filmed in Arkansas, the movie finds Reynolds as "Gator" McClusky, a
man doing prison time for running illegal moonshine. Gator still has
another year to spend on the prison farm when he gets word that his
younger brother has been murdered. (We see the scene play out over the
opening credits in which two young men are brutally drowned in a swamp
by the local sheriff, J.C. Connors (Ned Beatty) and his deputy.) Enraged
and spoiling for revenge, Gator accepts a deal to work undercover for
federal agents to expose Connors as the local Huey Long-type power
broker in Bogan County. Indeed, the seemingly affable, understated
Connors runs the entire county like a personal fiefdom, using extortion,
shakedowns and outright murder to ensure his stature. He also gets a
piece of the action from the very moonshiners he's supposed to
prosecute. Gator feels uncomfortable working as a snitch but it's the
only way to find out why his brother was killed and to bring Connors to
justice. Using his considerable charm and his background as a guy from a
small rural community, he finds himself quickly working for a moonshine
ring headed by Big Bear (R.G. Armstrong), who is brutal in retribution
against anyone who crosses him. Gator is assigned to deliver moonshine
with a partner, Roy Boone (Bo Hopkins). They spend a lot of time
together and become fast friends, even though Roy's hot-to-trot
girlfriend Lou (Jennifer Billingsley) succeeds in seducing Gator, thus
endangering his mission when Roy gets wind of the deception. When Gator
learns the reason why his brother and his friend were murdered, he
becomes even more vengeful, leading to a spectacular car chase involving
Connors and his corrupt deputies.
"White Lightning" was directed by Joseph Sargent, who was primarily
known for his work in television. He fulfills the requirements of the
film quite well, though the spectacular car chases and jaw-dropping
action scenes were largely the work of legendary stutman/coordinator Hal
Needham, who would go on to work on many films with Reynolds. The film
is consistently lively but it also has moments of poignancy and drama.
The supporting cast is terrific with Ned Beatty of "Deliverance"
reuniting with Reynolds with good results. Beatty underplays the sense
of menace attributable to his character. He also plays up his status as a
pillar of the community, tossing off barbs about how hippies and big
city liberals threaten "our values" and-worst of all- encourage "our
coloreds to vote!". Meanwhile, he is heading up a vast criminal
enterprise. Jennifer Billingsley is wonderful as the lovable air-headed
seductress who will jump into bed with a man if there's a prospect of
getting a new dress out of the bargain. There are also fine turns by Bo
Hopkins, R.G. Armstrong and Diane Ladd (whose name in the opening and
closing credits is misspelled as "Lad". Ouch!) The movie turned out to
be a big hit for United Artists, aided in part by striking ad campaigns
with the same weapon-as-phallic symbol design employed for Richard
Roundtree's "Shaft's Big Score" the previous year coupled with another
poster showing Reynolds behind the wheel of a speeding car. Sex and
speed became hallmarks for promoting a Reynolds action movie.
Kino Lorber has reissued their 2019 Blu-ray edition, which is
first-rate in all aspects, with a fine transfer and a 2014 interview
with Burt Reynolds, who looks back fondly on the importance the movie
had on proving he could be top-billed in a hit movie. The film initiated
his association with rural-based comedies and action films and three
years later, a successful sequel ("Gator") would be released. Reynolds
also drops the interesting fact that this was to be Steven Spielberg's
first feature film. However, Reynolds says the young TV director got
cold feet about his ability to film on so many difficult locations,
given that his background was largely working in studios. Reynolds
praises his co-star Ned Beatty and reminds everyone that "White
Lightning" was only his second film, having made his screen debut in
"Deliverance". He is also very complimentary towards Jennifer
Billingsley and regrets that she never became a big star. Reynolds also
discusses Hal Needham's zealousness for performing dangerous stunts and
relates how one key scene in which a car shoots out over water to land
on a moving barge almost went disastrously wrong. He says the film has a
realistic atmosphere because of the screenplay by William W. Norton,
who adapted many aspects of his own hard scrabble life. The only
negative note Reynolds sounds is about Diane Ladd, who he cryptically
says he did not like working with, although he doesn't go into detail as
to why.The set includes a new feature not available on the previous
Blu-ray release: a commentary track by film historian collaborators
Steve Mitchell and Nathaniel Thompson. As far as commentary tracks are
concerned, the duo are always terrific and this outing is no exception.
Their easy-going, laid-back and humorous style is appropriate for the
tone of the film. They go into great detail about aspects of the and
cast. I hadn't realized until listening to the track how on-the-mark
they are in assessing Ned Beatty as an actor whose physical appearance
varied dramatically depending upon the type of story he was cast in.
Indeed, they are correct. The evil good ol' boy corrupt sheriff of
"White Lightning" is light years away from the fish-out-water rape
victim of "Deliverance" or the demagogic TV executive of "Network". The
track is good enough to merit upgrading to this version of the Blu-ray
even if you have the previous release.
The Blu-ray also includes the original trailer, which was very
effective in playing up Reynolds' emerging star power and reversible sleeve art showing an alternative ad campaign. Highly
recommended.
If you're an Amazon Prime subscriber and in the mood to watch 2/3 of a terrific crime thriller, by all means check out "The Outfit", written by Graham Moore and Jonathan McLain. The production marks the directing debut of Moore, who won the Best Adapted Screenplay Oscar for his 2015 WWII spy thriller "The Imitation Game". Why do I refer to this as "2/3 of a terrific crime thriller"? I shall explain later. For now, let's examine the creative set-up of the film's plot. It is set in Chicago in 1956 and all of the action takes place inside a "Bespoke" tailor shop owned by Leonard Burling (Mark Rylance), a Brit who emigrated to Chicago right after WWII. The "Bespoke" aspect of his shop refers to a quaint term that indicates this isn't the place to buy off-the-rack suits. Rather, Leonard, who was Savile Row-trained, prides himself on creating custom-made duds for discriminating men of means. The shop is a dark, somewhat foreboding place and Leonard spends most of his days (and nights) obsessing over his latest masterworks in the back room. His only employee is his Girl Friday (to use an appropriately quaint term) Mabel (Zoey Deutch), a young woman who he takes a paternal interest in looking after. Leonard is affronted by being confused with a tailor and quickly points out that he is a professional cutter, a status that can only be achieved through years of apprenticeships and hard work.When asked if the destruction from the Blitz on London inspired his immigration to America, he quips that it wasn't and that his real enemy was the public's embracing of bluejeans. (It makes for a clever line, though, it's not accurate as bluejeans were certainly not a fashion rage during the 1940s.)
This seemingly unexciting setting is soon revealed to be a bastion of secrets. It seems that Leonard's best customer is a local mob kingpin, Roy (Simon Russell Beale), who has appropriated the shop as a communications hub for the wiseguys in his employ. Throughout the day and night, the gangsters drop off coded messages that are then picked up by other gangsters. In return for this cooperation, Leonard has become the preferred clothier for the nattily-dressed crooks. Two of the more frequent visitors to his shop are among the least welcome: Roy's son Richie (Dylan O'Brien) and his fellow mobster Francis (Johnny Flynn). The two are like brothers and share a penchant for cruelty, as evidenced by the fact that they constantly insult Leonard by not even addressing him by his name, opting instead to call him "English". Leonard keeps his head down and bears the humiliation. What else can he do? These are real-life killers with itchy trigger fingers. In the first of a number of revelations, Leonard learns that Richie is in a romantic relationship with Mabel. He knows she is making a mistake but she can't be dissuaded. Richie is handsome, exciting and has all the appeal of the trademark "bad boy" lover. The less divulged about the plot of a thriller, the better for prospective viewers. However, a few plot points need to be discussed. At one point during this seemingly endless evening, Francis returns to the shop with a seriously wounded Richie, who has been shot by a rival gang. He can't bring Richie to a hospital for fear of police involvement. Instead, he forces Leonard to remove the bullet and stitch up Richie using his tailoring instruments. It makes for a tense, suspenseful scene. Later, Roy arrives at the shop looking for a major character who has gone missing. What he doesn't know is that the person is dead and is being concealed in a large trunk in the very room. Adding to the drama is the revelation that the F.B.I. has secretly recorded incriminating conversations, which sets everyone off on a frenzied search for the tape before the rival gang obtains it. It makes for some genuine slow-boiling tension.
Until this point, about 2/3 of the way through the film, things have been going swimmingly as director Moore keeps the pace measured and the suspense building- and then...then...in the immortal words of Yeats, "Things fall apart." Revelations are made by so many people in such a frenzied manner that the scenario become unintentionally funny and more appropriate for a "Naked Gun" script. It seems that Moore the screenwriter is intent on undermining Moore the director. There are inexcusable cliches. For example, the script invokes my warning of what I call the "Bear Trap Scenario". This occurs in any film in which a bear trap is shown early in the story in a seemingly innocuous manner only to be used by someone as a weapon later in the story (See "Straw Dogs", "Dead of Winter" and "Skyfall"). In, "The Outfit", much is made about Leonard's affection for his prized pair of cutting shears. "Oh, no", I thought, "It would be too obvious to have them used as an instrument of violence." But, voila! At the film's conclusion they certainly are. Then there's the revelation that there's a "rat" in the gang, which makes everyone understandably paranoid. The finale also finds the introduction of an exotic female crime kingpin known as La Fontaine (Nikki Amuka-Bird), who presides over a Black gang. Although Amuka-Bird's performance is spot-on, the character is more suited for a Bond film than an old world Chicago crime scenario in which most of the characters are reminiscent of a Bogart Warner Brothers production. La Fontaine's presence comes off as a bit of gimmicky casting that undermines the quickly evaporating sense of realism that was apparent in the first 2/3 of the production. Finally, director Moore goes off the hinges by turning the climax into a quasi slasher film, complete with the seemingly immortal antagonist. Squaring off against him, Leonard then makes some startling revelations of his own. Mind you, he does so in the midst of a raging inferno that conveniently seems to stop spreading while he delivers a soliloquy of sorts for dramatic effect.
I can't remember the last time I've seen such a promising film devolve and self-destruct in the manner that "The Outfit" does. It's a pity, too, because Mark Rylance gives a mesmerizing performance and he benefits from a fine supporting cast. To be fair, some reviewers have lavished the film with praise, so judge for yourself. Meanwhile, if you want to see a first-rate underrated crime thriller with the same title, check out the 1974 caper movie "The Outfit" starring Robert Duvall. It's tense, suspenseful and makes sense...and you don't have to fear the "Bear Trap Scenario" angle.
Founded by producers James H. Nicholson and Samuel Z. Arkoff,
American International Pictures (A.I.P.) hit upon a formula of financing
and releasing low-budget exploitation films for non-discriminating
audiences (translation: the youth market). Specializing in horror films
and goofy comedies, A.I.P. occasionally strayed into other genres. In
1963, the company capitalized on the always-popular WWII genre with the
release of "Operation Bikini". Ostensibly, the movie's title referred to
the obscure atoll in the Pacific where atomic bomb tests were conducted
during the Cold War era. However, in true A.I.P. style, the advertising
campaign was designed to imply that the title might also refer to the
fact that the bikini bathing suit was popularized here by a French
designer who conducted a photo shoot on the atoll just days after an
atomic blast. (Ignorant of the risks from radiation poison, he merrily
pronounced that "Like the bomb, the bikini is small and devastating!")
Still, the sexploitation angle in "Operation Bikini" was saved for late
in the film. What precedes its appearance is a fairly routine combat
flick made somewhat more interesting by the obvious attempts of the
filmmakers to disguise the movie's very limited budget.
Tab Hunter, one of the top heart throbs of the era, had by this point
seen his popularity in decline. He nonetheless received top billing
over charismatic crooner Frankie Avalon, whose career was ascending and
who would find great popularity as the star of several A.I.P. beach
movies over the next few years. Hunter plays Lt. Morgan Hayes, the
leader of a secret commando team that has been ordered to rendezvous
with a U.S. submarine that has been ordered to transport them on a
secret mission. The team is supposed to locate and destroy the wreckage
of an American sub that was recently sunk off the coast of Bikini by the
Japanese. Seems the wreckage contains a prototype of a top secret sonar
device that the Allies can't afford to fall into enemy hands. From
minute one, Hayes' small group of rough house land-lubbers rubs the
Captain of the submarine, Emmett Carey (Scott Brady) and his crew the
wrong way. Hayes's men resent being cooped up in a floating "tin can"
and the naval crew resents the presence of these brash soldiers who seem
to be perpetually eager to provoke a fight. Carey gives Hayes a
dressing down about keeping the tension levels low and the two men
ultimately gain mutual respect for one another. Upon arriving at Bikini,
Hayes and his men must sneak ashore and traverse the dense jungle in
search of the area where the sunken submarine is located. They are
guided by local partisans who conveniently include a stunning beauty
named Reiko, played by Eva Six, a recent winner of the "Miss Golden
Globes" honor. (I will refrain from making any tasteless jokes.) Reiko
takes a shine to Hayes and gets his mind temporarily off his troubles by
seducing him. When Hayes and his men finally arrive at their
destination, they are dismayed to see a virtual fleet of Japanese
vessels guarding the coast line where the sub is already being salvaged
by the enemy. Hayes realizes that they are now probably on a suicide
mission. Nevertheless, they persevere courageously, dodging and
sometimes engaging Japanese patrols before sending in Hayes and some
fellow scuba divers to attach time bombs to the hull of the sunken sub.
(The sequence is rather absurd because the team accomplishes this in the
dead of night despite not being able to employ any lighting equipment
whatsoever.) Detected by the Japanese, Hayes and his heroes take some
casualties in their desperate attempt to make it back to Capt. Carey's
submarine.
"Operation Bikini" is a "by the numbers" WWII yarn that isn't noticeably
better or worse than many of the other "B" movies of this genre that
were released in the 1960s. Director Anthony Carras, who edited some of
the better Poe adaptations for producer Roger Corman, employs grainy
stock footage of real combat sequences to get around his limited budget.
However, there are a couple of sequences that are unintentionally
amusing in which we find the crew of the submarine standing on deck,
supposedly in the middle of the ocean. The scenes are clearly filmed on a
sound stage because there is absolutely no movement of the vessel at
all. Apparently the budget didn't even allow for a few crew members to
gently "rock" the vessel. Additionally, the backdrop consists of either a
white or black wall with nary a hint of nature evident. Hunter looks
sullen and dreary throughout the entire proceedings, even when stripping
off his shirt for the love scene. The supporting cast includes some
offspring of Hollywood legends: Jody McCrea (son of Joel) and Gary
Crosby (son of "Der Bingle"). Michael Dante is the executive officer of
the sub and in a rather offbeat bit of casting, Jim Backus is seen in a
dramatic role as a member of the demolition team. Hunter's fellow teen
idol Frankie Avalon is cast in his usual role as wise-cracking street
guy. In the film's most bizarre sequences, he drools over a photo of the
prim and proper girl he left behind. while singing an awful love song
about trying not to be tempted by the "bad girls" he meets while on duty
away from home. Although the film is in black and white, these fantasy
sequences are shot in color. The "good girl" is shown lovingly waiting
for him while dressed like somebody's great grandmother and is presented
in B&W. Meanwhile, the leggy temptress is seen in full color,
attired in a slinky cocktail dress and gyrating her hips suggestively.
The virginal good girl gets the short end of the stick. These weird
sequences are an amusing example of how A.I.P. used an "everything but
the kitchen" sink formula to appeal to young audiences, regardless of
the lack of logic. The formula is employed in the film's equally bizarre
epilogue which extols the fact that the bikini bathing suit is closely
associated with Bikini. We observe a several minute sequence (also shot
in color) in which two young women lounge around the beach in skimpy
swim attire for no apparent reason than to stimulate the already raging
hormones of the movie's intended male teenage audience.
(The film is currently available for streaming through ScreenPix, which is available to Amazon Prime subscribers for an additional fee every month.)
CLICK HERE TO ORDER THE DVD FROM THE CINEMA RETRO MOVIE STORE
Life goes from bad to worse for Confederate soldier John
Warner (George Hilton) in the opening half hour of “A Bullet for Sandoval,” a
1970 Spaghetti Western now available on Blu-ray in a Special Edition from VCI
Entertainment. On the eve of battle in Texas, Warner learns that his sweetheart
Rosa has just given birth to their son in plague-ridden Los Cedros, and now is
dying from cholera. Denied authorisation to leave camp, Warner rides off
anyway, incurring a death sentence for desertion. Arriving in Los Cedros with
hopes of marrying Rosa before she dies, he finds no sympathy there either. Rosa
has passed away, and her father Don Pedro Sandoval (Ernest Borgnine), a
powerful grandee who loathes “gringos” in general and Warner in particular, is
infuriated that the soldier has returned. He disowns the baby and drives Warner
and the newborn out of his palatial hacienda.
Fleeing Los Cedros with his son, Warner is rebuffed at
one way-station and then a second when he begs for milk for the infant. The
people at both places are fearful of being infected when they learn that he has
just come from Los Cedros. The weakened, feverish baby dies, and Warner becomes
a vengeful outlaw, assembling a gang of henchmen to raid the settlements that
drove him away when he needed their aid to keep his child alive. Three of the
men—Sam, Lucky, and Priest—are trustworthy. The other three—Morton, One-Eye (“a
sex maniac convicted of raping two little girls”), and Guadalupano—not so much.
Warner comes to enjoy the riches and women that accrue from his new career as a
bandit, but his ultimate target remains Sandoval. In the meantime, Don Pedro and
his fellow cattle barons on the Border convince the Confederate army to help
them pursue and eradicate Warner and his band.
Like most Spaghetti Westerns, “A Bullet for Sandoval” was
an international production with Italian studio backing, a cast of actors from
several countries, outdoor locations in the Spanish desert, and in this case, a
Spanish director (Julio Buchs), and Spanish writers. In the starring role,
George Hilton (born Jorge Hill Acosta y Lara) was an accomplished, darkly
handsome Uruguayan actor who had a thriving career in Italian genre movies but
was largely unknown to U.S. moviegoers. For marquee value in the States, the
producers paired him with Ernest Borgnine as the imperious Don Pedro. Who
didn’t know Ernest Borgnine from “The Wild Bunch,” “Ice Station Zebra,” a
hundred other movies, and “McHale’s Navy”?
With Borgnine’s name prominently displayed on ads, “A
Bullet for Sandoval” was one of several Spaghetti Westerns that opened in the
U.S. in 1970, after the surprise success of “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.”
Derided by most critics as violent trash, they were usually relegated to
drive-ins and second-run movie houses. There, they filled a void on
double-bills left by the death of traditional, American-made B-Westerns like
those made a decade before with aging stars like Dana Andrews, Glenn Ford, and Robert
Taylor. Sometimes, ironically, they were paired with the homegrown Spaghetti
imitations that Hollywood studios had begun to produce, like “Two Mules for Sister Sara,”
“Barquero,” “Macho Callahan,” and “El
Condor.”
The critics may have dismissed the genre, but their
opinions were immaterial for the U.S. target audience of young guys in their
teens and early twenties, who welcomed pictures like “A Bullet for Sandoval” on
all-night movie marathons at local drive-ins. At one o’clock in the morning, in
a pleasant stupor of fatigue and beer, few would question the accuracy or
plausibility of a Civil War in which Confederate officers pause their military
campaign to help ranchers chase outlaws. As far as fans were concerned, such
fine points could be argued by history professors, as long as they could rely
on filmmakers like Buchs to deliver a gritty succession of gunfights, chases,
and gorgeous European starlets—in the case of “A Bullet for Sandoval,”
Annabella Incontrera, Mary Paz Pondal, and Paquita Torres—in low-cut peasant
blouses.
VCI Entertainment’s new Special Edition of “A Bullet for
Sandoval” presents the film in a remastered, 4K version from the original
negative, adding the English-dubbed voice track and diligently restoring ten
minutes of footage edited out of the U.S. print in 1970 and consequently, out
of previous American home video releases. As director and enthusiast Alex Cox
suggests in his informative audio commentary for the disc, the movie is better
than its synopsis implies. The script and direction give the story an epic
scope despite a limited budget, culminating in a briskly staged showdown in a
bullfighting arena, and Hilton and Borgnine offer heartfelt performances as the
two antagonists. Relatively rare for a Spaghetti Western, both Warner and Don
Pedro are emotionally damaged characters instead of the cool-cat bounty hunter
and deranged bandido who usually anchor such films.
Cox notes that the grim scenes of Warner and his friends
Lucky and Priest trying to keep Warner’s baby alive in the desert owe an
obvious debt to “Three Godfathers,” John Ford’s 1948 parable of the Nativity
story with horses and six-shooters. Ford was ever the optimist, and the infant
in “Three Godfathers” survives, delivered safely to a Western town called
Jerusalem by outlaw Bob Hightower, played by the indomitable John Wayne.
Warner’s newborn isn’t as fortunate in a world bereft of Christian charity, reflecting
the grim philosophy of the Spaghetti genre where the innocent are as likely to
suffer as the corrupt and the guilty, and often, more likely.
In addition to Alex Cox’s commentary track, the VCI
Special Edition includes the title sequence from the original Spanish version,
titled “Los Desperados,” and the U.S. theatrical trailer. It is an admirably
respectful package for a movie that few would have regarded as anything other
than disposable entertainment five decades ago.
"Young Billy Young" is the kind of film of which it can be said, "They don't make 'em like that anymore". Not because the movie is so exceptional. In fact, it isn't exceptional on any level whatsoever. Rather, it's the sheer ordinariness of the entire production that makes one pine away for an era in which top talent could be attracted to enjoyable, if unremarkable, fare such as this. Such films, especially Westerns, were churned out with workmanlike professionalism to play to undemanding audiences that didn't require mega-budget blockbusters to feel they got their money's worth at the boxoffice. Sadly, such movies have largely gone the way of the dodo bird. In today's film industry, bigger must always be better and mid-range flicks such as are no longer made. However, through streaming services such as ScreenPix, it's possible to still enjoy the simple pleasures that such movies provide. (The Kino Lorber Blu-ray is now out of print.)
The story opens with botched robbery in Mexico committed by Billy Young (Robert Walker) and some cohorts including Jesse (David Carradine). The plan to steal horses from the Mexican military goes awry and Billy is forced to split from his fellow robbers with the army in hot pursuit. Making his way back across the border to New Mexico, he is penniless and desperate. He has a chance encounter with Ben Kane (Robert Mitchum), a tough, sarcastic older man who he encounters again in a nearby town. Here, Billy is being cheated at cards by the local sheriff, who goads him into a gunfight. Billy ends up killing him but stands to be framed for the sheriff's death. He's saved by Ben, who rides along with him to another town where Ben has agreed to take on the job of lawman. Ostensibly he is there to keep order and collect back taxes from deadbeats but in reality, he is on a mission of revenge. Some years before, Ben's son had been gunned down by a criminal named Boone (John Anderson) and Kane has learned that Boone is a presence in the new town and that he is being protected by a local corrupt businessman, John Behan (Jack Kelly). Ben makes his presence known immediately by enforcing the law in a strict manner. He's confronted by Behan, who tries to intimidate him. This results in Behan being slapped around by Kane. Behan also grows to resent the new lawman because he is flirting with his mistress, saloon entertainer Lily Beloit (Angie Dickinson). When Behan abuses her as punishment, he gets another beating from Kane. Meanwhile, Billy runs into Jesse and accuses him of having deserted him in Mexico. The two men fight it out and Jesse is later involved with the accidental shooting of the town's beloved doctor while in the employ of Behan. Kane learns that Jesse is Boone's son and holds him in jail as bait for Boone to come out of hiding. The plan works all too well. Boone turns up with a small army and lays siege to the jailhouse where Kane and Billy are holed up.
"Young Billy Young" was compared to a TV show by New York Times critic Howard Thompson on the basis that it contains so many standard elements of westerns from this time period. There is the bad girl with the heart of gold, the evil business tycoon, the brash young gun and his wiser, older mentor, the heroes outnumbered by superior forces and a lovable old coot (played against type by Paul Fix in full Walter Brennan/Gabby Hayes mode.) Yet somehow it all works very well, thanks mostly to Robert Mitchum's stalwart presence. With his trademark ramrod stiff walk and cool persona, Mitchum tosses off bon mots like a frontier version of 007. Even the Times acknowledged that "Mitchum can do laconic wonders with a good wise-crack". He has considerable chemistry with Dickinson, though the action between the sheets is more implied than shown. Robert Walker Jr. acquits himself well in the title role and David Carradine makes an impression even with limited screen time. The film was directed by Burt Kennedy, an old hand at directing fine westerns in reliable, if not remarkable, style and it all culminates in a rip-snorting shoot-out that is genuinely exciting. The fine supporting cast includes Willis Bouchey, Parley Baer and Deanna Martin (Dino's daughter) in her acting debut. One oddball element to the film: Mitchum croons the title song over the opening credits. If this sounds strange, keep in mind that Mitchum improbably once had a hit album of calypso music.
The film is currently streaming on ScreenPix, which is available to Amazon Prime customers for $2.99 a month.
Imprint, the Australian video company, has released a boxed set of Blu-rays devoted to Gene Hackman. The set is region-free and limited to 1500 copies.The set includes "I Never Sang for My Father", "Bite the Bullet", "March or Die" and "The Domino Principal".
Click here to order. (Prices are in Australian dollars. Use currency converter to see value in your local currency.)
"Some Kind of a Nut" is yet another obscure movie from the late 1960s (1969, to be precise) that is available through Screenpix, which is an ancillary subscription channel through Amazon Prime. The film is not currently available on home video in the U.S. and I don't know if it ever was. I was aware that the movie didn't make any impact upon its initial release but, given the amount of talent involved in it, I thought it was time to invest 90 minutes of my life to see a collaboration between star Dick Van Dyke and legendary writer/director Garson Kanin. Van Dyke was a hot property at the time, having left his classic TV sitcom "The Dick Van Dyke Show" to concentrate on a career in feature films, where he initially found considerable success. Van Dyke was busy with so many projects at the time that "Some Kind of a Nut" had a bizarre shooting schedule to accommodate him. According to the TCM web site, some of the film was shot in May of 1968 with the rest filmed in January 1969. The logistics of arranging this with a full cast and crew must have been challenging but Van Dyke's presence in the film led United Artists to agree to the terms. The company had recently released "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" with Van Dyke in the starring role. The studio was also seeking a long-term relationship with Garson Kanin and signed him to a four-picture deal arranged by producer Walter Mirisch, but none of the other projects came to fruition and Kanin retired from making feature films after "Some Kind of a Nut".
Van Dyke is cast as Fred Amidon, a mousey bank teller who works in a busy branch in the heart of mid-town Manhattan. He and the other employees suffer in an Orwellian atmosphere under the thumb of a priggish, humorless boss who demands complete conformity with conservative banking policies. Fred is also carrying the weight of his pending divorce from his wife Rachel (Angie Dickinson) which will be finalized in a few weeks time. His one pleasant diversion is his romantic relationship with fellow bank clerk Pamela Anderson (no, not that Pamela Anderson) played by Rosemary Forsyth. While enjoying a precious lunch hour together in Central Park, Fred is stung on the chin by a bee. The painful sting proves to be stubborn and won't go away even when the couple leave on a cross-country vacation. Frustrated by the unsightly wound on his chin, Fred decides to grow a beard. (For a bank with prison-like working conditions, the institution must have a very liberal vacation policy, as Fred and Pamela have enough time to drive to San Francisco and back and for Fred's beard to come into full glory.) Upon returning to the bank, his new appearance causes a scandal. His boss insists that he shave it off, as beards are against bank policy. When Fred refuses, he is summarily fired. His stance earns him the respect of his fellow employees and when the media learns of his situation, he becomes a cause celebre. Before long, Fred becomes a reluctant hero to everyday people who are fed up with having to conform to outdated policies in society. He is particularly embraced by the counter-culture movement, making him an unlikely figurehead for local hippies. He has more problems: his soon to be ex-wife Rachel reconnects with him because she is impressed by his new-found courage. This complicates things with Pamela, who detests the beard and the symbolism it represents. She's under the influence of her two meddlesome brothers who seek to compromise Fred's status as a cult figure. Meanwhile, Fred starts to dabble in Eastern mysticism and begins consulting an Asian guru in one of the film's funniest scenes. Beyond this, however, Kanin's script is anything but unpredictable and you can pretty much guess the outcome of the movie long before it arrives.
"Some Kind of a Nut" was filmed under the working title "The One with the Fuzz". It was a dud with critics and audiences, as was often the case when older filmmakers tried to be relevant to the anti-Establishment crowd of the era. (All the hippies are safe, joyous and satisfied carrying protest signs that are about as controversial as "No Trespassing". There isn't a hint of the Vietnam War and civil rights protests that defined the era, let alone any expletives. The film paints a Brady Bunch-like depiction of a time that never was. Nevertheless, the script does have something to say about the price of conformity, expressed in comical fashion through the inimitable talents of Dick Van Dyke, who makes otherwise unfunny scenes amusing. Angie Dickinson has a rather bland role and her screen time is limited, though director Kanin ensures there is a scene set at a swimming pool for no other reason than to present the welcome sight of Dickinson in a bikini.The film also has the virtue of presenting some nostalgic scenes shot on location in Manhattan. For Dick Van Dyke, the movie would be the first of two feature films released in 1969 that were ambitious in content but failures at the boxoffice and with critics, although the second film, Carl Reiner's comedy/drama "The Comic" has earned respect over the years in certain quarters. Van Dyke would only star in one more comedy on the big screen, "Cold Turkey", released in 1971. That film proved to be quite popular. Thereafter, he would not star in a feature film for another eight years, when he appeared in the leading role in Stanley Kramer's admirable but under-appreciated final movie "The Runner Stumbles", in which Van Dyke gave a fine dramatic performance. He returned to the medium where he had originally found success: television and his late career series "Diagnosis: Murder" would prove to be a major hit that ran for many seasons.
("Some Kind of a Nut" is currently streaming on Screenpix, available to Amazon Prime subscribers for an additional $2.99 a month.)
Roger Corman had, over a relatively short period of time,
directed and/or produced more than a
half-dozen pictures since his entry into the movie industry in 1955.His first efforts were modest successes, but
the filmmaker firmly broke into a dependably bankable stride within two years’
time.Though already having helmed two
low budget science-fiction pictures with some success (Day the World Ended (1955) and It
Conquered the World (1956) his reputation in Hollywood - as a budget-minded
money-spinner - was properly recognized following the box office counting of his
1957 chiller combo: Attack of the Crab
Monsters/Not of This Earth.Variety noted the package – each film made
on a “slenderized bankroll of $85, 000,” had brought in an impressive domestic
gross of $800,000.By early November of
’57, that package, distributed through Allied Artists, had earned back the
entirety of its production and marketing costs within twelve weeks of its release.
Through the remainder of the 1950s and well into the early
1960s, Corman continued to grind out a dizzying array of feature films, not all
of the horror and sci-fi variety: there were plenty of exploitative teenage
rock n’ roll pictures and crime dramas offered as well. But from 1960 through
1964, Corman worked primarily – though not exclusively – producing and directing
an impressive slate of upscale horror classics.He had already given fans such soon-to-be low-budget cult favorites as Bucket of Blood (1959) and Little Shop of Horrors (1960).But in 1960 he more famously scored with House of Usher, the first of his iconic and
moody cycle of Poe and H.P. Lovecraft adaptations - many featuring Vincent
Price in roles as both tormentor and tormented.
One of Corman’s most important collaborators in his early
years was screenwriter Charles B. Griffith.Griffith would receive screenwriting credit – or co-credit – on no fewer
than eight of Corman’s earliest films 1956-59.The writer would later recall for Beast
from Haunted Cave he had been commissioned by Corman to essentially rework
the storyline of an earlier film they had crafted together – Naked Paradise (1957) aka Thunder Over Hawaii.Naked
Paradise, of which Griffith was brought on late to the project for a
re-write, was essentially a South Seas crime-drama set in a pineapple
plantation under the umbrella of a glistening sun.
Since that film had done well enough, Corman wanted to revisit
the scenario of Naked Paradise for the
reimagined crime drama titled Beast from
Haunted Cave.There would be a new
twist: the new scenario was to take place in and around a gold mining community
nestled in the dead winter snow of South Dakota’s Black Hills.Oh, and Corman advised Griffith that he also wanted
a genuine cave-dwelling monster thrown in for good measure - that sort of thing
was still selling.That was essentially
all the background material given to Griffith to get started on the project.
Despite its menacing title Beast from Haunted Cave appears more a crime-drama than horror
flick in the course of its 65-minute running time.The story revolves around the criminal doings
of a circle of bandits: chain-smoking mastermind Alexander Ward (Frank Wolff), his
two minions Marty Jones (Richard Sinatra) and Byron Smith (Wally Campo) and
Ward’s oft- inebriated “secretary” Gypsy Boulet (Sheila Carol).The thieves have gathered in the snow-capped
mountain winter of the pioneer town of Deadwood, South Dakota.Their plan is to plant an explosive in an
abandoned cave in the early hours of a quiet Sunday morning.The explosion is set merely as a strategic
ploy to distract authorities for a time, enabling the thieves’ free reign to
steal gold bars from an unattended payroll office of a local gold-mining
company.
Unfortunately, their plans don’t run smoothly.Ward’s dissatisfied and affection-starved
lover-secretary, Gypsy, has a bit of a drinking problem.She complicates matters when she falls hard for
ski instructor and trail guide Gil Jackson (Michael Forest), a swarthy,
dark-haired gentleman of gentle temperament. (As an aside, I occasionally had a
bit of trouble understanding actress Sheila Carol’s dialogue in this film: her
diction seemed a perplexing amalgam of drunken slurred words and a faux
Katherine Hepburn accent).The cold Ward
takes notice of his woman’s wandering eye but is unworried.He has plans to kill Jackson once the skier -
unwittingly - guides this gaggle of crooks on a cross-country trail run to a
remote location.
Ward had plans to rendezvous with a waiting plane to
ferry his gang - and their misbegotten treasure - off to safe sanctuary in
Canada.But this plan too is scuttled by
an unwelcome blizzard passing through the mountains.(As a second aside, Ward’s cross-country ski scheme
is surely the most ineffectual escape route ever mapped by criminals carrying weighted
gold bars in rucksacks.They really would
have done better just hightailing it out of town in their rented car). To complicate matters further – and this is
where the horror finally comes in - their explosive mine charge has awakened
the titular beast, sort of an upright walking, giant spider that collects his victims
by webbing them against cave walls and drinking their blood at his leisure.Let’s just say the moral of the story is a
familiar one: essentially, crime doesn’t pay.
In Corman’s attempt to make their chilly time in the
Black Hills more productive and worthwhile (i.e. profitable), the filming of Beast was to be produced back-to-back on
location in Deadwood with yet another Charles B. Griffith script, Ski Troop Attack.This second film was to be a somewhat more
ambitious project, a snow-bound WWII action-adventure pitting American
ski-troopers against their wintry Nazi counterparts.The Corman team would use the same primary
on-and off screen talents featured in the cast and credits of Beast for Ski Troop Attack.
The scenario of Ski
Troop Attack referentially takes place in the snow-capped mountains of
Germany’s Hürtgen Forest, circa
December 1944.A small American band of
ski-troopers are the only remaining Allied force active in this Nazi-controlled
region, hiding themselves behind enemy lines so they can spy and report on SS
ski-troop movements.The level-head
Lieutenant Factor (Forest), a graduate of the Army’s Officer Candidate School,
wishes to stay clear of engaging in active combat with the enemy.As the only team of Allied forces positioned
inside the Nazi-controlled German-Belgian border, it is Forest’s belief his
outfit should purposely avoid direct contact.He instead wants to concentrate his efforts on secret reconnaissance
missions.By acting as the covert eyes of
the good guys behind enemy lines, his outfit would be able to transmit vital
information on Nazi troop movements back to HQ.
But Factor is at loggerheads
with tough-talking Sergeant Potter (a mustache-less Wolff, again cast in a
“heavy” role).Potter is described by
Factor as an old school “regular army guy,” a man of pure fighting spirit but someone
strategically short-sighted.Potter desperately
wants to engage the Nazi ski-troopers in active combat and is mostly dismissive
of the Factor’s civilian background and wartime decision-making capabilities.Potter does get a number of chances to engage
in hand-to-hand combat.The film actually
offers no shortage of brutal on screen violence with competing ski-troops ambushing
and beating one another with fisticuffs, rifles butts, bayonets, knives and
machine-gun fire.
Ultimately, the American’s
decide to blow up a strategic railroad bridge that Allied air powers are unable
to access and target.But while
attempting to get to the base of the bridge to set off their detonators, they
must first successfully climb an ice-covered vertical cliff side.If this isn’t problematic or dangerous enough,
they must also fend off a team of six pursuing Nazi ski-troopers hot on their
trail.The German skiing contingent,
incidentally, is led by the badly-dubbed Roger Corman himself.The film’s climactic ending is, somewhat surprisingly
for this type of adventure, more bleak than celebratory.
Griffith’s screenplay is
actually far more nuanced than it is given credit for in the film’s original
round of reviews.The sensitively written
dialogue is mature – the scene where soldier Grammelsbacher (Sinatra) sits
around a campfire musing if somewhere out there there’s still “a bullet with my
name on it” – is particularly gripping.The better written dialogue also brings out better acting performances
of all involved – including Shelia Carol who appears midway through the film as
a spiteful German captive of the Americans.
The film does plod a bit.There’s a lot of wartime newsreel footage
interlaced throughout, and no matter how beautiful the mountain settings are
photographed, there’s far too many time-filling shots of ski-troopers silently
trudging cross-country style through the tundra.Having said that that, there’s also some
well-executed ski chase scenes captured on screen, such action-footage surprising
for a film shot on a threadbare budget.The soundtrack of the film is riddled with the sound of machine-gun fire
and a decent score courtesy of composer Fred Katz – though fans of Corman’s
earliest films will surely recognize a good number of Katz’s recycled musical
motifs are in play.
As both projects were to be shot on tight schedules,
Roger’s brother, Gene, stepped in as the de facto producer of Beast.Once a Hollywood agent, Gene Corman was co-founder (with Roger) of their
company Filmgroup, Inc.Gene’s earliest
entries as producer would include a number of exploitative sci-fi efforts such as
Night of the Blood Beast (1958) and Attack of the Giant Leeches (1959).With Roger set to both produce and direct Ski Troop Attack, the directorial duties of Beast were given to first-timer Monte Hellman - whose only previous
film experience was having worked as an apprentice editor at ABC-TV.
In his entertaining memoir, How I Made a Hundred Movies in Hollywood and Never Lost a Dime
(Random House, 1990), Roger Corman recalled the wintertime location shooting in
and around snowbound Deadwood as “unbearable” and “a very tough
challenge.”When shooting was to
commence on the peak of Mount Terry, Corman recorded temperatures of a frigid thirty-eight
degrees below zero.In the recollection
of script supervisor Kinta Zertuche, her primary job was simply “to find ways
to keep the film warm enough so it wouldn’t get brittle and crack.” She was
also deigned to find ways of keeping the production cameras from freezing – not
always successfully.
Production assistant Paul Rapp recalled he had been
tasked to drive the parsimonious Corman – and an automobile-filled cache of
film props - from Los Angeles to Deadwood, so the director “could save on
airfare and have an extra car on location.”When filming one downhill ski sequence, Corman accidentally set off a
small avalanche by shouting “Action!” too loudly through a bullhorn.Rapp recalled while the incident scared him
half-to-death, Corman quickly realized the potential visual impact of what the
camera was capturing.So the team was
commanded to continue to roll film, Corman exhorting via bullhorn that his terrified
skiers try their best to “Stay Ahead of the Avalanche!”
In March of 1959, there was a trade announcement that
“Corman’s distributing outfit, The Filmgroup,” was planning to release Beast from Haunted Cave nationally (paired
with The Wasp Woman) as early as June
1, with Ski Troop Attack (to be paired
with Task Force 38) a little more
than a month later, July 13.But neither
of those prospective release dates would actually roll out as planned, even
though the films themselves were
ready to roll.Beast would come closest to realizing its projected release date,
appearing on some screens in July 1959.
As early as February of 1960, Variety reported that the steamroller that was Filmgroup was
optimistically planning to roll out eight feature films a month between March
and June of 1960.Ski Troop Attack was to see release on the very tail end of that
schedule. The Hollywood Reporter suggested Filmgroup’s plan as more ambitious
than even originally announced: the company was planning on issuing no less
than twenty-four features over a
year’s period, with eleven of those titles already in the can and ready to go.
The company was also interested in testing international
markets. It was reported that the usually closed-to-outsiders Soviet film
market was interested in importing four Corman titles – including Beast and Ski – assuming whether or not Irving Allen, president of Canada’s
Astral Films, could finalize a deal while visiting London.Later in May of 1960, it was reported
Filmgroup had sealed another deal to distribute eight films – again, including Beast and Ski - throughout the Philippine islands.Finally, in August of 1960, Continental
Distributors would obtain rights of Filmgroup product for European markets.
But the U.S. market was of most concern to the filmmakers.On March 16, 1960, there was a very belated press
screening of the Beast and Wasp combo at the Hollywood Theatre. Variety was generally impressed with Hellman’s
Beast, but suggested the film’s scenario
was completely illogical.The critic
also pondered that perhaps interest in horror films was generally on the
wane.He opined, audiences were growing
“inured to monsters and hardly blink when this one guzzles its customary quota
of blood.”The review of Wasp was likewise middling in
praise.The trade noted, while the film
was certainly an “exploitable” passable entertainment, “it’s pretty slow and not
very frightening.”
The “official” premiere of Beast from Haunted Cave was to take place at dual locations in
South Dakota:Rapid City’s State Theatre
and the Hile-Hi Drive-in outside of Deadwood: the latter venue was to enjoy a
four day night run of Beast beginning
August 2, 1959.This was obviously a nod
of acknowledgment to the folks living in the area of the Black Mountain Hills
who hosted and assisted the film’s production.But no matter how well-intentioned the “premiere” honor, Beast from Haunted Cave and The Wasp Woman had already been
projected on screens in the mid and southwestern U.S. as early as July of ’59.
Earlier that spring, director Gene Corman had written
Allan “Birdie” Arnold of Deadwood’s Chamber of Commerce City Council, a champion
of the film shoot. “We saw a rough cut of our picture, it is very good and I’m
sure everyone who helped, especially you, will be proud and pleased,” Gene
wrote, adding, “I plan to make it a full length picture and hope to release it
in the summer.”For their assistance,
both Arnold and Mayor Ed Keene of Lead, South Dakota, were given “Technical
Advisor” credits on Beast.
Film Masters is a new classic film
restoration and distribution company formed by industry veteran and film
historian Phil Hopkins. The company launched on September 26th with an
impressive, region-free Blu-ray release. For decades, dating back to the humble
early beginnings of the home video cassette, these two public domain favourites
seemed to once flood the market. Often struck and scanned from poor quality
16mm prints, the process and distribution hardly helped the reputation of these
two low-budget slices of fifties science fiction. Of course, there’s no getting
away from the fact that The Giant Gila Monster (1959) and The Killer Shrews
(1959) were ever going to be regarded as stunning examples of quality science
fiction, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that they can’t be considered as
hugely entertaining and enjoyable vehicles.
Both films (directed by Ray Kellogg) were
originally released as a drive-in, double-bill feature in 1959. Bringing both
films together here, each with their own dedicated disc, not only makes perfect
sense, but offers a nice form of symmetry – giving the overall package
additional logic and weight. It’s a decision that also offers a degree of
‘worth’ for fans and collectors. Fans are an appreciative group of people, so
this collective form of package will only help Film Masters in gaining a healthy
reputation and a certain degree of loyalty.
Beginning with what appears to be the leading
feature, The Giant Gila Monster opens with a young couple, Pat (Grady Vaughn)
and Liz (Yolanda Salas), parked in a bleak, rural locale overlooking a ravine.
A giant Gila monster attacks the car, sending it into the ravine and killing
the couple. Later, several friends of the couple assist the local sheriff (Fred
Graham) in his search for the missing teens. Chase Winstead (Don Sullivan), a
young mechanic and hot rod racer, locates the crashed car in the ravine and
finds evidence of the giant lizard. However, it is only when the hungry reptile
attacks a train that the authorities realise they are dealing with a giant
venomous lizard. By this time, emboldened by its attacks and hungry for prey,
the creature attacks the town. It heads for the local dance hall, where the
town's teenagers are gathered for a hop.
Filmed near Dallas, Texas, the film was
budgeted at $175,000 and was produced by Dallas drive-in theatre chain owner
Gordon McLendon who wanted co-features for his main attractions. McLendon shot
the film back-to-back with The Killer Shrews. In exchange for providing the
special effects, Ray Kellogg was allowed to direct the film, while Curtis
allowed his lead Don Sullivan to pick and perform three songs. The reasoning
not only helped in padding out the action but also served in targeting the healthy
teenage market. Don Sullivan, a veteran of several low-budget monster movies,
proves to be confident in both his role and surroundings, while Lisa Simone (a
former French contestant for the 1957 Miss Universe contest) is arguably a
little more wooden and uncomfortable.
For the best part, Ray Kellogg’s special
effects work adequately well. With such a low budget, there was little
consideration for an established name such as Ray Harryhausen and his
stop-motion animation. So instead, a live Mexican beaded lizard was shot against
scaled-down model landscapes and sets. This technique wasn’t anything new, iguanas
and chameleons were also being used the very same year over at 20th
Century Fox for their adaptation of Journey to the Center of the Earth (1959). The Giant Gila Monster (naturally) was not afforded
the same budget, it was simply a locally made film that was marketed and sold
in a very clever way, making sure it received both nationwide and foreign
distribution. But above all, it remains hugely enjoyable and serves as a
reminder of far less serious times in terms of filmmaking on a shoestring.
As for the video’s quality, this new 4K scan
from original 35mm material, looks incredibly good. Sharpness, contrast and
sound are all highly impressive. Film Masters have provided a new level of
respect for this minor league classic, and the results have really raised its
once questionable profile. There is also an option of watching the film in
either a TV ratio (standard 1.33:1) or a theatrical version (1.85:1). I opted
for the theatrical version for reviewing which works perfectly well.
Film Masters have also provided some very
nice bonus features. Heading these is a full-length
audio commentary by Larry Strothe, James Gonis, Shawn Sheridan, and Matt
Weinhold from The Monster Party Podcast. As the name suggests, this is a light-hearted
overview but nevertheless thoroughly enjoyable. The group offer a cheekily
mocking level of critique but never in with a cruel intension. The common
denominator is obviously a shared love for the film. The group manage to unearth
some excellent production detail and history, often quoting from original
source material such as pressbooks and publicity from its time of release.
There is also a restored and remastered
original theatrical trailer and a very enjoyable archival audio interview with
star Don Sullivan (1929- 2018). Asking the questions is author Bryan Senn, who
digs deep in extracting as much detail as possible. Sullivan appears happy to
answer anything he can recall, and the interview is relaxed and unhurried.
Despite the audio quality which occasionally wavers (the source sounds to be
via a telephone) it remains interesting throughout and offers a unique,
first-hand insight.
Next up is The Killer Shrews (1959), again
directed by Ray Kellogg and utilising most of the
same production crew. The story follows a group of researchers who are trapped
in their remote island compound overnight by a hurricane and find themselves
under siege by their abnormally large and venomous mutant test subjects, the
shrews. Captain Thorne Sherman and first mate Rook Griswold deliver supplies by
ship to a research compound on the remote island. The station inhabitants
(scientist Marlowe Craigis, his research assistant Radford Baines, Marlowe's
daughter Ann, her fiancé Jerry Farrel, and a servant Mario) give them a cold
welcome and direct them to unload the ship and leave immediately. Marlowe
explains he has been trying to isolate the genes responsible for growth and
metabolism in order to shrink humans to half their size so as to reduce the
impact of human overpopulation. He uses shrews as test animals due to their
short lifespan, allowing him to track results over multiple generations.
However, Marlowe's experiments have created a batch of mutant wolf-sized shrews
which have escaped. The group barricade themselves inside their compound every
evening before the sun sets due to the creatures' nocturnal feeding habits.
They have not contacted the coast guard so that they can complete their
research, predicting that the shrews will cannibalize each other once they have
consumed all other food on the island.
And so begins this really enjoyable little
romp. Catching up with this film once again reminded me of just how good this
film really is. In fact, I’ll come right out and say it – I still think this is
the superior film when compared to The Giant Gila
Monster. The whole concept of a group of people trapped in a secluded and
isolated locale is one that still proves effective. The film is often compared
to that of George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead made some 9 years later in
1968. If you take that concept, replacing the zombies with wild, oversized,
very hungry shrews, then you get the general idea. Yes, one could argue that
(on paper) the whole idea sounds rather ludicrous. But the film has some really
creative and effective moments, especially for 1959. Considering that the ($123,000)
budget for The Killer Shrews was even tighter than that of The Giant Gila
Monster, the results are even more impressive.
Ray Kellogg makes exceptional good use of his
special effects background. OK, so the shrews were in actual fact large coonhound
dogs dressed up with long carpeted hair and Saber fangs. And close-up shots
were nothing more than mere hand puppets! But somehow, the effects still work.
Good use of sound effects also provides an eerie warning of the shrews’ imminent
arrival. Clever quick editing also adds to the film’s overall sense of tension
and drama. In fact, there are also some cleverly constructed jump shock moments
and some particularly gruesome scenes – not to mention a ludicrously ingenious
escape plan! So, The Killer Shrews has a great deal of positives in its favour
and is well worth a re-evaluation – especially in this sparkling new transfer.
As with The Giant Gila Monster, Film Masters have afforded The Killer Shrews with
another equally high-quality transfer. I thought it looked quite faultless
actually, a nice clean, crisp transfer with lovely deep black tones and contrast.
The audio again is also clear and sharp throughout its duration. Again, there
is an option to view in either 1.33:1 or in 1.85:1 aspect ratio.
The bonus features are very enjoyable,
consisting of another full-length audio commentary this time provided by author
Jason A. Ney. This commentary offers a more scholarly, academic approach which
is both informative and enjoyable in equal measure. Ray Kellogg – An Unsung Master
is a fascinating Ballyhoo motion pictures documentary exploring the life and
career of the director. And to round off the disc is a large collection of
original radio spots for each movie courtesy of Gary L. Prange. Inside there is
also a full colour, 22-page booklet with essays by Don Stradley and Jason A.
Ney.
Overall, Film Masters have delivered a very
impressive debut package. With the hope of producing similarly styled releases
on a monthly basis, there’s certainly a great deal more to look forward to and
their efforts should be applauded.
(Darren Allison is the Soundtracks Editor for Cinema Retro.)
Frederick
Knott's suspense play "Wait Until Dark" premiered on Broadway on Feb. 2,
1966. Lee Remick played Susy Hendrix, a
young blind woman who becomes the target of a manipulative scheme orchestrated
by a sinisterly glib psychopath, Harry Roat Jr. from Scarsdale. Robert Duvall, in his Broadway debut, had the
pivotal supporting role of Roat. A movie
version opened on Oct. 26, 1967, starring Audrey Hepburn (in an Oscar-nominated
performance) as Susy and Alan Arkin as
Roat, produced by Mel Ferrer (Hepburn's husband at the time), directed by
Terence Young, and scored by Henry Mancini. A predecessor of today's popular, trickily plotted suspense movies like
"Gone Gir" (2014) and "The Girl on the Train" (2016), the film was a
commercial and critical success, ranking number sixteen in box-office returns
for the year. Movies
adapted from plays often feel stage-bound, but "Wait Until Dark"
avoids those constraints, thanks in no small part to Young's fine
pacing, sharp eye for detail, and sure grasp of character.
Bosley
Crowther's October 27, 1967, film review in the New York Times noted that the
Radio City Music Hall screening of "Wait Until Dark" included a stage show with
a ballet troupe, performing dogs, and the Rockettes. Fifty years later, going out to a movie,
you're lucky to get a good seat and decently lit projection for the price of
admission. Any live entertainment comes
courtesy of the patrons behind you who can't put away their smartphones for two
hours.
Knott's play was confined to one interior set, Susy's cramped Greenwich Village
apartment, which makes it a perennial favorite for little-theater and
high-school drama productions on limited budgets. The movie adds a new opening scene in which
Sus's husband Sam (Efrem Zimbalist Jr.), a freelance photographer, meets an
attractive young woman, Lisa, as they board a flight from Montreal. When they land at JFK, Lisa hands Sam a
child's doll and asks him to hold on to it for her temporarily. She says it's a present for the child of a
friend, she just learned that the friend and the little girl will be meeting
her at the airport, and she doesn't want to spoil the surprise; she'll call and
come by for it later. Unknown to the
obliging Sam, it's a phony story: Lisa is a drug mule, and narcotics are hidden
inside the doll.
Lisa
had planned to double-cross her accomplice Roat and split the money from
the
drug shipment with Mike (Richard Crenna) and Carlino (Jack Weston), her
partners in past criminal schemes. Roat
murders Lisa and enlists Mike and Carlino to help him find the doll in
Susy and
Sam's apartment. He lures Sam away with
a call promising a big photo assignment. In his absence, Mike poses as
an old Army friend of Sam's, and Carlino
impersonates a detective investigating Lisa's murder. In a bad guy/good
guy ploy, the phony Detective Sgt. Carlino insinuates that he suspects
Sam of Lisa's murder. Mike intervenes, offering his support to Susy
to gain her trust. To further disorient
Susy, Roat poses as two men who appear to lend credence to the con.Harry
Roat Sr., an an aggressive old man,
barges into the apartment, noisily claiming to be in search of evidence
that
Lisa, his daughter-in-law, carried on a clandestine affair with Sam.
Later, mild-mannered Harry Roat Jr. knocks
on the door and apologizes for his father's outburst. It's a nice
gimmick for Alan Arkin, who gets
to impersonate three characters with different costumes and
personalities. For audiences who watched the Broadway
production, it might also have provided an effective "Aha" moment when
they
realized that there was only one Roat, not three. But it's no surprise
for the movie audience,
since close-up camera angles make it clear immediately that the other
two are
also Arkin in heavy make-up.
The
new Blu-ray release of "Wait Until Dark" from the Warner Archive Collection
presents the movie in a 1080p print for high-def TV. It's a definite improvement in richness from
previous TV and home-video prints. The
tailor-made audience is likely to be those older viewers who saw the film on
the big screen in 1967, who may wonder if the movie's "gotcha"climax still
holds up. Suffice to say without
spoiling the scene for new viewers by going into details, it does. The film's stage origins are obvious in the dialogue-driven
plot set-up and in the constrained setting of one cramped apartment. The measured exposition may be a hurdle for
younger viewers used to a faster pace and visual shorthand, but the
concentration of character interplay in a closed space isn't necessarily a
problem, even for Millennials who have been conditioned to expect ADHD editing
and splashy FX in movies. It imposes a
sense of claustrophobia that subtly forces the audience to share Susy's
mounting fear of being hemmed in and trapped.
In "Take a Look in the Dark", an eight-minute special feature ported over to the
Blu-ray from a 2003 Warner Home Video DVD release, Alan Arkin notes that the
psychotic Roat, with his granny-frame sunglasses and urban-hipster patter, was
a break from the usual sneering, buttoned-down movie and TV villains of the
time. "By and large, the public had not
been exposed to that kind of person", he recalls. "But they began to have people like that live
next to them, or see them in the newspapers or on TV." Ironically, if Roat was unsettling to 1967
audiences, he and his flick knife may seem insufficiently scary for younger
viewers today, in the endless wake of movies and TV shows about flamboyantly
demented murderers since "The Silence of the Lambs" (1990) -- not to mention
the perpetrators of real-life mass murders that, numbingly, we seem to see
every night on CNN, network, and local news.
In
the special feature, Arkin and Ferrer also express fond appreciation of
Hepburn, who wanted to star in "Wait Until Dark" when she realized
that she was getting too old to continue playing demure ingenues, Ferrer
says. Once Susy starts to figure out the con in the last half-hour of
the movie and, isolated from help, summons the inner resources to fight
back, she begins to resemble today's omnipresent model of screen
feminism, the smart, ass-kicking action hero. Two supporting actresses
are unfamiliar by name and face: Samantha Jones as Lisa and Julie Harrod
as Susy's 14-year-old neighbor Gloria. Jones has a chilling scene in
which Lisa's corpse hangs in a makeshift body bag in Susy's closet, and
Susy, unaware, almost bumps into it. Both actresses are so good that
viewers will wonder why they didn't have more prominent careers. (I
don't know either.) One bit of casting may be distracting to viewers in
2017 in a way that it wasn't to audiences in 1967: as Carlino, the fine
character actor Jack Weston is almost a dead ringer for New Jersey Gov.
and failed 2016 Republican Presidential hopeful Chris Christie. (He's
now running again- Ed.)
Besides "Take a Look in the Dark", the Warner Archive Collection Blu-ray includes two trailers also repeated from the 2003 DVD.One,
titled the "warning trailer" ominously cautions that "during the last
eight minutes of this picture, the theater will be darkened to the legal
limit to heighten the terror of the breath-taking climax."As
a gimmick for luring curious masochists into the movie theater, it
doesn't quite rise to the truly inspired heights of William Castle's
"Emergo", "Percepto", or "Punishment Poll", but it's still a charming
bit of vintage Hollywood hucksterism.
Don Knotts
came to fame with his trademark comedy style of portraying a meek, excessively
nervous character. He was Woody Allen before Woody Allen was Woody Allen.
Knotts honed his skills on Steve Allen's show in the 1950s, with his "man
on the street" Nervous Nellie routine sending audiences into fits of
laughter. He co-starred with fellow up-and-comer Andy Griffith in the hit
Broadway production of "No Time for Sergeants" and the subsequent
film version. When Griffith landed his own TV series in 1960 in which he played
the sheriff of fictional small town Mayberry, Knotts imposed upon him to write
a small, occasional part he could play as Barney Fife, Griffith's inept but
loyal sheriff. Griffith complied and the role made Knotts an icon of American
comedy, allowing him to win an astonishing five Emmys for playing the same
character. Five years into the series, Knotts was offered a multi-feature deal
by Lew Wasserman, the reigning mogul of Universal Pictures. Knotts took the
bait and enjoyed creative control over the films to a certain degree. He could
pretty much do what he wanted as long has he played the same nervous schlep audiences wanted to
see. The films had to be low-budget, shot quickly and enjoy modest profits from
rural audiences where Knotts' popularity skewed the highest. His first feature
film was The Ghost and Mr.
Chicken, released in 1966 and written by the same writing team from
the "The Andy Griffith Show". (Griffith actually co-wrote the script
but declined taking a writing credit.) The film astonished the industry,
rolling up big grosses in small markets where it proved to have remarkable
staying power. Similarly, his next film, The
Reluctant Astronaut also proved to be a big hit, as was his
1969 western spoof The
Shakiest Gun in the West. Within a few years, however,
changing audience tastes had rendered Knotts' brand of innocent, gentle humor
somewhat moot. By the late 1960s audiences were getting their laughs from the
new film freedoms. It was hard to find the antics of a middle-aged virgin much
fun when you could see Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice cavorting in the same
bed. Still, Knotts soldiered on, providing fare for the drive-in markets that
still wanted his films. In 1969 he made The
Love God?, a very funny and underrated film that tried to be more
contemporary by casting Knotts as an innocent ninny who is manipulated into
fronting what he thinks is a magazine for bird watchers but, in reality, is a
cover for a pornography empire. Knotts' traditional audience balked at the
relatively tame sex jokes and for his final film for Universal, How to Frame a Figg, he
reverted back to his old formula.
Released in
1971, Figg casts
Don Knotts as the titular character, Hollis Figg, a nondescript wimp who toils
as an overlooked accountant in a basement of city hall. The film is set in a
Mayberry-like small town environment but any other similarity ends there. In
Mayberry, only the visiting city slickers were ever corrupt. The citizenry may
have been comprised of goofballs and eccentrics, but they were all scrupulously
honest. In Figg's world, however, the top government officials are all con-men
and crooks. They are ruled by the town's beloved paternal father figure, Old
Charley Spaulding (Parker Fennelly), a decrepit character who hands out pennies
to everyone he encounters, with the heart-warming greeting "A shiny penny
for your future!" In fact, Old Charley has plenty of those pennies
stashed away. He and his hand-picked fellow crooks, including the mayor and
police chief, have been systemically ripping off the state by grossly inflating
the costs of local building projects and secretly pocketing the overages.
Concerned that the accountants might get wind of their activities, they
summarily fire them all except for Figg, who is deemed to be too naive to ever
catch on. They justify the firings by saying it's fiscally prudent and replace
the accountants with a gigantic computer that is supposed to be even more
efficient. Through a quirk of fate, Figg and his equally naive friend, Prentiss
(Frank Welker), the janitor for city hall, discover exactly what is going on.
Figg dutifully reports his findings to the mayor (Edward Andrews), who
convinces him to keep it secret while he launches his own investigation. Old
Charley, the mayor and their cohorts decide to make Figg the fall guy for the
corrupt practices. They give him a big promotion, a new red convertible and
even hire a private secretary for him. She's Glorianna (Yvonne Craig), a leggy
femme fatale who wears mini skirts and oozes sex. When her attempts to seduce
Figg leave him paralyzed with fear because of his allegiance to his new
girlfriend, the equally virginal waitress Ema Letha (Elaine Joyce), Glorianna
gets Figg drunk, takes some embarrassing photos of him and then proceeds to have
him sign a stream of incriminating documents that he has not bothered to read.
Before long, Figg is blamed for all the missing funds and faces a jail
sentence- unless he and the dim-witted Prentiss can figure out how to use the
computer to thwart the real crooks.
Imprint, the Australian video label, is releasing "The Avengers: The Tara King Collection" as a region-free Blu-ray set on 29 November. Here are the details:
John Steed fights crime and diabolical masterminds in his own inimitable manner with nonchalant efficiency, sophistication, and charm. With the departure of Mrs. Peel (Diana Rigg), Steed (Patrick Macnee) has acquired a new assistant, Tara King (Linda Thorson), who relies less on judo and more on feminine guile to dispatch her assailants. Miss King will use a coo or a kiss rather than a karate chop, not to mention an occasional brick-in-the-handbag technique! Emotional, earthy, cunning, Tara is thoroughly emancipated, while remaining essentially feminine. This is her real distinction and it makes her devastating!
In this stunning celebration of the Tara King era, The Avengers probe 33 colourful adventures in stunning high-definition, with a bountiful collection of vintage and new Special Features.
Plus an additional disc brings together early episodes from the first two seasons of the series and audio reconstructions for Series 1 lost episodes.
A second bonus disc features the worldwide Blu-ray debut of Patrick Macnee’s 1970 post-Avengers crime caper Mister Jerico, sporting a brand NEW 2K scan from the original negative.
11 DISC BLU-RAY SET + 120 page collectable booklet in LIMITED EDITION HARDBOX packaging.
THE AVENGERS SERIES 6 – all 33 episodes on 9 discs
Special Features and Technical Specs:
1080p high-definition presentation from the original 35mm elements
Collectable double-sided Hardbox packaging – 1500 copies only
NEW! 120-page booklet featuring an essay by television writer / historian Andrew Pixley, and Press/Story Information from the original studio files
Original ‘as broadcast’ mono audio track (LPCM) and “The Avengers in Color” opening slate
NEW! Audio Commentary on “The Forget-Me-Knot” by filmmakers Samuel Clemens and George Clemens (2023)
NEW! Audio Commentary on the Terry Nation scripted episode “Invasion of the Earthmen” by writer/film critic Kim Newman and screenwriter/author Robert Shearman (2023)
Audio Commentary on “Split!” by writer/producer Brian Clemens and director Roy Ward Waker
NEW! Audio Commentary on “LOOK! (stop me if you’ve heard this one) But There Were These Two Fellers…” by filmmakers Samuel Clemens and George Clemens (2023)
NEW! Never-before-released Video Commentary on “All Done With Mirrors” featuring actress Linda Thorson, director Raymond Austin, composer Howard Blake, producer Brian Clemens recorded on-stage at “THE AVENGERS AT 50” event in 2011
Audio Commentary on “All Done With Mirrors” by actress Linda Thorson and Paul O’Grady
Audio Commentary on “Game” by director Robert Fuest
Audio Commentary on “Noon Doomsday” by actress Linda Thorson and Paul O’Grady
2nd Audio Commentary on “Noon Doomsday” by stuntwoman Cyd Child
NEW! 3rd Audio Commentary on “Noon Doomsday” by filmmakers Samuel Clemens and George Clemens (2023)
Audio Commentary on “Killer” by guest actress Jennifer Croxton
Audio Commentary on “The Morning After” by director John Hough
Audio Commentary on “Love All” by writer Jeremy Burnham and guest actress Veronica Strong
NEW! Audio Commentary on “Fog” by film historians Jonathan Rigby and Kevin Lyons (2023)
NEW! Audio Commentary on “Thingumajig” by film historians Jonathan Rigby and Kevin Lyons (2023)
NEW! Audio Commentary on “Bizarre” by television historians Dick Fiddy (of the British Film Institute) and Henry Holland (2023)
Video Introductions to “The Interrogators”, “Love All”, “Take Me To Your Leader”, “Pandora”, “Thingumajig” and “Requiem” by Linda Thorson
Video Introduction to “Whoever Shot Poor George Oblique Stroke XR40?” by director Cyril Frankel
NEW! Audio Recollection on “Get-A-Way!” by guest actor Peter Bowles
“THE AVENGERS AT 50” – Interviews captured at the 50th Anniversary celebration of the series, held at Chichester University (2011)
Helicopter arrival and Audio Commentary by Linda Thorson and Paul O’Grady
NEW! Linda Thorson introduces video message from Patrick Macnee
NEW! “The Impact of The Avengers” – panel discussion with Linda Thorson, Paul O’Grady, director Raymond Austin, actor John Carson and author Alwyn Turner
NEW! “The Music of The Avengers” – Themes from the series (and The New Avengers) performed by the Chichester University Orchestra
Interview with Linda Thorson by Paul O’Grady
“The Two Sides of Tara King” – with Linda Thorson and stuntwoman Cyd Child
Interview with director John Hough
Interview with director Robert Fuest
Interview with composer Howard Blake
Interview with director/stunt co-ordinator Raymond Austin (NEW! Complete unreleased version)
“In the Footsteps of Tara King” – interview with Linda Thorson by Oliver Kalkofe (2010)
“Wish You Were Here” – Locations featurette
“Avenging The Avengers” – featurette on the series (1992) plus additional unused interviews
“Thriller: Lady Killer” – complete episode from the ATV series starring Linda Thorson, written by Brian Clemens (in Standard Definition)
“Return of the Saint: The Roman Touch” – complete episode of the ITC action series guest starring Linda Thorson (in Standard Definition)
Archival Vault Material
“Introducing Linda Thorson” – Vintage Promotional Trailer
“Girl About Town” – Vintage Promotional Short Film about Linda Thorson with optional Audio Commentary by Linda Thorson and Paul O’Grady
Artists Screen Tests – vault film of various actresses auditioning to be the new “Avengers Girl” (mute with optional Audio Commentary)
“Invasion of the Earthmen” – Alternative U.S. End Credits
Series 6 Textless Closing Credits with theme music
U.S. ABC Network Commercial Break Bumpers
“Mit Schirm, Charme Und Melone” – German Opening Titles / Closing Credits
“Granada Plus Points” for “The Forget-Me-Knot” featuring Patrick Macnee
Extensive Photo Galleries from the studio archives
Bonus Disc 1: The Avengers – The Early Years
“Hot Snow Act 1” – the only surviving material from the very first episode of Series 1, with optional Audio Commentary by producer Leonard White (in Standard Definition)
“Girl on the Trapeze” – the complete 6th episode from Series 1 (in Standard Definition)
“The Frighteners” – the complete 15th episode from Series 1 (in Standard Definition)
“Bullseye” – the complete 8th episode from Series 2, with optional Audio Commentary by actress Honor Blackman and Paul O’Grady
“Warlock” – the complete 16th episode from Series 2, with optional, NEW!previously unreleased Audio Commentary by Honor Blackman and story editor Richard Bates recorded at “THE AVENGERS AT 50” event in 2011
14 Audio Reconstructions for missing Series 1 episodes
“THE AVENGERS AT 50” – Interview with producers Leonard White and Brian Tessler, actresses Honor Blackman and Julie Stevens (2011)
Bonus Disc 2: Mister Jerico (1970)
1970 crime caper produced by ITC as the pilot to a proposed new Patrick Macnee series, but ultimately aired as a one-off television film, and theatrically exhibited in some territories.
NEW! 1080p high-definition presentation of a 2023, 2K scan from the original camera negative by Imprint, with grading by award-winning colourist Jonathan Wood
NEW! Audio Commentary by television historians Dick Fiddy (of the British Film Institute) and Henry Holland (2023)
NEW! Restoration Featurette
Original Theatrical Trailer (previously unreleased)
If something seems too good to be true, it's probably going to turn out to be too good to be true. Amazon Prime's streaming service has offered an exceptional library of new, original series and films as well as a treasure trove of retro movies that can be streamed commercial-free. That will come to an end in early 2024 when "ad-free" streaming will now command an additional monthly fee of $2.99 in the USA for customers who currently pay $14.99 a month. International customers will presumably be charged the approximate amount in local currency. There will be no increase in fees if you're willing to see classic movies interrupted by advertisements. If you're reading Cinema Retro, you're probably as snooty as we are about how we watch the movies we love. However, the truth is that the general public is very undemanding when it comes to movie viewing. That's how American cable TV channels can still find people who will sit through a telecast of censored versions of "Apocalypse Now" or "Jaws" along with many other classics with accompanying ads for everything from cars to hemorrhoid medicine. While it isn't our intention to carry water for Amazon, the increased price still seems reasonable for gaining access to so many films including plenty of titles that are not available on home video. For more, click here.
The first time that I heard of the name Nat Segaloff was in
1990 when I purchased his new book at the time, Hurricane Billy: The Stormy
Life and Films of William Friedkin. I eagerly read through it in no time as
The French Connection, Mr. Friedkin’s Oscar-winning film for Best
Picture and Best Director among others, is my favorite film. It was his fifth
feature as a director, and it put Mr. Friedkin on the map following the
disappointing box office performance of his first four films. However, the
critical praise and box office success of this real-life-inspired police drama
which contains two of cinema’s greatest action set pieces would not truly
prepare audiences for his follow-up film.
Mr. Friedkin’s The Exorcist, a film adaptation of the
best-selling 1971 William Peter Blatty novel of the same name, opened
theatrically on Wednesday, December 26, 1973 on no less than twenty seven
theater screens, one of which was the Cinema 57 which was part of the Sack Theatre
chain in Boston, MA. Mr. Segaloff was a publicist and was tasked with playing
door guard to a top-secret pre-arranged screening of the film on Christmas
morning to a handful of critics who were there to get their reviews in their
respective papers earlier than usual. This incident is recounted in his preface
to his latest book, The Exorcist Legacy: 50 Years of Fear, the title of
which brings to the forefront the shocking revelation of just how many years
have transpired since Regan MacNeil’s head spun around. The film is something
that I had heard about for years prior to becoming a fan of scary cinema and I
was unsure how much of it was rumor or fact. I recall purchasing The
Exorcist on VHS in February 1986 seven months before I saw The French Connection.
It was in the oversized clamshell box by Warner Home Video and while I was
impressed with it, it did not scare me in the slightest. However, I have spoken
to other people who saw the film in their teenage years and refused to view it
ever again. A September 1996 viewing of the film to a sold-out screening at
Radio City Music Hall, introduced by both lead actress Ellen Burstyn and the
director in-person, solidified the film’s stature as a masterpiece in my mind.
The release of the film on DVD in a 25th anniversary edition whetted
the appetite of those who would see the film theatrically two years later when The
Exorcist: The Version You’ve Never Seen was released which would include
changes and additional footage. The Blu-ray of the film in 2010
in the extended director’s cut was by no means the final word, as in 2013 a 40th anniversary
Blu-ray added a nice documentary and extended interviews with the author. Just
in time for the 50th anniversary, the film is now bowing in 4K UHD.
Following a foreword by John A. Russo of Night of the
Living Dead fame, Mr. Segaloff begins his book, which is comprised of
sixteen chapters and lasting just over three hundred pages in length, from the
correct presumption that the film is a misunderstood classic. He agrees with
the assessment by both Mr. Blatty and Mr. Friedkin that the film is many things
except the horror film that it is widely revered as since the time of its
release, though audiences have other opinions. We are treated to many interesting
tidbits: the hilarious story of how Mr. Friedkin met Mr. Blatty and how the
former’s honesty solidified a working relationship and lifelong friendship with
the latter, with Mr. Friedkin being the sole director that Mr. Blatty wanted
from the get-go; Warner Brothers’ initial reluctance to hire Mr. Friedkin until
the release of his brilliant The French Connection in 1971 garnered
sudden critical and financial success and changed the game completely; the
original 1949 real-life case of a young possessed Maryland boy; Mr. Blatty’s
writing of the novel; the making of the film; a multitude of issues that beset
the film’s production giving way to the supposed “curse” on the set; the
controversy surrounding the release of the film; in-depth looks at the much-maligned
Exorcist II: The Heretic (1977) and the superior The Exorcist III
(1990), the latter both written and directed by Blatty; the prequels and
television series, and the little-known The Ninth Configuration. If
you’re even just a passing fan of the film, the book is a must read.
Mr. Segaloff was gracious enough to speak with me from his
home in Los Angeles by phone regarding the book. Unfortunately, the day I
contacted him about the interview was the same day that Mr. Friedkin had passed
away, a fact that I was unaware of until an hour later. Mr. Segaloff wanted to
press on with the interview, however, which amazed me as he knew Mr. Friedkin
for nearly fifty years.
Todd Garbarini: Where are you from originally?
Nat Segaloff: I was born in Washington, D.C., and
raised in Silver Spring, Maryland, which is a good long way from Cottage City,
Maryland, where that little boy was possessed in 1949. We were not possessed in
Silver Spring. Silver Spring was a very strange place. It was the nation’s
largest unincorporated city, about one hundred thousand people, and nobody
taking out the garbage.
I was able to leave and go to school in Boston, and there, I
not only ran the major movie program on campus, I also insinuated myself into
both the city’s professional film scene and the then-burgeoning underground
film scene. Of course, we’re talking the 1960’s.
When I graduated from college, I started doing publicity for
the film companies in town and, after a while, moved to New York to do it
there, then moved back to Boston and became a critic. All of that served as
fodder for the books I’ve written and for the people I’ve met because I’m a
kind of a demimonde. A lot of people remembered me from when I was a publicist,
but then when I became a reporter, they thought I was still a publicist, and
they trusted me. It’s a very odd combination, and I sometimes had to tell
people, “You know, I’m a reporter now.” I was able to keep close to a lot of
people that I’d met doing publicity, like Robert Altman, James Bridges, Paul Mazursky,
and John Milius.
TG: A lot of people I’ve spoken with who
work in the film industry didn’t go to the movies or even see films on
television until they were much older. Did you do the same thing, or did you
get into them later?
NS: Back when I was a pod, the only way to
see an old movie was on late-night television. I stayed up till one-thirty in
the morning to view The Jazz Singer on Washington television because
there was no way I was otherwise going to see it. There was no video, and you
couldn’t even rent a 16-millimeter print of it. Later, there were revival
theaters in Washington where I attended occasionally, but you still had to wait
for something to appear. Only when I went away to school and ran the film
program was I seeing movies every weekend, because I had to make sure people
weren’t smoking in the theater. That was my job. I was managing the campus
theater. I saw a lot of movies in class and in theaters, and it was wonderful.
Between that and being a critic, I must have spent thirty years watching a
couple of movies a week, and then I just burned out completely.
TG: As much as I love watching movies, I
don’t know that I would be able to do that! Do you have an all-time favorite
movie?
NS: The easy answer is Citizen Kane.
It certainly is the source of so much inspiration and technique for everybody
who makes movies. I don’t think it’s possible to cite one particular film.
Whatever pleases you at the time that you’re open to, it’s a film that becomes
your favorite. I also like His Girl Friday. No connection between those,
except they’re both about newspapers.
TG: Are you drawn to movies about reporters
and publicists?
NS: It turns out that I am drawn to
movies about reporters. Certainly, Sam Fuller’s Park Row is a movie that
makes me cry, not because it’s sad, but because it reminds me of the days when
I was writing for real newspapers. No, I don’t find myself glomming onto any
particular kind of film, be it science fiction, horror, drama, musical, or
anything else. I just like a good movie.
TG: So, you don’t consider yourself partial
to certain genres?
NS: I think that so many genres,
particularly horror or suspense films, seem to have a playbook, and I don’t
like films that go where you know they’re going to go. I remember something
Jonathan Demme said about the script for his film Something Wild. He
said you literally didn’t know from one page to the next what was going to
happen. I like to see that on the screen. I like films that have what I call an
“Oh, shit!” moment. The first one I remember was, of course, 2001: A Space
Odyssey, just before the intermission, when we realized that HAL was
reading the astronauts’ lips, and that was the moment where the whole audience sort
of exclaimed, “Oh, shit!” [laughs]. There are also other movies like A
Beautiful Mind with that kind of moment, or a movie that very few people
remember that Stephen Fears made called Dirty Pretty Things.
TG: Yes, that’s with Audrey Tautou from Amelie.
NS: Yes. I was watching it in a small
theater, and not only did we all say, “Oh, shit,” but we all stayed through the
credits and then stood up and congratulated each other after the movie for
seeing that film.
TG: You’ve written and published a good
number of books on The Towering Inferno, the Scarface films, the
Hollywood Code, John Milius, William Friedkin and Harlan Ellison. Your latest
book, The Exorcist Legacy: 50 Years of Fear, is quite an accomplishment.
It begins on Christmas Day in 1973. You were working for the Sack Cinema 57 on
Stuart Street in Boston.
NS: Yes. I was their publicity director in
1973 when The Exorcist was scheduled to be released on Wednesday,
December 26th. One of our critics, Stuart Byron, who knew the
industry really well, was able to inveigle William Friedkin to permit a
day-before screening so that the weekly papers, which catered to the young
audience, would be able to meet their deadlines. So, I hosted this greeting of The
Exorcist on Christmas morning.
For some reason, the critics had no problem leaving the
bosom of their families to come and see a movie about a little girl whose head
spins around. I didn’t see the movie that day. I was standing in the lobby
guarding the door so the people who weren’t invited couldn’t get in. Nobody got
sick. We didn’t know we were supposed to throw up. Of course, the Technicolor
yawns began the very next day.
TG: Did you have any inkling what that film
was like? Based upon the lobby cards, the marketing of the film by Warner
Brothers, did you have any idea what was going on behind those doors?
NS: I had no idea what was going to be
going on, “on this street in that house in a little girl’s bedroom.” [laughs]
I had read the book, of course. The only glimpse we had was a teaser trailer
that went 30 seconds with the narration I just did for you. It was simply a
shot of the poster of Max von Sydow standing outside of the house. That’s all
anybody knew. There were no pictures, nothing. In fact, there was an embargo on
anything from the film. I think it was either Time or Newsweek
who ended up sued by Warner Brothers because somebody sneaked into the theater
and got a picture of Regan in makeup and ran it. That was considered a breach
of copyright, a very secret thing. The audiences, as you know, would file out
ashen. The audiences waiting to get in would know that something weird was
going on in there, and it became an emotional rollercoaster for them.
TG: Now, I of course, didn’t live through
this. Was this a similar reaction like when Psycho came out? Psycho
had been a novel first, and then the film was released and it was all
hush-hush, “don’t give away the ending.”
NS: I wasn’t old enough to see Psycho
when it came out. I do know, of course, that Hitchcock specified that nobody be
allowed in once the film had started. That made a certain groundswell of public
opinion. The film that was closest to The Exorcist when I was that age
was Night of the Living Dead, which had a reputation for being gross,
scary, and horrifying. The fact that it was shown at midnight to a bunch of
kids who were probably high made additional impressions on people. A black and
white film with blurry pictures from an indie source in Pittsburgh was not the
same thing as a beautifully photographed color film from Warner Brothers.
Incidentally, John Russo, who co-wrote Night of the Living Dead, wrote
the forward to The Exorcist Legacy.
TG: What was your introduction to William
Friedkin’s work? Had you seen any of his previous films?
NS: I had seen The Birthday Party.
It was on a sneak preview where Walter
Reade’s Continental Releasing was trying to get a booking for it, and I
saw it in Boston. That wasn’t the film that I was there to see. The Birthday
Party was just stunning. Robert Shaw, Patrick Magee, I mean, just a
beautifully contained job. I’d also seen The Night They Raided Minsky’s,
and thought it was lovely, but I didn’t really realize it was a William
Friedkin film. I had missed Good Times with Sonny and Cher, which I’ve
seen since then. Then of course, The French Connection came out. I was
late seeing The Boys in the Band because I was in school at the time
when it played in theaters. I caught it later. The French Connection
naturally was the one that galvanized everybody. In fact, at the theater that
showed it in Boston, which is where I was working at the time, people would
come in early when they knew that the car chase was going to start, and they’d
see the chase and stay through to watch the film all through again so they
could get in and see the chase twice. We had to clear the theater. It was
remarkable with that on a huge screen. The vertigo was just phenomenal. It was
just a staggering effect because I don’t think anybody had ever mounted a
camera on the bumper of a car before Billy did it.
TG: That’s what blows me away about his
cinema. He did things that we had never seen before.
NS: Yes, including racing through the
streets of New York without permits. Randy Jurgensen will tell you one thing.
Sonny Grosso would tell another. Billy Friedkin would tell you something else. There’s
no agreement. From what I understand, and I trust Randy, is that they simply
ran the car. They didn’t have any siren on the car to warn people because, as
Randy said, if you put a siren on the car, people look at the car and they don’t
want people looking at the car. Billy sat in the back, Bill Hickman drove, and
they just tore ass through Brooklyn. If anybody stopped them, Randy said he’d
just flash his badge saying, “Fellow officer, let us go.” You could do that
then. You could get away with it.
TG: So much of what you could get away
with, you can’t do now because of small security cameras and the Internet.
NS: Yes. We’re living, as John Milius said,
under the booted foot of the lifeguard state.
TG: How did this book about The Exorcist
Legacy come about? When did you start thinking about it? Had it been
something gestating in your mind for some years? Had you started writing it a
long time ago in anticipation of the 50th anniversary?
NS: I could tell you my publicity line,
which is that I’ve been possessed by The Exorcist for 50 years, but in
fact, I’d acquired a wonderful new agent, Lee Sobel, at the end of 2020. We
were thinking what kind of books we could possibly sell. Anniversary books
seemed to work well. What film was having a 25th, a 40th, or a 50th
anniversary? We figured, well, with a year and a half or two of lead time, that
makes it 2023. I said, “The Exorcist is going to be 50.” Bang, he sold
it in a matter of days.
TG: Did you approach John Russo
specifically to do the forward?
NS: John Russo was approached by my editor,
James Abbate, who knows him and has worked with him. He very graciously did the
forward to the book.
TG: Yes, John is very nice. I go to horror
conventions that they have and most of the cast of my favorite horror films
come and speak about them. Night of the Living Dead was one of them. I
got to meet John there and talk with him at length about the films and all. I
just love the behind-the-scenes stories that you haven’t read and haven’t been
published. It gives you a real look into the film, a new appreciation, of the
movie, whatever that movie may be.
NS: There are some very good people out
there. The great thing about writers is that we tend to help each other.
Whenever I need an author’s query or information, it’s always the writers who
come through first, like yourself.
TG: As far as TheExorcist Legacy
is concerned, who was the first person you spoke to? Did you go straight to
Billy?
NS: I didn’t go to Billy at all for The
Exorcist Legacy. There was a reason for that, which is that I had all the
answers I needed back in 1988 to 1990 when I wrote his biography. In those
days, The Exorcist was merely a hit. It wasn’t a classic yet. The
stories, I believe, were closer to the source. I also had the good fortune to
speak to Ellen Burstyn, whom I adore, and who I believe is our finest American
actress of our generation.
TG: I agree, she’s phenomenal.
NS: She’s amazing. I had spoken to William
Peter Blatty at great length. We’d been friends and kept in touch over the
years. A lot of his material in the book is material that I could not publish
while he was alive. He was very frank about his relationship with film studios.
As he hand-wrote on the side of a transcript that I sent him for approval, as
you do, he said, “Nat, don’t print this. I’ve got enough problems.” He was a
warm, funny, and wonderful man.I’ve become friends with his oldest son,
Mike, since the book came out. In fact, I saw him at a signing the other day.
He happened to be in town. I’m very happy to keep up my connection with the
Blatty family.
TG: Oh, sure. Whom did you speak to at
great length for the book?
NS: I did it two years ago and it was with
Terry Donnelly, who was the first assistant director and unit manager. I had
worked on a film with Terry years ago. We picked up where we left off and he
was able to tell me about the behind-the-scenes facets. I spoke to Craig McKay,
who is a film editor. He cut TheSilence of the Lambs among other
films. He’s very good. He was a kid when he was starting out on The Exorcist,
there to pick up pieces. He had some wonderful stories. I did speak to Jeremy
Slater, who was the showrunner for the Exorcist television series, and
of course, David Gordon Green, who has a new Exorcist film coming out. I
had a lot of the material from when I wrote Hurricane Billy (Billy’s
biography). I was able to use that. What can I say, covering all these films,
two sequels, two prequels, and each of them was recut? It was a lot to write
about.
TG: How do you keep track in your head just
of all these different versions of these movies? As much as I love films, I
really find it so hard to be able to keep track of the director’s cut, or the
original cut, and this one runs this number of minutes, etc. I’ve always
admired Tim Lucas’s review of movies in Video Watchdog for that reason
because it’s encyclopedic, the amount of information that he has on all these
films and how he would do all the video comparisons. How did you find doing
that? Was that something that came easily to you because you had seen the film
so many times in different versions?
NS: Tim Lucas is one of the people in the
book, as is Mark Kermode. We’ve known each other for so many years that we don’t
even think about it. With the different versions of The Exorcist, which
I’m not very happy with, I guess, three of them, or maybe four, depending on if
you count one of them twice, I think the original is the best version, except
for a couple of scenes that are put in “The Version You’ve Never Seen,” so it’s
very hard. I would like to do my own fan edit, but I think I’ve watched The
Exorcist enough by now.
TG: Was there anybody you wanted to
interview for this book whom you weren’t able to interview because they either passed
away or you were unable to contact?
NS: Linda Blair.
TG: What was the first Billy Friedkin film
that you were on the set of?
NS: The Brink’s Job
in the summer of 1978. I was there for Evening Magazine, which was the
version of PM Magazine that was run on the stations that were owned by
Westinghouse.
TG: Oh, I remember PM Magazine. That’s
where I first saw Matt Lauer.
NS: Billy allowed our cameras on the set,
which is funny because he just kicked the publicity cameras for Paramount and Universal
off the set, and he let us on. We had wonderful footage of Peter Falk and the
cast. Dean Tavoularis had done a reconstruction of the Brink’s system as it was
in 1951 when the robbery took place. It was a magnificent set. There was an
incident where some local tough guys broke into the editing offices, took
footage, and wanted to hold it for ransom to shake down the production. As it
happened, I had the only footage of Brink’s and I was with a TV station, but I
couldn’t get my TV station to run their own footage because we had shot
non-union. That was Westinghouse. That’s why they’re not around anymore. Westinghouse
was the Pazuzu of television. I was also on the set of one of Billy’s films in
Montreal when I was writing the book (the 1988 TV-movie C.A.T. Squad: Python
Wolf). You don’t learn a whole lot on a set. William Goldman is right. The
most exciting day of your life is your first day on a movie set, and the most
boring day of your life is your second day on a movie set.
TG: I’ve seen a handful of films being shot.
It’s fairly boring, I must say.
NS: I will correct you on one thing. Billy
Friedkin didn’t allow chairs on his sets. You stand around.
TG: Christopher Nolan is like that. He
doesn’t allow them either.
NS: He’s right! James Cameron has a nail
gun (like in No Country for Old Men), and if anybody’s cell phone rings,
he nails it to a prop.
TG: Holy Jeez! Is there anything that I
haven’t covered that you wanted to say about the book?
NS: The book goes into not just the
original Exorcist, but the sequels and prequels. That’s something that
people don’t consider because nobody ever intended The Exorcist to be a
franchise. It became a franchise when Morgan Creek bought the rights from Bill
Blatty, and they are now trying to revive it, of course, with the October
release of The Exorcist:Believer.
TG: Have you seen that?
NS: No, I haven’t seen it yet. I’m looking
forward to it. I do know that I really like David Gordon Green, who was very
kind to me. He probably shouldn’t have been talking about the film. He did
because I had a year and a half lead time for the book, and it’s in there. I
was disappointed in the prequel, both Dominion, which was Paul Schrader’s
version, and Exorcist: The Beginning, which was Renny Harlin’s. Although
I think there’s a lot in Paul Schrader’s version, I’ve been saying the
difference between them is that Paul Schrader made a film where Renny Harlan
made a movie. I think that both films had trouble because people expect an
exorcism Exorcist movie and what they got was CGI. That’s not the same
thing. CGI is not the real thing. That’s what distinguishes The Exorcist;
what made The Exorcist work was that it was real. The things that
happened in front of the camera actually happened. Linda Blair really floated,
the bed really shook, doors really cracked, things really fell over. Curtains
really blew on closed windows. They didn’t happen because anybody was
possessed. They happened because Dick Smith created brilliant makeup and Marcel
Vercoutere had incredibly complicated mechanical effects, but they all happened
in front of the camera so that it looked real. That’s the documentary nature of
Billy’s filmmaking and why he believes in reality. That, I believe, will be his
ultimate legacy on film, which is that he made the movies look real. Of course,
now most of the movies look like fantasy. We’ve lost that.
TG: Yes. Steven Spielberg would agree with
that statement. He likes to see everything real in front of the camera. He does
realize that in today’s day and age, you do have to use computer graphics, and
that’s really came to fruition with Jurassic Park. Before that, he wondered
how they were going to make the dinosaurs run.
NS: It’s true. He tried stop motion, but he
didn’t want to make Jurassic Park until he could do it right. Not
everybody has that. They’ll say, “Well, the audience won’t know.” No, no, they know.
The audience doesn’t know what’s called the uncanny valley, but it is the
uncanny valley.
TG: I want to thank you very, very much for
taking the time to speak with me about the book.
NS: Thank you so much. I do want to say something about
Billy who, as you know, died just twenty-two days shy of his 88th birthday. He
was a friend for fifty years and an inspiration, not just for his films, but
for his personality: he didn’t cotton to bullshit which, of course, is the coin
of the realm in Hollywood. Billy was a very brave man because I can’t think of
many other directors, except maybe Brian De Palma, who let somebody write a
book about them while they were still working. He did that for me and launched
my career as a writer. I love him and I miss him. And thank you, Todd and
Cinema Retro, for giving me the chance to say that on the record.
Thanks to the Criterion Collection for making us aware of this shoebox arthouse cinema in Juneau, Alaska, which provides creative and diverse programming to grateful local residents. All movie lovers will wish they had a similar venue in their hometown!
In the wake of their success co-starring in John Huston's The Maltese Falcon, Warner
Brothers realized they had captured lightning in a bottle with the
teaming of Sydney Greenstreet and Peter Lorre. The studio quickly paired
the two character actors again in the Bogart films Casablanca and Passage to Marseilles. In 1944, Warners decided to give Greenstreet and Lorre what amounted to starring roles in the thriller The Mask of Dimitrios, based
on the Eric Ambler novel and set in pre-WWII Europe. (Lorre received
fourth billing in the film behind Greenstreet, Zachary Scott and Faye
Emerson, but in terms of screen time, he is the star of the movie.)
Lorre plays Cornelius Leyden, a mild mannered crime novelist who is
visiting Istanbul, where he becomes intrigued by the murder of a man
named Dimitrios, who was a local legend in terms of his criminal
activities. Dimitrios's body has washed ashore, as shows evidence that
he has been stabbed to death. Sensing a good story in the murder, Leyden
pursues the man's background and finds out he was known throughout
Europe for his audacious crimes. Leyden decides to track down those who
interacted with Dimitrios, including jilted partner and abandoned
girlfriends. All agree that he was a charismatic cad who worked his way
up from petty crimes in Istanbul to being an integral part of Europe's
pre-war espionage activities. Leyden is followed in his footsteps by
Peters (Sydney Greenstreet), an affable man of mystery who is also
obsessed with tracking down Dimitrios's acquaintances and activities
leading up to the man's death. After a rocky introduction at the point
of Peters' gun, the two men forge an alliance and travel through Turkey,
Yuguoslavia and finally Paris in their quest. Along the way, they
determine that Dimitrios is very much alive and well, having used
another man's murder as an opportunity to fake his own death. Peters is
determined to use that information to blackmail Dimitrios and thus
ensure acquiring enough money to afford a comfortable retirement.
Much of the story is told in flashbacks as various individuals relate
their experiences with Dimitrios to Leyden and Peters. As played by
Zachary Scott, Dimitrios lives up to his legend as handsome womanizer
and persuasive businessman, though each of his friends and partners ends
up being abruptly jilted in some manner, as Dimitrios moves on to his
next scam. (Jack Warner had high hopes for Scott becoming the studio's
next great leading man, but his interest in promoting Scott seemed to
wane and the actor never really acquired the stardom that his role in
this film would seem to have assured.) Leyden and Peters also meet
Irana, an entertainer in a squalid Istanbul cafe, who relates how
Dimitrios became her lover and ensured that her fortunes improved.
However, when she loaned him her savings, he abandoned her, never to be
heard from again. Although nursing a broken heart and bearing resentment
for the man on one level, she admits she still carries a torch and his
abandonment of her left her in a depressed state of mind that still
continues. (Apparently, once you've experienced Dimitrios, no other man
comes to close as a lover.) As Leyden and Peters close in on their prey,
the stakes become higher - and they realize their lives are very much
at risk.
The Mask of Dimitrios, ably directed by Jean Negulesco, is a joy to watch. It doesn't have the artistic pretensions of The Maltese Falcon and Casablanca, but
it is a thoroughly entertaining movie. Lorre and Greenstreet's "Mutt
and Jeff" act continues to present them as essentially the same
character in film after film, but that doesn't in any way compromise the
delight of watching these two eccentric actors at the peak of their
careers. The supporting performances are also equally delightful and the
film bares all the rich artistic hallmarks of a WB release from the
era.
The Warner Archive has released the film on DVD. The
transfer is excellent. An original trailer is included that features
specially-filmed footage of Greenstreet and Lorre addressing the
audience. The DVD is region free but it's time for a Blu-ray release!
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM THE CINEMA RETRO MOVIE STORE
Australian-based video label Imprint is release the complete TV series of "Mission: Impossible" in a Blu-ray boxed set in October. The set is region-free and contains 46 discs. It is now available for pre-order.
(Prices are in Australian dollars. Use a currency converter to see what the price is in your local currency.)
"BLAST FROM THE PAST: FROM THE CINEMA RETRO ARCHIVES"
By Lee Pfeiffer
"Saturday Night Live" spawned many a memorable comic character, some of whom were exploited in feature films. While "The Coneheads" proved to be popular on the big screen, other TV-to-cinema transfers of iconic "SNL" pop culture figures proved to be duds. Al Franken's memorable incarnation of Stuart Smalley was the subject of "Stuart Saves His Family", a 1995 production directed by Harold Ramis that received some surprisingly favorable reviews but ended up with a North American boxoffice gross of less than $1 million. That ranks as a major success compared to "It's Pat: The Movie", released the prior year and starring Julia Sweeney as the androgynous character that proved to be a popular staple of "SNL" during this period. Pat was a visually unattractive figure with an obnoxious manner of speaking that repulsed his/her coworkers, who were constantly striving to discover whether Pat was a male or female. Inevitably, Pat would provide unintentionally ambiguous answers to leading questions that would only heighten the mystery and thwart those who were seeking to unveil Pat's genetic makeup. As the subject of five-minute comedy sketches the concept worked great and Sweeney's Pat became a popular staple of the show. Then Hollywood came knocking. Fox approached Sweeney to turn the concept into a feature film. Sweeney admitted she couldn't envision how Pat could remain interesting to viewers in any format other than TV skits. After putting some development money into the film, Fox agreed and backed off only to have Disney's Touchstone Pictures ride to the rescue and give the production the green light. The result was a disaster. The film was given some sporadic openings only to be pulled within a week due to complete rejection by audiences. The movie's boxoffice gross in North America stands at $61,000. Although modestly-budgeted, the movie still had cost more than $10 million to make. Time has not been kind to dear Pat, as it boasts a Rotten Tomatoes score of 0%. Now those brave souls at Kino Lorber have released a Blu-ray of "Pat: The Movie" and, consequently, it's time to revisit the film.
The plot (such as it is) opens with Pat alienating everyone in his/her orbit with obnoxious behavior. A local store owner gives Pat items for free just to expedite his/her departure. Pat tries various career moves but inevitably loses every job due to ineptness. Just when things seem hopeless, Pat finds love with Chris (Dave Foley in a role originated by Dana Carvey on "SNL"), another androgynous individual. The two set up house together and live as a normal couple, though both seem blissfully unaware that their sexuality is a mystery to those around them. Are they a straight couple? A gay couple? Two men? Two women? A subplot is introduced in which a hunky new neighbor, Kyle (Charles Rocket) and his wife Stacy (Julie Hayden) find their lives disrupted by Kyle's increasing obsession with Pat. He is sexually attracted to him/her, much to the alarm of Stacy, and that attraction turns into a psychological mania that finds Kyle dressing like Pat and even stroking a doll that resembles him/her. Meanwhile, the hapless Pat blunders into some successful career steps by making an appearance with a rock band that leads to him/ her becoming a media sensation. When he/she drops by a radio station to visit a friend, Kathy (Kathy Griffin), who hosts a popular romantic advice show, Pat unintentionally upstages her and gets the hosting gig. Pat's success has alienated Chris, who breaks up the relationship and decides to move abroad. The finale finds Pat coming to grips with his/her faults and making a mad dash to a cruise ship line to prevent Chris from leaving the country.
The animosity extended to "Pat: The Movie", which was directed by
Adam Bernstein, is a bit difficult to understand. It isn't very good, to
be sure, but it's amusing at times and never veers into the overtly
offensive gross-out humor that characterizes many of today's comedies.
One of the main problems with the film is that there are no sympathetic
characters. I don't recall Pat being an overt narcissist on the "SNL"
sketches but here the character is mean-spirited, self-centered and
devoid of any likable behavior. Kyle is even more repulsive and barely
looks up when his wife leaves him. Now this is an absurdist comedy, to
be sure, but the best comedies allow the audience to relate to the
protagonists on some level. Jerry Lewis and Jim Carrey played klutzes
but they were klutzes you could cheer for. Not so with Sweeney's Pat.
Additionally, Sweeney's fears that the one-note concept could not be
sustained over the course of a feature film proved correct. Even with
the running time of 77 minutes, the movie plods. Still, there are some
genuine laughs, most of them centered on the traditional gag of those
around Pat becoming increasingly frustrated by their failure to
determine his/her sex. When Pat and Chris are presented with a gift of a
sexy corset, they both smile wryly and say "We'll enjoy this!"
There is also some genuine amusement in Pat's physical appearance, a
kind of grotesque version of Jerry Lewis's Prof. Kelp from "The Nutty
Professor". But the laughs are too few even for the abbreviated running
time. There also some annoyances that are due to simple sloppiness: when
Pat tries to escape a pursuer, she randomly enters a building only to
find the place is a night club hosting a packed, on-going, ear-splitting
rock concert taking place apparently in the middle of the afternoon. Such absurdities leave one to think that the film was slapped together quickly in order to make a fast buck.
Julia Sweeney tragically faced more challenges than the complete
failure of "It's Pat" with critics and the public. Around the time of
the film's release, her brother was diagnosed with a terminal illness.
After caring for him, she was diagnosed with cancer. Sweeney beat the
disease and made lemonade from the lemons life had handed her when she
wrote and starred in her acclaimed one-woman play, "God Said Hah!" which
chronicled her personal trials and tribulations through a comedic lens.
(The play would later be the basis for a documentary.) Her co-star
Charles Rocket fared worse, committing suicide in 2005. However, most of
those associated with the debacle of "It's Pat" found their careers
survived. Director Adam Bernstein went on to a highly successful career
in television. Dave Foley continues to work steadily in TV and films and
Kathy Griffin emerged as a popular standup comedienne and pundit on CNN
until her increasingly foul-mouthed rants backfired, topped by sending
around an image on social media depicting her holding the bloody,
severed head of President Trump. That stunt achieved the distinction of
being denounced by even the president's most ardent critics and Griffin
lost her CNN gig.
"It's Pat" opened and closed before the age of E mail and social
media had taken the world by storm. It's failure today would have been
the stuff of snarky jokes and cynical criticisms of all those involved.
However, because the film wasn't highly anticipated, it's failure
occurred without much notice or damage to anyone's personal reputation.
There's plenty of laughs left in dear Pat but they can mostly be found
in the original "SNL" skits. Ironically, with transgender issues now the topic of current debates, the film might have found a more receptive audience today.
The Kino Lorber Blu-ray has an impressive transfer, a teaser trailer
for the film and a gallery of other comedies available through the
company.
The next four Carry On Films come to Blu-ray in one Limited Edition Box, with an exclusive 112 page booklet featuring reproductions of the original pressbooks for the first twelve films.
Includes the worldwide Blu-ray premiere for Carry On Spying!
Carry On Spying (1964)
Worldwide first on Blu-ray! Carry On favourite Barbara Windsor makes
her debut in this outrageous send-up of the James Bond movies. Fearless
agent Desmond Simpkins and Charlie Bind, aided and abetted by the comely
Agent Honeybutt and Agent Crump, battle against the evil powers of
international bad guys STENCH and their three cronies.
Carry On Cleo (1964)
Two Brits—inventor Hengist Pod, and Horse, a brave and cunning
fighter—are captured and enslaved by invading Romans and taken to Rome.
One of their first encounters in Rome leaves Hengist being mistaken for a
fighter, and gets drafted into the Royal Guard to protect Cleopatra.
Carry On Cowboy (1965)
Stodge City is in the grip of the Rumpo Kid and his gang. Mistaken
identity again takes a hand as a ‘sanitary engineer’ named Marshal P.
Knutt is mistaken for a law marshal. Being the conscientious sort,
Marshal tries to help the town get rid of Rumpo, and a showdown is
inevitable. Marshal has two aids—revenge-seeking Annie Oakley and his
sanitary expertise.
Carry On Screaming! (1966)
The sinister Dr Watt has an evil scheme going. He’s kidnapping
beautiful young women and turning them into mannequins to sell to local
stores. Fortunately for Dr Watt, Detective-Sergeant Bung is on the case,
and he doesn’t have a clue! In this send up of the Hammer Horror
movies, there are send-ups of all the horror greats from Frankenstein to
Dr Jekyl and Mr Hyde.
Special Features:
Limited Edition 112-page booklet containing reproductions of the original pressbooks of the first 12 films (1000 copies)
Carry on Spying Audio Commentary by Bernard Cribbins and Dilys Laye
Carry on Cleo Audio Commentary by Amanda Barrie and Julie Stevens
Carry on Cowboy Audio Commentary by Angela Douglas
Carry on Screaming Audio Commentary by Angela Douglas and Fenella Fielding
Carry on Spying Textless Titles
Theatrical Trailers
Photo Galleries
Imprint limited editions tend to sell out quickly. Click here to PRE-ORDER. (Prices are in Australian dollars. Use a currency converter to see what the price is in your local currency.) The Blu-ray set is Region-Free.
A
few years ago, actress-turned-playwright Carol Hollenbeck had a Zoom meeting
with a theatre group and mentioned this fabulous red-carpet premiere in her
hometown for a movie she made in the sixties. About a month later, the group
met again on Zoom and one of the group members said to Carol, “By the way, I
found your movie.’ She quickly asked, “What movie?’ “Eden Cried,” he replied.
Carol was flabbergasted. That film had been lost for almost fifty years and from
her perspective it should have remained lost.
Carol
Hollenbeck was a starstruck teenager who had been fascinated with Hollywood
from a young age. She candidly admitted, “I didn’t want to become an actress. I
wanted to be a movie star.”
Arriving
in Hollywood in the early 1960s, she unfortunately suffered the pitfalls many
naïve young women fell victim to. However, using the stage name of Carole
Holland, she did have some small successes greatly aided by the fact that she
was a beautiful, shapely, baby doll blonde.
Carol’s
looks and poise no doubt helped her land a job as a showgirl in a stage
production of Irma La Douce, starring Juliet Prowse at the Riviera Hotel
in Las Vegas. Carol recalls, “Juliet was engaged to Frank Sinatra at the time.
She was very outspoken and yelled a lot.” She donned bikinis for a few of the
non-AIP beach movies such as The Girls on the Beach. And her adoration
of Jean Harlow gave her an indirect connection to Joseph E. Levine’s Harlow
starring Carroll Baker and a direct connection to Bill Sargent’s rival Harlow
starring Carol Lynley. She actually met with Sargent to discuss her
possibly playing the thirties sex bomb. Alas, it did not come to be. [Carol
discusses her Harlow experiences in my upcoming book Dueling Harlows: The Race
to Bring the Actress’s Life to the Silver Screen from McFarland and Co.]
What
did materialize was the female lead in the low-budget oddity, Eden Cried,
which was also known as In the Fall of ’55 …Eden Cried. It was shot
in 1965 but not shown until 1967—two years after Frankie and Annette had hung
up their surfboards. It was a sort of adult, soap opera-ish Beach Party,
set in Malibu supposedly during the mid-1950s (but everything from the costumes
to the beach scenes to dance moves scream 1960s), that showed what life was
like for teenage beach denizens off the sand. There is a fair amount of surfing
footage and scenes of young people partying on the shore.
To
alleviate all the histrionics, there is narration (that was not in the movie
when it premiered) provided by a Jack Nicholson sound-alike who makes a lot of amusing,
sardonic remarks about the characters and put-downs about Southern California
living in general. It is done in a way that evokes those dead serious 1950s
documentaries where they warned viewers about juvenile delinquency or impending
bomb threats or predatory homosexuals. It also connects scenes due to missing or
excised footage.
Carol
has some good dramatic moments as rich girl Lorraine Parker (a sexy blonde with
a big bouffant and a bad reputation) new to her high school. She falls for
rebellious senior Skip Galloway (Tom P. Pace), a surfer and grease monkey with
a bitchin’ hot rod. Pace, who was in his thirties at the time but looked
forty-five, is so miscast that it is off-putting seeing him romance the more age-appropriate
Carole or confiding to Larry Reimer as his best friend Rich or just hanging on
the sand with the teenage beach and surfing crowd. Lorraine and Skip have a
tumultuous, up-and down-relationship fueled by a drag race that ends in tragedy;
her disapproving father (Victor Izay); infidelity (tired of taking it slow,
Lorraine has sex with Rich); a suicide attempt (Lorraine downs some dolls after
Skip leaves her) that leads to a quickie marriage, and an unwanted pregnancy
that breaks the couple up. This is where the film abruptly ends without the
requisite happy ending. It also promises a sequel that never came to be—thankfully.
After
its 1967 premiere in Newburgh, Eden Cried was not released theatrically.
Unbeknownst to Carol, it surfaced in January of 1972 (it is speculated the
narration was added at this point) and was screened in a few theaters in Los
Angeles. Then in April, it popped up in Atlanta before falling back into
obscurity. In both cities, the nostalgia appeal for the fifties/early sixties
was highlighted in its print ads to draw audiences. This was just ahead of the Broadway
stage musical Grease and George Lucas’ film American Graffiti—both
of which became box office hits.
As
far as Carol knows, after being shown in Atlanta, Eden Cried was never
televised and remained a lost film until a few years ago when it surfaced on
DVD (from Video Screams). It has now become a cult curio especially for fans of
1960s drive-in movies. Carol recently appeared at a screening of the movie and
is planning on attending more of them.
Cinema
Retro: How were you
cast in Eden Cried?
Carol
Hollenbeck: I blocked
it out regarding how I was cast. I really do not know. However, if I was to
venture a guess, it was because of all the publicity I was getting at the time.
My press agent was grooming me to be the next Marilyn Monroe. The media dubbed
me “Hollywood’s Mystery Girl” because I was being photographed at discotheques
and movie premieres. My face turned up in many newspapers.
CR: Do you know what the title means?
CH: It comes from the lyrics to the
movie’s theme song [written by John Bambridge, Jr. and sung by Walter Rowen]. I
felt that the title meant young love gone wrong...
CR:
What did you think of
the ridiculous casting of Tom P. Pace as your seventeen-year-old boyfriend?
CH:
Tom was almost
thirty-five. But it is Hollywood’s mentality. I will tell you why. Everybody
knew he was too old. Somebody—probably one of the producers—said, ‘I want him.
I don’t care how old he looks, I want him.’ And that was it. He was not
physically right for the part, but they wanted him anyway. With me I was a few
years older than seventeen but I did have an appropriate California blonde
beach look. The public is fixated on that American blonde image. It has always
fascinated me about the blonde myth, the blonde fantasy—the Marilyn
Monroe-type.
CR: What do you recall about the film’s
director and screenwriter, Fred Johnson?
CH: Fred was very young. We were all
young—well except for Tom Pace. I think Fred did the best he could and was a
good writer.
CR: How did it come about that Eden
Cried had its premiere in your hometown of Newburgh, New York?
CH:
I believe someone
from Walter Reade Distributors thought of it.Eden Cried had its
premiere on June 10, 1967.They flew me
from Hollywood to New York. I was treated like a star. In Newburgh, they named
a street after me called “Carole Holland Way,” but it was only for two weeks. I
was so nervous that I didn’t go into the theater to watch it. My family and
friends knew it was not very good but did not come right out and say so. They
were nice about it.
CR: Do you know why it did not get a
national theatrical release at that time?
CH: It got caught up in some kind of
squabble between Walter Reade and the producers, so it ended up being shelved.
CR: What were your feelings like after
hearing that the film was never going to be seen?
CH: Even though the film was not great, I
thought I did a fairly decent job and it could have helped me get other roles.
But I did not stay in Hollywood long enough to promote myself and get the film
footage out, so people could see it. I just chose to dislike it and put it out
of my mind. So, when it got lost and nobody saw it, I didn’t care because I
didn’t believe it was going to take me anywhere. I walked around for many years
with shame for making this film. It didn’t seem to bring me any happiness.
CR: What did you do after leaving
Hollywood?
CJ: I moved to New York and continued
acting for a bit. I did commercials and had day parts on soap operas such as Love
Is a Many Splendored Thing and As the World Turns. I appeared in a
number of Off-Broadway plays and a few movies, most notably Tootsie
where I played an autograph hound in a scene with Jessica Lange. In the
nineties, I began writing for local newspapers and then the National
Enquirer. I then joined a women’s ensemble group and began playwrighting.
Two of my plays, Funky Fifties and The Lifters, were nominated
for the Samuel French Best One Act Plays Award.
CR: Did you ever try to find Eden
Cried?
CH: In 2017, we did a reading of my
play Hometown Premiere at the Ritz Theatre in Newburgh, where
the film premiered. The staff of the theatre searched for Eden Cried because
they wanted to use a clip of it in the staged reading, since the play was
loosely based on the film’s premiere. It could not be found. I thought
then, ‘Perhaps I should accept that I did the movie, but I won’t ever find it,’
CR: When Eden Cried finally
surfaced on DVD what was your reaction?
CH: It was being sold on DVD by
Sinister Cinema.com and I
purchased a copy. What they did to salvage the film, is they added a narration
that pokes fun of the sixties’ era. I really liked that. The film is so corny
that it’s funny. The narration gives the film a Mystery Science Theater touch.
CR: After watching fifty years later,
what surprised you the most?
CH: That I had so many costume changes.
CR: What are your feelings today toward
the movie today?
CH: I have done a 180-degree turnaround. It
is like a cult film. Now everything in my apartment is Eden Cried. The
framed movie poster is on my wall. There are twenty-four products with the Eden
Cried poster on it—t-shirts, tote bags, coffee mugs, hoodies, pillows, etc. When
I couldn’t find it, I was glad I couldn’t. But when I found it, I was glad I
did. I have embraced it and absolutely love it.
It’s
easy to lose track of time in the Bahamas – every day is sunny and beautiful
just like the day before it… and yet things DO change, especially in the almost
six decades since the EON film crew took the island by storm to shoot their
James Bond masterpiece, Thunderball.Back then it was a sleepy tropical island for the occasional cruise ship
and small numbers of tourists making the short hop from Miami. Aside from the port
city of Nassau, much of the island was undeveloped.
(Paula might be in there...)
Today
the Bahamas is a thriving tourist destination attracting almost one million
visitors annually.On most days, Nassau
hosts multiple cruise ships disgorging thousands of passengers who storm the
downtown shops and restaurants.Although
the Thunderball era is long gone, there are still remnants of it
throughout the island.With just a
couple of days, no way could I have done the deep dive that Simon Firth did in
his definitive Filming James Bond in the Bahamas, but I could visit some
of the key destinations still around after 58 years.
(Site of the original Cafe Martinique on the Atlantis property.)
Mention
James Bond and almost everyone you meet has a story – from encountering Sean
Connery to talking about Thunderball.“I used to work in that liquor store,” our airport driver said as we
rolled past a strip mall on the way to our hotel. “Mr. Connery would come in
and buy wine. He was always very nice.”As we passed a small plaza he pointed “And right there he’d have a
coffee and read a book most mornings.”It’s easy to see why Sir Sean settled in Nassau – the locals treated him
as just another resident, not the iconic film star he actually was.No autograph or photo requests, just the
famous Bahamian hospitality which gave him what all celebrities crave –
anonymity.
Still
bummed at missing the great fan-organized tours for one reason or another, this
was about as close as I was going to get…
LOVE
BEACH
In
Thunderball, the beach appeared remote and untouched, filled with palm
trees, most noticeably the one Bond spears Vargas to while delivering that
classic line, “I think he got the point.”
(Channeling Vargas on Love Beach.)
Today
Love Beach is still beautiful but now there are private homes where the lush
woods that Vargas strode through once were.I also read it took a hard hit from a hurricane some years back.The only easy access point is through a
surfside bar called Nirvana Beach which charges $5 per person for
admittance.I got the impression the
place was hopping at night, but during a weekday, there was hardly anyone.After a blazing hot walk on the beach trying
to find “THE” spot where the spear-gunning took place, I settled for a random
palm tree and my VERY patient wife took the obligatory photo before saying “I’m
f---ing melting here.”Further
exploration now out of the question, we made tracks back to the Nirvana bar for
a couple of ice-cold Kalik beers.I
mentioned that a Bond epic had been filmed at this lovely spot.“Oh, really?” was the female bartender’s
response, adding, “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” Ok, so perhaps not
everyone is a rabid fan…
DOWNTOWN
NASSAU
We
managed only a quick trip in to pick up some souvenirs and were lucky that only
one mammoth cruise ship was in port. I went over to Rawson Square which, in our
favorite film, Bond and Paula are seen walking across heading for Pinder’s
staging area.Along with a busy market,
an old government building – Churchill House – is clearly visible.Sadly, Churchill House is no more – a parking
lot now sits where it once stood.As
Joni Mitchell sang, “They paved over paradise and put up a parking lot.”
THE
SEAWALL
In
1965 this breakwater was off a sleepy beach road on Paradise Island.Here Bond infiltrates the Spectre dive team
as they suit up to move their stolen nuclear bombs. Today it’s an architectural
relic located on Cabbage Beach, now part of the massive, 154-acre Atlantis
Resort.Few if any of the guests
enjoying the beach even know it’s there!Bond aside, there are tons of things to do and see in Atlantis so buying
a day pass ($190 for adults, $95 for kids) might be worth it.Along with pools, rides, restaurants you can
also walk up to the sea wall.I reached
out to the resort a few weeks out from my trip and their PR department graciously
responded, allowing me a visit and assigning me a very personable guide named
Kool Aid who knew everything about the resort and had an impressive knowledge
of the island’s Bond locales.
We
walked from the hotel lobby through Atlantis’ underground aquarium which
boasted a variety of marine life – from huge groupers to moray eels, sharks and
more, all living in crystal-clear water pumped in from the nearby ocean.As part of “The Blue Project”, Atlantis also
operates a coral nursery where they grow this vital organism (on lengths of PVC
pipe) to replenish ailing reefs.As ocean
temperatures rise, programs like this will become more and more important so
good on the resort for stepping up.And
then we walked over a causeway to Cabbage Beach.Fifty-eight storm seasons had taken a toll on
the concrete, but the seawall was still there and looked much as it did in the
film.To say I took some photos
would be an understatement.
(CR’s Mark Cerulli with Atlantis PR rep Kool Aid - the breakwater is in the background.)
On
the way out, Kool Aid asked if I wanted to see the location of the ORIGINAL
Café Martinique.Why, yes… yes I
would!We went back through the
lobby and he pointed to a take-out pizza restaurant in a pink tower which is
where the legendary restaurant once operated.Again, it was difficult to picture the elegant and romantic Café from
the film in light of the area’s total transformation. Perhaps in a nod to the
island’s history, the resort did create another Café Martinique nearby.
On
my next to last day, I got to see (for me) the Crown Jewel of Bahamian Bond
locations –Palmyra…
LARGO’S
HOUSE
For
many years it’s been owned by a prominent Bahamian family and its local name is
“Rock Point.” Most islanders know it as “The Bond House.”The owners kindly allowed me access to the grounds.(Unoccupied for a number of years, the house
itself is firmly boarded up and there is a 24-hour guard.)Yes, it’s run down, but here it was easy to
picture it from the film – the balcony where Largo and Fiona shot clay targets is
different from 1965 but still hints at the home’s grandeur – and the ocean view
is mind-blowing.The basement doors that
Connery used to access Palmyra actually lead to the pool’s pump room - the swinging
doors themselves are long gone, but the structure is still there.
The
huge swimming pool where Bond escapes hungry sharks is intact but filled with
brackish water. Even this rabid Thunderball fanatic didn’t want to do a
lap in it – although I couldn’t resist wearing my Orlebar Brown Thunderball camp
shirt! I also noticed the pool’s cement cutout where the controls for the metal
grating used to trap Bond underwater once were.
The
circular Shark Pool where the Golden Grotto sharks were kept is still there,
but part of the outer wall has collapsed allowing ocean water to flow in and
out.Still, it would be a relatively
easy fix to restore. The estate also boasts a gorgeous private beach.The owner’s son said the family was talking
over various plans to rehabilitate the property and bring it back to its former
glory.The bones are all there – the
house appears to be structurally sound, and a coat of paint would make it look
as it did when Terence Young’s cameras were rolling.In this writer’s mind, there’s no reason it
couldn’t become another GoldenEye type destination – or the best 00 bar this
side of Duke’s!
(Casino Royale location - the former One & Only Resort.)
As
a bonus I managed to hit two more Bondian locations – The Four Seasons Resort Ocean
Club (formerly the One and Only Resort) seen in Casino Royale and
Solemar Restaurant – formerly known as Compass Point.This was a happy coincidence as we and our
friends just happened to go there for dinner.The restaurant was never in a Bond film but it was a favorite of Sean
and Micheline’s.Apparently, he used to like
their lamb chops so that’s what I had. Yesh, they were great!
(A lovely memento of Thunderball at the former One & Only Resort - now a Four Seasons.)
Many
kind thanks to Simon Firth and Jaime Ciaccia for location tips and
pointers.
(All photos copyright Mark Cerullli. All rights reserved.)
Frank
Lovejoy, Richard Carlson and Rusty Tamblyn are United States Marines sent to South
Korea in the early days of the Korean War in the 1952 film “Retreat, Hell!,” available on DVD
and Blu-ray from Olive Films. The movie follows the fictionalized exploits of a
Marine battalion during America’s “forgotten war,” one often overlooked in film
as well as in our collective memories. We follow these Marines from training at
Camp Pendleton, California, to the 1950 landing at Inchon, South Korea, followed
by their battles with North Korean and Chinese soldiers through a bitterly cold
winter. Everything goes as planned until faced with the unexpected overwhelming
response by the enemy.
The
film features a fine performance by Richard Carlson as Captain Paul Hanson.
He’s a married reserve officer and WWII veteran recalled to active service. He balances
family and the needs of the military including military deployments. Carlson’s
Captain Hanson is not happy about being recalled to active duty and moving his
family to California. Soon after arriving, he’s informed he and his men will be
spending all their time in the field training which ratchets up his resentment because
he’s not able to spend any time with his family prior to deploying to Korea.
This creates conflict between Hanson and his commanding officer and mistrust of
his leadership skills. Frank Lovejoy is his commander, Lt. Colonel Steve
Corbett, who places duty above all else.
Captain
Hanson’s wife, Ruth, is played by Anita Louise. Louise is an actress remembered
today for her work in television after she made this film. She isn’t given much
to do here with only a couple of scenes as a supportive wife and mother, but
does the best she can given the limited time to develop her character. Lovejoy is
an actor who dies too young at age 50 in 1962. He’s best remembered for a wide
variety of credits on stage, screen and television often specializing as
military men, cops and detectives. He’s very good here as the Marine commander
holding his men together as they retreat after facing overwhelming Chinese and
North Korean troops.
Carlson
is best remembered today for his work in the sci-fi classics “It Came from
Outer Space,” “Creature from the Black Lagoon” and “The Valley of Gwangi.” He appeared
in another Korean War drama, “Flat Top,” as well as the Bob Hope comedy “The
Ghost Breakers,” the 1950 version of “King Solomon’s Mines,” the Elvis drama “Change
of Habit” and scores of television series and movies. According to IMdb, John
Wayne was scheduled to appear in the movie, but backed out due to other movie
commitments. It certainly would have changed the movie, depending on the role,
if the Duke would have been cast.
Rounding
out the cast is Russ Tamblyn (billed as Rusty Tamblyn) as Private Jimmy
McDermid, fresh from basic training. Tamblyn is undoubtably the best remembered
of the cast today for his role in the David Lynch cult classic “Twin Peaks.” He
also appeared in countless classic movies including “The Haunting,” How the
West Was Won,” “The Long Ships,” “Peyton Place,” “Seven Brides for Seven
Brothers,” “Tom Thumb,” “The War of the Gargantuas” (if you haven’t seen it,
you must!), “West Side Story,” “The Wonderful World of the Brothers Grimm” and
countless other movies and television series. Tamblyn remains one of the great
underrated talents in film and television.
The
movie’s title comes from a statement made by Major General O.P. Smith,
commanding general of the First Marine Division at the Battle of Chosin
Reservoir, who was asked if he was ordering his men to retreat. The general
replied, "Retreat, Hell! We're not retreating, we're just advancing in a
different direction." In the movie, the line is spoken by Frank Lovejoy.
The phrase, “Retreat, Hell!,” is common among Marines to this day. “Advancing
in a different direction” is a phrase often repeated by military troops in all
branches.
A
co-production of United States Pictures and Warner Bros., the movie was
released in February 1952 by Warner Bros. The movie could be easily mistaken
for propaganda as it was released during the Korean War and opens with the
Marine Corps song over the titles in a score by William Lava which plays
throughout the movie. Filmed with the approval of the Marine Corps, the drama is
apolitical with a focus on the personal drama of the men caught in
extraordinary circumstances. The movie was directed by Joseph H. Lewis with a
screenplay co-written by Milton Sperling and Ted Sherdeman. All three have a
variety of big and small screen credits from low-budget thrillers to television
into the 1960s.
The
film is lacking by the obvious California locations standing in for Korea which
was commonly used in military dramas and a score which consists mostly of
variations on the Marine Corps song But the movie stands out as a small gem about
the Korean War with fine performances by Carlson, Lovejoy and Tamblyn.
Prior
to the film’s release in San Antonio, Texas, the title was changed to “Retreat,
Heck” in local radio ads because the original title was deemed offensive. Both
the DVD and Blu-ray look terrific in glorious black & white in this disc
released by Olive films. The movie clocks in at 95 minutes in a 1.37:1 aspect
ratio. Unfortunately, there are no extras on the DVD or Blu-ray. I recommend
picking up the Blu-ray, but you can’t go wrong with the DVD version if that’s
your format of choice. In both cases, the movie looks and sounds terrific, although there are no bonus features.. “Retreat,
Hell!” is recommended for fans of military movies.
(Note:
It has been announced that Olive Films has unfortunately ceased operations.
However, this video is still available on Amazon.)
We film collectors are a spoiled lot: and, yes, I include
myself in that assessment.When Australian
video label Imprint first announced their seminal Silver Screams Cinema collection in 2021, I was ecstatic.Though the now defunct U.S. based Olive Films
had already given us Blu-rays of three titles soon-to-be featured on the
Imprint set (Return of the Ape Man
(Monogram, 1944) She Devil (1957) and
The Vampire’s Ghost (Republic, 1945),
it was the Aussie’s inclusion of several long-neglected films from the vault of
Republic Pictures - Valley of the Zombies
(1946), The Phantom Speaks (1945) and
The Lady and the Monster (1944) -
that compelled one to pre-order.
The Imprint set contained almost every title a fan of
Republic’s horror-mystery offerings might desire… with one notable
exception.Where was Lesley Selander’s The Catman of Paris (1946)? It was the
one Republic horror flick I had been wishing on the longest.Decades ago I gave up hope of ever seeing any
sort of legitimate home video issue. So I sought out the serviceable – if scratchy
and hazy - gray-market bootleg long making the rounds on the collector’s market.So the exclusion of The Catman of Paris from Imprint’s otherwise magnificent Silver Screams set was a bit
frustrating.
So it was with great anticipation when Imprint’s
single-disc Blu-ray of The Catman of
Paris recently arrived.I’m pleased
to report that the release not only looks great but also arrives with a couple
of bonus features.But while this film’s
arrival on Blu-ray brings with it a satisfying sense of closure, I think it’s best
to acknowledge that The Catman of Paris
is by no means a riveting lost classic of horror cinema.Though the film holds a certain charm in my personal
nostalgia bank, The Catman of Paris often
plods along for most of its hour or so running time.But I’m still a fan.
Republic Pictures was, of course - unfairly, in my mind –
deemed a Hollywood “Poverty Row” studio.But the production values of the studio were often of high-caliber
despite meager budgets, the studio producing more than a thousand features and
serials from its inception in 1935.Though associated with Monogram Pictures – a purveyor of a number of
1940s low-rent horror and mystery pictures (which often featured the likes of
genre stars Bela Lugosi, George Zucco, Lionel Atwill and John Carradine),
Republic was late in getting on the exploitative horror-film train.I suppose it can be argued that they nearly missed
the train entirely.The studio only really
began to test the horror-picture market when public interest in such fare was clearly
on the wane.
But the studio’s first horror pic The Lady and the Monster (1944), featuring Erich von Stroheim as a cold
and humorless mad scientist, did well enough for the studio to greenlight a
double-dose of new horror in 1945:The Vampire’s Ghost and The Phantom Speaks – two films which
we’ll get to in a moment.Generally
speaking, the Republic horrors were of similar construct to Monogram’s.But unlike the Monogram films – which have
been mostly available over the years on home video due to their public domain
status – the Republic horror pics have been, until recently, almost entirely commercially
inaccessible to students of the genre.
It’s possible the Republic horror pics have been glossed
over due to the fact that, unlike the studio’s western film counterparts – which
featured such star-spangled stars as Gene Autry, Roy Rogers and John Wayne –
their horror pics offered no similar
marquee attraction.Perhaps if the
Republic horror and mysteries features offered such boogeymen as Lugosi or Boris
Karloff there might have been more of a commercial interest in getting these
out to fans and collectors.But
Paramount Pictures, the company that ultimately absorbed the Republic catalog,
seemed mostly disinterested in making available that studio’s horror film efforts.
To be fair, Republic wasn’t Universal: there actually wasn’t
a great deal of true “horrors” to choose from.In 1999, film historian Tom Weaver examined some of the Republic titles
in his tome Poverty Row Horrors!:
Monogram, PRC, and Republic Horror Films of the Forties (MacFarland).A decade- and -a -half later author Brian McFadden
published his Republic Horrors: The
Serial Studio’s Chillers.Both books
were welcome additions to the film scholar’s personal libraries.But while McFadden’s effort seemed to promise
a deeper-dive into the Republic’s long-neglected horror catalog, it mostly reminded
readers that the studio actually released very few true horror pictures during the Golden Age of the 1940s.Of the ten films chosen for examination by McFadden,
only five could justify being classified as genuine “horrors.”The remaining five titles selected were simply
mysteries with woven eerie elements.
But if Universal’s reign as the preeminent horror-movie
studio was beginning to wind down by the mid-1940s, Republic’s was just
beginning to rev up.In early May of
1945, the Los Angeles Times reported
that executives at Republic Pictures, “encouraged by the current success of The Vampire’s Ghost and The Phantom Speaks,” were already planning
a pair of thrillers of similar design.Under the watchful eye of producer William O’ Sullivan, Republic’s
newest horror pics, titled The Catman of
Paris and The Valley of the Zombies,
was to “be sold to exhibitors as a pair.”
Associate producer Marek M. Libkov told the Hollywood Reporter that their newest, The Catman of Paris, would have a
provisional start date of September 20, 1945 with casting to “start
immediately.”In fact, most of the
principal casting was already in
place by early September, though casting notices for small roles were still being
announced as late as October 5.It was also
later reported that the film’s start date would be pushed to September 22.The film’s presumed co-feature – Phil Ford’s Valley of the Zombies – was already just
shy of two weeks into production with production on The Catman of Paris set to follow immediately on its heels.But even the revised start date of September
22 is in doubt.On September 24, 1945,
the Los Angeles Times noted
production on Lesley Selander’s The
Catman of Paris was, at long last, to start “today at Republic.”
It’s of some interest that the two primary cast members
of The Catman of Paris, Carl Esmond
and Lenore Aubert, were both born in Vienna, Austria.Though neither had ever appeared in a horror
film, both already would share near-miss flirtations with real-life
horrors.Esmond left for the U.S. as
early as 1938 at the behest of MGM’s Louis B. Mayer.The actor had been performing with a touring
company in London when Nazi troops swept into Austria in March of 1938.Esmond reflected to Hollywood scribe Maxine
Garrison that Mayer dangled an MGM contract before him, warning ‘You would be
foolish not to come [to America].Europe
will be lost in war before long.”Esmond
admitted, “I had not thought of it that way, but he was right.”
Aubert too left Vienna, choosing travel to Paris.But with German troops already occupying the
City of Light, the actress also made the decision to immigrate to America.(Ironically, Aubert’s first screen credit was
for a performance as a villainous Nazi spy for Samuel Goldwyn’s They Got Me Covered (1943), an early Bob
Hope and Dorothy Lamour comedy).Though
not a household name to most cinephiles, the darkly beautiful Aubert is likely
best remembered for her performance as the sinister Dr. Mornay in the
time-tested Universal classic Abbott and
Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948).
The Hollywood trades were reporting a lot of activity on
the Republic Studios lot that first week of October of 1945… but most interest
was fixed on producer-director Frank Borsage’s ambitious and expensive Technicolor
effort Concerto.But a wandering journalist noted that only
“two stages away,” Republic’s dual monochrome horror pics, The Catman of Paris and Valley
of the Zombies, were being shot concurrently for a provisional
double-feature release.“On both sets,
the visitor must have nerves of steel,” it was reported, “to withstand sudden
appearances of perambulating cat people and corpses.”
By Thursday, October 11, 1945, the Hollywood Reporter noted that production on The Catman of Paris had wrapped on the night previous, when
“final exterior scenes were filmed on the studio’s back lot.” The report also indicated
that co-feature Valley of the Zombies
had finished shooting a mere “one day before Republic started rolling Selander’s
picture.”If true, the earlier reportage
of dual-picture sightings of “perambulating cat people and corpses” was little
more than promotional ballyhoo.
So who was this sinister cinematic Catman of Paris? Parisian police detectives are of the belief
that it’s none other than the best-selling, dashingly handsome French novelist
Charles Regnier (Carl Esmond).The
popular-selling author has recently returned to Paris following two years of
international travel – including a possibly fateful visit to the tropics.Not everyone has enjoyed his most recent
book.Regnier’s fiction-novel Fraudulent Justice has come to the
attention – and annoyance – of the French government.It seems Regnier’s narrative appears to have
been based on a true-life crime and trial: the details of which were never brought
to public scrutiny and the judicial outcome now thought a travesty of
justice.So how was it that Regnier
could accurately account so much about a secretive government trial?
Regnier has also returned to Paris to wrestle other demons.The writer suffers headaches which bring
about unexplainable subsequent episodes of amnesia.During such sessions Regnier is visited by
images of violent weather disturbances and of a mysterious black cat.Regnier’s moneyed patron, Henri Borchard
(Douglas Dumbrille), suggests Regnier’s fragile mental state is due to his having
contracted some sort of fever when visiting the tropics.There’s also a measure of astrological hokum
in the scripting mix as well.
Both Bouchard and Regnier’s publisher Paul Audet (Francis
Pierlot) are concerned that following two gruesome murders of which Regnier is
at least tangentially involved, the author’s book sales might plummet and
bankrupt the publishing house.And circumstantial
evidence of Regnier’s involvement in the murders continues to mount.The Catman’s most recent victim - Regnier’s
high-society fiancé Marguerite Duvall (Adele Mara), was recently jilted so the
author might enjoy a new romance with publisher’s daughter Marie (Lenore
Aubert).Having completely fallen for
the dashing author, Marie Audet is completely convinced of Regnier’s innocence…
until she herself is chased through a misty evening garden by a cloak and
top-hatted Catman on the prowl for her blood.
Though the film would eventually pair with Valley of the Zombies, The Catman of Paris was initially paired
on release with John English’s somewhat better-received ice-skating
musical-mystery Murder in the Music Hall.The first wave of reviews of The Catman of Paris were generally fair -
if mostly unfavorable.The Hollywood Reporter ignobly described the
film as an “absurdity,” a career embarrassments to all involved.The lugubrious screenplay of Republic scenarist
Sherman L. Lowe was decried as far too “wordy… every character uttering
editorials instead of dialog.”
There were complaints – also not unfair - that the film
displayed a curious lack of “physical action.”Variety was a bit more forgiving in its assessment,
calling the Valentine’s Day preview of The
Catman of Paris “a cross between a garden-variety whodunit and a
Jekyll-Hyde horror-meller […] that taxes belief to the breaking point.”The Christian
Science Monitor dismissed the film outright as a “routine horror story
based on far-fetched thrills.”
Despite the lukewarm reviews of both Murder in the Music Hall and The
Catman of Paris, the package managed a successful earning of $35,000 in its
first week.Which, at the very least, guaranteed
a second week of booking.Republic, presumptively
optimistic and encouraged by strong initial returns, inked producer Libkov to a
contract of three additional pictures. Though there was the inevitable revenue
fall-off in the second week of release, the trades were reporting box office
tallies in and around Los Angeles remained “good” if not showing signs of
sustained momentum. But by week three,
the box office receipts were down to disappointing four figure earnings.As the Catman
creeped regionally across the U.S. through autumn of 1946, local reviewers and small-town
theater managers found the film a mild mystery offering at best.Subsequently, four-figure weekly returns were
now the norm.
From
the vantage point of 2023, the domestic and professional situations depicted in
Mervyn Le Roy’s “Moment to Moment,” a romantic melodrama released on January
27, 1966, might as well be a portrait of an alien society.Kay Stanton (Jean Seberg) lives in a charming
rented villa in Cannes, France, thanks to her husband Neil’s sabbatical from
his tenured position as an eminent professor of psychology at Columbia
University.If you ask a professor
nowadays if he or she ever expects to receive a year’s paid leave on the French
Riviera complete with housing, the answer is likely to be, “Sure, in your
dreams.”In today’s penny-pinching,
increasingly conservative institutions of higher learning, most professors are
lucky to get tenure.
Kay
has no visible interests or pursuits outside of her role as a housewife, and
even the chores of cooking, cleaning, and supervising the couple’s well-behaved
ten-year-old son are fulfilled by paid help.Today’s overworked, stressed-out soccer moms would pant with envy, but
Kay is lonely.Neil (an archetypal
Arthur Hill role played here by . . . Arthur Hill!) is a loving husband, but he’s
on the road most of the time, happily accepting offers to lecture in London and
Edinburgh.In that pre-IT age, he and
Kay don’t even have the luxury of seeing each other on FaceTime.The best Kay can expect is a hurried call on
her landline as Neil rushes off to an appointment, and the most excitement she
can muster are the afternoon cocktails with her impish, divorced neighbor
Daphne (Honor Blackman).Daphne is as
happily promiscuous as Kay is strait-laced, offering a perpetual open house to
randy gangs of officers on leave from a nearby American Navy base.Despite her good-times facade, we eventually
learn that Daphne’s objective is as middle-class as they come, hoping
eventually to land Mr. Right in the form of a well-to-do, well-connected
commander or admiral.
For
Kay, temptation enters as she encounters Mark Dominic (Sean Garrison), a
handsome Naval ensign with ambitions as an artist.They meet when her son Timmy notices Mark
painting at an easel in town, and from there they drift into a relationship when
she offers to drive him around to scout out potential backdrops at quaint
village plazas and cafes.In the best
Soap Opera tradition of smart people who do stupid things against their better
judgment — not unlike real life, come to think of it — Kay goes to bed with
Mark one night when her son is sleeping over at a friend’s house and the
housekeeper is on vacation.Next
morning, Kay suffers remorse and tells Mark it’s over.Mark reacts angrily, a gun is brandished and
goes off, and he drops to the floor, apparently dead.Kay compounds one stupid act with another
when she convinces Daphne to help her dispose of the body.
At
that point, the movie finds its surest footing as a suspense thriller.Kay calls the police anonymously to tell them
where to find Mark, and soon the shrewd Inspector DeFargo (Grégoire Aslan) is
on the case.He suspects Kay of being
the culprit, and begins to tighten the screws by asking Neil, newly arrived
home not knowing about Kay’s infidelity, to help treat a young man with amnesia.The patient is Mark, alive but suffering a
total loss of memory beginning with the morning he met Kay.In scenes of sadistic comedy that nearly
rival Alfred Hitchcock’s best, DeFargo engineers a series of meetings with
Neil, Kay, and Mark in which various visual and acoustic clues threaten to jog
the young officer’s memory.Kay cringes,
Neil is oblivious, and DeFargo watches like a spider contemplating a fly in its
web.To say the least, it’s unorthodox
police procedure.At least he doesn’t
propose the old Hollywood remedy of smacking Mark on the head again to see if
that does the trick.Maybe he found it
more amusing to torment Kay.
“Moment
to Moment” was the final film of Melvyn Le Roy’s long and versatile career,
except for uncredited assistance on John Wayne’s “The Green Berets,” and it is
largely forgotten today even as new generations of movie buffs rediscover “Little
Caesar,” “Gold Diggers of 1933,” “The Bad Seed,” and “Gypsy.”In part, it was probably a matter of having a
B+ cast instead of an A cast.Jean
Seberg was a well-established actress, but not a proven box-office draw like
Audrey Hepburn or a rising luminary like Faye Dunaway.Sean Garrison co-starred in a short-lived TV
Western, “Dundee and the Culhane,” and then drifted into a busy but low-key
career as a supporting actor.He had the
misfortune of entering the business at the same time as dozens of other young,
good-looking hopefuls, and unlike James Brolin, Chad Everett, Harrison Ford,
Lee Majors, and Robert Redford, he never quite had the charisma or lucky break
needed to surface above the pack.
But
the main jinx for the movie was bad timing.Released the same year that “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” and “Blow-Up”
began to shake Hollywood’s taboos against explicit language and nudity, “Moment
to Moment” struck critics and probably most viewers as glossy, old-fashioned
entertainment not much racier than the TV Soap Operas of the era.Today, that very quality is likely to work in
its favor among viewers who weren’t even born in 1966.Who wouldn’t be curious about a world in
which a thirty-something woman lounges around the house in Yves Saint Laurent
dresses instead of yoga pants and a sweatshirt?The plot about marital infidelity and attempted murder is mirrored now
by true-crime podcasts and “NBC Dateline Two-Hour Events,” although the
culprits there are usually less attractive and a lot less classy than Kay
Stanton, and the cops less idiosyncratic than Inspector DeFargo.
A
new Blu-ray edition of “Moment to Moment” from Kino Lorber Studio Classics
presents the movie in a sharp, 1.85:1 image much richer than the old prints
that used to run on local TV stations in the 1980s, before “Dr. Phil” and “The
View” claimed their time-slot.Special
features include an amusing, informative audio commentary by Howard S. Berger
and Nathaniel Thompson, and a short 1966 featurette, “Moment to Moment with
Henry Mancini.”The featurette, actually
a slightly extended trailer, intercuts shots of the composer conducting his
lush score for the picture with quick scenes illustrating how the music
underlines Le Roy’s moods of romance and suspense.Would that we had more composers now as
talented as Henry Mancini, and more directors with Mervyn Le Roy’s versatility,
sharp sense of composition, and confident pace.
Imprint, the Australian-based video label, has announced some more forthcoming releases. All Blu-rays are region-free. Please keep in mind that prices quoted are in Australian dollars. Use a currency converter to see what the price is in your local currency.
The old adage that good things come in small packages applies to movies, specifically "B" movies. They were once a valued staple of the film business during the eras in which local theaters generally showed double features. "B" movies were sometimes the top-billed feature but more often than not they were produced simply to provide programming for the bottom half of the bill at a low cost. This is not to diminish their worth. Most of these productions were quite entertaining and some have gone on to be regarded as cult classics. "The Gun Runners", a 1958 United Artists film, is not a cult classic but it is a "B" movie and it is quite good, largely because this story about a deep sea fisherman has director Don Siegel's firm hand on the tiller. The screenplay is derived from two Ernest Hemingway sources: a 1934 short story, "One Trip Across" and his classic novel "To Have and Have Not" which was brought to the screenin 1944 by director Howard Hawks and star Humphrey Bogart. Only a few years later, it had been remade as "The Breaking Point" starring John Garfield. For whatever reason, the producers assumed there was still fertile ground to be exploit in Hemingway's tales and this loose adaptation also owes some obvious inspiration to John Huston's 1948 classic "Key Largo". Despite the hodgepodge nature of its source material and a micro budget, "The Gun Runners" is engrossing throughout.
Audie Murphy stars as Sam Martin, a down-on-his-luck deep sea fisherman who operates a charter boat out of Key West. Sam is happily married to Lucy (Patricia Owens), a devoted wife whose passion for her husband results in the film having a somewhat edgy content in terms of sexual innuendo, as the young couple can barely keep their hands off each other. Sam's home life may be blissful but he's in deep debt due to slumping rentals of his boat. On an excursion to Havana during the midst of the revolution (which was in progress when the movie was filmed, though California locations are stand ins for Cuban locales), Sam is approached by a couple of shady revolutionaries who want to employ his boat for illicit purposes. Sam rejects their overture but within seconds, he witnesses an inquisitive police officer brutally murdered by the men. He flees Cuba before anyone can place him as an eyewitness. Back home, his fortunes continue to decline and he fears having his boat foreclosed on. Good fortune seems to smile upon him when a wealthy man named Hanagan (Eddie Albert), accompanied by his beautiful young mistress Eva (Gita Hall), wants to pay to charter Sam's boat for a princely sum- with the caveat that they make an unauthorized nighttime visit to Havana without getting a travel permit. Sam takes an immediate dislike to the perpetually jovial Hannigan and doubts his story that he and Eva simply want to sample the nightlife in Havana. Sam reluctantly agrees out of financial desperation. Once in Cuba, however, Hannigan is actually secretly meeting with revolutionaries, who pay him a large sum of cash in return for promising to deliver a cache of weapons to them on his next visit. Things get hairier from there when Hannigan uses financial blackmail to force Sam into making a return visit to Cuba in order to drop off the weapons. In the "Key Largo"-like finale, he finds himself on board the small vessel with Hannigan and his gang of cutthroats (including sadistic Richard Jaeckel) who have every incentive to kill him once the mission is complete. Of particular interest is the screenplay's attempts to remain politically ambivalent in dealing with the Cuban revolution, though the writers clearly seem to paint the rebels in an unfavorable light. (Only a few months after the film's release, the Batista regime would fall to Castro's forces.)
Director Siegel was known for making his films lean and mean and this is no exception. Working with a threadbare budget, he manages to squeeze considerable suspense out of the scenarios with nary a wasted frame of film or a superfluous line of dialogue. Audie Murphy suffices in the lead role, but the part calls out for someone with a harder edge. The film benefits from a marvelous cast of supporting actors with Everett Sloane especially good as Sam's elderly, wino first mate who he keeps on simply out of sentiment. There are also bit parts by Jack Elam and John Ford regular John Qualen. The two female leads are very good but Gita Hall steals the show in the traditional role of glamorous femme fatale, a young woman who is mortgaging her future for the trappings of luxury by serving as Hannigan's mistress. (If she were in a higher profile film, she may have gone on to stardom.) By far the best performance is given by Eddie Albert, who makes for a larger-than-life, smarmy villain. The diversity of this actor is often overlooked. He could play light comedy (he was great in "Green Acres") with exceptional skill while also delivering dramatic performances that are equally impressive.
The Kino Lorber Blu-ray features the original trailer with an English track but Italian titles (go figure) and some bonus trailers. I don't want to overstate the merits of "The Gun Runners" but as a "B" movie it exceeds expectations. Recommended.
The 1961 MGM Western A Thunder of Drums has been released by the Warner Archive. The film was regarded as a standard oater in its day but has since built a loyal following who have been eager to have the movie available on the home video market. What sets A Thunder of Drums apart from many of the indistinguishable Westerns of the period is its downbeat storyline and intelligent script, which was clearly geared for adults as opposed to moppets. There's also the impressive cast: Richard Boone, George Hamilton, Charles Bronson, Arthur O'Connell, Richard Chamberlain and Slim Pickens among them.The film opens with a sequence that was very unsettling and shocking for its day: an Indian attack on a tranquil homestead. A little girl is forced to witness the gang rape and murders of her mother and teenage sister. The plot then shifts to the local fort where commandant Boone is overseeing an understaffed cavalry contingent that has to find and defeat the marauding tribe, which has already slaughtered numerous settlers and soldiers. The Indians are window dressing in the story: nameless, faceless adversaries who are not given any particular motivation for their savagery. (These was, remember, far less enlightened times and such conflicts were generally presented without nuance.)
George Hamilton is the by-the-book West Point graduate assigned to the fort as Boone's second-in-command. He gets a frosty reception from minute one. Boone tells him he doesn't meet the requirements of a seasoned officer who can survive in the hostile environment. The two men spend a good deal of their time in a psychological war of wills. Adding to Hamilton's discomfort is the discovery that his former lover, Luana Patten, is not only living at the remote outpost, but is engaged to one of his fellow officers. The two rekindle their own romance and this leads to scandalous and tragic results.
The film is based on a novel by popular Western writer James Warner Bellah and probably represents the career high water mark of director Joseph Newman, who was destined to toil for decades helming B movies. He gets vibrant performances from his cast. The ever-watchable Boone is in his predictably crusty mode, cynically second-guessing his officers and men, tossing out insults and sucking on an omnipresent stogie. Boone was so dominant in every role he played, one wonders why he never reached a higher status as a reliable box-office figure. Hamilton is in his standard pretty boy mode, but holds his own against macho men Boone and Charles Bronson, who is cast against type as a somewhat dim-witted character of low scruples. Singer Duane Eddy, who was a teenage pop star at the time, made his film debut here with a degree of fanfare, but it was obviously last minute stunt casting as Eddy is given virtually nothing to do except strum a few chords on his guitar. The film boasts some magnificent scenery and some rousing action sequences that are more realistic than those found in most Westerns of the time. A Thunder of Drums isn't art or even a great or important Western - but it is fine entertainment and the Warner Archive edition looks terrific. A Blu-ray edition is overdue! The only bonus feature is the original theatrical trailer is included (the one seen above is of inferior quality to the trailer featured on the disc, but it does give a good overview of the film).
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM THE CINEMA RETRO MOVIE STORE
On September 27, the Australian video company Imprint/ViaVision will release a 4-film box set showcasing films starring George Peppard. Here are the details:
With his dashing good looks and
irresistible charm, George Peppard became one of the most iconic actors of the
1960s.
Enjoy four forgotten gems from his
prolific career for the first time on Blu-ray in Australia:
P.J. (1968)
Pendulum (1969)
The Executioner (1970) – Worldwide first on
Blu-ray!
Newman’s Law (1974)
Limited Edition 4-Disc Hardbox. 1500
copies only.
P.J.
(1968) – Imprint Collection #252
Peppard faces off against Raymond Burr
(Rear Window) when he becomes entangled in an affair with deadly
consequences in P.J.
Private eye P.J. Detweiler is
reluctant to protect the mistress of a millionaire from attacks by his client’s
wife and greedy family. In truth, P.J. is walking into a deadly intrigue in
which he is to play a central part.
Special Features & Technical
Specs:
1080p High-definition presentation on Blu-ray from
a 2K scan
NEW Audio Commentary by film historian & author Toby Roan
Audio Commentary by critics Howard S. Berger and
Steve Mitchell
NEW Interview with author & screenwriter Courtney Joyner on the
career of director John Guillermin
NEW Video essay on George Peppard & John Guillermin
Theatrical Trailer
Original Aspect Ratio 2.35:1
Audio English LPCM 2.0 Mono
Pendulum
(1969) – Imprint Collection #253
George Peppard embarks on a relentless
quest for justice in this thrilling classic.
Cynical Washington, DC, police captain
Frank Matthews risked his life to catch a young rapist and murderer. But the
psychopath is set free when a civil liberties’ attorney proves to the Supreme
Court that Matthews never read the killer his rights. When Matthews’ wife is
found murdered alongside her lover, and he becomes the prime suspect, Matthews
decides his best option is to capture the real killer himself.
Special Features & Technical
Specs:
1080P High-definition presentation on Blu-ray
Special Features TBC
Aspect Ratio 1.85:1
Audio English LPCM 2.0 Mono
The
Executioner (1970) – Imprint Collection #254
Worldwide first on Blu-ray!
Joan Collins, Keith Mitchell and Judy
Geeson also star in The Executioner, the nail-biting thriller and
worldwide first on Blu-ray.
When a covert operation in Vienna goes
awry, British Intelligence operative John Shay suspects his colleague, Adam
Booth, may be a double agent. Appointing himself executioner, Shay kills Booth
and then assumes his identity to obtain conclusive evidence that Booth was a
traitor.
Special Features & Technical
Specs:
1080P High-definition presentation on Blu-ray
Special Features TBC
Aspect Ratio 2.35:1
Audio English LPCM 2.0 Mono
Newman’s
Law (1974) – Imprint Collection #255
The creator of Banacek, Anthony
Wilson, and George Peppard reunite in the gritty police drama Newman’s Law.
When a hard-nosed LA cop is booted from
duty after being falsely accused of extortion, he goes rogue to investigate an
organised crime case, uncovering a conspiracy that might extend to the highest
levels of his own department.
Special Features & Technical
Specs:
1080p High-definition presentation on Blu-ray from
a 2K scan
NEW Audio Commentary by film historian Steve Mitchell and
producer/screenwriter Cyrus Voris
NEW Interview with director Jeff Burr on the career of director Richard
T. Heffron
Radio Spots
Theatrical Trailer
Aspect Ratio 1.85:1
Audio English LPCM 2.0 Mono
Any pre-order titles will be
dispatched in the week leading up to its aforementioned release date. Special
features and artwork are subject to change.
Imprint limited editions tend to sell out quickly. Click here to pre-order. (Prices are in Australian dollars. Use a currency converter to see what the price is in your local currency.) The Blu-ray set is Region-Free.
A quaint relic of the past, "open-end" interviews were widely used in the entertainment industry to deceive radio listeners into believing that a local entertainment personality was actually interviewing a big star. The reporter would be supplied with a vinyl record with "cuts" of pre-recorded interviews with the subject or subjects. They were also provided specific questions that they would record in their own voice. These would be inserted into the "interview" to give the impression that the reporter was actually speaking with the star or stars. Big city personalities didn't have to rely on such deceitful gimmicks, as they generally had access to the big names through press junkets or, if their media employer was impressive enough, a one-on-one exclusive interview. The open-end programs allowed reporters in smaller, often rural markets to pretend they were in the presence of the stars. How many people fell for this, we'll never know. It would seem unlikely that someone from the town of Nowhere would be able to pull off convincing listeners that he was at the top of the Swiss Alps for the filming of "On Her Majesty's Secret Service", but some actually tried, as that film provided open-ended "on location" interview records from that glamorous location. Here we present an open-end disc with rare interviews with George C. Scott and Peter Sellers, two people who were generally adverse to giving interviews. The subject is "Dr. Strangelove" and we suppose they both felt more comfortable with a studio hack asking mundane, impersonal questions. Not much is revealed in Scott's interview, but Sellers is a bit more forthcoming and provides some humorous examples of his expertise in impersonating different accents from diverse areas of England. Strangely, he gives the interview in the same perfect American accent he used in the film.
Chuck Norris is an American icon. His resume
is amazingly impressive—undefeated world karate champion, celebrity trainer,
best-selling author, television personality, and action movie superstar. Many
remember him from his eight season stint on the TV favorite Walker, Texas Ranger as well as in action movie classics Missing in Action, Code of Silence,
Invasion U.S.A. and The Delta Force.
However, some forget about Norris’s earlier efforts like Slaughter in San Francisco (1974), Breaker! Breaker! (1977) and Good
Guys Wear Black (1978); films where the talented athlete-turned-actor was
just starting his long, cinematic career. In 1979, Norris headlined A Force of One; a film which,
appropriately enough, cast him as a competitive martial artist.
A Force of One follows karate
champion Matt Logan (Norris) who, while rigorously training to defend his title
in an upcoming match, is contacted by the local police in order to aid them in
their current investigation. It seems that several officers have been murdered
by an assassin who the cops are convinced is a well-trained martial artist.
Matt agrees to help, but doesn’t realize that the killer is someone very close
to him.
Written by Academy Award winner Ernest
Tidyman and 9th degree black belt Pat E. Johnson, A Force of One was directed by Paul
Aaron; filmed in San Diego, California and released on May 18, 1979 by American
Cinema Releasing.
The very entertaining and well-written film,
which functions as an engaging police investigation/murder mystery, boasts solid
direction by Aaron, who more than competently handles the exciting martial arts
and action sequences. We are also given several well-drawn characters that are
brought to life by the talented cast. Naturally, Chuck Norris is totally
believable as the low-key, laid back, but extremely focused karate master Matt
Logan. Norris also brings a bit of humor to this somewhat biographical role.
Next, we have the beautiful Jennifer O’Neill conveying toughness, intelligence,
humor and sensitivity as dedicated undercover cop Amanda Rust. The late, great
Clu Gulager shines as a concerned police captain as does the always welcome Ron
O’Neal, who plays one of the undercover team searching for the killer. Last,
but not least, Eric Laneuville is extremely likeable as Norris’s adopted son,
Charlie.
Adding to the fun and captivating film are a
bunch of incredibly talented character actors/familiar faces such as James
Whitmore, Jr., Ray Vitte, Clint Ritchie, Pepe Serna, Taylor Lacher, Charles
Cyphers, Lisa James, Mel Novak and G.W. Bailey.
Lastly, we have the impressive acting debut
of undefeated middleweight karate champion Bill “Superfoot” Wallace; a brief
appearance by two-time Golden Gloves champion Edwin “Chu Chu” Malave, and Chuck
Norris’s younger brother, Aaron Norris, who does quadruple duty by being stunt
coordinator, performing stunts, choreographing fight scenes (with his brother),
and playing Chuck’s corner man.
In addition to all this goodness is a
wonderful, thriller-type musical score by composer Dick Halligan which, when
combined with everything else, makes A
Force of One a very enjoyable 90 minutes.
A Force of One has been released on
Blu-ray in anamorphic (1.85:1) widescreen from a brand new 2K transfer and the
movie, which I always remember looking a bit washed out, now looks crystal
clear and vibrant. This film has always been a favorite of mine and I’ve never
seen it look this good. The Region 1 disc also contains two audio commentaries;
one with director Paul Aaron, and another with action film historians Brandon
Bentley and Mike Leeder. We are also given the featurette“The Making of A Force of One”
as well as the original theatrical trailer, TV spots, radio spots, a trailer
for The Reincarnation of Peter Proud
(which also stars Jennifer O’Neill) and trailers for five Chuck Norris action
classics: Good Guys Wear Black, The
Octagon, An Eye for an Eye, Code of Silence and Hero and the Terror.
If,
like me, you’re a fan of this Chuck Norris martial arts classic, I highly
recommend picking up a copy of this Blu-ray.
Rightfully or wrongfully, I’m going to concentrate this
review of Mill Creek’s Sci-Fi from the
Vault Blu on two of this Blu-ray set’s decidedly lesser films:Creature
with the Atom Brain (1955) and The
Thirty Foot Bride of Candy Rock (1959).This is partially due to the fact that the set’s two most prominent
titles, 20 Million Miles to Earth and
It Came from Beneath the Sea, were
previously issued by Mill Creek back in 2014 on their twofer Ray Harryhausen Creature Double Feature
from the same transfers. Though Creature with the Atom Brain is making
its U.S. Blu debut on this set, the film has seen a previous Blu issue on the UK
import Cold War Creatures: Four Films
from Sam Katzman.So only The Thirty Foot Bride of Candy Rock is making
a worldwide debut on Blu with this set.
All four films in this new set come, as per the title,
from the vaults of Columbia studios. Creature
earlier appeared on the commentary-free DVD set Sam Katzman: Icons of Horror Collection (2007).As I am not privy to the sales figures of
that set, I can only surmise should Mill Creek release a Sci-Fi Vault Vol. 2 on Blu, we might see the “missing” Katzman titles
sprinkled into a future U.S. set.This Mill
Creek set is not an “all Katzman” edition (ala Icons).The workhorse
producer has no connection to either 20
Million Miles to Earth or The Thirty
Foot Bride of Candy Rock.
It’s with no disrespect to the late, great special
effects wizard Ray Harryhausen that I’m not going to do a deep dive into 20 Million Miles to Earth and It Came from Beneath the Sea.Though these two films are genuine and iconic
sci-fi classics, both have previously gotten the Mill Creek Blu treatment and
also received transatlantic Blu releases as well.So I can’t imagine anyone interested in these
Harryhausen-associated titles not already in possession of copies.Fair to say, if you own Mill Creek’s previously
published twofer, their reappearances here are redundant.
This new set, priced at an MSRP of $29.99, is – happily -
available far less expensively from any variety of on-line retailers.In some sense, it’s a bargain.This recent edition does offer a new and informative audio commentary on It Came from Beneath the Sea, courtesy
of Justin Humphreys and C. Courtney Joyner.So if you’re an enthusiast of commentary tracks, that’s a checkmark in
the plus column.On the other hand,
there’s no audio commentary included on 20
Million Miles to Earth, a film no less deserving of annotation.So that’s a checkmark lost.
Oddly, Edward L. Chan’s Creature with the Atom Brain (1955), an arguably less-deserving
film, does come with a commentary
track – this time courtesy of film producer-writers’ Phoef Sutton and Mark
Jordan Legan.It’s nice to have a
commentary supplied by two established screenwriters since Creature producer Sam Katzman had conscripted the great Curt
Siodmak (The Wolf Man) to script his low-budgeter.The often curmudgeonly Siodmak was a pretty
productive scripter, memorably knocking off no fewer than nine sci-fi/horror programmers
for Universal 1940-44 – and many other original scenarios for other studios.
Though Siodmak provides a decent enough script for Creature, director Kahn’s film proves a
B-film guilty pleasure a best.On their
commentary, Sutton and Legan provide a breezy, lighthearted narration filled
with the usual, occasionally colorful, anecdotes, often based on their rattling
off resumes of the film’s various cast and crew member.To their credit, the two honestly acknowledge
the film’s shortfalls, mulling that “the first four and a half minutes are the
best thing about it.”The film is a bit
of slow-going unless one has a sense of nostalgia about it.
It was late October 1954 when Variety reported that Katzman had tapped Kahn to direct Creature, the first of the producer’s
first sci-fi feature film forays. News
of actor Richard Denning signing on to star was reported the following week.Similar to Katzman, Kahn was a film industry
workhorse, a director not identified with any one particular genre.In the 1950s, Kahn helmed war films,
westerns, gangster pics and teenage melodramas. But he also managed to put the
fright into the “Frightened Fifties,” cranking out no fewer than eight serviceable
sci-fi pics in a four-year period:beginning
with She Creature (1956) and finishing
with Invisible Invaders (1959).Actor Denning provided a face familiar to
50’s sci-fi fans: the actor had lead roles in The Creature from the Black Lagoon, Target Earth and The Black
Scorpion, to name only a few.
It was Columbia’s intention to bill the more pedestrian Creature as the supporting feature to It Came from Beneath the Sea.In June 1955 it was reported the double-bill was
to be first rolled out to thirty-one theaters in and around the Los Angeles
area.Both films would be produced under
the aegis of Katzman’s Clover Productions.Though Kaufman’s low-budgeted independent offerings weren’t expected to
bring in boffo box-office numbers,
Columbia’s accountants were aware the absence of big name stars and inflated
production costs brought better returns on investment.
A trade paper reported bluntly that Columbia, “feels it’s
better to make a 15% to 25% profit on a picture than to stand to lose 50% to
75% on a wholly-made studio picture.”While
Katzman’s pictures for Columbia (Creature
with the Atom Brain, The Giant Claw, Zombies of Mora Tau and The Werewolf) might not have produced
great art, they did bring in worthwhile returns on investment. It Came
fromBeneath the Sea, the far stronger
film (with a bigger budget) managed great
business, helped in part by a combination of Harryhausen’s screen magic, word-of-mouth
excitement and a supportive radio-television-print campaign of $250,000.Though It
Came fromBeneath the Sea was not
the first “giant” monster movie of the 1950s, it was among the earliest, and
this monstrous sci-fi sub-genre would blossom throughout the 1950s and well
into the 1960s.
Which leads us into our discussion of the final “giant” film
offered on this set.The working title
of Sidney Miller’s The 30 Foot Bride of
Candy Rock was originally titled The
Secret Bride of Candy Brock.The
film’s co-screenwriter, Arthur Ross, was familiar writing for films featuring
gargantuan(s): he had already helped craft the screenplay for Columbia’s The Three Worlds of Gulliver, a soon-to-be-
released pic in 1960.But Candy Rock was to serve primarily as a
vehicle for comedian Lou Costello.Though
his 1940s heyday was behind him, the roly-poly actor had been introduced to a
new generation of fans in the ‘50s through airings of The Abbott and Costello Show television series.
The
30 Foot Bride of Candy Rock was to be the comedian’s first feature
film project following the dissolution of his partnership with Bud Abbott in
July of 1957.That pair’s final film, the
saccharine comedy-drama Dance with Me,
Henry (United Artists, 1956) was generally dismissed as a tired re-play of
routines long gone cold.Now, as a solo
player, Costello was hoping that Bride
might reestablish his box-office prowess.This indie production, shot on the Columbia studios lot, saw Costello’s
manager, Eddie Sherman, serving as the film’s executive producer.With such leverage Costello was even able to
gift a small role to daughter Carole.
Producer Lew Rachmil suggested to a reporter from London’s
Picturegoer that Costello’s titular
bride, Dorothy Provine (a 22 year-old blonde that stood 5’ 4” tall), was a
“born comedienne – nearly as funny as Lou at times.”Provine was a relative newcomer to Hollywood,
having worked only two studio soundstages, one for The Bonnie Parker Story and for a two- episode role as a twelve
year old (!) on TV’s Wagon Train.Provine told gossiper Erskine Johnson that
she hadn’t “missed a day’s work since I arrived in Hollywood, but I was always
scared about every job being my last job.”She needn’t have worried, following Bride
the actress was picked to star alongside Roger Moore as a regular character on the
television series The Alaskans and
would also have a prominent role in the 1963 Cinerama comedy It’s a Mad,
Mad, Mad, Mad World.
In conception, Bride
seems little more than Lou Costello’s attempt to lampoon the popularity of the ongoing
“giant monster” craze.Whiling away his
days in an amateur laboratory, Costello’s rubbish collector and would-be inventor
Artie Pinsetter (‘a world-famous scientist who’s not famous yet”) is determined
to unravel secrets: primarily he wishes to learn how the prehistoric beasts that
once roamed a local region known “Dinosaur State Park” had achieved gargantuan
sizes. He’s investigating an ancient Native American belief that these
creatures achieved such measurement due to a mysterious stream of steam
emissions emanating from a canyon cave.
To this end he has constructed an elaborate electronic contraption
that he calls “Max.”His invention is part
time machine – due to its ability for “changing time curves” - and part
straight man.Pinsetter hadn’t needed to
go through all the trouble of mechanical tinkering.Walking through the canyon, girlfriend Emmy
Lou (Provine), accidentally walks through a plume of canyon steam and finds
herself having gained an additional 25 feet in height.The steam, we are told, is the castoff of atomic
energy escaping from the bowels of the earth.
To make matters worse for Pinsetter, we learn Emmy Lou is
the niece of the town’s self-involved and self-important bank president/gubernatorial
hopeful Raven Rossiter (Gale Gordon, of Our
Miss Brooks fame).Rossiter doesn’t
care much for Pinsetter, and his ill-tempered behavior provides much of the
film’s lukewarm comic tension.But ultimately,
the film’s concentration is whether or not the townies – and alarmed Pentagon
officials – can escape the problems wrought by Costello’s foolish inventions or
of his skulking thirty-foot bride.
Shot in the fanciful descriptions of “Wonderama” and
“Mattascope,” Bride is not a great
film by any measure.But having said
this, it’s an innocuous 73-minute nostalgia trip that admittedly brought a
number of head-shaking smiles to my face.The film is an innocent bit of nonsense, a “family-friendly” movie that
I’m certain brought fun to kiddie audiences of its day.My favorite time capsule moment occurs when
an airborne Costello nearly collides with the Soviet Union’s recently launched Sputnik 1 satellite.
Sadly, Lou Costello would not live to see the finished
film released to the public.The
legendary film star would die of a heart attack, just days shy of age 53, on
March 3, 1959 – a mere ten weeks following his first day of shooting on Bride in November of 1958 (production wrapped
a mere month later).On March 24, 1959,
executives at Columbia announced the aforementioned title change.The film was still in editing by June of 1959
– as was the Three Stooges’ sci-fi comedy Have
Rocket, Will Travel. In July Columbia shared plans to package Bride as a late summer trip bill of such
other family fare films as Rocket and
Ted Post’s The Legend of Tom Dooley.
There were studio previews as early as July 7, but when Bride finally was unleashed on movie
screens it was not as one-third of the aforementioned package as scheduled - but
rather as the under bill to Disney’s Darby
O’ Gill and the Little People or Have
Rocket, Will Travel.Though there
were no critical raves for Bride –
truthfully the film was undeserving of such praise – most reviewers found the
film harmless and wholesome family entertainment.Which it was.I suppose it would have been in poor taste to completely dismiss the value
of the final film of one of Hollywood’s most beloved – and successful –
actor-comedians.
In any event, Mill Creek’s Sci-Fi from the Vault collection has made The 30 Foot Bride of Candy Rock available for the first time on Blu-ray.Previously the film had only appeared on VHS
by Columbia/Tri-Star in 1986 and – with a far lesser transfer - on the cheapie
Good Times label in 1988.Its first
digital appearance was a 2010 release as a DVD MOD from Sony/Columbia Screen
Classics.So, regardless of merit, it’s
nice to get this one on Blu.Its
appearance here should interest fans of both Abbott and Costello-related
productions as well as collectors of vintage 50s Silver Age sci-fi.There’s also a light-hearted but informative
audio commentary for Bride provided
by the Monster Party Podcast team.Think
of a few wise-cracking - but informative - movie-buff friends sitting on the
couch alongside you.The commentary adds
a bit of color to an otherwise monochrome film.
To its credit, the set also includes two bonus features
well worth a look:Daniel Griffith’s 25-minute
doc They Came from Beyond: Sam Katzman at
Columbia as well as his 14:30 minute doc Fantastical Features: Nathan Juran at Columbia.The former gives us a thumbnail tracing of
Katzman’s career in film.The producer
knocked out dozens of serials for Victory and Columbia - including Superman (1948) and Batman and Robin (1949) - from the mid-1930s on.He later moved on to producing features for Monogram
– a studio described here as Hollywood’s “lowest echelon” - where he enjoyed
the first of his feature film successes.
Katzman’s films for Monogram and others were usually made
on shoestring budgets with tight shooting schedules.The producer didn’t necessarily favor the
horror sci-fi genre during his 40+ years working in Hollywood.But having employed Bela Lugosi on the 1936
serial Shadow of Chinatown, Katzman
managed to bring the now underworked and underappreciated actor to Monogram for
a series of guilty pleasure, fan-favorite cheapie horror-melodramas.But Katzman was not shy on capitalizing on whatever
fad was capturing public fancy. His filmography included everything from ghetto
dramas, gangster pics, East Side Kids/Bowery Boys comedies, westerns, sword and
sandal epics, early rock n’ roll pics – even a couple of Elvis Presley films (Kissin’ Cousins (1964) and Harum Scarum (1965) .
In the mid-1950s, sensing sci-fi was proving popular with
audiences, Katzman scored big as the Executive Producer on such less penny-pinching
epics as It Came from Beneath the Sea
and Earth vs. the Flying Saucers
(1956).Both of these films featured the
completely amazing stop-motion special effects of the great Ray Harryhausen,
with whom Katzman was happy to collaborate.In all likelihood, it’s the appreciative audience of so-called “Monster
Kids” that continues to stoke interest in Katzman’s work.
The second bonus doc, Fantastical
Features, has C. Courtney Joyner and Justin Humphreys taking a brief look
at the films of the fast-shot flicks Nathan Juran directed for Columbia.Though not necessarily a horror/sci-fi film
director, Juran had previously helmed The
Black Castle (1952) for Universal and, more importantly, for that studio’s
great giant insect epic The Deadly Mantis
(1957).Once moving to Columbia, Juran
managed a number of sci-fi/fantasy epics including such cinematic touchstones
as 20 Million Miles to Earth, Attack of
the 50 Foot Woman (1958) and The 7th
Voyage of Sinbad (1958).
For the most part, all of these black-and-white films
look great for their age, though they’re not entirely pristine: one can expect
a few not terribly distracting scratches or speckling throughout.Personally, I’m not sure how many more times
I will revisit Creature with the Atom
Brain or The 30 Foot Bride of Candy
Rock – they’re not great films - but it’s still nice to add these titles to
my ‘50s sci-fi film collection.You’ll
have to decide if they’re worth adding to yours.
Click here to order from Amazon and save 50% off SRP.
The working title of the Universal-Jewel silent
six-reeler The Trap (1922) was Wolf Breed – for reasons that will soon
become apparent.Lon Chaney’s feature
role casting was reported during the first week of September 1921, the film
reportedly to be based on a scenario by Lucien Hubbard. The film was apparently
still in production during late September/early October of 1921.Newspapers were reporting that immediately following
Chaney’s completion of Wolf Breed, the
actor “will appear in The Octave of
Claudius for Goldwyn.” That film would in fact be made, but released as The Blind Bargain (1922), directed by
Wallace Worsley - who would later helm Chaney’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame.Along with London after Midnight
(1927), The Blind Bargain is
inarguably the most sought after of the actor’s lost films.
The
Trap,
by any measure, is a more modest effort than any of the aforementioned trio of
films.The photoplay features Lon Chaney
as Gaspard the Good.His character is so
named as he is a kind and gentle soul.He’s a simple-living, always smiling, bubbly effervescent personality - a
man of good-standing in the small idyllic French Canadian mountain village of
Grand Bellaire.But Gaspard’s usual pleasant
demeanor will soon sour.Returning to
the village from a recent trip, Gaspard discovers that he has not only lost his
girlfriend Thalie (Dagmar Godowsky) to a seemingly well-to-do carpetbagger
named Benson (Alan Hale), but also to his unregistered claim to his pappy’s
hyacinth gemstone mine. Gaspard tries his best to sublimate his personal sorrows,
one title card noting while “The morning sun was no more radiant,” the broken-spirited
Gaspard managed to hold “no malice” within his heart.For a time, anyway.
But things change in the intervening span of seven – yes,
seven – years.The cad Benson has suffered several reversals
of fortunes, beginning with a calamitous cave-in dooming his mining
operation.We also learn Benson has not
been a particularly loving husband to sweet Thalie who we watch as she succumbs
to a fatal illness.Her husband coldly
dismisses his wife’s deathbed lethargy to “laziness.”Sitting astride Thalie’s bedside is her grieving
five-year old son with Benson, “The Boy” (Stanley Goethals).Gaspard too has suffered a shocking reversal
– a shift in personality as the last few years events have left him bitter.Though Benson’s recent streak of bad breaks
should have brought Gaspard a measure of satisfying yin and yang closure, it’s
simply wasn’t enough to erase the sting of his personal anguishes.
So seeking a more punishing revenge on Benson, Gaspard
convinces a local tavern tough that the carpetbagger has been saying awful
things about him.The enraged brute
attempts to assail Benson who unexpectedly defends himself with a pistol shot –
a crime for which he is sentenced to the gallows.But this sentence is later commuted to a
prison sentence when the brute survives the shooting.In the interim, and as per Thalie’s deathbed
wish, Gaspard has taken custody of her son - for whom the bitter ex-lover intends
to administer a misplaced vengeance.But
in short time the innocent “wee waif” reawakens the good in Gaspard’s heart who
becomes a doting model foster parent to the child. But when Gaspard is informed that Benson has
been released from prison with plans to collect his biological son, a
distraught Gaspard - fearful of losing the boy - sets up a diabolical snare involving
a trap door and a starving wolf lying in wait.
It’s a melodrama for sure.In its review of May 20, 1922, Billboard suggested while the storyline
of The Trap was overly “trite,” the
film itself was visually appealing with “most picturesque locations” and
“photography showing some rare and perfect gems of outdoor beauty.”(The film was actually photographed not in
the Canadian wilderness but in the tranquil and majestic canyons of Yosemite
National Park).Chaney’s “remarkable
impersonation” of the French-Canadian Gaspard was noteworthy, even though the
review concedes “the vehicle is not sufficiently strong to do justice to the
ability of the star.”This contrasts
with the view of Variety’s critic who
thought director Robert Thornby’s excessive use of full-frame close-ups of
Chaney – which allowed a bit too much melodramatic over-emoting on the actor’s
part – was nothing if not “tiresome.”Personally,
I disagree with this assessment.Though
there are no shortage of such close-ups, Chaney’s facial expressions on screen enable
the actor to convey emotions of sorrow, joy, malice and anger in a visual manner
that no title card could ever convey as successfully.
That said, The Trap
was an idiosyncratic picture in some sense, and certainly an archetype of the
tortured character roles Chaney would more famously play in the future.Many silent pictures of the day were structured
around romantic angles in their scenarios.But following Gaspard’s loss of both mine and sweetheart Thalie (the
actress being the daughter of the famed Lithuanian-American classical pianist
Leopold Godowsky), the film drops any pretension of romantic conciliation or
renewal.The movie instead focuses on
Chaney’s dark, methodically-plotted and coldly calculated plan of revenge.
By the year 1972, the esteemed Billy Wilder was licking his wounds
over the boxoffice debacle that was "The Private Life of Sherlock
Holmes". Wilder's revisionist depiction of the legendary sleuth is
precisely what Holmes fan clamor for today, but to a generation that
defined the depiction of Holmes and Watson by the low-budget film series
starring Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce, there was little enthusiasm to
see an all-too human Holmes with all-too-human failings. Wilder blamed
the poor reception for the film on the fact that the studio had
overridden his objections and made major cuts to the movie. Years ago,
some of the missing footage was discovered and the altered film was
accepted favorably by reviewers and retro movie lovers. Still, at the
time, Wilder was not used to suffering the humiliation of public
rejection of one of his movies. After all, he had given us classics such
as "Some Like It Hot", "The Apartment", "Sabrina", "Double Indemnity"
and "Stalag 17". Wilder was eager to return to his comedic roots and for
his next film, "Avanti!" and he enlisted long-time collaborator Jack
Lemmon to star and his esteemed writing partner I.A.L. Diamond to
co-author the script with him. The stars seemed be aligned for another
Wilder comedy hit, but it didn't work out that way, to put it mildly.
"Avanti!" was another critical and commercial failure and this time it really hurt.
Henceforth, the few films Wilder would direct would all be bombs,
marking an inglorious end to an otherwise glorious career. Yet,
"Avanti!" deserved a better fate. It's certainly Wilder in an inspired
mode even if the inspiration came from a flop Broadway comedy production
that he and Diamond kept the basic plot premise of but otherwise
rewrote.
Wilder and Lemmon had enjoyed such audience-pleasing hits as "Some
Like It Hot", "The Apartment", "Irma La Douce" and "The Fortune Cookie".
Lemmon is well-cast as Wendell Armbruster, Jr., the son of a titan of
American industry who has just died in an automobile accident in Italy
where he went every year for a month-long personal sabbatical to cleanse
his body and soul. Wendell is already in a state of nervous panic when
we first see him on board the flight to Italy. He has just a few days to
arrange to bring his father's body back to Washington, D.C. where a
high profile televised funeral will take place with the President and
other world dignitaries in attendance. (It's never explained why the
Armbruster family self-imposed such a tight deadline for retrieving the
body and staging the funeral.) Wendell idolized his father as the symbol
of American family values and conservative political doctrine; a robust
Republican who socialized with Henry Kissinger and who was devoted to
Wendell's mother. Upon arrival in the quaint coastal town where his
father died at his favorite small hotel, Wendell is greeted by the
manager, Carlo Carlucci (Clive Revill), an unflappable local "Mr.
Fix-It" with a penchant for reassuring words and an ability to move
mountains to carry out impossible tasks. However, Wendell is in for a
shock when he meets Pamela Piggott (Juliet Mills), a working class girl
from East London whose mother also died in the same car crash as Wendell Sr.
Turns out the two were lovers who met for the past ten years at the
hotel, where they were adored local legends. Thus begins a madcap farce
in which Wendell has to deal with the emotional revelation that his
father was an adulterer while at the same time keeping family members
and the public in the dark about the scandal. Pamela has a different
attitude. Unlike Wendell, she knew of the affair long ago and assures
Wendell that the two were madly in love and could fulfill their
fantasies through their annual reunion. Wendell also learns that his
ultra conservative father would join his lover for daily nude swim.
If the conventional wisdom in Hollywood is that comedies must run
under two hours, Wilder was happy to ignore it. "Avanti!" clocks in at
144 minutes. It's as though he was celebrating the leisurely Italian
lifestyle depicted in the film, a lifestyle that can be both
simultaneously maddening and idyllic. Do we have to tell you that
Wendell and Pamela lock horns only to become lovers themselves, even
going so far as to replicate the dear departed's daily nude swim in the
best-remembered scene from the movie? Despite the lengthy running time,
the film is never boring and the performances are all top-notch with
both Lemmon and Mills in fine form. However, the scene-stealer is Clive
Revill in a remarkably funny performance. You'll swear you're watching
an Italian actor instead of a native New Zealander who made his mark in
British film and stage productions. The movie is peppered with some
genuine Italian character actors, as Wendell becomes embroiled with a
local group of poverty-row mobsters. Wilder and Diamond also mix in an
amusing murder and blackmail plot. There is a late appearance by the
marvelous Edward Andrews as a U.S. State Department official who arrives
to resolve Wendell's problem of getting his father's body back home in
time for the funeral. For all the laughs, however, there is a poignancy
to the story, as Wendell learns to love and admire Pamela, who has
initially disparages because of her "weight problem." This is an
uncomfortable aspect of the movie not only because Juliet Mills most
decidedly did not have a "weight problem", but she endures (as women did
during this era) constant barbs and insults and even makes
self-deprecating jokes about her non-existent girth.
"Avanti!"
may not be classic Wilder, but it's very good Wilder and that's enough
to merit a "highly recommended" designation.The film is currently streaming on Screenpix, which is available to Amazon Prime subscribers for an additional fee of $2.99 a month.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER KINO LORBER BLU-RAY FROM AMAZON
CELEBRATE
100 YEARS OF WARNER BROS. WITH TWO CLASSIC FILMS
EAST OF EDEN AND RIO BRAVO
WILL BE AVAILABLE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 4K RESOLUTION WITH
HIGH DYNAMIC RANGE (HDR)
PURCHASE THEM ON 4K ULTRA HD DISC AND DIGITALLY AUGUST 1
Burbank, Calif., May 30, 2023 – As part of the
year-long centennial celebration for the 100th anniversary of Warner
Bros. Studio, two iconic classics from the Warner Bros. library – East of
EdenandRio Bravo- will be available for
purchase on 4K Ultra HD Disc and Digital August 1.
East of Eden, directed by Academy Award
winner Elia Kazan and starring James Dean, and Rio Bravo, directed
by Honorary Academy Award winner Howard Hawks and starring John Wayne, will be
available to purchase on Ultra HD Blu-ray™Disc from
online and in-store at major retailers and available for purchase Digitally
from Amazon Prime Video, AppleTV, Google Play, Vudu and more.
Working in partnership with The Film Foundation, both films were
restored and remastered by Warner Bros. Post Production Creative Services:
Motion Picture Imaging and Post Production Sound. Since its launch
by Martin Scorsese in 1990, The Film Foundation has restored more
than 900 movies.
The Ultra HD Blu-ray Disc will include each feature film in 4K
with HDR and a Digital version of the feature film.
Ultra HD Blu-ray showcases 4K resolution with High Dynamic Range
(HDR) and a wider color spectrum, offering consumers brighter, deeper, more
lifelike colors for a home entertainment viewing experience like never before.
For the complete 4K Ultra HD experience with HDR, a 4K Ultra HD TV
with HDR, an Ultra HD Blu-ray player and a high-speed HDMI (category 2) cable
are required.
About the Films:
East of Eden
In the Salinas Valley in and around World War I, Cal Trask feels
he must compete against overwhelming odds with his brother Aron for the love of
their father Adam. Carl is frustrated at every turn, from his reaction to the
war, to how to get ahead in business and in life, to how to relate to his
estranged mother.
The 1955 period drama is directed by Elia Kazan from a
screenplay by Paul Osborn and based on the 1952 John Steinbeck novel of the
same name. The film stars James Dean, Julie Harris, Raymond Massey, Burl
Ives, Richard Davalos, and Jo Van Fleet.
East of Eden was nominated for 3 Academy
Awards with Van Fleet winning for Best Supporting Actress. East of
Eden was named one of the 400 best American films of all time by the American Film
Institute. In 2016, the film was selected
for preservation in the United States National Film
Registry by the Library of
Congress as being "culturally,
historically, or aesthetically significant".
Rio Bravo
A small-town sheriff in the American West enlists the help of a
disabled man, a drunk, and a young gunfighter in his efforts to hold in jail
the brother of the local bad guy.
The 1959 American Western film is directed by Howard
Hawks. The screenplay is by Jules Furthman and Leigh Brackett and is based on
the short story “Rio Bravo” by B.H. McCampbell. The film stars John Wayne, Dean
Martin, Ricky Nelson, Angie Dickinson, Walter Brennan, and Ward Bond.
In 2014, Rio Bravo was selected for preservation in
the United States National Film
Registry by the Library of
Congress as being "culturally, historically, or aesthetically
significant.”
Ultra HD Blu-ray Elements
East
of EdenUltra HD Blu-ray contains the following previously released
special features:
Commentary by Richard Schickel
Rio BravoUltra HD
Blu-ray contains the following previously released special features:
Burt Reynolds was a movie star who became a
“Hollywood Legend” the hard way—he earned it. He started out in small roles on
TV in the 50s and 60s, went to Europe and made some spaghetti westerns, just
like his pal Clint Eastwood. He had his own TV series (“Hawk” and “Dan August”)
and gained stardom on the big screen after playing Lewis, one of the four guys
in “Deliverance,” who run into bad luck at the hands of some good ol’ boys in
the Tennessee backwoods. He became a superstar with the release of “Smokey and
the Bandit” (1977), which he starred in with Sally Field and Jackie Gleason.
His career ended with “The Last Movie Star,” (2017), where he basically played
himself, a faded legend, who still manages to hold onto his dignity. He was
about to play a small role in Quentin Tarantino’s “Once Upon a Time . . . in
Hollywood (2019)” but died in 2018before filming began.
His career had a lot of peaks and valleys. “Heat”
(1986), now available on Blu-Ray from Kino Lorber, while an entertaining movie
with Reynolds at his charismatic best, was definitely not one of the peaks.
Considering it was written by Oscar-winning writer William Goldman, (“All the
President’s Men” and “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,”) and directed by
Dick Richards (“Farewell My Lovely”), it should have been a lot better than it
is. Reynolds plays Nick Escalante (also known as “Mex”), a Las Vegas bodyguard
who dreams of one day leaving the rat race in the States and going to Venice,
Italy to enjoy La Dolce Vita. Hmmm. That sort of reminds me of another guy
William Goldman wrote about once, only he wanted to go to Bolivia. Anyway as
“Heat” begins, Mex takes on a couple of jobs that he probably should have known
better than to accept. One has him protecting a nerdy dude by the name of Cyrus
Kinnick (Peter McNichol), who thinks he needs a bodyguard in case he wins big
at the casino. Mex doesn’t last long on the job when he discovers Kinnick’s
idea of big winnings is $50, and he quits. The other is a call for help from
Holly (Karen Young) a Vegas hooker, an old friend of his, who was beaten and
raped in a casino hotel room by three guys. She asks him to help her get
revenge.
Mex (you probably couldn’t use that nickname
today) finds out the rapist is a punk Mafioso by the name of Danny DeMarco
(Neill Barry), who has two musclebound bodyguards of his own. Mex never carries
a gun, but he’s known for being an expert with anything that has a sharp
cutting edge. He pays them a visit and takes all three of them down with
nothing more than the sharp edge of two credit cards and a few flying kicks, a-la
Bruce Lee. He calls Holly up from the lobby and she takes a pair of scissors
out of her purse and leaves Danny with a little souvenir on his private parts.
She finds $20,000 that Danny had flashed around to tease Mex with earlier and
offers half to him. He turns it down and tells her to leave town. It turns out
Danny is connected to a local Mafia boss by the name of “Baby.”
Holly leaves town but manages to get 10 grand to
him, which becomes a plot device that reveals that Mex has a gambling addiction
problem. He takes the money, turns it into $100,000 at the Blackjack table run
by a dealer named Cassie (Diana Scarwid), and ends up losing it all. So now we
know why Mex has trouble paying the airfare to Venice. Kinnick shows up again
and asks if he can just hang out with him so he can learn how to be a cool
tough guy like him. Sounds dumb, doesn’t it? It is. Somehow, even though
there’s a meeting with “Baby,” and later an action setpiece with Danny and some
new goons he’s hired, the story loses momentum.
Part
of the problem is Goldman’s script, which is all over the place, with enough
story elements for at least two different movies. Or maybe they planned to spin
it off into a TV series. But the biggest problem with “Heat” is what was
happening behind the scenes during production. “Heat” was originally to be
helmed by Robert Altman. That deal fell through, so they brought in Dick
Richards to direct and for some reason Richards and Reynolds didn’t get along.
It got so bad that a fight erupted and Reynolds punched Richards in the face.
Richards left the picture after directing only 13 percent of it and sued
Reynolds. “That punch cost me half a million,” Reynolds said. Television
director Jerry Jameson was brought in to finish the picture without receiving a
credit.
It’s
too bad in a way that Altman didn’t take the job after all. Goldman’s
screenplay, with all the various story ideas bouncing around in it, would
probably have been right up Altman’s alley. He might have come up with
something on the order of his earlier hits “The Long Goodbye” (1973) or
“California Split” (1974).
Kino
Lorber presents “Heat” in its original 1.78:1 aspect ratio in a very clean
1920x1080p transfer. A rollicking audio commentary is provided by action film
historians Brandon Bentley and Mike Leeder. The disc also contains previews of
a number of Burt Reynolds films available from Kino Lorber. In case you’re
wondering if Mex ever get to Venice… I’ll never tell. But, if he did, let’s
hope he made out better than that other guy did in Bolivia. Recommended primarily for Burt Reynolds fans.