BY LEE PFEIFFER

Kino Lorber continues to release titles that were originally telecast on ABC TV in the United States as part of the network's "Movie of the Week" anthology series of original productions. While most of the earlier films in the series, which began in 1969, exceeded expectations, with some becoming classics, by the time 1972 rolled around, the network was cutting back on production costs and some less-than-stellar shows were produced. One of the telecasts shown during this period was "The Daughters of Joshua Cabe", a starring vehicle for Buddy Ebsen, who had become a TV icon through "The Beverly Hillbillies" and who would go on to find great success a few years later as TV detective Barnaby Jones. "Joshua Cabe" was shot between the two series. Ebsen is well-cast in the title role that affords him his familiar persona as a laid-back, soft-spoken man of simple means but admirable values. Josh has been proudly calling a beautiful spread of rural land his own, a dream he shared with his beloved wife who passed away many years ago. He now lives a rustic lifestyle with his best friend, Bitterroot (Jack Elam) and the two men are quite content until they receive the alarming news that a new law affects the ownership of homesteads. In order to be declared the rightful owner of the property, Josh only has weeks to find his three estranged daughters of many years and convince them to settle on his land for a period of no less than one year. It's a tall order but he sets out to St. Louis to begin tracking the daughters down. He only finds one of his offspring, Mary (Julie Mannix), and she is content living the life of a nun. She advises him that her two sisters are now living in New York with their families. Dejected, Josh almost gives up on his quest to qualify for ownership of his land until he gets an audacious inspiration: he approaches three wayward women from the other side of the tracks who are living hardscrabble lives in St. Louis and convinces them to move back with him and pose as his daughters for a period of one year. The young women have diverse personalities but they are all streetwise, cynical and willing to go toe-to-toe against the inevitable lechers who try to seduce them. They are Mae (Lesley Ann Warren, billed here as "Lesley Warren), a prostitute being exploited by a charmless pimp, Mae (Sandra Dee), a pickpocket and Charity (Karen Valentine), a recently paroled thief.

Problems arise when Josh's arch-enemy, Amos Wetherall (Leif Erickson) and his four no-goodnick sons set eyes on laying claim to Josh's land to expand their local empire. Their plans hit a set-back when Josh arrives with his three "daughters" but Wetherall and his boys use violent methods to try to intimidate him, including burning down his precious ranch house that he had built for his wife. Wetherall's tactic only reinforce his determination to claim the land legally for his own. The three young women, who had been indulging in plenty of bickering, become united to try to help him, as he's emerged as a kindly father figure to them. The climax finds a showdown between Josh and Bitterroot and Wetherall and his sons to determine who will possess Josh's land. Guess who comes out on top?

"The Daughters of Joshua Cabe" is directed with workman-like efficiency by Philip Leacock, who had a long resume in TV and films as director and producer. The script by Paul Savage is largely unoriginal and predictable. The main reason for watching the film is the delightful cast. The three actresses playing the "daughters" are all amusing with Warren getting the meatiest role as a prostitute. Ebsen is always a delight to watch and he gets plenty of amusing support from Elam, who seemed to inherit Walter Brennan's roles as crabby, eccentric western sidekicks. Erickson makes for a fine villain and his scroungy, sadistic sons are played by well-known actors, specifically Don Stroud, Michael Anderson Jr, Paul Koslo and William Katt (billed here as "Bill Katt".)

The Kino Lorber transfer is adequate, but no more. That's probably because the source material for the print used was less-than-desirable and no one would expect KL to sink a great deal of money into enhancing this modest, little-remembered title, the production values of which are pretty chintzy. IMDB verifies that it was shot on 35mm film but it's hard to believe that the interiors weren't filmed on video, as they have a soft focus look that resembles an episode of a soap opera from the era. The only impressive action scene involves a stampede. Beyond that, the movie is definitely a 1970s Poverty Row production. Still, it's nice to have these obscure TV movies now available on home video, so regardless of their individual merits, we hope KL keeps 'em coming.

The DVD includes a gallery of other KL western comedy trailers including "Support Your Local Sheriff", "Support Your Local Gunfighter", "Young Billy Young" and "Sam Whiskey".

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BY DOUG OSWALD

Nicolas Cage and Sean Young take on a South American drug cartel in “Fire Birds,” available on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber. Cage is a hot-shot U.S. Army Apache helicopter pilot at odds with his combat instructor pilot played by Tommy Lee Jones. He’s also dealing with the loss of his comrades on a recent drug enforcement mission in South America. They were shot down by a mercenary helicopter pilot working for the cartel named Eric Stoller (played by Bert Rhine). Cage is also trying to rekindle romance with a woman from his past, a helicopter pilot named Billie played by Sean Young. If you like helicopters, romance and scenes of air combat, this is the movie for you.

Jones is Chief Warrant Officer Brad Little, married father and newly assigned to train an elite group of Apache helicopter pilots for an air combat mission to take out a South American drug cartel. Cage is Jake Preston, newly assigned to train with Little who discovers a woman from his past is also at Fort Mitchel. Young is Billie Lee Guthrie, a scout helicopter pilot keeping Jake at arm’s length in response to Jake’s attempts to get her attention. Jake insists on cutting in and dancing with Billie at a local bar which results in a fight, further alienating Billie. Jake is a skilled pilot and the accompanying cocky attitude works against his attempts at romance with Billie. Dale Dye is on board as the commanding officer, Colonel A.K. McNeil, and J.A. Preston is General Olcott who orders the mission to take down the drug cartel.

Practicing in an Apache flight simulator which resembles an elaborate first person video game complete with moving compartment and wrap-around video monitors, Jake meets every challenge placed before him by Little as Jake repeats, “I am the greatest!” throughout the exercise and finishes with, “All gone! Bye-bye!” after destroying every enemy in his path. According to the audio commentary, Cage improvised much of his over-the-top performance and it works in developing Jake as the cocky pilot who then needs to be humbled and retrained to meet his nemesis, the mercenary Scorpion helicopter pilot Stoller. Jake screws up on a night training mission by nearly crashing his Apache and is grounded. It turns out he’s left eye dominant and has trouble accepting data from his right eye when connected to the night vision and combat data. He asks Little for help and he agrees stating, “You remind me of me 20 years ago.” This “softening” of Jake endears him to Billie and they renew their relationship as a Phil Collins love ballad fills the soundtrack.

Operation Fire Bird begins as soon as the training is completed. The team is assembled by Colonel McNeal and they are forward deployed to a base in South America in the Catamarca Desert. No country is ever named so we can only guess, but the Catamarca Desert is located in Argentina. Several aerial combat battles ensue between the drug cartel and the Apaches including the final inevitable confrontation between Jake and Stoller. The helicopter battle scenes were filmed using a combination of Army helicopters and models and the results are very exciting. This is the pre-CGI era and the models are mixed in with the real deal to great effect.

The three leads give fine performances in what is an otherwise predictable movie plot. Reviews at the time of release referred to “Fire Birds” as “Top Gun” with helicopters. Viewers of this movie will be pleasantly surprised at how good the movie is on the technical side and for that I can forgive the similarities to almost every military movie before it with combat, romance and swaggering military tropes.

The film is directed by David Green, probably best known for “Buster” with Phil Collins as Ronald Christopher "Buster" Edwards who was one of the thieves involved in "The Great Train Robbery" of 1963 in England. No wonder Collins provides two songs for “Fire Birds.” Green appears to be an odd choice as the director of a military action movie, but he acquits himself very well indeed. It also doesn’t hurt to have the cooperation of the Department of Defense, United States Army and Arizona National Guard. The use of several military locations, including filming at Ft. Hood, Texas, and the Army National Guard Aviation Training Site in Marana, Arizona, add value to the movie.

Released by TouchStone Pictures in 1990, the movie flies in at 86 minutes of non-stop helicopter combat action and romance. It all looks and sounds great, aided by the locations and top notch model and aerial work. Extras on the Blu-ray disc include an informative audio commentary by the director and trailers for this and other Kino Lorber releases. Recommended for fans of military action movies.

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BY LEE PFEIFFER

The character of Billy Jack, played by Tom Laughlin, was introduced in the 1967 biker movie "The Born Losers". In the 1971 film "Billy Jack", Laughlin's reappeared as the martial arts expert who defended the downtrodden while spouting progressive values. The film flopped badly at the boxoffice but Laughlin and his wife (and co-star) Delores Taylor secured the rights to the film and re-released it in 1974 with a creative advertising and distribution campaign. The movie struck boxoffice gold and paved the way for a 1975 sequel, "The Trial of Billy Jack". Young people responded to the liberal-leaning film, as it was released while the Watergate scandal and the resignation of President Richard Nixon were still foremost in the minds of the American public. It seemed natural that Laughlin would make another film in the series. "Billy Jack Goes to Washington", a modern remake of Frank Capra's "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington", was to be released in 1976 but production delays ensued and the film received a only a few theatrical test screenings in April, 1977 and a three-week "pre-release" run in the Milwaukee area in November of that year. Poor word-of-mouth and critical notices dissuaded studios from offering distribution deals and the movie faded into oblivion. Writing in the Washington Post, columnist John Kelly explores some other obstacles the Laughlins had to contend with: namely barriers that were in place at the time that made it difficult to film politically-oriented movies in Washington, D.C. Laughlin would later become a political gadfly and espoused many different conspiracy theories demonizing big government and big business. But John Kelly posits that in the case of "Billy Jack Goes to Washington", Laughlin may indeed have been victimized by an effort to make life difficult for him in terms of filming on location. Kelly says other politically-themed  movies of the era met the same fate, resulting in the formation of the Office of Motion Picture and Television Development, which was designed to be more accommodating to filmmakers. That aside, the primary reason for the film's fate appears to be the opinion in the industry that the series had simply run out of steam.

To read the article, click here.

BY LEE PFEIFFER

Kino Lorber has released a Blu-ray edition of the little-remembered 1954 "B" movie thriller "Highway Dragnet". Despite it's modest production values, the film is a textbook example of how efficiently films in this genre were made and how much action and plot devices can be worked into a movie with an abbreviated running time (70 minutes, in this case.)  Young Roger Corman wrote the story upon which the screenplay was based and also served as one of the producers. That's about the only aspect of the film that one could point out in terms of separating "Highway Dragnet" from countless other crime dramas shot in a similar style. That isn't meant as a criticism. We're rediscovering how cleverly made so many of these micro-budget flicks were and this one is one of the better examples. The film opens with a brief segment in Las Vegas. Richard Conte is Jim Henry, who has just returned from the conflict in Korea and is now looking to enjoy civilian life. He's on his way back to his family home in the Salton Sea area in California when his pit stop at a Vegas casino results in a tense encounter with an abrasive blonde at the bar. The two publicly quarrel and Jim leaves the premises. The next day he is on a desert highway hitchhiking when cops pull up and arrest him. Turns out the sassy dame was found strangled in her bed and Jim is the prime suspect. He has an alibi that he was out with a friend all night but due to some convoluted plot reasons, the tale can't be easily substantiated. Jim resists the arresting officers, steals one of their guns and makes a getaway in the squad car. A full dragnet is in place when he ditches the police car when he comes across two stranded women who are trying to fix their broken-down car. Jim jumps to the rescue and gets the vehicle working, but also insists on traveling with them, as it gives him cover from the police. His new companions are Mrs. Cummings (Joan Bennett), a fashion photographer and her model Susan Willis (Wanda Hendrix). The women are en route to photo shoot at a local desert resort hotel. When they arrive there, they learn that Jim is wanted for murder. He takes off with them into the desert where the car breaks down and they are at the mercy of the relentless sun. Mrs. Cummings is determined to kill Jim if she has the opportunity but Susan, who is clearly enamored of the ex-serviceman, argues that she thinks he is innocent. The cat and mouse game continues as Jim desperately tries to make it back to his family home, where the man who can exonerate him is supposed to be waiting.

"Highway Dragnetl" is a fun romp, especially if you like the old style of crime movies in which the hero is nonplussed by events and seems to have Bondian abilities to escape every trap. Richard Conte makes a good, stalwart hero and his female co-stars are equally impressive. The climax of the film, shot on location amid flooded homes in the Salton Sea area, is quite atmospheric and impressive, even if the resolution of the crime is bit thin and far-fetched when it comes to revealing the real murderer. Director Nathan Juran wisely eschews studio-bound shots in favor of capitalizing on the desert locations and they add considerably to the quality of the production. "HighwayDragmetl" isn't a film noir classic but it's well-made and thoroughly enjoyable. Recommended, especially since you'll only need 70 minutes to experience it.

The Kino Lorber Blu-ray offers a pristine transfer and a trailer gallery of other "B" crime movies available from the company.

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BY LEE PFEIFFER

In 1969, the American television network ABC launched their "Movie of the-Week" concept. The anthology series proved to be an immediate hit and ran until 1975. The format was to enlist the talents of well-known stars and cast them in 90 minute original productions that were often used to test audience reactions to see if certain telecasts merited being extended to weekly TV series. The costs were minimal-$350,000 per movie, on average- which wasn't a great deal of money even in those days. The series presented a diverse number of genres ranging from comedies to thrillers and horror. Before it finally ran out of steam, the Movie of the Week concept produced at least four TV classics: "The Night Stalker", "Brian's Song",  "Trilogy of Terror" and "Duel", the film that was so well-received that it launched Steven Spielberg's entrance into directing theatrical feature films. There were also numerous Westerns made as Movies of the Week including the 1972 production, "The Bounty Man", which has now been released on DVD by Kino Lorber. Clint Walker stars as Kinkaid, a much-feared bounty hunter who is known for ruthlessly pursuing his prey. He's earned the respect of his peers, but some of them also resent him because he inevitably collects the biggest rewards by bringing in the most wanted men dead or alive. When we first see him, he has caught up with two wanted men, one of whom he guns down and the other he delivers to the local sheriff. Upon collecting his bounty, Kinkaid is unmoved to learn the young man is scheduled to be hanged the next morning. He then turns his attention to tracking down bigger game: escaped bandit and murderer Billy Riddle (John Ericson), who has also been sentenced to hang. Kinkaid locates the man in a backwater hellhole of a "town" that is so dangerous it doesn't even have a sheriff. Kinkaid gets the drop on Billy but finds him in the company of his slavishly devoted girlfriend Mae (Margot Kidder) and must bring her along, too, 'lest she round up a gang to rescue Billy.

The briskly-paced film follows the trio as Kinkaid must bring them on a three-day journey back to local authorities. Along the way, Billy pulls out every psychological tool to manipulate Mae into helping him affect an escape- including seducing the bounty hunter. Until this point, we no nothing about Kincaid's background but over a campfire chat, Mae gets him to divulge that his silent and sullen demeanor is due to tragic circumstances that affected his wife and young son. Mae, on the other hand, dismisses Kincaid's warnings that she is nothing but a sexual plaything to Billy and that he will drop her if he escapes instead of marrying her, as he has promised. She explains Billy had rescued her from a life of prostitution and she feels he has earned her trust. In addition to the challenge of keeping his two trail mates under constant watch, Kincaid is also being hunted by a group of murderous bounty hunters who are intent on killing Kincaid and his prisoners and then collecting the reward for turning in Billy's body to the sheriff.

"The Bounty Man" could have been a run-of-the-mill "B" western but it's elevated in quality due to a smartly written, believable script by Jim Byrnes and the more-than-competent direction by John Llewelyn Moxey, who had scored a massive ratings hit a couple of years earlier with "The Night Stalker". He milks some genuine suspense leading to a somewhat unexpected ending that avoids the cliches you are waiting for. The performances are all first-rate. Walker, sporting a mustache, has a lean and mean presence. He was generally cast as amiable big lugs but here he exudes a constant sense of menace. Ericson is excellent as the charismatic bad guy and Kidder displays the kind of likable on-screen persona that would lead her to stardom on the big screen. The most startling and impressive performance is by Richard Basehart as the leader of the skanky, almost insanely violent group of bounty hunters who makes their peers in "The Wild Bunch" look like they just stepped out of "Downton Abbey". Basehart usually played sophisticated men of authority but here he is unrecognizable in filthy clothes, stubble on his face and and bottle of booze perpetually carried in his hand.

The Kino Lorber DVD contains a valuable interview with John Llewelyn Moxey filmed shortly before his death earlier this year. He discusses his career in general and has good memories of making "The Bounty Man". The film may have been largely forgotten but Kino Lorber's release will please anyone who enjoys a good Western.

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“CASTLE CAMP”

By Raymond Benson

While it’s got its defenders and fans, The Fearless Vampire Killers is not Roman Polanski at his best. It does, however, have a certain charm if one places the film within the context of when it was made and released.

Originally titled Dance of the Vampires, the movie is a comedy horror flick that is an obvious send-up of the British horror movies made by Hammer Studios that were hugely popular in the 1960s. It looks like a Hammer picture… the film stock is the same and the colors have that muted, yet oddly vibrant, appearance—and of course the blood and bosoms are in full bloom. It was a British production as well, but the film was made in ski resort locations in Italy, doubling as “Eastern Europe.”

Probably of special interest these days is the presence of Sharon Tate in a lead role, as well as her soon-to-be husband, the director himself, Roman Polanski, as the protagonist’s sidekick. Their off-screen budding romance is palpable in the movie, and, if anything, The Fearless Vampire Killers reflects a moment in time when there was no controversy in the filmmaker’s life and the future for him and his bride-to-be appeared to be rosy.

It's the story of Professor Abronsius (Jack MacGowran), a sort of Van Helsing figure, and his assistant, Alfred (Polanski), as they hunt for vampires. Tate is Sarah, the daughter of the tavern innkeeper (Alfie Bass), and Alfred falls madly in love with her. When she is taken captive by the local vampire head honcho, Count von Krolock (Ferdy Mayne), Abronsius and Alfred take it upon themselves to rescue her and destroy the count’s huge coven of undead followers, who congregate annually for a ball in Krolock’s castle.

The movie is wacky, full of slapstick, and has little true horror. There’s something of a Benny Hill sensibility that permeates it; the picture is certainly atypical of what we think of as a Roman Polanski movie. Polanski himself is quite good in his role of the 90-pound weakling who summons the bravery to complete his tasks. Tate is eye candy supreme, and she plays her role relatively straight. MacGowran, when you can understand his dialogue, is effectively comical, but it is Polanski who steals the picture.

When the film was first released in the U.S., the distributors re-cut it and added a cheap animated sequence before the credits, dubbed MacGowran’s voice with a silly-sounding one, and added the subtitle: …OR: Pardon Me, but Your Teeth Are in My Neck. The movie bombed at the time, disappeared, and was relegated to cult status over the years. Eventually, a restored U.K. version (Polanski’s preferred cut) resurfaced and was released on home video. The Fearless Vampire Killers was then re-evaluated, and it is now considered, in some circles anyway, to be one of the filmmaker’s minor classics.

The Warner Archive’s new Blu-ray release is, thankfully, the original U.K. cut, and it looks quite good in its widescreen, colorful splendor. The supplements include the U.S. animated pre-credits sequence, a vintage featurette on the making of the picture, and the theatrical trailer. English subtitles can be turned on, which is highly recommended—the dialogue, with its many accents and muddied deliveries, can be rather difficult to follow.

The Fearless Vampire Killers is an oddity, but it’s enjoyable enough to pass the time and serve as a rare happy bookmark in the life of one of cinema’s most important—yet troubled—filmmakers.

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By Hank Reineke

Generally speaking, I happen to watch more bad movies than good ones… and I suppose that any film which includes the breathless line, “It’s too bad we didn’t bring the dune buggy!” suggests I’m likely in the midst of another. In truth, I sort of knew this going into Arch Hall Sr.’s cult classic EEGAH (1962), a bona fide drive-in circuit masterpiece. This film has long suffered ignobility partly due to the circulation of tattered prints relegated to the Public Domain. The film’s PD fate partly explains its inclusion in practically every budget-label 50 or 100 count horror and sci-fi multi-film DVD collection ever marketed. Happily – if somewhat curiously - Film Detective has bravely rescued the film – and its fans - from the gray-market, washed-out, faded and deteriorating prints of which we’ve been accustomed, sharing with us this brand new 4K transfer to Blu-ray from an original 35mm camera negative.

The real question I suppose is whether or not EEGAH deserves such white-glove attention? I will reason that it does, especially as I have no financial interest or skin in the game. It’s nothing if not a fun film; a completely nutty and perfect jewel of non-pretentious, time-capsule-exploitative-entertainment. It’s also of some train-spotting, fan-boy interest as the film features the decidedly fresh-faced, twenty-one year old, 7’ 2” actor Richard Kiel (“Jaws” of the James Bond films) as the titular EEGAH. EEGAH is, apparently, a brooding prehistoric cave dweller who has somehow managed to survive well into the early 1960s, unnoticed, unwashed and unloved, in the Coachella Valley of Southern Californian Mountains.

EEGAH’s curious, eon-spanning survival is never explained to scientific satisfaction in Bob Wehling’s dotty script adapted from Arch Hall Sr.’s original story. Sweet Roxy Miller’s adventure-writer father Mr. Miller (also played by Arch Hall Sr.) opines – not unreasonably – that the caveman is likely the last of his line. But he gives us no indication of how he’s intellectually arrived at his totally non-scientifically tested, off-the-cuff conclusion. By his best ballpark estimate the savage primitive has managed to survive perhaps “fifty to one hundred years” following the passing of even EEGAH’s most recent forebear. In some manner of speaking EEGAH still lives alongside his now all-but-extinct extended family in his lonely mountainside cave. Except they now reside there as little more than well cared for mummified remains.

EEGAH’s survival has seemingly gone on unnoticed until one dark night on a deserted road when sweet Roxy (Marilyn Manning) nearly plows into him with her banana yellow sport coupe. While EEGAH grimaces and growls and postures menacingly, it’s apparent that he’s somewhat smitten with his hit-and-run paramour. The girl manages to escape their impromptu meet-up and soon relates the details of her strange run in to her disbelieving boyfriend Tom (Arch Hall, Jr.) and her aforementioned father. Acknowledging the mystery would be best investigated by a responsible adult, Dad Miller is apparently unable to find one. He chooses to go off on his own, hiring a helicopter to take him into the deep ravines within Shadow Mountain. Dressed resplendently in white safari shirt, shorts, and pit helmet, Miller disembarks the copter for an ill-prepared solo expedition. He carries little more than a small tartan satchel and a Brownie camera to support him on his overnight camping trip.

When he fails to appear at the pre-arranged pick-up site the following day, heartthrob Tom and Roxy rush to the designated spot in the hot desert in Tom’s cool dune buggy (“The tires are filled with water,” he tells his girlfriend, the extra weight giving them better “traction in the sand”). As an aside, actor Hall Jr. recalled the dune buggy featured in the film was actually the most authentic and menacing monster of the production. Though it had once been a 1939 Plymouth Sedan it was now, in the actor’s own parlance “a deathtrap,” since it had been amateurishly converted into a buggy and welded back together poorly with no semblance of supportive structure. He recalled a few instances where he was literally pinned under a wreckage of metal, the crew scrambling to pull him free from the crushing weight.

BY LEE PFEIFFER

Twilight Time has released the 1959 Fox Western "Warlock" on Blu-ray as in a limited edition of 3,000 units. To call the film a superior Western might be a bit misleading, given the fact that so many great films of this genre were released in 1950s. "Warlock" isn't a classic but it tries hard to be (perhaps a bit too hard.) What can be said is that it is a consistently interesting film with a complex script detailing the dilemmas of some very complex characters.  The movie opens in the titular town, a speck on the map in the desert landscape that the official marshal for the area only rarely makes an appearance, thus forcing the townspeople to hire their own lawmen despite the fact that they lack legal status. When the movie opens, we find the town being routinely terrorized by a group of sadistic and wild cowboys led by Abe McQuown (Tom Drake). To show they are impervious to the law, they run the new marshal out of town in a particularly cruel and humiliating manner. (As with many films of this type, the townsmen are cowardly milquetoasts and even the deputy refuses to aid the marshal.) The town council decides to pay ten times the previous marshal's salary to hire Clay Blaisedell (Henry Fonda), a notorious and fearless gunman who has a reputation for restoring law and order to troubled towns. Blaisedell arrives with his constant companion, fellow gunman Tom Morgan (Anthony Quinn) and lays down the terms of his employment. In addition to his salary, Blaisedell demands complete autonomy over his methods for ridding Warlock of McQuown and his band of thugs. Additionally, he gets permission to open a gambling and prostitution sideline in the local saloon that he and Morgan will control. Out of desperation, the town council agrees.

The story focuses on a third major character in this scenario: Johnny Gannon (Richard Widmark), a disillusioned member of McQuown's gang who is becoming incensed at the senseless cruelty they practice. He stays with the gang only to keep an eye on his 19 year-old brother, Billy (Frank Gorshin), who is prone acting foolishly and impulsively. As Blaisedell and Morgan take draconian steps to confront McQuown and his men, the results become immediately apparent. However, the townspeople become leery of Blaisedell's dictatorial powers and hire Johnny Gannon to be the new marshal. Gannon has left McQuown's gang and is courageously promising to confront his former friends and ensure they leave the territory. This sets in motion competition with Blaisedell, who Gannon informs can no longer act as an unofficial arm of the law. Adding to this tension are a number of other factors that make "Warlock" play out at times like a soap opera. Blaisedell becomes engaged to local good girl Jessie Marlowe (Dolores Michaels), who is insistent that he reform his ways and adopt a respectful profession. This angers Morgan, who resents her interference. Meanwhile, Morgan is haunted the arrival in town of his ex-flame, the appropriately named prostitute Lily Dollar (Dorothy Malone), who is carrying a long-time grudge and threatens to undermine Morgan's reputation by revealing some devastating secrets about him.

There's a lot going on in "Warlock", both the town and the film, and at times the intelligent screenplay by Robert Alan Aurthur (based on the novel by Oakley Hall) seems over-stuffed with dramatic relationships and situations. At its heart, the film is about divided loyalties. Blaisedell wants to honor his promise to marry Jessie but he resents hurting Morgan in the process. Johnny Gannon is part of a gang he hesitates to leave because he feels loyal to his brother Billy and wants to act as his protector. The townspeople are grateful to Blaisedell for helping to restore peace to Warlock but they feel obliged to hire Gannon as the new lawman. I don't usually analyze films from a Freudian viewpoint because sometimes a cigar is just a cigar but one would have to willfully blind to ignore the homoerotic elements in the relationship between Blaisedell and Morgan. They are more like a married couple than old buddies. Indeed, when Blaisedell announces his engagement to Jessie, Morgan reacts like a spurned lover and has a breakdown of sorts that leads to a dramatic incident of violence. As for Blaisdell, he seems rather passive about the coming wedding, acting very much like a man who feels marriage is a mandatory part of a straight man's life, so he'd better get hitched in order to reassure himself of his masculinity. It's also worth noting that both Blaisdell and Morgan pay a lot of attention to their wardrobes and dress like dandies, which would be in line with Hollywood's perception of homosexual men in the era in which the film was made. In any event, this not-so-subtle element of the plot adds a fascinating angle to the production. The performances are uniformly excellent under the direction of Edward Dmytryk, the former blacklisted filmmaker who revived his career by naming names- which might add yet another level of Freudian analysis to a plot that centers on guilt-ridden, emotionally conflicted protagonists.

The Twilight Time region-free Blu-ray does justice to the fine cinematography of Joseph MacDonald, which makes the most of the vistas that were meant for CinemaScope. Bonus extras are limited to the original trailer, isolated score track and brief newsreel bit featuring Fonda at a charity event. There are also the usual insightful liner notes by Julie Kirgo. "Warlock" gets a bit bogged down in its own excesses (the 121 minute running time begins to make the film sag toward the end), but it is intelligent, compelling and engaging throughout. Recommended.

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BY DOUG OSWALD

Gregory Peck is an Army intelligence officer stationed in West Berlin during the Cold War in “Night People,” available on Blu-ray by Kino Lorber. Lt. Colonel Steve Van Dyke (Peck) is investigating the kidnapping of an American soldier stationed in West Berlin and taken by Soviet agents to East Germany. It’s unknown at first why the soldier was taken, but his wealthy industrialist father soon arrives in an attempt to get his son back with money if necessary. His philosophy is everyone has a price, but Van Dyke knows better and has no time for outside interference. Broderick Crawford plays the father, Charles Leatherby, who uses his connections in Washington to meet with the American government bureaucrats in West Berlin. Van Dyke dresses down the father in short order, but builds a relationship with Leatherby in order to keep him on a short leash and use him in the correct way.

Van Dyke is also finalizing a plan for a Russian to defect to the West with his family and thinks the kidnapping may be connected, but it turns out to be far more complex. Van Dyke has a German informant, “Hoffy” Hoffmeier (Anita Bjork), with an addiction to absinthe and their relationship may be more than professional. Van Dyke is assisted by his military aid, Sergeant Eddie McColloch (Buddy Ebsen), and his German secretary, Kathy Gerhardt (Marianne Koch), always suspicious and jealous of Hoffy. The Cold War was a complex puzzle, especially in Berlin, a divided city in a divided country, often with divided and complex allegiances. It turns out the kidnappers want an elderly married couple who helped the allies during WWII. They’re wanted by East Germans seeking revenge against the couple for their betrayal of Nazi Germany.

Written and directed by Nunnally Johnson, the complex plot requires close attention. The story unfolds mostly at night and has a neo noir feel to it. Its spy vs. spy with double agents and triple agents and repeat viewing is rewarded with greater clarity. There are nuances I missed the first time around and if there is a flaw in this movie, it’s that the plot is almost too complex. After a follow-up viewing, things made more sense and that’s one of the many joys of home video – rewind and repeat. I’m not sure how audiences reacted to this movie when released in theaters and I wonder how often it was broadcast on television. I’d never seen the movie until this Blu-ray was released and I enjoyed the complex nature of the plot. It requires the viewer to think through the plot as if building a puzzle, anticipating the patterns as each minute is pieced together. This isn’t a thriller dependent on action, fights and car chases. It requires the viewer to think.

The cast features familiar character actors like Max Showalter as a local American bureaucrat, Walter Abel as an Army surgeon always begging a smoke, Peter van Eyck as a local West German bureaucrat and John Horsley as a British Army liaison. Buddy Ebsen is terrific as Sergeant McColloch and steals nearly every scene. The kidnapped soldier is played by Ted Avery and his role is almost a footnote as the main thrust of the story is the spy game as it unfolds over several nights. Much of the movie takes place in a few key locations including Van Dyke’s office, a local nightclub and an Army hospital. Much of the plot unfolds over telephone calls with a vital story twist made after an interrogation and an innocent conversation between Van Dyke and the British liaison. I’m not going to reveal it here, but it unfolds quickly as all the pieces are fitted together.

The Blu-ray looks and sounds terrific with a neo-noir feel to the color production. Filmed in CinemaScope and released in 1954, the film clocks in at 93 minutes. An unobtrusive score by Cyril J. Mockridge works well to help set the mood throughout the film. Extras on the disc include trailers for this and several other Peck titles released on Blu-ray by Kino Lorber. There’s also a nine -minute interview with Peck’s children discussing their father and this movie. I highly recommend “Night People” for fans of Peck and those who enjoy a complex Cold War thriller driven by great characters and a complex plot.

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A CINEMA RETRO EXCLUSIVE:

DIRECTOR JOHN STEVENSON (""KUNG FU PANDA", "SHERLOCK GNOMES") PAYS TRIBUTE TO A SPECIAL EFFECTS GENIUS

Stop motion animation is still the most magical of special effects techniques to me, because instinctively you know that real light is falling on a real object that is seemingly moving of its own volition. Computer Generated Imagery may be able to create more complex and fluid motion, but we instinctively know that what we are looking at does not exist in our world. There is still an arcane power in watching something you know you can touch move on its own. So films featuring stop motion animation were my great passion as a child.

Stop motion animation was the Rolls Royce of special effects techniques in the 1960s and early 1970s. If you were a young fantasy addict a new Ray Harryhausen film at the local ABC cinema was the equivalent of a new MCU film dropping today. Because Ray Harryhausen lived in London he sometimes appeared on British television with his models ( programmes such as “Screen Test” with Michael Rodd in 1970) where he would explain the principals of stop motion animation, which gave me a basic understanding of the technique at a young age. Stop motion animation could also be found in children’s television shows like “The Pogles” and “The Magic Roundabout”, commercials and even on “The Old Grey Whistle Test” where clips from Ladislas Starevitch’s films would sometimes accompany music tracks (courtesy of Phillip Jenkinson). It was a golden age if you were a fan of the technique, and Ray Harryhausen became my idol, representing everything that was magical about the movies for me. But I had yet to discover Karel Zeman.

I first encountered Karel Zeman’s work on a British children’s T.V show about movie special effects that showed extracts from a 15-minute Czech film called “The Magic World Of Karel Zeman” made in 1962. At the time I had no idea what I was looking at. The only part I remember clearly was a scene that showed some children climbing on the back of a dead Stegosaurus, then the camera tracked around to reveal that the Stegosaurus was a painting on a sheet of board close to the camera while the children stood on a wooden frame a long way in the distance. This was supposedly how they shot the scene from “Journey To The Beginning Of Time” (Many years later when I finally got to see the film I was amazed to discover that the film employed a life size prop, not a painting. I wondered if Karel Zeman was playing a joke by deliberately misleading the audience?) As a child I was fascinated by this short clip of film and wanted to know more about the movie and the person who made it, but Karel Zeman was elusive and it was difficult to find any information on him in the pre-internet 1960’s. It would be another thirty years before I was able to see his film.

Karel Zeman was Czech and began his film career in advertising and first worked in animation making an advertisement for soap. In 1943 he accepted a job offer at Zlin animation studio and in 1945 became director of the stop motion animation production group and made his first short film “A Christmas Dream” (“Vanocni Sen”) which combined animated puppets and live action. Zeman then created a series of puppet shorts featuring a character called Mr. Prokouk, which were very popular. In 1948 he made the beautiful short film “Inspiration”(“Inspirace”) using animated glass figures, and two years later directed the half hour film “King Lavra” (“Kra Lavra”) which went on to win a National Award. Karel Zeman’s first feature film “The Treasure Of Bird Island” (“Poklad Ptaciho Ostrova”) was completed in 1952 and used innovative techniques to evoke Persian art. Then in 1955 he made the first of his six feature films to use his unique combination of live action and animation techniques that would secure his place in movie history, the remarkable “Cesta Do Praveku”, or “Journey To the Beginning Of Time”.

JTTBOT tells the story of four children who venture back in time to discover the origins of life on Earth. On the way they encounter creatures from the Quaternary, the Tertiary, the Mezazoic, and Paleozoic eras. Uniquely and charmingly, no time is spent on a logical explanation for their trip. There are no fantastical devices here-no time machines, no boring into the center of the Earth, no discovery of lost plateaus or uncharted, mist shrouded islands. The boys want to go, so they go. They take a small boat and enter a mysterious cave tunnel and emerge in prehistory travelling further back in time as they follow the river to its source.

Apart from Karel Zeman’s most obvious accomplishments in creating myriad special effects sequences, his skill as a director is evident in his handling of the child actors, most of whom were not professionals. He elicits natural, unforced performances from his cast with none of the sentimentality or grating archness found in many American and British films featuring child actors from the same period. Zeman’s use of the camera is also very effective with many tracking shots taken on location or on studio sets closely following the children before an encounter with a prehistoric creature. These shots with the camera following just behind the children’s shoulders or tracking back in front of their faces puts the audience directly inside their experience and makes the build up to the reveal of the various creatures much more powerful. Compare these pre-effects sequences with similar scenes in American dinosaur films from the same period such as “Unknown Island” (1948) or “The Lost Continent” (1951) to see that Zeman’s direction is much more effective. Perhaps his least appreciated talent is as a writer. Apart from a few places where the film becomes too studiedly educational, most of the dialogue between the children flows naturally and believably. His abilities as a scriptwriter would become more apparent in his later works.

But the main reason anybody sees a film like this is to see the recreation of prehistoric life and it is here that Karel Zeman differentiates himself from Willis O’Brien and Ray Harryhausen. These movie giants concentrated on one technique, stop motion animation combined with live action via miniature rear projection or travelling mattes, to create their illusions. They occasionally used giant props (King Kong’s hand or the Pteranodon’s feet from “1,000,000 Years B.C.”) to interact with the human actors, but all the creatures were primarily brought to life by stop motion animation (sometimes augmented by a mechanical head for close up’s like the King Kong bust, or the Ceratosaurs from “The Animal World”).

Karel Zeman is different from every other movie magician by fearlessly utilizing every FX and animation technique available to him at the time and often switching technique multiple times within a single scene. Examples are the mammoth, which is sometimes a stop motion creation and sometimes a mechanical puppet shot in camera on location with the children. The Phorusrhacos is a stop motion puppet, a hand puppet for close ups, and a paper cut-out for the running shots. The Brontosaurus is a combination of a mechanical head atop a painted flat body for the shots on land, and a hand puppet for the shots in water. The Uintatherium is combination of stop motion and close up’s using a mechanical head. Zeman is also fearless about using completely different techniques not commonly used in visual effects films, such as creating a herd of bounding antelope, giraffes and a Smilodon purely through paper cut out animation. An Edmontosaurus (called a Trachodon in the film) and an amphibian (possibly an Eryops) are brought to life as hand puppets. This willingness to use any technique to create the creatures means that the menagerie in “Journey To The Beginning Of Time” is much larger than in Willis O’Brien’s “King Kong” (9 stop motion creatures, King Kong, Brontosaurus, Stegosaurus, two legged lizard, Tyrannosaurus (probably), Elasmosaurus, Pteranodon, prehistoric vulture (possibly Merriam’s Teratorn), various birds) or Ray Harryhausen’s “1,000,000 Years B.C. (13 creatures including a photographically enlarged iguana, tarantula, and grasshopper, Allosaurus, Archelon, Brontosaurus, Ceratosaurus, Pteranodon and its two chicks, Rhamphorhynchus, Triceratops, and a live warthog). In “Journey To The Beginning Of Time” we see 30 creatures (Mammuthus primigenius, Coelodonta, Deinotherium, Honanotherium, Smilodon, Moropus, Uintatherium, Phorusrhacos, Helladotherium, Pteranodons, Styracosaurus, Stegosaurus, Brontosaurus, Edmontosaurus, Ceratosaurus, Meganeura, Eryops, Trilobite, plus a giant boa constrictor, a swimming amphibian, a sea snake, flamingoes, antelopes, giraffes, crocodiles, a leopard, vultures, turtles, various animated birds and a large, real carp). Zeman also outdoes Harryhausen and O’Brien by having multiples of the same animal in shot instead of the one representative of each species that show up for their one sequence in “King Kong”, “Son Of Kong”, “I,000,000 Years B.C.” or “The Valley Of Gwangi”, usually to menace the heroes or get into a fight. JTTBOT has a flock of flamingoes, a flock of Pteranodons, herds of antelope, gazelle and giraffe, a congregation of crocodiles, two grazing Helladotherium and two battling Coelodonta. These brief scenes of herds of wildlife eating or galloping add immeasurably to the believability of Zeman’s prehistoric world and make it seem like life continues once the camera has moved on, rather than the line of solitary creatures waiting for their turn to be menacing in the O’Brien or Harryhausen films.

BY LEE PFEIFFER

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. Highly recommended.

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BY HANK REINEKE

As best as I can determine, Curse III: Blood Sacrifice was never screened theatrically, at least not in the U.S. or England. It seems to have been unceremoniously trafficked directly to home video in 1990. The owners of the film chose to best capitalize on their investment by gamely resorting to placing full page advertisements in home-video industry trade publications, an attempt to get VHS retailers and rental stores to add the movie to their inventories. They boldly claimed in their promotional that the film was a genuine “Horror/Thriller in the tradition of The Serpent and the Rainbow,” a reference to Wes Craven’s and Universal Studio’s more celebrated voodoo film of 1988. And while Curse III bore no thematic – or even tangential - relationship to the earlier “Curse” films (The Curse (1987) and Curse II: The Bite (1989), the ad boasted to retailers they had sold over “60,000” copies of this semi-franchise’s first two films… so why not give this newest film – one featuring the great Christopher Lee (described in their broadside as the “Master of Suspense and Horror”) - a fair shot?

Scorpion Releasing’s new Blu Ray of Curse III: Blood Sacrifice is, technically, not the film’s first digital release. The film first appeared on laser disc in 1990, courtesy of RCA/Columbia Pictures Home Video, and this was soon followed by a more consumer-friendly VHS release originally retailing for $59.95. It disappeared from shelves soon thereafter, though it was infrequently broadcast in the US under the film’s original title Panga and released in the Beta format in the UK under the amended title of Witchcraft. The film would thereafter languish in semi-obscurity until 2015 when MGM re-issued the film on a blandly packaged DVD as part of the studio’s Limited Edition Series.

In truth, I wouldn’t have been happy paying $59.50 for the video cassette of this title back in 1991. Having said that it’s not a terrible film by any means, but neither is it a lost classic. Curse III: Blood Sacrifice was first and only film to be directed by the British film editor Sean Barton. By the time his voodoo opus arrived on the shelves of Blockbuster and other home video rental chains, Barton had already enjoyed a decade-long career in the film industry. He was, perhaps, best remembered among fans of fantastic films as one of three co-editors that helped bring Star Wars: Revenge of the Jedi to the big screen in 1983, but his résumé included work on an impressive number of theatrical features before that.

Curse III would not only serve as the vehicle marking Barton’s directorial debut, but also his first as co-screenwriter (having worked alongside South African scenarist John Hunt). Their screenplay was based on a story supplied by the Johannesburg-based actor and occasional writer Richard Haddon Haines. If the script’s storyline and characterizations are a bit thin, the film still manages to move along at a pace brisk enough to satisfy the more forgiving horror film devotees.

BY LEE PFEIFFER

Kino Lorber has released a Blu-ray edition of the obscure 1984 thriller "The Ambassador". Despite it's impressive cast, the film was barely seen in the United States and had only sporadic distribution in other parts of the globe. The movie was a production of the Cannon Group, the now legendary schlock factory owned and operated by passionate Israeli movie buffs Yoram Globus and Menahem Golan. Cannon specialized in building often sub-par movies on limited budgets around stars with name recognition. Usually backed by sensationalist ad campaigns, Cannon became the toast of the film industry for churning out product at an almost surreal pace. Initially, Cannon was awash with cash but as moviegoers tastes became more sophisticated their ratio of misses-to-hits increased and ultimately the company folded. Although Cannon is synonymous with low-end action films and tasteless comedies, the company did occasionally seek to elevate the quality of its output by producing higher quality productions. "The Ambassador" was one such instance. It was ambitious in terms of aspirations even if it fell short of delivering on them.

The film was shot entirely in Israel and was based on Elmore Leonard's crime novel "52 Pick-Up". However, when Leonard learned that the screenplay by Max Jack had discarded virtually all of the characters and set-pieces from his book, he disowned the film. (Curiously, Cannon would make this up to Leonard by producing a more literal version of the novel a couple of years later. It was released under the book's title and Leonard wrote the screenplay.) The titular character is Peter Hacker (Robert Mitchum), the U.S. ambassador to Israel. Hacker is an idealist who is determined to use his influence to bring about a two-state solution to the Middle East crisis that will allow Israelis and Palestinians to finally coexist peacefully. However, he not only has to overcome skepticism from mainstream people on both sides, there are also fringe terrorist groups determined to undermine his efforts. The film opens with Hacker and his embassy security man Frank Stevenson (Rock Hudson) attempting to broker a secret meeting in the desert between armed Palestinian and Israeli combatants. Against all odds, both parties send representatives but a terrorist group attacks by helicopter and slaughters most of the attendees. Undeterred, Hacker concentrates on courting young people on both sides in the hopes that he can convince them to use peaceful means to settle their differences. Hacker has other pressures in his personal life: his wife Alex (Ellen Burstyn) is suffering from alcoholism and makes a spectacle of herself at a high profile social occasion. More disturbingly, she's been carrying on an anonymous affair with a local Palestinian merchant, Mustapha Hashimi (Fabio Testi). He doesn't know that his lover is the wife of the American ambassador and she doesn't know that he is a bigwig in the Palestinian Liberation Organization and is under constant surveillance by the Mossad, the Israeli intelligence agency. It turns out someone has secretly filmed the lovers in bed. Hacker receives a phone call threatening to release the film unless he pays a million dollars ransom. This sets in motion a complex but interesting plot in which Hacker and Stevenson work to find the culprits and retrieve the film by any means necessary. The trail leads to mysterious and dangerous characters who attempt to assassinate Hacker even as he doggedly continues his obsession with finding a peaceful solution to Middle East violence.

"The Ambassador" features the three principals in very fine performances. An aging Mitchum still shows charisma and can deliver the goods in terms of a dramatic performance, despite the fact that he was said to be drunk throughout much of the shoot. Burstyn (in a role originally intended for Elizabeth Taylor) gives a daring performance for an actress over 50 years old by appearing topless in several scenes. Hudson, in his final feature film, cuts a handsome figure. He was still in fine athletic shape and performs quite a few action scenes with credibility. Mores the pity that the AIDS that would take his life within the next year was probably already beginning to take its toll on him. Donald Pleasence appears fleetingly but impressively as the head of the Mossad. The direction by the once-esteemed J. Lee Thompson is a step up from the celluloid claptrap he had been churning out for Cannon in recent years. It's also interesting to note that 22 years previously, he and Mitchum had teamed for the classic thriller "Cape Fear". "The Ambassador" has plenty of well-staged action scenes and Thompson makes the most of capitalizing on the Israeli locations, bringing a good sense of exotic atmosphere to the production. The script is more problematic because some aspects of the story stretch credibility. Ambassadors are to follow directions from the administration they serve. Peter Hacker is constantly freelancing by taking on well-intentioned but absurd secret missions and rendezvouses. In reality, he wouldn't last a day in the job. The film ends with a bloodbath but tries to mitigate the shock by tacking on a feel-good ending that comes across as contrived.

The Kino Lorber release has a very impressive transfer. There is a commentary track with film historians Nathaniel Thompson and Howard S. Berger, who present an informative discussion the film's editor, Mark Goldblatt. They provide a wealth of great information about the film (i.e. Rock Hudson was a last minute replacement for Telly Savalas). Goldblatt discusses the pros and cons of working for Cannon and bemoans the fact that the film was not widely seen. (He speculates it might have been made for tax shelter purposes.) There are times when the volume on Thompson's voice drops significantly, which is a bit annoying and, unless my ears deceive me, the track consists almost entirely of Thompson and Goldblatt with Berger only weighing in very infrequently. But the track is a great addition that gives valuable insights into a film that should have received more respect. The disc also contains two trailers: one for the American market and another for the international campaigns.

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BY HANK REINEKE

It was never his intention to be remembered as the Alfred Hitchcock of the Chester-Delaware Counties of Eastern Pennsylvania. Director Irvin S. Yeaworth Jr. was a devout Christian whose real passion was turning out religious-themed short films that would bring the Gospel to the masses. But such proselytizing was cost prohibitive. So, at the suggestion of - and in partnership with - Philadelphia-based distributor/producer Jack H. Harris, Yeaworth signed on to direct a handful of low-budget teenage dramas and science-fiction films. Harris had convinced Yeaworth that there was a cash-grab market for such indie films, and these productions would bring in enough revenue to fund projects with loftier aspirations.

Yeaworth’s first feature film (as co-producer), The Flaming Teenage (1956), was not really his at all. It was instead a cobble of pre-existing footage from a drug-abuse morality fable now disguised and sold to distributors as an exploitation film. Things would evolve in the summer of 1957 when, working in tandem with the movie business-savvy Harris, Yeaworth’s Valley Forge Productions cameras cranked out the soon-to-be-cult-classic science-fiction film The Blob (1958) featuring twenty-seven year old Steve McQueen.

The partnership of Harris and Yeaworth proved to be a brief but modestly lucrative teaming of two disparate souls on separate life missions. Two additional sci-fi films, with Yeaworth directing and Harris co-producing, would follow in The Blob’s successful box-office wake: The 4D Man (1959) and Dinosauraus! (1960). Though neither of these subsequent films would inculcate their way into the American pop-culture psyche as had The Blob, The 4D Man, the first of the two, is an intelligent, under-praised minor contribution to the 1950’s sci-fi canon.

One of the bonus features included on this new Blu-ray release of The 4D Man from Kino Lorber is “Reflection from the Fourth Dimension,” a featurette ported over from the German SubKultur 2011 DVD issue of the film. These dimensional reflections come courtesy of Jack H. Harris (1918-2017) who muses unapologetically on a career of bringing exploitation films to the big screen. Aside from his participation in The Blob, Harris might be best remembered as the man who helped bring such post-college student cult films as Schlock! (1973) and Dark Star (1974) to movie houses. His penny-pinching patronage of young talent undoubtedly helped launch the careers of directors John Landis and John Carpenter, respectively.

Harris brags in the featurette that he never had to license any literary works to bring a story to the screen. There were, he muses, plenty of ideas already out there, so why pay to license any literary material? Having said that, the wily producer would admit the idea for The 4D Man was not entirely self-generated. It came to him courtesy of an illustration on the cover of Weird Tales magazine, where a man was pictured walking through a wall, his body mass co-mingling seamlessly with the atoms of the brick.

Harris was a film economist of the Roger Corman School, and Yeaworth was a dependable enough filmmaker to stay on budget. Shot entirely in Chester and Delaware Counties, Pennsylvania, fans of The Blob will recognize many of the same faces from that film in small supporting roles here: actors from Yeaworth’s personal troupe (George Karas, John Benson, Elbert Smith et. al.). And, in much the same manner that The Blob had helped introduce Steve McQueen to movie audiences, The 4D Man would mark the feature film debut of actress Lee Meriwether.

Crowned as Miss America in 1955 during the pageant’s very first televised edition, Meriwether would tour as a spokesman for the organization during most of the following year. She then began to pick-up small roles in early, live television productions, before being offered the substantial role of Linda Davis in The 4D Man. Looking back on her experience, Meriwether fretted that she was perhaps still “too green” as an actress for the assignment and unsatisfied with her performance. She thought the film’s screenplay (co-written by Theodore Simonson and Cy Chermak) was, in her own words, “very involved.”

She had a point. Trying to explain away the complex concepts of a scientist moving in and out of the fourth dimension was a tough task, though it must be said that the movie’s special effects are relatively impressive for a regional film shot on a modest budget. Meriwether’s character works at the Fairview Research Center, where some sort of secret federal government experimentations are underway. It’s no secret that she has to contend with her fair share of sexual harassment in the workplace. She’s engaged to Dr. Scott Nelson (Robert Lansing), in love with the doctor’s brother, Tony Nelson (James Congdon) and is routinely and unwelcomingly being hit up for dates by the shifty Roy Parker (Robert Strauss).

Tony Nelson is, to put it politely, a disruptor. Obsessed with his experimentations with the fourth dimension, he accidentally burned down the workplace of his previous employer. Understandably dismissed from his position following that inferno, he resurfaces at Fairview where his older brother Scott serves. The two appear to have a frosty relationship. Their grudging interactions become understandable when we learn that Tony has a history of running off with Scott’s paramours. Unfortunately for Scott, his inability to hold on to women will soon be the least of his troubles.

Not only are his inventions being co-opted by both a shifty coworker and an unscrupulous boss, he’s also beginning to suffer symptoms of muscular stiffness. The laboratory’s medical officer suggests his ever-worsening condition may be the result of exposure to excessive amounts of radiation. It’s also determined that he is sending out strong “electro-magnetic impulses” and other tests reveal his brainwaves are registering “different than most people.” Perhaps even enough to drive him mad.

These conditions ultimately result in his being able to pass through glass, metal, drywall, brick, and steel. The only way he can renew his personal energy and appearance is to literally suck the life out of his flesh-and-blood victims through a kiss or simply a mere touch. Having an intimate knowledge of the science brother Tony rues, “A man in the fourth dimension is indestructible.” Perhaps.

If The 4D Man was ambitious in its cerebral storyline, the final project pairing Harris and Yeaworth was ambitious in its scope… CinemaScope. Harris was able to sell an idea for a combination prehistoric monster/children’s film Dinosauraus! to Universal-International… where the film would play in some markets as the under-bill to the more adult-orientated Brides of Dracula. It’s the mostly visually impressive of Yeaworth’s films. Gone from the screen are the low-budget locations shoots mounted in and around the sleepy hamlets of the director’s hometown. They’ve now been replaced by the exotic beaches and townships of St. Croix, in the Virgin Islands, and the film comes replete with colorful underwater sequences, boasts its very own team of special effect experts and features a great Ronald Stein score.

BY FRED BLOSSER

The fashions, set designs, and social conventions of “Midnight Lace” were finely tuned to the expectations of audiences who trooped to their local theaters to see the film on its release in 1960, making it the year’s eleventh highest-grossing production. Nearly sixty years later, those same glossy Hollywood trappings have an almost campy quaintness. How often do you see anyone wear a pillbox hat anymore, outside of a drag parade? Regardless, the film’s basic plot would still fit nicely into any of today’s TV soap operas. The principal characters would be a little younger, they’d sleep together in the same bed instead of by themselves in separate twin beds, and the male lead would take off his shirt at least once an episode to display his ripped physique -- that’s all.

Kit Preston (Doris Day), an American heiress newly married to British financier Anthony Preston (Rex Harrison) and relocated from the U.S. to London, begins receiving obscene, threatening phone calls from an anonymous stalker. Her husband and her friends are sympathetic at first, but gradually they begin to express skepticism because Kit is the only one who hears the calls. Inspector Byrnes of Scotland Yard (John Williams) is even more cynical: “We waste half our time looking for crank phone callers who don’t even exist, except in the minds of unhappy women. You’d be surprised how far a wife would go to make a neglectful husband toe the mark.” Today a comment like that would get a senior police officer censured for insensitivity if not kicked off the force, but in the mindset of 1960, his opinion seems to be supported by the circumstances. The charming but work-obsessed Anthony spends more time in the boardroom than at home, and as a newcomer to the U.K. the lonely Kit feels isolated. Even her visiting Aunt Bea (Myrna Loy, sharp as a tack and looking terrific at fifty-five) begins to wonder.

From the outset, though, the viewer knows that Kit is telling the truth, and the mystery for us becomes not whether she’s delusional, but who’s behind the threats? The script serves up a rich array of suspects. Is she being menaced by her housekeeper’s smarmy nephew (Roddy McDowell)? By her husband’s financially troubled associate (Herbert Marshall)? By Anthony’s assistant Daniel (Richard Ney), who seems to be nursing other ambitions under his obsequious facade? “So many red herrings!” as critic and writer Kat Ellinger observes in her fine audio commentary on a new Kino-Lorber Blu-ray release of the movie. A handsome construction manager overseeing a renovation next door seems to be a good guy (John Gavin), but he’s troubled by lingering wartime PTSD, and he’s been using the phone in the back room of the local pub to make calls of an undisclosed nature. When a stranger intrudes into Kit’s apartment, inconveniently disappearing when she summons help, he’s likely to become the viewer’s prime suspect, and not only because of his black overcoat and sinister cast of features. He’s played by Anthony Dawson, well-remembered (like John Williams as the police inspector) from “Dial M for Murder.” In the Hitchcock thriller, Dawson was the guy who attempted to strangle Grace Kelly. By and large, the script plays fair in planting its clues and casting our suspicions first on one character and then another, although the resolution may not surprise hardcore movie-mystery fans. The phrase “Midnight Lace” is uttered once in the film as the style of a black negligee that Kit promises to wear if Anthony takes her on their deferred honeymoon to Venice, but it doesn’t have any real bearing on the character’s plight. Still, it’s a classy and evocative title that was repurposed for an inferior, unrelated made-for-TV movie in 1981.

BY LEE PFEIFFER

The year 1969 was an extraordinarily good one for movies. In addition to some of the best major studio releases of all time, the year also saw some innovative independent films. Among the most consequential was "Putney Swope", directed by Robert Downey (now known as Robert Downey Sr. to differentiate him from his offspring, the popular leading man.)  Downey is an unapologetic liberal who thrived during the counter-culture revolution of the late 1960s. "Putney Swope" seemed to be the kind of avante garde filmmaking that would never see a wide release. The film was shot almost entirely in black-and-white during a period in which the format had been deemed uncommercial for years. He also  took some broadside shots at the sacred cows of American capitalism.The movie was saved from oblivion by the owner of the Cinema V theater chain who was enthusiastic about the script and Downey's disregard for conventional opinions. Because Cinema V owned enough theaters to give the film a wide release, it ensured that the critics and public would at least be aware of its existence. No one foresaw that the film would become a highly acclaimed commercial hit. In the process, the film's poster depicting a white hand giving the middle finger salute (with a black woman symbolizing the offending digit) became a iconic image. The cast was largely unknown at the time but some of actors went on to varying degrees of fame (Allen Garfield, Allan Arbus, Antonio Fargas, Stan Gottlieb.) 

The film opens with a striking scene in which a helicopter lands in New York City. A man who appears to be an uncouth biker-type emerges carrying a briefcase and he's met by a senior executive from an advertising firm. At a board meeting, the man who arrived by helicopter informs the executives that the beer they are marketing is worthless and that beer itself is only loved by men with sexual inadequacies. He then promptly departs. This is only the beginning of a very strange journey. Soon, the hapless ad men are squabbling over whether to heed the advice or not. Then the megalomaniac who owns the agency arrives to address them, only to keel over and drop dead on the conference table. Top executives immediately rifle through his pockets and rob him of any valuables before voting on who should be the next chairman. Through an unintended fluke, the choice proves to be Putney Swope (Arnold Johnson), a middle-aged token African-American who relishes now being in charge of an agency that symbolizes hypocrisy and greed. Swope loses no time in making sweeping changes in accordance with bringing about social reforms. He fires most of the white workers and replaces them with an eclectic group of black executives, none of whom seem remotely qualified for the tasks at hand. Swope renames the business as  the Truth & Soul Agency and launches outrageous ad campaigns that are designed to offend everyone. In ads for an airline, female flight attendants are depicted dancing topless and sexually assaulting male customers. In a sweetly filmed commercial, a young interracial couple sing romantically about dry-humping. Ironically, the strategies work and Truth & Soul is making millions from clients who consider Putney to be a messiah of advertising. Soon, he's living the high life, espousing socialist/communist rhetoric and even dressing like Fidel Castro. However, Putney becomes aware of the fact that even his hand-chosen minority employees are not immune from greed and corruption. At home, his new diva-like wife takes pleasure in abusing their white servant girl.  What's the message behind all this? Who knows. Perhaps Downey is simply trying to say that capitalism corrupts across racial lines. In any event, the film ends on a bizarre, cynical note. Oh, and did I mention the casting of little people as the corrupt and perpetually horny President of the United States and First Lady who host group sex encounters?

"Putney Swope" is a brazen and entertaining film even though the script is erratic and scattershot. Much of it is tame by today's standards but the film pushed the envelope back in 1969. (I don't believe it was ever formally given a rating but it was considered to be "Adults Only" fare by most theaters.)  Much of the credit for the movie's unique look must go to cinematographer Gerald Cotts, who had never shot a feature film before. He gets some striking shots and, to emphasize the impact of Putney's offensive TV commercials, these are the only scenes that are shown in color. The performances are uniformly amusing and Arnold Johnson makes for a compelling protagonist even though Downey ended up dubbing his voice with his own, ostensibly because he said Johnson couldn't remember his lines. Some of the gags fall flat and the film as a whole is a mixed bag but there is no denying that it represents the epitome of American independent filmmaking from this era.

BY LEE PFEIFFER

The Cohen Collection has released the obscure but worthy 1977 ensemble comedy "Between the Lines" as a special edition Blu-ray. Back in the day, the film won acclaim at film festivals but was barely seen by the public. The movie was the brainchild of aspiring screenwriter Fred Barron, who approached director Joan Micklin Silver, who had won praise for her feature film "Hester Street", released in 1975, which chronicled the experience of Russian Jews who emigrated to America in the late 19th century. "Between the Lines" was sandwiched between "Hester Street" and her 1988 film "Crossing Delancy", which also won a good deal of praise. The film was shot entirely in Boston and takes place at the cramped offices of an alternative weekly newspaper. The progressive staff is comprised of young people who caught the tail end of the protest movements of the mid-to-late 1960s. By the time 1977 rolled around, that movement- having accomplished much- was diminishing by the day. The staffers doggedly pursue muckraker journalism while coping with measly salaries that see them perpetually scrounging in order to let off some steam at the local bars. Having served on a campus newspaper during this period, I can attest that director Micklin Silver perfectly captures the mood of such a setting. In the pre-internet era, campus papers and alternative weeklies were widely read by young people and carried a good deal of influence. (My own contributions were somewhat less impressive: I was the film critic, an enviable position because I got to see major films in advance without having to delve into my barren wallet.)

The staffers portrayed are a diverse lot ranging from those dedicated to the highest standards of journalism and others who simply hang around, having lost the spark that once inspired them. The offices are cluttered and messy and even the one modern perk- the coffee machine- constantly malfunctions. The screenplay is meandering as it covers the personal relationships between this diverse group of young writers and editors. They are also fearful of rumors that the paper will soon be sold to a rich man (Lane Smith in full Nixonian mode) they suspect will put profits above integrity. The staffers are an incestuous lot in the sense that, despite the fractured inter-office romances and friendships, they can't quit each other. There is romantic sex, spontaneous sex and revenge sex. Since the film was directed by a woman, it's not surprising that it plays out in a sympathetic manner to the female characters who are generally presented as honest and intelligent while even the most likable male characters are impulsive and self-centered. Given the scarcity of women filmmakers during this period, it's hard to gripe about the men not getting a fair shake, given the fact that so many movies of the era presented female characters in equally simplistic terms.

"Between the Lines" features an engaging cast of up-and-comers who would find varying degrees of stardom over the next few years. Lindsay Crouse, Jill Eikenberry and Gwen Welles are the female leads and acquit themselves very well indeed. The male cast contains some very good performances as well with Jeff Goldblum funny as a slacker on the newspaper staff whose desire to change the world has degenerated into trying to justify his meager $75 pay check; John Heard as a once-estimable writer who has also fallen on hard times and Stephen Collins, especially good as an aspiring author who becomes an elitist snob when he finally gets a book contract. (Given the sharp edges Collins provides to the character, it is especially disappointing that henceforth he would mostly be cast in bland roles as romantic leads.) Bruno Kirby, having distinguished himself as young Clemenza in "The Godfather Part II" shines as the office nerd and Marilu Henner gives a fine performance as a stripper with a heart of gold. Michael J. Pollard is woefully underutilized but Lane Smith shines as the newspaper's new owner.  I even unexpectedly spotted a personal friend, New York publicist Gary Springer in an early acting role. We're also treated to a 1977 concert by Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes, who are still a popular attraction in New Jersey. Kenneth Van Sickle provides some impressive cinematography and Michael Kamen adds some original musical scoring. It all moves along briskly under Micklin Silver's assured direction and makes for a generally compelling and interesting film.

The Cohen Collection provides an excellent Blu-ray transfer along with an original 1977 TV spot and a trailer for the remastered reissue of the film. There is also an engaging recent on-camera interview with Joan Micklin Silver in which she discusses the challenges of being a female film director then and now. In all, an impressive release. Recommended.

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“THE LONG HOT SUMMER”

By Raymond Benson

I was living in New York City in the summer of 1989, when Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing opened and caused a sensation. I recall finding the picture exhilarating at first, and then ultimately very disturbing. Racial tension in the city had been high following several incidents of police brutality against persons of color on one hand, and the Central Park jogger case, which had occurred a mere three months earlier, on the other. Was the film a cautionary tale or a call to action, or both?

Now, thirty years later, Do the Right Thing is more relevant than ever. Its message aside, the filmmaking warrants the accolades it has received over the years, and its reputation has grown considerably as one of the great American motion pictures. While Spike Lee has gone on to make many excellent movies, including last year’s Oscar-nominated BlacKkKlansman, he will likely be most remembered for his 1989 masterpiece.

The story takes place entirely on one neighborhood block in the section of Bedford-Stuyvesant in Brooklyn over a very hot couple of days in the summer of ’88. People tend to do crazy things when the weather is that hot. While Mookie (Spike Lee) is probably considered the protagonist of the tale, the focus is more on the entire ensemble of characters who live and work on the street in equal weight. Mookie delivers pizzas for Sal (Oscar-nominated Danny Aiello), who with his two sons, Pino (John Turturro) and Vito (Richard Edson), runs the only white business on the block. There is also a Korean market right across the street run by Sonny (Steve Park). Da Mayor (Ossie Davis) is an alcoholic who holds court with hazy words of wisdom, and he is constantly belittled by Mother Sister (Ruby Dee). Mookie’s pals Buggin’ Out (Giancarlo Esposito) and Radio Raheem (Bill Nunn), continually push people’s buttons. Buggin’ Out is an angry young man who resents the presence of Sal’s pizzeria and the fact that he puts no celebrities of color on his wall of fame. Raheem walks around with a huge boombox that blasts Public Enemy’s “Fight the Power,” annoying many, but mostly Sal. Mookie’s girlfriend Tina (Rosie Perez, in her debut film), has a young son with Mookie, but they don’t live as a couple. Instead, Mookie resides with his sister, Jade (Joie Lee). Acting as a sort of Greek chorus is the radio DJ, Mister Señor Love Daddy (Samuel L. Jackson, credited as “Sam Jackson” in these early days of his career), whose studio is right in the middle of the block.

Much of the picture is very funny—in fact, one could call the first 2/3 a comedy, a slice of life that shines a light on a marginalized community. This was revelatory in 1989. The final third, however, erupts into a shocking violence of racial conflict that leaves audiences truly jolted.

Many contemporary reviewers—white ones—misinterpreted the film. In a revealing “final word” video segment that is a supplement in this beautifully presented Criterion Collection 2-disk Blu-ray package, Lee calls out the critics who blasted him and the film for being a “lit fuse.” There was one critic who opined that the population should hope that the film better not play at a local theater, implying that it might incite a riot! Some more sensitive critics pointed to the moment when Mookie throws a trash can through a window, “doing the right thing” by directing the anger of the neighborhood residents to a building instead of against its white owners. Again, Lee questions that notion, for what Do the Right Thing is really about, what it really illustrates, is that white audiences were generally more upset about some property being burned down than they were about the murder of one of the black characters at the hands of the police.

And that’s the crux of the message. We’re to do the right thing by understanding where the injustice truly lies.

Criterion had released the movie on DVD in 2001 and has now upgraded it to a marvelous director-approved 4K digital restoration (also approved by cinematographer Ernest Dickerson), with a 5.1 surround DTS-HD Master Audio soundtrack. There’s a 1995 audio commentary by Lee, Dickerson, production designer Wynn Thomas, and Joie Lee.

Supplements include several that are ported over from the 2001 DVD: video introductions and closings by Lee; a 60-minute documentary of the making of the picture in a new 2K digital transfer; a featurette of Lee revisiting the location in 2000; Public Enemy’s music video of “Fight the Power” (directed by Lee); a forty-minute press conference from the Cannes Film Festival with Lee and members of the cast and crew; behind the scenes footage of the first readthrough and wrap party; original storyboards for the riot sequence; an interview with editor Barry Brown; and the theatrical trailer and TV spots.

New supplements on this Blu-ray edition include interviews with costume designer Ruth E. Carter, New York City Council member Robert Cornegy Jr., writer Nelson George, and filmmaker Darnell Martin; and deleted and extended scenes. The thick booklet contains an essay by critic Vinson Cunningham and extensive excerpts from Lee’s journal kept during the making of the film.

This is an exceptional release from the always reliable Criterion Collection. Do the right thing…and buy it.

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By Lee Pfeiffer

Referring to the 1955 film "Man With the Gun" as a routine Western might not sound like an enthusiastic recommendation. However, because the 1950s was such a fertile time for fine movies representing this genre, "routine" can be taken as praise. The film follows many of the standard story elements that were popular in horse operas of this era: a stalwart, mysterious loner with a shady past who takes on the forces of evil; a good-hearted "bad girl"; a larger-than-life villain and a town with a population of timid, helpless men who must rely on the stranger to save them from being exploited and cheated. Robert Mitchum, then an up-and-coming star, plays Clint Tollinger, a drifter with a reputation for taming wild towns. The town he rides into has a trouble with a capital "T". Seems one Dade Holman (Joe Barry) is the standard villain in a Western piece: he's been flexing his considerable financial resources by buying up all the surrounding land and using paid gun hands to terrorize or kill anyone who won't cede their property rights to him. Tollinger drifts into town to find that his reputation precedes him. He is hired by the local council to thwart Holman's thugs, who have also been disrupting the peace. Tollinger agrees as long as he has complete control over the methods he employs and that he is temporarily deputized, as well. He finds the local sheriff to be an aged, fragile man Lee Simms (Henry Hull), who is more of a figurehead than a respected lawman. Tollinger quickly reverses roles and becomes the central law officer in town, with Simms taking on the role of his deputy. It doesn't take long for Holman's gunmen to test his mettle. Tollinger proves to be adept at protecting himself, consisting outdrawing his adversaries and killing them even when they outnumber him. He also enforces a "no guns in town" rule and a curfew as well. Before long, the businessmen are complaining that now things are too peaceful and their businesses are suffering. Tollinger also interacts with a young couple who are engaged to marry: lovely Stella Atkins (Karen Sharpe) and her headstrong fiancee Jeff Castle (John Lupton) who continues to defy Holman's men and who has been seriously wounded for his refusal to cede a parcel of land Holman wants. Tollinger takes a liking to the couple, though rumors begin to swirl that Stella is more in love with him than she is with Jeff. Tollinger also encounters his estranged wife Nelly (Jan Sterling), who is running the local bordello/dance hall. The two are not happy to see each other and when Nelly reveals a shocking secret about their daughter, the enraged Tollinger goes on a rampage that terrorizes the town.

"Man With the Gun" suffers from a bland, uninspired title but the film itself is quite engaging. Mitchum looks terrific in the part, strutting about town ramrod straight and looking handsome even when embroiled in shoot-outs. Even this early in his career there was evidence of a superstar in the making. The supporting cast is also very good, especially some wonderful character actors such as Henry Hull, Emile Meyer, James Westerfield and other familiar faces of the era (including a young Claude Akins). The film, ably directed by Richard Wilson, is certainly no classic but on the other hand, it is consistently engrossing and highly entertaining. Despite the considerable talent involved, it's Mitchum's show throughout- and he delivers the goods.

The Blu-ray release from Kino Lorber does justice to the crisp B&W cinematography. The edition features the original trailer and bonus trailers for other Mitchum Westerns from the company, The Wonderful Country and Young Billy Young. 

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While criticism of Earthquake usually concentrates on its flaky Sensurround effects, the film’s more important flaws lie in a confused approach to the genre and – especially – one character who really belongs in a different movie altogether, writes BARNABY PAGE.

Although it remains one of the best-known of the early-1970s all-star disaster extravaganzas, Earthquake (1974) was less successful commercially than Airport, The Towering Inferno or The Poseidon Adventure, and did not enjoy the critical acclaim of the latter two.

It probably suffered in the short term from being released only a month before Inferno, and in the longer term from its over-reliance on the Sensurround system; watched now, though, it is flawed largely through discontinuity of tone and the uneasy co-existence of both a strong human villain and a natural threat. Still, the film casts interesting light on the genre as a whole, sometimes complying with its standards and sometimes departing from them.

At the time Earthquake must have seemed something of a sure bet, overseen for Universal by Jennings Lang, a veteran agent-turned-producer who was more or less simultaneously working on Airport 1975, had lately been responsible for some high-profile critical successes including Play Misty For Me and High Plains Drifter, and was a supporter of Sensurround.

Director Mark Robson had only a few years earlier delivered the hit Valley of the Dolls. Co-writer Mario Puzo was riding high on The Godfather, and Charlton Heston, although his fortunes had waned somewhat during the 1960s, had been revived as a star by Planet of the Apes. In Earthquake he would again be one of those square-jawed “Heston heroes who lack irrational impulses”, as Pauline Kael memorably put it (though not referring to this movie); he had lately played a number of characters who defended civilisation against all odds, in films from El Cid to Khartoum and Major Dundee, and even had a recent disaster-movie credit in Skyjacked.

Yet somehow none of its creators could quite make it jell, and we are never sure quite what kind of film we are supposed to be watching. It may not have helped that Puzo apparently left the project to work on The Godfather Part II and was replaced by the obscure George Fox, who – from what I can discover about him – seemed to be as interested in researching earthquakes for factual accuracy as in crafting an engaging drama. He wrote a little about the production in a book, Earthquake: The Story of a Movie, that was published to coincide with release of the movie.

From early on in the film, we feel it doesn’t quite have the slickness of the disaster classics. Earthquake belongs to a genre that at heart took itself very seriously, yet it is more humorously self-referential than them – not least when Charlton Heston reads, very woodenly, a script with Geneviève Bujold, who plays a wannabe actress. Another character, Victoria Principal, mentions going to a Clint Eastwood movie; and in one of the film’s most visually striking sequences we later see this Eastwood flick, running sideways during the quake before the projector conks out.

One could even take the repeated joke of the Walter Matthau character, drunk at a bar and ignoring the earthquake while randomly spouting the names of famous figures (“Spiro T. Agnew!” “Peter Fonda!”), as a comment on the all-star concept.

But at the same time Earthquake is also bleaker than many others; by contrast Airport is upbeat and even Towering Inferno, which ends on a prediction of worse fires in the future, also offers the hope that better architecture can prevent them. In Earthquake, however, the ending is distinctly mournful – with its semi-famous final line, “this used to be a helluva town” and the comment that only 40 people out of 70 trapped in a basement survived. (The death tolls in classic disaster movies vary, from negligible in Airport and Inferno to near-total in Poseidon; numerically, Earthquake sits in the middle, but it is clearly much more about destruction than salvation.)

And it also has more sheer nastiness than all the others combined, notably in the miserable marriage of Heston and Ava Gardner – made all the more bitter by the way Heston feels obliged to save her and dies in the attempt, when he could have reached safety with his newer love Bujold – and in the repellent character of Jody, the retail worker and National Guardsman played by Marjoe Gortner.