"RETRO-ACTIVE: ARTICLES FROM THE CINEMA RETRO ARCHIVES"

In 1986, the Imperial Toy Company licensed a line of official James Bond products. However, collectors were bewildered by the choice of items ranging from over-sized, cheapo plastic sunglasses to weapons,watches and communications equipment that were never seen in a 007 movie. The web site Plaid Stallions explains why.  It seems Imperial had an existing line of generic action toys and decided to use their license with Eon Productions to simply print stickers and packaging that featured Roger Moore and re-market the stuff as official Bond merchandise. Indeed, it was official but only in the technical sense. Ironically, the enthusiasm for vintage Bond memorabilia has seen some of these less-than-inspiring toys sell for surprisingly high prices.  Click here for photos and the full story. (Thanks to Nick Sheffo of the Fulvue Drive-in site for alerting us to this amusing article.)

By Lee Pfeiffer

Vinegar Syndrome has released a special edition of the 1968 whodunnit Western "5 Card Stud". It's an unusual title for the company, which generally specializes in releasing first rate special editions of obscure cult films and vintage erotica. The film was a follow-up project between veteran producer Hal Wallis and director Henry Hathaway, who had great success with their 1965 Western "The Sons of Katie Elder" which top-lined John Wayne and Dean Martin, who were reunited six years after co-starring in Howard Hawks' classic "Rio Bravo". "Stud" is by no means a classic, but it is a highly entertaining, offbeat entry in the genre, combining traditional Western elements with the novel idea of incorporating a plot concerning serial murders. Martin plays a character with a Hollywoodish name, Van Morgan. He's a professional gambler who finances his life and travels by dressing up like a dude and finding great success in the gambling parlors of Denver. In between games, he leads a low-key life in a small town of Ricon, Colorado, which is attracting miners intent on finding gold that is rumored to in the surrounding area. When the film opens, he is embroiled in a hard-fought game of poker with local men that extends well into the night. When one of the players is revealed to be cheating, the hot-headed Nick Evers (Roddy McDowell) overreacts and gets the other men to join him in tying up the culprit, riding him out by a nearby bridge to lynch him. Van attempts to stop the hanging, but Nick knocks him out with the butt of his pistol. Not much is done about the crime, since Nick is the son of beloved local cattle baron Sig Evers (Denver Pyle), a widower who runs the ranch with Nick and his sister Nora (Katherine Justice), who are both heirs to the cattle ranch. Nora clearly  is smitten by Van, who is reluctant to formally court her, given the fact that she is a decent woman and he lives a somewhat indecent lifestyle. Things kick into gear when one-by-one the men who participated in the fateful poker game are murdered.

The plot is yet another example of Agatha Christie's classic suspense novel "Ten Little Indians" having influenced films of every type of genre. However, the script by the estimable Marguerite Roberts (who would collaborate with Wallis and Hathaway the next year for the triumphant "True Grit") gives the movie an unusual angle for a Western. Roberts had adapted a little-known novel titled  "Glory Gulch" by Ray Gaulden and by all accounts took liberties to improve the story substantially. The movie comes to life with the introduction of the film's most dynamic character, the Reverend Rudd (Robert Mitchum), a gunslinging preacher who arrives out of nowhere to open the town's first chapel, determined to bring God into the lives of the town's hedonistic inhabitants. Rudd is a preacher in the fire-and-brimstone tradition. He's outwardly polite but also displays a healthy dose of cynicism. When one of the murders occurs in the chapel, he teams with Van to find the culprit as each of the poker players become increasingly paranoid that they might be the next victim.

The whodunnit aspect of the script is done away with when the identity of the killer is revealed well before the climax. The villain's identity won't come as a shock to any astute viewer, but it's an awful lot of fun watching the clues unravel. Martin was criticized by some reviewers for sleepwalking through his part, but it's an unfair criticism. He gives a perfectly fine performance even if he is upstaged by Mitchum in the meatier and more interesting role. Inger Stevens, in one of her final screen roles before tragically committing suicide at age 35, appears as Lily, a local madame who moves into town with her "girls" and opens a bordello disguised as an upscale tonsorial parlor, which results in some amusing dialogue and sight gags. Van finds himself torn between good girl Nora and the exotic bad girl Lily. The film boasts a marvelous cast of beloved character actors, some of whom only have bit roles. In addition to Denver Pyle, you can relish the presence of Yaphet Kotto, who is excellent in an early career performance. Other participants include John Anderson, Ruth Springford, Roy Jenson,Whit Bissell and Hope Summers, who was a regular on "The Andy Griffith Show". The only off-key note is provided by the miscast Roddy McDowell, who plays a villain in traditional Roddy McDowell style, with a quasi-English accent and an erudite manner that doesn't fit his role as a hard scrabbled cattle rancher. Hathaway's direction is spot-on and the film also offers a quirky musical score by Maurice Jarre that seems to emulate the music found in the Sergio Leone Westerns. We even get to hear Dino warble the catchy title song. 

The Vinegar Syndrome release is highly impressive, having been newly scanned and restored in 4K from its original camera negative. Aside from a blurry few seconds in the opening poker game the rest of transfer is excellent. The sleeve has very creative artwork by Tony Stella that seems to pay tribute to the Italian movie poster designs of the era. (There is also reversible sleeve artwork that shows the stars.) There's a 16-page, amply illustrated collector's booklet with an excellent and informative essay by film historian Jim Healy, who astutely points out elements of the film noir genre that are interwoven in the movie. Historian Lizzie Francke provides an excellent video essay about the dramatic life and career of Marguerite Roberts, who managed to rebound after being blacklisted during the dark days of McCarthyism. Film critic Walter Chaw provides a video essay that is devoted entirely to the life and career of Henry Hathaway, and states the obvious: he was always underrated. There is also an impressive commentary track by film book author and Cinema Retro columnist Brian Hannan, who provides plenty of very interesting insights into the making of the film and the Western genre of the 1960s. (He points out that "5 Card Stud" was quite successful at the boxoffice.) As side note, Hannan also runs the addictive blog "The Magnificent 60s".

I don't know if there will be more films of this type released by Vinegar Syndrome, but I hope this isn't an aberration and that there will be more to follow, especially if they are presented in such a fine manner.

Click here to order from  Vinegar Syndrome.

By Lee Pfeiffer

"Sweet November", released in 1968, came and went without generating much enthusiasm from critics or the public. Produced the estimable team of Jerry Gershwin and Elliott Kastner, who would go on to make "Where Eagles Dare", the film is a romantic comedy set in Brooklyn Heights, just across the river from Manhattan decades before the area was deemed to be hip. Anthony Newley is Charlie Blake, a stuffy British import to Gotham who is the workaholic president of a company that manufactures cardboard boxes. You know the type: no time for love or laughs and just perfect to be taught a life lesson by the right girl, who, in this case, happens to be Sara Deever (Sandy Dennis), a 23 year-old independent young woman who meets cute with Charlie while they both are taking a test to renew their driver's licenses. As in all such scenarios, the small talk is awkward and Charlie finds Sara to be wacky and annoying- before discovering that her bizarre conversations are somewhat intoxicating. Before long, they are pals and Sara brings him to her apartment. She explains she's an artist who has found a way to act as a de facto repair woman for other apartment dwellers, thus supplementing her income. She also has unusual living arrangements. Every month, she "adopts" a new man with emotional needs who gets to live with her for a full month, during which time she serves as an amateur psychiatrist who documents the progress (or lack there of) in bringing the temporary man of the house to a better status than she found him in. At the end of every month, the male tenant must leave to make room for his replacement. Sara can discern that Charlie is an uptight nerd who is also frustrated poet at heart. She convinces him to be her tenant for November. Since Charlie owns his company, he's able to take the time off, which serves as a reminder of nice things were before E- mails and text messages came to rule the lives of executives.

Sara's modest flat provides some amusing sight gags: her bed is located on a shaky platform accessible only by a even shakier ladder. However, the perks of being her "Tenant of the Month" are that you don't have to pay rent and you get to sleep with her, though the sexual aspect of the relationship is only hinted at. Charlie finds Sara to be a handful in terms of personality quirks. She has an opinion on everything and likes to play "Mother Hen", advising her tenants about how to improve their lives. Gradually, Charlie becomes intoxicated by her innocence and good nature. She's Holly Golightly on steroids, as she inspires him to explore his creative impulses, shed his business attire and dress in the currently mod styles. Sara introduces Charlie to her best friend, Alonzo (nicely played by Theodore Bikel), an artist and local activist who serves as a father figure to her. Before long, Charlie is madly in love with Sara and dreads the day when his eventual departure will have to occur in order to accommodate her next tenant. Until this point, "Sweet November" plays out like a sitcom of the era, albeit with some nice footage of Brooklyn. Director Robert Ellis Miller often encourages his stars to overplay the "cutesy" elements of their characters. Sara is almost pretentiously quirky and Charlie displays a fey personality and habits that were mostly associated with stereotypical gay characters of the era. However, Herman Raucher's script takes a somber turn in the last third of the film as Charlie desperately convinces himself that Sara loves him as much as he loves her. A dramatic twist is introduced that leads to a genuinely touching, if unexpected finale. As the script grows darker, the two leads have more to work with. Dennis brings a sensitivity to her performance as the ultimate liberated woman and Newley (who generally displays more ham than your local supermarket) eventually reigns in his comedic mannerisms and redeems himself by making Charlie a more sympathetic figure.

"Sweet November" has all the trappings of a stage play that was adapted to a film. In fact, it is not, although one can easily see it translated into a theater production, as most of the scenes take place in an apartment. The script was considered to be a hot property back in the day and Audrey Hepburn was said to have been interested in starring in the film. It enjoyed a prestigious opening at Radio City Music Hall but critics were dismissive of the movie, though the influential New York Times almost begrudgingly acknowledged a positive recommendation. The film quickly disappeared until 2001 when it was remade starring Keanu Reeves and Charlize Theron, though that film failed at the boxoffice as well. Despite its unenviable legacy, "Sweet November" is a touching film that will probably please most retro movie lovers. It is currently available as a region-free DVD through the Warner Archive. 

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"RETRO-ACTIVE: ARTICLES FROM THE CINEMA RETRO ARCHIVE"

By Lee Pfeiffer

We must admit that when it comes to showcasing bad movies, Cinema Retro is a bit provincial in that we tend to concentrate on misfires from English language cinema. But why not spread the wealth? After all, there are bad movies being made in every language. The good reaction we got from running the 1959 Mexican "Santa Claus" film has now inspired us to honor a bad Turkish flick, the 1972 crime thriller "Kareteci Kiz", of which we have only seen the death scene depicted here. If there is a worse scene showing the demise of a movie villain, we've yet to see it but your intrepid staffers will keep pursuing the quest. This also has the bonus of including what is probably the worst movie fight scene of all time. It's accompanied in part by some brief snippets from Hugo Montenegro's hot-selling 1966 cover version of "The Man from U.N.C.L.E." theme, thus illustrating the benefits to producers who don't have to worry about such nit-picky aspects of film making such as obtaining intellectual property rights. Enjoy!

Cinema Retro has received the following press release from Blue Underground:

On April 23rd, Blue Underground releases Goodbye Uncle Tom, one of the most graphic and notorious films ever made, on Limited Edition 4K UHD and Blu-Ray.  

Originally released in 1971, Goodbye Uncle Tom is an Italian mondo-docudrama based on true events about the rise and revolt of slavery in America.  

Directors Gualtiero Jacopetti and Franco Prosperi (Mondo Cane) used period documentation and historical accounts to recreate the antebellum south and the horrors of the slave trade. The film was so shocking in its detailed look at the atrocities of slavery that distributors in the US forced Jacopetti and Prosperi to cut it and radically re-edit the film before release.  

Even in its truncated form, Goodbye Uncle Tom created a stir amongst critics. Roger Ebert called it, “… the most disgusting, contemptuous insult to decency ever to masquerade as a documentary.” while Pauline Kael said, “the most specific and rabid incitement to race war," and The Detroit Chronicle hailed it as "a graphic, moving, nerve-paralyzing film."  

Goodbye Uncle Tom can now be seen more than five decades after its initial release in both its original uncut Italian version, alongside its drastically different English version, both fully restored in 4K from their original camera negatives. Includes a bonus Blu-ray disc with a wealth of supplemental features that give context to the staggering and violent look back at this horrific chapter of American history.  

The 4K UHD and Blu-ray Extras special features include feature-length documentaries; never-before-seen interviews with writers/directors Gualtiero Jacopetti, Franco Prosperi, composer Riz Ortolani and others; rare behind-the-scene footage; English and Italian trailers; still galleries, including Giampaolo Lomi’s behind-the-scenes photos; a bonus CD of the Original Motion Picture Soundtrack by Riz Ortolani; and a collectible booklet.   

Click here to order 4K 4 disc edition from Amazon

Click here to order Blu-ray edition on Amazon

By Darren Allison

Cult director Bert I. Gordon was at the helm for this terrifying story of supernatural passion. Set on an island in a tight-knit community, Tom Stewart (Richard Carlson) is preparing to marry the woman he loves. All is well until Tom's old girlfriend, Vi (Juli Reding), confronts him at the top of the island's lighthouse, claiming he can only be hers! A freak accident throws the scorned woman to her death. At first relieved, Tom's tune changes when her vengeful spirit begins to follow him wherever he goes. He's soon tormented, body and soul, by an unforgiving she-ghost! What lengths will Tom go to in order to protect his secret? Will the vengeful Vi finally reveal herself to the others at hand?

And the scene is pretty much set for a quite wonderful slice of low- budgeted shenanigans. Bert I. Gordon was of course a master of his art in this particular genre of filmmaking. Starting off in advertising using his trusted 16mm camera, Gordon wasn’t one to sit back and wait for success, instead he chased his dream, and as a result accomplished a pretty good career in movies. He’s best known for writing and directing science fiction and horror B-movie classics such as King Dinosaur (1955), The Amazing Colossal Man (1957), Earth vs. the Spider (1958), Village of the Giants (1965), and later the Joan Collins fun fest Empire of the Ants (1977).

In the late 50’s, ghostly supernatural films were building in popularity, movies such as Roger Corman’s The Undead (1957), Edward L. Cahn’s Voodoo Women (1957) and William Castle’s House on Haunted Hill (1959) signified a change in trends. Gordon was always astute and possessed a good sense of understanding when it came to successful box office. And so, following the current trend, Gordon embarked upon his own ghost story in the form of Tormented (1960). Starring Richard Calson, the actor that had already established himself in genre classics such as The Maze (1953), It Came from Outer Space (1953) and Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954). Carlson engages in the fun like a seasoned pro. He’s supported by former child star, Lugene Sanders, the marvellously formed Juli Reding, child actress Susan Gordon (daughter of the director) and a young, hip Joe Turkel – who appeared in Stanley Kubrick's The Killing (1956), Paths of Glory (1957), and later in The Shining (1980). Aside from being hugely enjoyable throughout, this Film Masters 4K restoration looks absolutely perfect. Stark, sharp and beautiful on the eye, the amount of work afforded to this rather cheaply made movie really elevates it to a much higher level. Blacks are nice and deep, and the images contains just the right amount of grain without over-cooking it. There seems to be a couple of very minor jump cuts along the way – best rest assured, blink at the right time and they’re pretty much undetectable. The print shows no wear, scratches and virtually free of dust and dirt spots. The audio clarity is also clean and bright in both DTS and the Dolby digital track. It’s very obvious that the efforts in restoring this film have really paid off and the results are hard to fault.

But this Film Masters release offers so much more – you really have to praise the package as a whole, there’s really no skimping or cutting corners in terms of its content. Firstly, and as we have come to expect with the Film Masters releases, there’s an interesting and insightful commentary track by historian, writer and filmmaker Gary Rhodes along with contributions by Larry Blamire. The track is a detailed and informative education. There is an all too brief featurette, Bert I. Gordon: The Amazing Colossal Filmmaker – which features an archival interview with the charismatic director who provides us with a general overview of how he began in the business of movies. Then there is Bigger Than Life: Bert I. Gordon in the 1950’s and 1960’s, a Ballyhoo Motion Pictures documentary featuring film historian C. Courtney Joyner. This documentary provides a great insight into the director’s career, with plenty of clips, stories, trailers, poster art and rare photos illustrated throughout – a real joy. For the more serious scholars, there is an enjoyable visual essay by The Flying Maciste Brothers (Howard S. Berger and Kevin Marr). The Spirit is Willing: CineMagic and Social Discord in Bert I. Gordon’s Tormented, offers a much deeper analysis of the movie and its implications – which is fine should you want to delve into that particular territory. At the other end of the spectrum, Film Masters also offers the whole film again, this time in the form of the Mystery Science Theater 2000 version (1992). There’s no disputing the fact that these presentations are purely produced as a put down or a ‘roasting’ for light-hearted entertainment – which is fine if this is your thing. At least Film Masters has again had the foresight to cover all areas, and provide something for everyone – dependent upon your particular taste. One thing I did find particularly interesting during this version is that it contains the original opening Allied Artists title – something that was missing from the restored main feature version. There are two Tormented trailers included, an original ‘raw’35mm version and a 2024 re-cut version using restored element. Again, a nice way of satisfy all audiences with both the old and the new, and I’m fully behind that way of thinking. Also included on the disc is an ‘unreleased TV pilot’ of Famous Ghost Stories featuring Vincent Price. I was initially quite excited about viewing this, as it tied in nicely with Tormented because the episode again starred Richard Calson and Susan Gordon. So, I was a little disappointed to discover that this was not the full episode and instead was simply just the opening and closing intro and outro clips featuring Vincent Price. The entire show would hade been a real treat if included. But overall, this minor quibble takes nothing away from what is a very generous collection of extras.

On top of that, Film Masters have also included a nicely produced 22-page illustrated booklet with essays by respected film historian Tom Weaver and novelist/filmmaker John Wooley. The film sleeve and booklet cover make good use of the original film artwork.

Film Masters have produced an excellent package with their presentation of Tormented. The company seems to grow from strength to strength with each of their new releases. It’s a rare feeling to feel genuinely excited when considering what might be waiting around the next corner. I can only hope it’s more of the same.

Click here to order from Amazon

(Darren Allison is the Soundtracks Editor for Cinema Retro), 

 

By Lee Pfeiffer

Actress Barbara Rush has passed away at age 97. Rush had a long career in film, theater and television. She worked under contract in the 1950s for both Paramount and Universal. Her first prominent role was in the 3-D sci-fi cult classic "It Came from Outer Space". She also had a major role in director Martin Ritt's 1957 drama "No Down Payment", a riveting critique of hypocrisy in post-WWII suburban society. She co-starred with Paul Newman in the acclaimed 1959 drama "The Young Philadelphians" and would reunite with him, playing an unsympathetic role, in Martin Ritt's 1967 classic western "Hombre". She was the female lead in the 1958 WII drama "The Young Lions" starring Marlon Brando, Montgomery Clift and Dean Martin. She would also co-star with Frank Sinatra in the comedies "Come Blow Your Horn" and "Robin and the Seven Hoods". In later years, she found success on television in recurring roles in the prime time soap operas "Flamingo Road" and "7th Heaven". She also toured in the one-woman stage production of "A Woman of Independent Means", earning kudos from critics. She also gained pop culture status in the 1960s by playing the villainess Nora Clavicle in the "Batman" TV series.  Rush was married three times, including to actor Jeffrey Hunter. She is survived by her son and daughter. For more click here.

Cinema Retro has received the following press release from Warner Home Entertainment : 

AMERICAN SNIPER COMES TO 4K ULTRA HD BLU-RAY AND DIGITAL

THE 2014 BIOGRAPHICAL WAR DRAMA DIRECTED BY CLINT EASTWOOD AND STARRING BRADLEY COOPER WILL BE AVAILABLE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 4K RESOLUTION WITH HIGH DYNAMIC RANGE (HDR)

Purchase the film on 4K Ultra HD Disc with Collectible Steelbook Packaging, 4K Ultra HD Disc and Digital on May 14

Burbank, Calif., March 26, 2024 – American Sniper, the 2014 biographical war drama directed by Academy Award Winning Director Clint Eastwood and starring Academy Award nominee Bradley Coopers as will be available for purchase on 4K Ultra HD Disc and Digital for the first time on May 14.

American Sniper will be available to purchase on May 14 on Ultra HD Blu-ray Disc from online and in-store at major retailers and available for purchase Digitally from Amazon Prime Video, AppleTV, Google Play, Vudu and more.

American Sniper stars Bradley Cooper as Chris Kyle. A two-time Oscar® nominee for his work in “Silver Linings Playbook” and “American Hustle,” Cooper stars alongside Sienna Miller, Luke Grimes, Jake McDorman, Cory Hardrict, Kevin Lacz, Navid Negahban and Keir O’Donnell. 

Oscar®-winning filmmaker Clint Eastwood (“Million Dollar Baby,” “Unforgiven”) directed American Sniper from a screenplay written by Jason Hall, based on the book by Chris Kyle, with Scott McEwen and Jim DeFelice. The autobiography was a runaway bestseller, spending 18 weeks on the New York Times bestseller list, 13 of those at number one. The film is produced by Eastwood, Robert Lorenz, Andrew Lazar, Bradley Cooper and Peter Morgan. Tim Moore, Jason Hall, Sheroum Kim, Steven Mnuchin and Bruce Berman served as executive producers.

American Sniper was nominated for 6 Academy Awards including Best Picture and Best Actor and won the Academy Award for Best Sound Editing.

American Sniper will be available on Ultra HD Blu-ray Disc with collectible steelbook packaging for $40.43 ERP and includes an Ultra HD Blu-ray disc with the theatrical version of the feature film in 4K with HDR and a Digital download of the film, and on Ultra HD Blu-ray Disc for $33.99 ERP and includes an Ultra HD Blu-ray disc with the theatrical version of the feature film in 4K with HDR and a Digital download of the film. Fans can also own American Sniper in 4K Ultra HD via purchase from select digital retailers beginning on May 14.  

About the Film

From director Clint Eastwood comes “American Sniper,” starring Bradley Cooper as Chris Kyle, whose skills as a sniper made him a hero on the battlefield. But there was much more to him than his skill as a sharpshooter. Navy SEAL Chris Kyle is sent to Iraq with only one mission: to protect his brothers-in-arms. His pinpoint accuracy saves countless lives on the battlefield, and as stories of his courageous exploits spread, he earns the nickname “Legend.” However, his reputation is also growing behind enemy lines, putting a price on his head and making him a prime target of insurgents. He is also facing a different kind of battle on the home front: striving to be a good husband and father from halfway around the world. Despite the danger, as well as the toll on his family at home, Chris serves through four harrowing tours of duty in Iraq, personifying the spirit of the SEAL creed to “leave no one behind.” But upon returning to his wife, Taya (Sienna Miller), and kids, Chris finds that it is the war he can’t leave behind. 

Warner Bros. Pictures presents, in association with Village Roadshow Pictures, A Mad Chance Production, A 22nd & Indiana Production.

American Sniper Ultra HD Blu-ray disc contains the following previously released special features:

· One Soldier's Story: The Journey of American Sniper

· Chris Kyle: The Man Behind the Legend?

· Clint Eastwood: A Cinematic Legacy – The Heart of a Hero

· Navy SEALs: In War and Peace

· Bringing the War Home: The Cost of Heroism?

· The Making of American Sniper?

· Guardian

American Sniper

Ultra HD Blu-ray Languages: English, French, Spanish

Ultra HD Blu-ray Subtitles: English French, SDH, Spanish

Run Time: 132 minutes

Rating: R

Street Date: May 14, 2024

Digital Street Date: May 14, 2024

Click here to pre-order from Amazon

By Hank Reineke

In the aftermath of the surprise runaway success of Arthur Penn’s Bonnie and Clyde – the Warner Bros. crime-drama garnering a fifty-million dollar profit on a two million dollar investment by the close of 1967 – rival studio United Artists wisely chose to give the director free-reign in choosing his follow-up project. Ultimately, Penn chose to give folksinger Arlo Guthrie’s already fabled talking-blues, the “Alice’s Restaurant Massacree,” a big screen treatment. The timing seemed right.

Though Penn’s new film would be far removed in temperament and style (and certainly less violent) than his previous effort it was, in many respects, a prudent choice. Such anti-establishment films as Easy Rider, Medium Cool and Wild in the Streets had proven critical and box successes in the years 1968-1969. Such free-spirited films brought in young, enthusiastic audiences, the movie industry’s most important target demographic. But Penn was also aware that this recent trend from literary to reality-based story-telling on film signaled an important shift. He told the Los Angeles Times that filmmakers were in increasingly “moving more and more into direct relationship with the populace.”

Guthrie’s meandering, sardonic epic – one seamlessly weaving an innocent’s view of government inanities, the overreach of small-town policing, of “American Blind Justice,” the travails of Selective Service draft board induction and of U.S. foreign policy in Vietnam – was blistering clear-eyed and acutely withering in its impossibly gentle, but mocking satire.

In March of 1968 Guthrie’s manager, Harold Leventhal, was in process of inking the film deal with Penn and UA. That very same month Guthrie’s debut album, also titled Alice’s Restaurant, had climbed to the no. 29 spot on the Billboard Top 100 album chart. Guthrie’s album had, improbably, been charting steadily upward since it’s entry in the no. 180 position in November of 1967. This was a particularly impressive feat for an album whose signature song was eighteen minutes and twenty seconds long. The song’s maddeningly memorable and cyclical melody was supported only by the most basic backing instrumentation: Guthrie’s acoustic guitar, a sparse standup bass and an impish typewriter-cadence drum beat.

By all measures, the commercial success of the “Alice’s Restaurant Massacree” was implausible. Guthrie’s studio recording was understandably ignored on ever-important AM radio – partly as no broadcast-length version was made available to them.* But long before Guthrie would formally record his shaggy-dog studio version of the “Massacree” in a professional setting in June of 1967, the song was already well-known by those listening to such free-form underground radio stations as New York City’s WBAI and Philadelphia’s WMMR. The song had been pirated – in several differing “live” versions and iterations – from reel-to-reel recordings sourced from Guthrie’s appearances during late-night on-air radio show appearances.

Thanks to the underground circulation of those recordings, the “Massacree” was quickly adopted as an anthem of the counter-culture, and by writers, artists and anti-war activists. In time, Guthrie’s talking-blues filtered up from underground radio to a more mainstream audience. The song particularly appealed to open-minded listeners, draft-age youngsters, journalists and social-political pundits. They immediately recognized that many of Guthrie’s satirical observations were acute and perhaps too-closely reflected a society going amiss.

Upon its release in September of 1969, Penn’s cinematic version of Alice’s Restaurant wasn’t the box-office blockbuster that Bonnie and Clyde was – but no one expected it to be. It was a more personal low-budget film, but one that still did great business. The film would bring in some 6.3 million dollars and sell just shy of 4.5 million paid admissions in the domestic North American theatrical market alone. The film’s cast of professional actors were supplemented by the townspeople of Stockbridge, Massachusetts, and by Guthrie’s own friends working as extras on the edges. Penn estimated that ninety percent of the extras in the film were of the community.

Penn’s cinema vérité style dabbles are evident throughout. The film’s primary strength is in its glimpses of the otherwise private involvements of the community congregating at Alice and Ray Brock’s Old Trinity Church in Great Barrington. The film, on occasion, has a documentary feel to it. This was Penn’s choice, his personal way of doing things. “I work very fluidly, with almost no preconceptions,” he told a visiting journalist on set. Penn also shared that he did not work from storyboards nor even visit locations prior to shooting. “I just sort of set up how life would be if you were in that situation.” It could be argued that the biggest issue with this approach was Penn’s viewing the unfolding drama through a lens of presumption: the film’s reality and fictional episodes are uneasily juxtaposed throughout.

Though Arlo Guthrie holds mixed feelings about the resulting film (“I only made one film,” he’d tell concert audiences over ensuing decades, “…’cause I saw it.”), his memories of working with the creative team involved remain warm. He thought Penn’s effort was an “honest” one, his efforts allowing outsiders a small peek into the “scene” built around the Old Trinity Church. But Guthrie was also aware that the scene at Trinity circa 1965 – the time of Guthrie’s Thanksgiving Day crime of littering - was a fluid one. Penn’s film could only provide a brief snapshot of a time already passed since, in coming days, Guthrie reckoned, “there’ll be a whole new scene up there, as everywhere else.”

Guthrie was only twenty-years old when the film went into production - and had not acted professionally in any capacity. Many on set in the summer of ’68 found the folksinger private and distant, “elusive” in answers to both crew members and visiting journalists. According to a long essay in Playboy magazine, even old friends at the Trinity suggested that Guthrie was “thought by some” to have already “left the family.” Certainly, his visits to the Trinity were less frequent due to his new touring and recording commitments. On the brighter side, manager Leventhal was impressed by his young client’s professionalism. He told the New York Times, “Here’s a kid who likes to sleep until 3:30 in the afternoon who had to make a 7:30 A.M. movie call every day for three months of shooting, and he did.”

In November of 2023 the University of Oklahoma Press published a biography of the folk-rock singer in which he and I collaborated: Rising Son: The Life and Music of Arlo Guthrie. Cinema Retro editor Lee Pfeiffer asked if Arlo might be willing to share some memories of his experience working on the Alice’s Restaurant film with Arthur Penn. Though it’s been nearly fifty-six years since production on the film began in June of 1968, Guthrie graciously offered to share some of his remembrances of that time with readers:

Q: My first question to you is a pretty general one. As a kid growing up in the 1950s and early ‘60s, how would describe your interest in cinema? Were you a big fan of the movies? If so, what sort of films were you attracted to?

Arlo: I wasn’t so much into films as I was more into TV shows. Obviously, films that came out when I was a little older - the mid to late 60s - had a bigger impact on me. “Bonnie & Clyde” for example.

Q: What were you favorite TV programs? I understand you were a big fan of Star Trek – and just missed out on being cast on an episode. What was the story behind that?

Arlo: I got a phone call from Leonard Nimoy one time, out of the blue! I couldn’t believe I was chatting with Spock! But I have no memory of being asked to participate with Star Trek. **

Q: I have a news-cutting from Variety reporting from your overseas promotional tour for the Alice’s Restaurant film. In this case, from Paris in May of 1970. At the press conference you suggested that following the release of the Alice film in the U.S. you were suddenly “offered ten films about hippies but would prefer to do a western.”

Arlo: We didn’t do any promotional tours in the US, as they were un-needed. But when I was asked to do a promotional tour of Europe I jumped on it. I wanted to go to Europe. I had offers for more acting roles, but mostly on TV shows that were popular at the time. Hawaii 5-O, etc. But in those days everyone who had long hair was cast as a drug-addled thief or a murderer. So I kindly declined those invitations.

Q: In any case, you did accept a number of television acting assignments in the 1990s. Our readers might recall your reoccurring role as the graying-hippie Alan Moon on ABC’s Byrds of Paradise. My personal favorite of your television work was your role as a 1960s folk-singing, Weather Underground-style fugitive on the Lorenzo Lamas series Renegade. How did those opportunities come about?

Arlo: I don’t remember exactly. But my booking agents, David Helfant and later Paul Smith, made those roles possible. Those offers came through their offices. I wasn’t looking for acting jobs.

Q: Since you are a musician first and foremost, I’d like to ask you a few questions about the soundtrack accompanying the Alice’s Restaurant film. Prior to his work on Alice’s Restaurant, Gary Sherman was the arranger and conductor for John Barry’s soundtrack for Midnight Cowboy. On Alice’s Restaurant, Sherman is billed as “Musical Supervisor,” credited as composer and arranger of the film’s “Additional music.” What exactly was Sherman’s contribution? Did you work closely with him on the arrangements?

Arlo: Gary Sherman wasn’t very familiar with the kinds of instruments I wanted to be used as a sound track. But he was very knowledgeable with regards as to how music supported a film. We worked very closely together trying to integrate our different skills.

Q: Fred Hellerman, the producer of your first two albums for Reprise - is credited on screen as the film’s “Musical Director.” What exactly was Hellerman’s role in creating the soundtrack?

Arlo: Fred had some knowledge of the kinds of musical instrumentation - and songs - I was into at the time. He may have worked with Gary more than I was aware of, but I think the credit was more of an honorific title.

Q: In Rising Son: The Life and Music of Arlo Guthrie, you recall your enthusiasm of having partnered with John Pilla on the soundtrack sessions. Pilla, of course, would soon become the “Spiritual Advisor,” producer and/or co-producer of all of your albums from Running Down the Road (1969) through Someday (1986). What was it about this earlier collaboration that made you so trusting of John as someone musically simpatico?

Arlo: John and I loved the traditional songs and instruments that became the underlying sound track for the film. For example, we made extensive use of the autoharp which had not been used before (or since) in Hollywood movies.

Q: Any particular fond (or perhaps not-so-fond) memories of working on the Alice’s Restaurant soundtrack sessions with Pilla and Sherman?

Arlo: Arguing about music became the hallmark of my collaboration with John Pilla. He was very traditional in his assessment of what was good while I was a little too experimental. Gary was good at determining what worked. So between us we arrived at a consensus.

Q: The Old Trinity Church is central to Arthur Penn’s imagining of the Alice’s Restaurant film. What role did Ray and Alice’s deconsecrated church-home play in your life?

Arlo: I always felt very much at home at the church. Long before we began working on the film, I had stayed there often. It wasn’t very long after Thanksgiving 1965 that I was to spend more time traveling around and less time at the church. Using the church as a central location was fabulous. 

Cinema Retro has received the following press release from Kino Lorber. If you're politically correct, then stop reading now!: 

 

Sorry to report that we have just sold the last issue of our "Dr. No" special edition. Thanks to all who made it such a success.  

Cinema Retro has received the following press release:

Perhaps even God can't save the Queen in Golden Harvest's A Queen's Ransom (also known as International Assassin), an explosive action-thriller starring George Lazenby (The Man from Hong Kong), Angela Mao (Lady Whirlwind) and the legendary Jimmy Wang Yu (The One-Armed Swordsman).

As Queen Elizabeth II arrives in Hong Kong for a state visit, a band of skilled mercenaries plan her assassination. Contracted by an Irish Republican (Lazenby), the international group of hired killers includes a Japanese explosives expert (Chang Pei-shan), a Thai boxer (Bolo Yeung), a Filipino sniper (Peter Chan Lung) and a veteran of the National Liberation Front of South Vietnam (Wang Yu). As the conspirators move to carry out their plot, two police officials (Ko Chun-Hsiung and Charles Heung) work with a young socialite (Tanny Tien Ni) in a race against time to save the Monarch's head - while also trying to manage a crisis that has brought a huge number of refugees to Hong Kong, including a young Cambodian princess (Mao).

Written and directed by Ting Shan-hsi (Rebel Boxer), A Queen's Ransom was Golden Harvest's attempt to capitalize on the popular success of the political thriller in the wake of The Day of the Jackal. Eureka Classics is proud to present the film for the first time ever on Blu-ray from a brand new 2K restoration.

BONUS FEATURES:

· 1080p HD presentation on Blu-ray of the original Hong Kong theatrical cut from a brand new 2K restoration
· 1080p HD presentation on Blu-ray of the original English language export cut from a brand new 2K restoration
· Original Mandarin and optional classic English dub (Hong Kong theatrical cut)
· Classic English dub (Export version)
· Optional English subtitles, newly translated for this release
· Brand new audio commentary on the Hong Kong theatrical version by Asian film expert Frank Djeng (NY Asian Film Festival)
· Brand new audio commentary on the export version by action cinema experts Mike Leeder and Arne Venema
· Brand new documentary featurette by martial artist and actor Michael Worth
· Reversible sleeve featuring original poster artwork
· Trailers

Click here to pre-order from Amazon

Cinema Retro has received the following press release:

Director Sergio Leone’s monumental Western classic ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST celebrates its 55^th anniversary this year and to mark the occasion Paramount Home Entertainment will release the fully restored film for the first time on 4K Ultra HD^™ May 14, 2024, as the latest addition to the studio’s Paramount Presents line.

One of the most iconic and influential movies ever made, ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST has been restored from the original 35mm Techniscope camera negative by Paramount’s archive team, L'Immagine Ritrovata and The Film Foundation. This restoration honors the 2007 Film Foundation photochemical restoration overseen by legendary director Martin Scorsese by matching its build and color palette.  The result is the definitive home release of the film, which features the 165-minute extended cut restored to its glory. 

A must-own for every cinephile’s collection, ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST will be presented in a Limited-Edition two-disc 4K Ultra HD/Blu-ray^™ set that includes both new and legacy bonus content, as well as access to a Digital copy of the film.  The film is presented in Dolby Vision^™* and HDR-10, along with English 5.1 DTS-HD Master Audio and English Restored Mono Dolby Digital for an exceptional home viewing experience.

Bonus content presented on the Blu-ray Disc^™ is detailed below:

· Commentary by the Hosts of the Spaghetti Western Podcast –NEW!

· A Look Back with Leonard Maltin—NEW!

· Commentary with contributions from directors John Carpenter, John Milius & Alex Cox, film historians Sir Christopher Frayling & Dr. Sheldon Hall, and cast and crew 

· An Opera of Violence                                            

· The Wages of Sin        

· Something To Do With Death

· Railroad: Revolutionising the West

· Locations Then & Now (Gallery) 

· Production Gallery 

· Theatrical Trailer   

Widely considered to be one of the greatest Westerns—and one of the greatest films—ever made, ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST was selected for preservation by the Library of Congress in the U.S. National Film Registry in 2009.  The film stars Claudia Cardinale, Henry Fonda, Jason Robards, and Charles Bronson.

Synopsis

Set in the dying days of the Old West, a struggle to control water in a dusty desert town embroils three hard-bitten gunmen in an epic clash of greed, honor, and revenge.   

ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST will also be available on 4K Ultra HD Digital on May 14.

This is a limited edition. Click here to pre-order now from Amazon.

Cinema Retro columnist Brian Hannan takes a sentimental journey back to 1967 to review "B" movie producer Sam Katzman's teenage exploitation film, "Riot on the Sunset Strip".  Never shy about using hyperbole, Katzman's trailer for the film immodestly calls it "The most shocking film of our generation!" Click here to read on Brian's addictive blog The Magnificent 60s.  

By Lee Pfeiffer

The late, legendary New York City sports columnist Jimmy Cannon was known to quip, "Nobody asked me, but..." and then provide his thoughts about whatever was on his mind. In that spirit, nobody asked me but I'll weigh in on the 96th Annual Academy Awards broadcast from last evening. Reviewing the Oscar ceremonies is like shooting fish in a barrel in that there are always aspects of a production of this size that will inevitably be justly criticized. However, no matter how in vogue it is to bash the Oscars, regular readers of Cinema Retro know that I've tried to maintain objectivity. Here are my random observations:

• Host Jimmy Kimmel did a decent job, as he had in the past. The Academy long ago abandoned ensuring that the host of the ceremonies has a background in the film industry. That went out the window when long-time host Bob Hope was replaced by Johnny Carson, whose brilliant timing resulted in higher ratings. Carson had the gig for quite some time and a variety of hosts followed, with Billy Crystal being the most popular. Kimmel is probably not well known in certain areas of the globe but his late night chat show is very popular in the U.S. That makes for both good and bad news. The good is that Kimmel is quick-witted and can improvise cleverly. The bad news is that he keeps shoehorning comedy bits into the broadcast that would be suitable for his TV show but still seem out of place on the Oscar presentations. There were mercifully fewer of these transgressions this year and the same can be said with the atrocious "spontaneous" banter between presenters, which was kept to a minimum.  
• I confess that I never watch the red carpet pre-show simply because of the vacuous banter ("Who are you wearing tonight?") but in general, outrageous attention-getting outfits were not on display. The ladies all looked very glamorous and most of the male stars were nattily attired in traditional black tuxes, although a number of them chose to wear open collar shirts and no ties. I guess that was to show non-conformity but some of them looked like the guys I used to see in the late 1970s queueing outside of Studio 54. (Full disclosure: I'm not a slave to fashion myself and as I write this, I am sporting a T shirt with an image of Shemp Howard imprinted on it.)
• The event had its share of big names in attendance but for many years it has been noted that some of the diminishing ranks of living legends rarely attend the ceremonies unless they are nominated. Yes, we had Steven Spielberg there to present the Best Director award and Arnold Schwarzenegger was reunited with his "twin", Danny DeVito, for some amusing moments. Al Pacino attended to announce the Best Picture award but he did so in a cursory and confusing manner that undercut the impact of his appearance. There were no signs of the likes of Meryl Streep, Anthony Hopkins, Tom Hanks, Barbra Streisand, Harrison Ford or Denzel Washington. Robert De Niro and Jodie Foster were in attendance, as was Martin Scorsese, as they were all up for awards, though none won. It was astutely pointed out that De Niro and Foster had been in the auditorium before on the same night back in 1977 when they were both nominated for  Scorsese's "Taxi Driver". Regarding Scorsese's "Killers of the Flower Moon", his acclaimed film was shut out of any wins, the momentum having switched to "Oppenheimer". Similarly, last year's most popular movie, "Barbie", only won for Best Song. I must admit that while I thought the film's concept and execution were clever, I was not swept up by enthusiasm for the film. But then again, I doubt that men in the late late sixties were the demographic target for the marketing campaign. 
• It was an innovative idea to have previous winners introduce the nominated actors in their respective categories. Another nice touch was the homage paid to union members who work behind the scenes on film productions. We also learned that there were finally be Oscar recognition for casting directors, though the process might be a challenge in terms of deciding who exactly was the responsible party for casting certain actors, given that producers and studio executives have a say in the process. There was also a good video segment that paid tribute to the importance of stunt people throughout movie history. Acceptance speeches were fine, and the pace was brisk. The show had started earlier this year and, amazingly, ended up finishing on time. 

• The  "In Memoriam" segment was the worst ever. This ritual and the controversies about it had inspired a major Washington Post article that ran a couple of days before the ceremonies. I gave up trying to figure out all the notable people were not mentioned and the staging was awful. The cameras concentrated on the elaborate settings and musicians, with photos of the dearly departed shown on a screen in the background. Most of the images  were pretty pretty small even on today's giant-sized TVs and people who were not instantly recognizable had their credits line too tiny to read. Why can't the Academy get this right? TCM certainly does with its annual in memoriam video. They ought to just buy the rights to that.
• The songs were all pleasant enough, but none of them particularly memorable. 
• A highlight of Oscar ceremonies used to be the presentation of honorary Oscars to legendary figures in the industry. The Academy decided with was all too superfluous and years ago relegated the honorees to brief film clips from a separate ceremony. This year, even that cursory effort was no longer included. Instead, we were told to scan a code on the TV screen in order to watch these honorees receive their Oscars. What a wasted opportunity. Mel Brooks was among those honored and the mind reels at how wonderful it would have been to see him receive the award on live TV. As a public service, we are presenting his speech below. 

• Politics were present, as usual, but kept somewhat restrained. There were references to the Israel/Gaza crisis and a moving and heartfelt speech by Ukrainian director Mstyslav Chernov in which he pleaded that peace might finally come to his beleaguered country. It earned a standing ovation, but unfortunately these people can't move the aid package through Congress. At the end of the show, Jimmy Kimmel read a social media posting by Donald Trump in which he eviscerated the host's performance on the show. Kimmel's reply may have been witty but if he really wanted to one-up the former president, he wouldn't have mentioned him at all. It would be nice if politics didn't play a part in these ceremonies, but that hasn't been the case in decades and with political tensions higher than they have been in the U.S. since the late 1960s, it's doubtful the Oscars will ever again be a telecast that brings people together in a common love of movies. 
• It was nice to see a Godzilla movie get Oscar recognition and I thought I could hear the cheering in Tokyo in my living room.

In my opinion, this was one of the better Oscar telecasts of recent years, even without Will Smith on hand to provide some spontaneous action. 

Here's a blog devoted entirely to director William Friedkin's 1977 masterpiece "Sorcerer". The film bombed with critics and the public when first released but has acquired an enthusiastic following over the decades. Friedkin told Cinema Retro that it was his favorite among all of his films. (See issue #29 for an exclusive interview with Friedkin about the film.) The web site showcases a really cool "Sorcerer" T shirt. 

Retro movie historian Mike Malloy presents some vintage interviews in which Henry Silva and Fred Willilamson share their memories of working with Lee Van Cleef.

Edited by Stephen Jones

Illustrated by Randy Broecker

Published by Drugstore Indian Press (imprint of PS Publishing)

May 2023

512 pages

Paperback

ISBN: 9781786368997

RRP: £15.99

Review by Adrian Smith

If, like me, you love old movies, the chances are high that a love for the thrilling pulp magazines of the 1950s can’t be far behind. Robert Silverberg, now an award-winning science fiction author, was one of the most prolific writers (allegedly averaging around 1 million words a year) for dozens of magazines throughout that decade including Super-Science Fiction, Monster Parade, Fantastic and Monsters and Things, amongst many more. Capable of seemingly churning out stories in any genre he turned his hand to (including pornography when required), these short tales were designed to be read once and then forgotten once the next issue came along. Of course, what was once disposable is now highly sought-after and original copies of many of these short-lived magazines are out of reach to us mere mortals. Thankfully the almost equally prolific writer and editor Stephen Jones has compiled a representative sample of Silverberg’s horror and sci-fi stories published between 1957 and 1959 for this excellent new collection published by Drugstore Indian Press, accompanied by suitably retro illustrations from American artist Randy Broeker.

Most of the stories are just a few pages long, so no time is wasted before the thrills and chills set in. From premature burials, mad doctors, demons, werewolves, vampires and ghouls to aliens, global conspiracies, sinister cults and outer space adventures, the stories pack a pulp punch and are all very enjoyable, especially the ones with twist endings that would not be out of place in an episode of The Twilight Zone. With titles including ‘Secrets of the Torture Cult,’ ‘Beasts of Nightmare Horror’ and ‘Vampires from Outer Space’ (a precursor to Colin Wilson’s The Space Vampires perhaps?), Silverberg's imagination was extraordinary, producing a continual stream of stories, often published under pseudonyms so that it didn’t look like he’d written the entire magazine. In his introduction to this collection (he’s still with us, at the ripe old age of 89!), he discusses his early career and his need to keep the [were]wolf from the door by writing anything he could get paid for, and it was clearly good preparation for the highly-respected novels which would earn him fame later on.

Given the sheer number of short stories Silverberg produced, one can only hope that another collection from Drugstore Indian Press is on its way. These are really fun, pulpy stories that remind us of all of another era; when guys called Skip drove hot rods, when Big Jack hosted late-night talk shows about the occult on stations like WYXD, and when teenage librarians like Marty could accidentally raise the old gods using a stolen copy of the Necronomicon. Robert Silverberg’s Monsters and Things belongs on the shelf of any discerning 1950s nostalgia junkie.

Robert Silverberg’s Monsters and Things can be ordered from Amazon UK here: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Monster-Things-Paperback-Robert-Sliverberg/dp/1786368994

Click here to order from Amazon USA

UPDATE: WE ANNOUNCED THAT ISSUE #56 HAS SOLD OUT BUT WE FOUND A SMALL NUMBER OF REMAINING COPIES IN OUR UK OFFICE. 

WORLDWIDE: CINEMA RETRO ISSUE #56

WORLDWIDE: CINEMA RETRO ISSUE #56 $30.00 USD

Cinema Retro has received the following press release:  

Legendary director Don Siegel (Dirty Harry) directs the iconic John Wayne as an ageing gunfighter dying of cancer in his final screen appearance, a superb adaptation of Glendon Swarthout's classic western novel, The Shootist.

John Bernard Books is the stuff of legend, a renowned 'shootist' whose reputation looms large. But it's 1901, and like the old west, John is dying and a reputation like his draws trouble like an outhouse draws flies. As word spreads that the famous gunfighter is on his last legs, the vultures begin to gather; old enemies, the marshal, newspaper men, an undertaker, all eager to see him dead. Other men might die quietly in bed or take their own lives, but J. B. Books will choose his executioner and face down death with a pistol in each hand.

With an outstanding cast that features not only Wayne, but James Stewart, Lauren Bacall, Ron Howard, Scatman Crothers and John Carradine, The Shootist is an elegiac ode to a monumental screen presence and to the Western genre itself.

· New 2K remaster by Arrow Films from the original 35mm camera negative

· High Definition Blu-ray (1080p) presentation

· Original lossless mono audio

· Optional English Subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing

· Brand new audio commentary by filmmaker and critic Howard S. Berger

· The Last Day, a new visual essay by film critic David Cairns

· A Man-Making Moment, a new interview with Western author C. Courtney Joyner

· Laments of the West, a new appreciation of Elmer Bernstein’s score by film historian and composer Neil Brand

· Contemplating John Wayne: The Death of a Cowboy, a new visual essay by filmmaker and critic Scout Tafoya

· The Shootist: The Legend Lives On, archival featurette

· Theatrical trailer

· Image gallery

· Reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Juan Esteban Rodríguez

· Double-sided fold-out poster featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Juan Esteban Rodríguez

· Six postcard-sized lobby card reproductions

· Illustrated collector’s booklet featuring new writing by film critic Philip Kemp

This Blu-ray will be released on March 12. Click here to order from Amazon.

By Adrian Smith

One of the UK’s most beloved film franchises has been somewhat neglected of late. Despite decades of television reruns, since the DVD boxset release over a decade ago there has been no sign of any sort of upgrade of the ‘Carry On ‘films, which, if there were any justice, would have been raised to Criterion levels by now. Remarkably this is still the case in the UK, so thankfully Australian company Via Vision Entertainment have taken a firm grip of the baton and begun releasing the ‘Carry On’ films in series order, four at a time. The first eight films in the series were mostly shot in black and white and based around everyday life, such as military service, the healthcare system, schools, the police, cruise holidays, and the beginnings of second-wave feminism (Carry On Cabby (1963), if you’re wondering). But then Peter Rogers, the producer and brains behind the series, had the fabulous idea to begin making period dramas and spoofs of current hits. Carry On Jack (1964), about pirates, was the first of these, and with that move, in my opinion, the ‘Carry On’ films really hit their creative and comedic peak.

This means that ‘Carry On... Collection 3’ contains arguably the four best films in the entire franchise (although I know some fans would beg to differ): Carry On Spying (1964), Carry On Cleo (1964), Carry On Cowboy (1965) and Carry On Screaming (1966).

Carry On Spying (1964), the last one shot in black-and-white and the first to directly spoof genre conventions, has perhaps been forgotten in favour of the more smutty ‘Carry On’ films that followed later. Starring regulars Bernard Cribbins, Kenneth Williams, Charles Hawtrey, and introducing newcomer Barbara Windsor as Daphne Honeybutt, a name even Ian Fleming would have been proud of. Far from being the giggling saucepot she would later be known for, Windsor’s character here is brave, intelligent and forthright, more than once saving the mission and her hopeless compatriots. Hot on the heels of From Russia with Love (1963), the film is a hilarious and almost spot-on spoof of the budding James Bond franchise (Cubby Broccoli objected to one character being called Agent 009½ so they were reluctantly renamed 000), coming before the flood of Eurospy films that would take all sorts of liberties with Bond a couple of years later. Shot at Pinewood Studios, already the home of Bond, it is unsurprising that the sets here are very close to Ken Adam’s designs, especially the secret underground headquarters of STENCH, led by the evil Doctor Crow, and were probably built and lit by many of the same technicians. The cast, with Kenneth Wiliams taking a rare lead role, are a joy. Williams, who would often be cast as pompous, arrogant authority types in later films, plays here his idiotic character made famous in Hancock’s Half Hour, complete with his catchphrase “Stop messing about!” The comedy is hilarious, and as a Bond spoof it works very well as a standalone film for those who may be unfamiliar with the charms of the ‘Carry On’ franchise. Naturally, given that it is now sixty years old, some of the humour is a little painful, reflecting some of the post-colonial attitudes of the time. But the odds are that if you are Cinema Retro regular, you can probably handle it.

Carry On Cleo is probably the franchise’s most lavish and high budget production, thanks to the genius decision of Peter Rogers to move in on the abandoned Cleopatra sets left behind at Pinewood when the disastrous Elizabeth Taylor production was shipped off to Cinecittà in Rome to start again. With full access to sets, props and costumes, Carry On Cleo looks a million dollars, and is also a million times more entertaining than Joseph L. Mankiewicz’s Cleopatra. The cast are fabulous, with Kenneth Williams in full arrogant mode as Caesar, Sid James as the lecherous Mark Anthony, Jim Dale as an escaped English slave, but most importantly with Amanda Barrie, who had an important role in Carry On Cabby, as the beautiful and mesmerising Cleopatra. Whether in costumes originally created for Liz Taylor, or bathing naked in ass's milk, she's simply stunning. It has always been my favourite ‘Carry On’ film, packed with sight gags, brilliant nods to the original film (20^th Century Fox were particularly furious at the original Carry On Cleo poster design which mercilessly spoofed theirs) and wonderful sets and matte paintings. This was the heyday of Pinewood Studios, and the skill and expertise on show here sets it apart from the later, cheaper ‘Carry On ‘films shot mainly in muddy fields.

Carry On Cowboy arrived just as the Spaghetti Westerns were getting started in Italy but owes more to the prevalence of American western films and TV shows (Bonanza, Gunsmoke, etc.), and is another clear spoof in the Carry On Spying mode. Genre conventions are milked for all their comic potential, and the cast are uniformly excellent, from Jim Dale’s accidental sheriff, Sid James as the villainous Rumpo Kid, Charles Hawtrey as the whisky-addled Big Chief Heap, Joan Sims as a prostitute with a heart of gold, Kenneth Williams as a cowardly mayor and, in a reference to actual history, Angela Douglas as the first-rate shot Annie Oakley. This is great fun, and not far removed from what Mel Brooks would do less than ten years later, but without the fourth wall breaking.

The last film in the set is possibly the most well known outside of the UK – Carry On Screaming. This time they had Hammer Films firmly in their sights, with references to Frankenstein, Jekyll and Hyde, spooky mansions and the sexiest of sexy vamps, all mixed together with plenty of gags and a plot which borrows heavily from House of Wax (1953), meaning Vincent Price gets a bit of a nod as well. In the lead role as Police Sargeant Bung is Harry H. Corbett, making his only ‘Carry On’ appearance, but he was an extremely popular comedy actor in the UK at the time thanks to his starring role in the sitcom Steptoe and Son. Kenneth Williams plays the undead Dr Watt (his name allowing for some “Who’s on first?”-type comedy confusion), alongside Jim Dale, Angela Douglas, Joan Sims, Charles Hawtrey and the stunning Fenella Fielding, who vamps for all she’s worth in a red dress so tight fitting that she was unable to sit down between takes.

Across the films are appearances from other ‘Carry On’ favourites including Bernard Bresslaw, Kenneth Connor, Peter Butterworth and a pre-Doctor Who Jon Pertwee, who in the early 1960s was probably best known for doing funny voices on radio comedy shows like The Navy Lark.

It’s wonderful to see these films restored and available in HD at last. They look fantastic and remind us of what great craftsmanship there was in British cinema in the 1960s, even at the cheaper end of the production scale. This boxset also comes with a lovely booklet which reproduces in full colour the original pressbooks for the first twelve ‘Carry On’ films. They’re fascinating to look at, although you might need a magnifying glass if you want to read some of them! Bonus features-wise, the sets are a bit light, simply including original trailers for each film and the commentary tracks which were recorded for the original DVD releases more than a decade ago. Whilst it’s great to have these, and they are very entertaining (Fenella Fielding has the kind of voice you could listen to all day), it would be great to see some of the archival documentaries and interviews that have been shown on TV over the years included too, or even commission the official ‘Carry On’ historian Robert Ross, whose new co-authored book Carry On Girls is also excellent, to produce some new documentary material.

However, we physical media collectors are spoiled these days and often expect too much! For the price, this boxset delivers what we really want, which is excellent restorations of much-loved British comedy gems. These really are the best of the series, and if you don’t agree, in the immortal words of Sid James: “Knickers!”

You can order ‘Carry On Collection 3’ direct from Via Vision here:

https://viavision.com.au/shop/carry-on-film-collection-3-limited-edition-blu-ray-booklet/

By Raymond Benson

(A previous 50^th Anniversary edition of this film was released in 2018 by Kino Lorber and was reviewed on Cinema Retro in 2020. The film has been re-issued on Blu-ray as a “Special Edition” in 2024. Much of the following review is repeated, but updated, from the earlier piece.)

The late director Norman Jewison, who passed away on January 20, 2024, was on a roll in the late 1960s. After a handful of well-received small romantic comedies, he directed The Cincinnati Kid (1965) featuring Steve McQueen as a Depression-era poker player, followed by the Oscar Best Picture-nominated The Russians are Coming, the Russians are Coming (1966), and then the brilliant In the Heat of the Night (1967), which did win the Best Picture Oscar and landed Jewison a Director nomination.

His next project became a heist picture/romance, the story of which was pitched to him by Alan R. Trustman, a lawyer with no screenwriting experience. Jewison was intrigued, so, according to the excellent interview with the director that appears as a supplement on Kino Lorber’s new Blu-ray edition of The Thomas Crown Affair, he gave Trustman a crash course in how to write a movie script. When it was completed, Jewison got the film green-lit.

When Jewison’s agent—who also represented Steve McQueen—read the screenplay, he suggested McQueen for the part. Even though the actor and director had gotten along on Cincinnati Kid, Jewison admits that he didn’t think McQueen was right for the role because the actor never wore suits. McQueen then met with the director—wearing a suit—and convinced him that he could be Thomas Crown.

The Thomas Crown Affair is a stylish, twisty-turny, clever piece of 1968 pizazz. It emphasizes the ultra-cool cosmopolitan and fancy lifestyle of the rich during the Mad Men era when it was actually happening. The flashy camerawork and then-innovative split-screen/multi-screen display of simultaneous action scenes was snappy and unique. The brilliant main title designer, the late Pablo Ferro, is credited for much of this work, and it is this visual technique that gives the movie its pulse.

Crown is a former banker in Boston, a happily wealthy playboy-sportsman who decides to pull off a complicated bank heist simply because he can. He puts together a team of individuals (including getaway driver Jack Weston) who don’t know each other or him, and the gang meets only at the time of the robbery inside the bank. Crown himself isn’t there. The heist is successful, and the mastermind gets away with $2.6 million. Detective Malone (Paul Burke) is determined to catch whoever was responsible, but the crime was too well thought out. No evidence or clues were left behind. An insurance investigator, Vicki Anderson (Faye Dunaway, in her first role post-Bonnie and Clyde), is brought in and she immediately takes control of the operation, much to Malone’s chagrin. It doesn’t take long for Crown to come under Vicki’s suspicions—so she sets out to entrap him by, well, having an affair with him.

That’s the plot in a nutshell. While much of it is seemingly improbable, the story is told with conviction and such technical prowess that it’s hard not to go along for the ride. Jewison’s handling of the heist itself and the romantic sequences between the dual eye candy, McQueen and Dunaway, is masterful. Both actors are fine in their roles; McQueen especially continues to exude the 60s cool that was his trademark.

Kino Lorber’s brand new 4K restoration looks quite good, and it comes with two audio commentaries—one by Jewison himself, and the other by film historians Lem Dobbs and the late Nick Redman. Supplements include the previously mentioned interview with an aging Jewison, who was still sharp and talkative, an interview with title designer and split-screen maestro Ferro, and a vintage on-the-set featurette from 1967 with the cast and crew. The original theatrical trailer, along with other Kino Lorber releases, complete the disk.

The Thomas Crown Affair was remade by John McTiernan in 1999 with Pierce Brosnan and Rene Russo. Was it better than the original? Maybe yes, maybe no. Only you can decide; but consider this—the 1968 version has Steve McQueen, a young Faye Dunaway, a variety of really hot and nifty sports cars, and an Oscar-winning title song, “The Windmills of Your Mind” (remember that?)! Recommended.

Please note that issue #55 of Cinema Retro has sold out. Therefore, we can no longer accept subscriptions for Season 19, as we cannot provide all three issues. Any pending orders for Season 19 will receive issues #'s 56 and 57 and a pro-rata refund for issue #55. 

“A MATTER OF MISCOMMUNICATION”

By Raymond Benson

(A previous edition of this Blu-ray title from Kino Lorber was reviewed at Cinema Retro in 2020. This review covers a new edition released in 2024, repeating much of the previous writeup but with new material.)

The late Carl Reiner received top billing in this magnificent comedy that was released in the middle of the 1960s, when relations between the United States and the Soviet Union were tentative at best. Détente was at play, but there wasn’t much trust between the two countries. Two years after Kubrick’s Cold War black comedy, Dr. Strangelove, Norman Jewison tried his hand at a picture with a similar theme, only it was one that was much lighter in tone.

Reiner shares the movie with another acting master who recently left us. Alan Arkin made his feature film debut with his portrayal of a Russian submarine political officer. He and Reiner are joined by a marvelous supporting cast of character actors who all have comedic turns. Penned by Oscar-nominated William Rose (who had written or co-written The Ladykillers and It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World, and would win the Oscar the following year for Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner), The Russians are Coming, the Russians are Coming focuses on the conflict between a group of misplaced Soviet submariners and the panicky townsfolk of a New England island off the coast of Massachusetts after the summer tourists have left. What it’s really about, though, is communication, or rather, the lack of it, and how a series of incidents that are lost in translation might lead to misunderstandings. Director Jewison delivers that message to the audience wrapped neatly in a barrel of laughs.

Reiner is Walt Whittaker, a playwright who has spent the summer on the island with his wife (Eva Marie Saint) and two children, and the family is ready to depart. His rented house on the coast happens to be near where the Russians’ submarine accidentally runs aground. The captain (Theodore Bikel) sends Lt. Rozanov (Arkin), officer Alexei Kolchin (John Phillip Law), and seven other men to go find a boat, commandeer it, and bring it back so they can tow the sub away from the island. Things begin promisingly, and then all hell breaks loose as one mishap after another foils the Russians’ scheme. Police Chief Mattocks (Brian Keith), his deputy Norman Jonas (Jonathan Winters), and, ultimately, war veteran and head of the citizens militia, Hawkins (Paul Ford), receive conflicting reports of the “invasion” and set about investigating it in their own misguided ways (although Mattocks is indeed the sensible one). Throw in a sudden romantic attraction between Alexei and the Whittaker’s babysitter, Alison (Andrea Dromm), the antics of phone operator Alice (the splendid Tessie O’Shea), and Luther, a drunk “Paul Revere” who spends the entire film trying to catch his horse (Ben Blue), and you’ve got a recipe for a comedy classic. The climax, however, is surprisingly suspenseful when the Russians and Americans finally reach a standoff at the harbor—until an unrelated crisis occurs that shakes everyone out of the mob mentality.

The straight man role was something Carl Reiner could do well; he always brought a heightened intensity to his parts that was simultaneously boisterous and believable, and yet amusing, too. Arkin, whose dialogue is 85% authentic Russian throughout the picture, immediately proved to the world what an amazing actor he is (he received an Oscar nomination for his performance and won a Golden Globe). Winters and Ford both provide much of the insane humor. O’Shea is hilarious, especially in the scene in which she and Reiner are gagged and tied together and attempt to escape. Law, a newcomer at the time, is a striking and likeable presence, and he masters the Russian language and the accented English with aplomb.

It’s all great stuff, punctuated by Johnny Mandel’s score of American patriotic music mixed with Russian folk songs. Along with Arkin’s nomination, The Russians are Coming… was also nominated for Best Picture, Best Adapted Screenplay (Rose), and Best Editing (Hal Ashby was co-editor).

Kino Lorber’s high definition restoration looks good enough, despite some washing out of color in some places, as well as blemishes and artifacts that can be seen in many of the images. This new 2024 edition has added an audio commentary by film historians Michael Schlesinger and Mark Evanier, who complement the onscreen action with informed background. The earlier supplements of an informative and entertaining “making of” featurette with an interview with Jewison and the theatrical trailer remain on the disk.

In short, The Russians are Coming, The Russians are Coming is grand fun, and it’s a fitting showcase for the late, great Carl Reiner and Alan Arkin.

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By Lee Pfeiffer

 "Number One" (released in certain countries under the title "Pro") is an off-beat vehicle for Charlon Heston, who was then at his peak of popularity. The fact that the movie under-performed at  the box-office and failed to score with critics didn't diminish Heston's status as a leading man. He would go on to star in such hits as "The Omega Man", "Skyjacked", "Soylent Green" "Earthquake", "Midway"and "Airport '75"- with cameos in the popular "The Three Musketeers" and "The Four Musketeers". The poor response to "Number One" doesn't diminish its many merits - and the fact that Heston was willing to play against type in a largely unsympathetic role. For the film, he reunited with director Tom Gries, with whom he made the acclaimed 1968 Western "Will Penny".  Curiously, both movies center on the same theme: a macho man who can't come to grips with the fact that he is aging and, therefore, his chosen way of life is threatened. In "Will Penny", Heston played the title character: a middle-aged cowboy who feels the inevitable aches and pains of trying to maintain a career that is clearly suited for younger men. Similarly, in "Number One" he plays "Cat" Catlan, a star quarterback for the New Orleans Saints football team. Catlan has seen plenty of fame and glory as the team's Golden Boy and the idol of the crowds. But now he is 40 years old and, although still in Herculean physical condition compared to most men his age, he's fallen victim to the constant brutalities he suffers on the field.

The film opens on a particularly disastrous game in which Catlan makes some serious misjudgments about plays and bungles some key passes. The result is an embarrassing loss for the team. The Saints' gruff coach Southerd (John Randolph) isn't ready to give up on Catlin but seemingly every other team member is. Catlan is subjected to some cruel jokes and he has to contend with the fact that a much younger player (Richard Elkins) is breathing down his neck, hoping to replace him as quarterback. Things aren't much better at home for Catlan. His long-suffering wife Julie (Jessica Walter) patiently endures his mysterious absences, unpredictable mood swings and volatile temper. She is a very successful fashion designer but Catlan is "old school" when it comes to the role of wives. He wants Julie to stay home and cater to his needs. In the midst of one of their frequent fights, he even stoops so low as to cruelly tease her about her inability to conceive a baby. Still, she sticks with him even when he confesses to having an affair with an attractive, self-made woman, Ann (Diana Muldaur). Faced with the fact that his career is winding down, Catlan reluctantly explores his options for his post-NFL life. They aren't very enticing. His best friend Richie (Bruce Dern), is an obnoxious former Saints player who brags about having gotten out of the game at age 34. He now runs a very successful car leasing business and lives a playboy lifestyle. He wants Catlan to work for him, a prospect that doesn't sit well with the aging quarterback. He also gets an offer from a computer company to work for them but the idea of dealing of being surrounded by machines in the confines of an office is repugnant to him. Ultimately, Catlan is inspired by his wife to go out on a high note. During one of their rare moments of domestic detente, she convinces him that he still has some good games in his future if he can shake off the funk and get his confidence back. The film's climactic game is the very definition of mixed emotions. Catlan performs well and has his mojo back but the movie's ambiguous final shot is anything but uplifting.

Tom Gries was a good director for Heston. He somehow managed to tamp down Heston's larger-than-life personality and afford him the opportunity to play everyday men. In "Number One", Heston is subject to the sorts of problems that plague most middle-aged men. He's nervous about his future. He often takes his frustrations out on the people closest to him. He tries to reassert his youth by exerting his sexual prowess through having an affair. Throughout it all, Heston admirably does not try to make Catlan into a hero. There is a level of sympathy accorded to him because of the emotional and physical stress he is under but his sheer disregard for others makes him more a villain than a hero. (He even refuses to give fans his autograph). Even worse is his sheer selfishness in how he deals with his wife's needs. He feels threatened by the success she is enjoying in her own career and therefore diminishes her achievements. Heston gives one of his finest performances, ironically, in what was one of his least-seen films.He gets able support from the woefully-underrated Jessica Walter, whose performance a couple of years later in "Play Misty For Me" should have assured her of major stardom (and an Oscar nomination). Director Gries also utilizes the talents of real-life football players, some of whom exhibit impressive acting skills. Diana Muldaur also excels as the siren who lures Catlan into her bed. There is an air of authenticity to the film, primarily because Gries shot much of it in front of packed stadiums. (Cinematographer Michael Hugo's work is especially impressive). Gries also captures the feel of New Orleans back in the day, capitalizing on the local scenery, jazz clubs and even getting the great Al Hirt to perform a number and do a bit of acting. About the only dated aspects of the film concern the off-the-field activities of the NFL players. Catlan complains that they are paid like peasants, which was probably true in 1969, but is a rather laughable notion today. Also, the NFL team is required to wear jackets and ties when traveling to or leaving the stadium, another rule that would be virtually unenforceable by contemporary standards. 

"Number One" never found its audience in 1969 but hopefully retro movie lovers appreciate its merits. Th film did have at least one critic who appreciated the movie and Heston's performance. Writing in the New York Times, critic Howard Thompson wrote: "Charlton Heston, minus a beard, a loincloth, a toga or the Red Sea, tackles a starkly unadorned role in one of the most interesting and admirable performances of his career. If Heston could have been better, we don't know how." Our sentiments exactly. 

The film is currently streaming on Screenpix with an add on subscription for Roku and Amazon Prime subscribers.

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By Lee Pfeiffer

Oscar-nominated director Norman Jewison has passed away at age 97. Born in Canada, he served in the Canadian navy in WWII. He made his mark in Hollywood in the mid-1960s. His first directorial effort, the romantic comedy "40 Pounds of Trouble" starring Tony Curtis was a hit. This led to him directing Doris Day and James Garner in "The Thrill of It All", one of the most popular movies of 1963. More hit comedies followed including "Send Me No Flowers" with Doris Day and Rock Hudson and the all-star production of "The Art of Love". Jewison got his first opportunity to direct a drama when the mercurially-tempered Sam Peckinpah was fired from "The Cincinnati Kid" starring Steve McQueen in 1965. Jewison stepped in to replace him, earning critical praise. A string of very popular and diverse films followed including the classic Cold War comedy "The Russians are Coming. The Russians are Coming", the racially-tinged crime drama "In the Heat of the Night" which won the Best Picture Oscar and the classic crime caper "The Thomas Crown Affair". Jewison was hoping to cast Sean Connery in the lead role but was persuaded by Steve McQueen to give him the part because McQueen very much wanted to prove he could play a sophisticated rogue. The film was a major hit and spawned a popular 1999 remake starring Pierce Brosnan.

Jewison's diversity as a filmmaker was illustrated by his direction of the high profile 1971 musical "Fiddler on the Roof", based on the Broadway stage production. Jewison was amused when, upon being hired, he confessed to the United Artists brass that he not Jewish, despite his surname. The irony of him directing the ultimate Jewish musical was not lost on the executives who were Jewish. They believed Jewison could be entrusted with the film and it proved to be a major hit in an era in which many other big-budget musicals had flopped. Jewison was nominated for the Best Director Oscar and would be nominated again for the 1987 smash hit comedy "Moonstruck" starring Cher, who did win an Oscar for the film. Not all of Jewison's films were successful critically and at the boxoffice. Among those that didn't meet expectations were "F.I.S.T." and the screen adaptation of "Jesus Christ, Superstar". His futuristic thriller "Rollerball" under-performed in 1975 but has developed a loyal following in the ensuing years. The political satire "And Justice for All" was well-received as was the film adaptation of the play "A Soldier's Story" but most of his other films were not especially successful critically or commercially, although his 1999 production of "The Hurricane" saw Denzel Washington nab a Best Actor nomination in the true life story of former boxer "Hurricane" Carter, who waged a long campaign to prove that he was unjustly jailed for murder. Jewison's film was a lightning rod for controversy. Carter's supporters welcomed the sympathetic portrayal of him as a victim of a racist justice system. Others accused Jewison of being naive and ignoring considerable evidence that Carter was guilty. Either way, Jewison proved he could still stir things up on the big screen. His last big screen feature film was the little-seen "The Statement" starring Michael Caine.

Norman Jewison was a consummate professional who was respected by his peers and appreciated by movie fans worldwide. He was an early contributor to Cinema Retro and we join film lovers around the globe in mourning his passing. For more, click here.

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"RETRO-ACTIVE: AN ARTICLE FROM THE CINEMA RETRO ARCHIVES"

By Doug Oswald

Released as a burn-to-order DVD from the Universal Vault Series, some may be quick to add that they should have kept "The Conqueror" in the vault. The movie is notorious for being one of the worst movies in Hollywood history. Much has been written about how terrible this movie is so I'm going to avoid jumping on that bandwagon. After all, calling this movie bad is like calling out water for being wet.

The movie is also a part of a conspiracy theory of sorts because many of the cast and crew died from cancer and some have connected those cancer deaths to the location filming in St. George Utah which was the stand-in for the Gobi Desert. St. George is downwind from where the above ground nuclear testing occurred in Nevada. Indeed, many involved with this movie did succumb to cancer including lifetime smoker John Wayne who also denied any connection between his cancer and the St. George location filming.

The CinemaScope widescreen image for "The Conqueror" looks terrific and has an appropriately grand score by Victor Young. The movie stars John Wayne and Susan Hayward and features some of the best character actors of the era including Pedro Armendariz, Agnes Morehead, Thomas Gomez, William Conrad and Lee Van Cleef. If only the movie was the western it tries so hard to be rather than a 13th century historical epic taking place in Central Asia.

Apparently, nobody was more surprised than former actor and director of "The Conqueror", actor Dick Powell, when the Duke insisted on playing the lead. When asked by reporters during production how Wayne looked as Genghis Kahn, Powell replied, "Murderous. Just murderous." I'd say murderous for the viewer too. While there's a lot of ethnicity in the cast (Native American Indians from a local reservation were hired as extras to portray the Mongolian hordes in the movie) it's hard to believe that they couldn't cast a single Asian actor in this movie.

The movie pulled in a healthy profit world-wide for RKO at the time of its initial release in 1956, but it was critically panned and is difficult to watch. "The Conqueror" was a personal favorite of the movie's eccentric producer Howard Hughes who owned RKO at the time and pulled the movie from theatrical and TV distribution. Apparently Hughes watched the movie over and over again, but it was not seen by mortal men again until 1974 after the rights reverted to Paramount. This was the final movie that Hughes personally produced and some may say it would have been better if he had destroyed the negatives and all copies of the movie.

"The Conqueror" was previously released by Universal in 2006 as part of the, "An American Icon: John Wayne 5 Movie Collection" DVD set. That release included the trailer, subtitles and chapters. This burn to order release appears to be produced from the same source material because it looks and sounds identical, but includes no extras and the movie starts up immediately after loading. "The Conqueror" is a rare turkey for the Duke, as most of his post-"Stagecoach" output is very watchable. It's a must-see for die-hard fans of the Duke and when hosting movie nights where you want guests to leave early.

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By Lee Pfeiffer

Joyce Randolph, the last remaining cast member of the classic American sitcom "The Honeymooners", has passed away at her New York City home at age 99. She is survived by her son Randy. Regardless of your age, if you grew up in America over the last seven decades, you were exposed to her work on the sitcom, which is iconic in the nation's pop culture. The show was the brainchild of Jackie Gleason who portrayed New York City bus driver Ralph Kramden, bringing to the show elements of his own humble upbringing in Brooklyn. His wife Alice was played by Audrey Meadows and his best friend, sewer worker Ed Norton, was played by Art Carney with Joyce Randolph appearing as his wife Trixie. The concept for the series began as periodic sketches on Gleason's variety show before spinning off as a weekly sitcom. Gleason only did one season despite the success of the series and the episodes became known to fans as "The Classic 39". Gleason would revive "The Honeymooners" as musical sketches in his 1960s variety series. However, he recast the roles of Alice and Trixie, which did not sit well with fans. Additionally, seeing the characters outside of their dank, tiny Brooklyn apartment and now in living color, also dissipated enjoyment of the revival.  In an era in which most female characters were portrayed as mothers who were accepting that husband was the head of the household, "The Honeymooners" went against the grain. For one, both the Kramdens and Nortons never had children, a rarity for the era. Additionally, both Alice and Trixie were not compliant housewives. They challenged their husbands, sometimes in screaming matches, and generally ended up getting their way.

Joyce was a personal friend of mine for many years. On numerous occasions I interviewed her at some of New York's legendary arts clubs including The Players and The Lambs. During these appearances, I would interview her about her memories of the series and it was always in front of a full house. She was gracious, funny and a marvelous storyteller. After her husband Richard Charles died in 1997, Joyce continued to be a fixture on Gotham's social circuit, often holding court at the famous bar at Sardi's. Joyce said that while she liked Jackie Gleason, he was difficult to work with as an actor because he only did one rehearsal before the cast had to film each episode before a live audience. She once griped to me that Gleason had a photographic memory when it came to reading the scripts but had little sympathy for his cast mates who did not. She also felt she was very underpaid compared to her co-stars. She told me that many years later, she got even with Gleason when he was marketing the "lost" episodes of "The Honeymooners", which were previously missing sketches of varying lengths from his 1950s variety show. Gleason called her and asked her to sign a release so the shows could be telecast and also marketed on video. Joyce said, "I gave Jackie a piece of my mind" and told him she had been woefully underpaid. If Gleason needed her permission this time, he would have to meet her price. The Great One backed down and relented.

One of my fondest memories was accompanying Joyce to a musical stage version of "The Honeymooners" some years ago at the Papermill Playhouse in New Jersey. She very much enjoyed being the center of attention for the press. Fans pressed to get near her and of course many of them tossed out iconic one-liners from the show. Having lived a good, long life, it's hard to say that Joyce has left us prematurely. However, New York won't be quite as much fun as it was when she was making the rounds in the city. I miss her already.

By Lee Pfeiffer

Founded by producers James H. Nicholson and Samuel Z. Arkoff, American International Pictures (A.I.P.) hit upon a formula of financing and releasing low-budget exploitation films for non-discriminating audiences (translation: the youth market). Specializing in horror films and goofy comedies, A.I.P. occasionally strayed into other genres. In 1963, the company capitalized on the always-popular WWII genre with the release of "Operation Bikini". Ostensibly, the movie's title referred to the obscure atoll in the Pacific where atomic bomb tests were conducted during the Cold War era. However, in true A.I.P. style, the advertising campaign was designed to imply that the title might also refer to the fact that the bikini bathing suit was popularized here by a French designer who conducted a photo shoot on the atoll just days after an atomic blast. (Ignorant of the risks from radiation poison, he merrily pronounced that "Like the bomb, the bikini is small and devastating!") Still, the sexploitation angle in "Operation Bikini" was saved for late in the film. What precedes its appearance is a fairly routine combat flick made somewhat more interesting by the obvious attempts of the filmmakers to disguise the movie's very limited budget.  

Tab Hunter, one of the top heart throbs of the era, had by this point seen his popularity in decline. He nonetheless received top billing over charismatic crooner Frankie Avalon, whose career was ascending and who would find great popularity as the star of several A.I.P. beach movies over the next few years. Hunter plays Lt. Morgan Hayes, the leader of a secret commando team that has been ordered to rendezvous with a U.S. submarine that has been ordered to transport them on a secret mission. The team is supposed to locate and destroy the wreckage of an American sub that was recently sunk off the coast of Bikini by the Japanese. Seems the wreckage contains a prototype of a top secret sonar device that the Allies can't afford to fall into enemy hands. From minute one, Hayes' small group of rough house land-lubbers rubs the Captain of the submarine, Emmett Carey (Scott Brady) and his crew the wrong way. Hayes's men resent being cooped up in a floating "tin can" and the naval crew resents the presence of these brash soldiers who seem to be perpetually eager to provoke a fight. Carey gives Hayes a dressing down about keeping the tension levels low and the two men ultimately gain mutual respect for one another. Upon arriving at Bikini, Hayes and his men must sneak ashore and traverse the dense jungle in search of the area where the sunken submarine is located. They are guided by local partisans who conveniently include a stunning beauty named Reiko, played by Eva Six, a recent winner of the "Miss Golden Globes" honor. (I will refrain from making any tasteless jokes.) Reiko takes a shine to Hayes and gets his mind temporarily off his troubles by seducing him. When Hayes and his men finally arrive at their destination, they are dismayed to see a virtual fleet of Japanese vessels guarding the coast line where the sub is already being salvaged by the enemy. Hayes realizes that they are now probably on a suicide mission. Nevertheless, they persevere courageously, dodging and sometimes engaging Japanese patrols before sending in Hayes and some fellow scuba divers to attach time bombs to the hull of the sunken sub. (The sequence is rather absurd because the team accomplishes this in the dead of night despite not being able to employ any lighting equipment whatsoever.) Detected by the Japanese, Hayes and his heroes take some casualties in their desperate attempt to make it back to Capt. Carey's submarine.

"Operation Bikini" is a "by the numbers" WWII yarn that isn't noticeably better or worse than many of the other "B" movies of this genre that were released in the 1960s. Director Anthony Carras, who edited some of the better Poe adaptations for producer Roger Corman, employs grainy stock footage of real combat sequences to get around his limited budget. However, there are a couple of sequences that are unintentionally amusing in which we find the crew of the submarine standing on deck, supposedly in the middle of the ocean. The scenes are clearly filmed on a sound stage because there is absolutely no movement of the vessel at all. Apparently the budget didn't even allow for a few crew members to gently "rock" the vessel. Additionally, the backdrop consists of either a white or black wall with nary a hint of nature evident. Hunter looks sullen and dreary throughout the entire proceedings, even when stripping off his shirt for the love scene. The supporting cast includes some offspring of Hollywood legends: Jody McCrea (son of Joel) and Gary Crosby (son of "Der Bingle").  Michael Dante is the executive officer of the sub and in a rather offbeat bit of casting, Jim Backus is seen in a dramatic role as a member of the demolition team. Hunter's fellow teen idol  Frankie Avalon is cast in his usual role as wise-cracking street guy. In the film's most bizarre sequences, he drools over a photo of the prim and proper girl he left behind. while singing an awful love song about trying not to be tempted by the "bad girls" he meets while on duty away from home. Although the film is in black and white, these fantasy sequences are shot in color. The "good girl" is shown lovingly waiting for him while dressed like somebody's great grandmother and is presented in B&W. Meanwhile, the leggy temptress is seen in full color,  attired in a slinky cocktail dress and gyrating her hips suggestively. The virginal good girl gets the short end of the stick. These weird sequences are an amusing example of how A.I.P. used an "everything but the kitchen" sink formula to appeal to young audiences, regardless of the lack of logic. The formula is employed in the film's equally bizarre epilogue which extols the fact that the bikini bathing suit is closely associated with Bikini. We observe a several minute sequence (also shot in color) in which two young women lounge around the beach in skimpy swim attire for no apparent reason than to stimulate the already raging hormones of the movie's intended male teenage audience.

(The film is currently available for streaming through ScreenPix, which is available to Amazon Prime subscribers for an additional fee every month.) 

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By Hank Reineke

I much prefer writing about obscure or little-known items of celluloid than attempt to tackle a bona fide film classic as The Quatermass Xperiment.  The best chroniclers and historians of science-fiction and horror film history have proven to be a distinguished, thoroughly immersive, and informed band of researchers, commentators and authors.  Which, sadly, leaves also-rans such as myself little insight to add to what discourse exists already.  But in the rare event that someone who reads Cinema Retro is unfamiliar with Val Guest’s classic of British sci-fi, I’ll press on and attempt at a simple synopsis of The Quatermass Xperiment:

The nose end of an intact rocket ship crash lands in an open misty field deep in the English countryside.  Within minutes, police, fire vehicles, ambulances and curious locals gather to view the wreckage.  Among those taking command at the scene is the irascible and cocksure Professor Quatermass, barking orders that override even those of the assemblage of police and military officials.  Quatermass, we soon learn, was the primary architect of this wrecked three-crew space mission.  We also learn via the protest of an upset official from the Ministry of Defence, that Quatermass’s interstellar space voyage was unsanctioned by the British government.

Only one of the three astronauts originally launched, Victor Carroon, has seemingly survived this orbital freefall. Truth be told, it’s hard for scientists to determine conclusively.  Two of the astronaut’s spacesuits are still aboard the craft, but now curiously empty of their occupants.  Carroon is unable to explain what went on prior to the spacecraft’s unceremonious crash to earth.  Carroon has returned in a near-catatonic state.  He’s unable to speak… save for a desperate, mumbled plea asking his rescuers to “Help Me.”  Unfortunately for all involved, they are mostly unable to.

To make matters more peculiar, upon close examination it becomes unclear to his caregivers if Carroon actually is Carroon.  The fingerprints taken upon his return do not match that of the pre-flight astronaut.  One doctor suggests the prints examined are not “even human” in form.  It’s determined that whomever this “shell of a man” is, he’s being slowly transformed into something decidedly non-human.   

As one might expect, this faux-Carroon manages to escape from his hospital quarantine.  He roams the streets and riverbanks of London and surrounding areas, searching for food and scaring locals in the process.  Quatermass, the police, and the military are in pursuit, helpfully assisted by Carroon’s continual shedding of human-form to something more gelatinous.  As the ill-fated astronaut continues to devolve, he conveniently leaves behind a luminous path of radioactive waste in his wake for his pursuers to follow in trail.  The film climaxes with a climactic showdown between earthlings and alien in the hallowed chamber of Winchester Cathedral.     

The Hollywood Reporter was among the first of the trade papers in the U.S. to confirm that production of The Quatermass Xperiment was to commence in October of 1954.  (Technically speaking, the earliest reports first offered details under the film’s working title of Shock!) It was announced that Val Guest would direct the extravaganza, a film soon to be trumpeted as “The Most Fantastic Story Ever Told!” Hammer Films’ Michael Carreras and Anthony Hinds would produce, with the picture’s U.K. distribution to be handled by London’s Exclusive Films.  The screenplay of Shock! – based on the characters created by writer Nigel Keane for the Quatermass BBC television series of 1953 - was reported as a collaboration of veteran screenwriter Richard Landau and Guest.

Bringing Quatermass to the big screen seemed a sure bet.  The earlier BBC series had proven wildly popular, millions of UK viewers tuning into their parlor sets to watch the extra-terrestrial exploits of the Professor.  In a 1973 interview with Chris Knight (later published in the June 2018 issue of Richard Klemensen’s seminal Little Shoppe of Horrors magazine) Rudolph Cartier, the producer-director of the original BBC television series gave the lion share of credit to Kneale’s brilliantly conceived scenarios.   

Cartier thought Kneale’s cliffhanger scripting was the deciding factor in the success of the television series.  The producer was equally impressed by Kneale’s ability to write the natural dialogue of “real people,” which exhibited an unerring “ability to play on the underlying fears of the human soul.”  In that very same issue of LSOH, director John Carpenter – no slouch in creating totemic horror and sci-fi films himself – equally acknowledged Guest’s big screen version of The Quatermass Xperiment as “horrifyingly groundbreaking.” Carpenter thought the film version offered well-executed and thoughtful explorations of “the fear of the unknown.”   

On one of the supplements included on this release from Kino Lorber, Carpenter on Quatermass: On Camera Interview with Legendary Director John Carpenter,” the auteur recalls catching The Quatermass Xperiment (under its U.S. release title of The Creeping Unknown) as a youngster in Kentucky.  He thought the film both “profound” and mind-blowing, arriving timely on the heels of a world post-atom bomb and on the cusp of American and Soviet interest in space exploration.  Carpenter was of the opinion The Quatermass Xperiment was the “first powerful gift” of Hammer Films’ fright factory.    

Perhaps. But in 1955 the original creators of the television series didn’t share that rosy view.  Cartier acknowledged that Kneale was particularly unhappy with Hammer’s adaptation of his work.  So much so that the scenarist even cautioned Cartier “not to go” to the cinema to visit the film upon release. Kneale might have been – perhaps understandably - over-protective of his personal vision, but he was not alone in his assessment.  Upon the film’s release, one London-based critic mused while the first Hammer Quatermass film certainly offered cinemagoers the “full horror comic treatment,” he thought “Some of the TV Tension” of the original BBC series was “lost in this film’s extravagant chiller gimmicks.”   

Today only aged folks with long memories can say whether Kneale’s The Quatermass Experiment series was greater than Hammer’s The Quatermass Xperiment (with an “X”). Sadly, only two of the original six-episode summer of 1953 BBC broadcast are extant, so comparisons aren’t possible.  Oh, but about that “Experiment” versus “Xperiment…”

Guest was aware his picture would likely be given an “X” certificate designation – no child under the age of sixteen admitted into the cinema due to alleged “explicit” content.  Such branding was not unexpected given the temperature of the times.  Guest had previously submitted a sample copy of the script to a censor at the British Board of Film Classification who, upon reading, advised as such.  But Guest chose to press on regardless of losing an important audience demographic.  “Some people thought we were mad to go ahead, but I had faith in it,” he offered to Picturegoer.  One BBC feature writer suggested the prominent “X” in the film’s “Xperiment” title was purposeful, Hammer Film’s sly rebuke of the picture’s undeserved “X” classification.     

Upon the film’s release, it appeared Guest’s gambit had paid off.  London’s Picturegoer was particularly enthused with The Quatermass Xperiment, enthusing that a British studio had - at last - managed a production, “to make Hollywood’s Frankenstein’s and Dracula’s curl up in their crypts.”  That might have been so, but Guest nonetheless cautioned the film not be preemptively tagged as a run-of-the-mill “horror” movie.  Such designation brought with it expectations.  “We didn’t really set out to make that kind of film, you know,” Guest corrected.  “I’d prefer it if you call the film a ‘chiller.’”   

Picturegoer noted there were plans to release the film in U.S. markets under its provisional title of Shock!  But that re-title wouldn’t happen.  In March of 1956, Variety reported that Robert Lippert of United Artists had paid a flat fee of $125,000: he believed this “thriller-type film” held “potential value” in the U.S. market.  The brief item also noted the film’s U.S. domestic release title change would be The Creeping Unknown.  Upon its U.S. release - and following its scoring of “fancy” box-office returns for United Artists - a Variety critic acknowledged, The Creeping Unknown (“a gelatinous octopus-like mass that absorbs all plant and animal life that it touches”) was a “competently made drama, containing sufficient suspense and frightening elements.”

The film’s success in the U.S. was not assured.  As neither Nigel Kneale’s Quatermass BBC serial – nor the Professor Bernard Quatermass character – were generally on the radar of American couch-sitters, United Artists retitling The Quatermass Xperiment under the far more provocatively sinister and exploitative name of The Creeping Unknown made sense.  (On a special feature included here that compares the differences between the U.K. and U.S. cuts of the film - the latter running approximately two and-a-half minutes shorter - it’s noted that a surviving continuity script titled the film in pre-release as Monster from Outer Space).

The Creeping Unknown was paired in the U.S. as the undercard of a ballyhoo “Double Horror Show! of “Two Terrific Horror Pictures!” (of which Reginald LeBorg’s The Black Sleep (1956) would top-line).  The LeBorg film, while no venerable classic, was certainly the more marketable of the two – at least in the U.S.  The cast of The Quatermass Xperiment were peopled with faces mostly unfamiliar to U.S. moviegoers. In contrast, The Black Sleep offered an illustrious cast of familiar and beloved genre actors: Basil Rathbone, Lon Chaney Jr., Bela Lugosi, John Carradine and Tor Johnson amongst them.

United Artists certainly wasn’t about to gamble on its investment in this British undercard.  Under the title banner of The Creeping Unknown, the U.S. marketing department was tasked to play up the film’s more exploitative angles.  The art department conjured up a garish one-sheet poster featuring a crashed rocket ship and gigantic demonic creature hovering above the heads of a terrified, fleeing populace. The poster’s caption read: “You Can’t Escape It!  Nothing Can Destroy It! It’s Coming for You from Space to Wipe all Living Things from the Face of the Earth!  Can it Be Stopped?”

It was a prudent time for United Artists to release the film in the U.S. as the 1950s “Silver Age” of cinematic science-fiction in full bloom.  In 1956 alone, theater cash boxes were stuffed with receipts from such pictures as Earth vs. the Flying Saucers, Forbidden Planet, Godzilla, King of the Monsters, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, It Conquered the World, The Creature Walks Among Us, The Mole People, and World Without End – and that’s to name only a few.  Interest in sci-fi would continue to blossom and explode throughout the 1950s, with 1957 and 1958 being particularly banner years for the genre.  

According to the film’s U.S. pressbook, director Val Guest had helmed no fewer than seven motion pictures in a twelve-month span, The Creeping Unknown being the seventh.  Guest had been, all things considered, an odd choice to be asked to direct.  Guest admitted he was a mostly disinterested observer of science fiction of any sort.  So he expressed surprise when producer Anthony Hinds had approached him to helm the film.  Most of the films Guest had previously directed - and was best known for - were straight-on comedies.  Since Guest admitted honestly to having not watched the wildly popular BBC series, Hinds pressed copies of Kneale’s original tele-scripts to help familiarize him with the material.  On holiday with his wife in Tangiers, Guest – at first, reluctantly - began to read through the scripts.  He would acknowledge Kneale’s storytelling left him “pinned to his deckchair.”    

There was certainly interest that Hammer test the viability of The Quatermass Xperiment/The Creeping Unknown playing overseas.  There was one major hurdle.  Should the film employ only or primarily a British cast, the main players would be practically unknown to U.S. moviegoers.  Guest noted it was mostly at the insistence of the American distributor that an actor of some marquee standing in the U.S. be given the lead role.  So the producers brought in the American actor Brian Donlevy to play Professor Quatermass.  

Donlevy was well known to American film audiences.  The actor had worked regularly and steadily in Hollywood, more often than not in rough-and-tumble tough-guy roles: prize-fighters to cowboys to soldiers to film noir detectives.  But certainly not as an egg-head scientist.  (As a completely irrelevant aside – but a fun fact all the same - Donlevy would later wed the widow of Bela Lugosi).  The casting of Donlevy was the only major talent concession.  Most folks cast were familiar faces of past Guest productions, the director preferring to work alongside the dependable professionals of his own repertory company.  

Both Carpenter and Guest suggest that Kneale was particularly unhappy with the casting of a brash, somewhat tactless Yank as Quatermass.  Kneale’s Quatermass was, in Guest’s reading, “a very English, Professor-like character,” a model of British gentility.  Donlevy exhibited none of these qualities, but Guest welcomed bringing the actor’s tough-guy persona to the fore – even if that meant partly re-creating the character as envisioned by the dissatisfied Kneale.  Carpenter too recalled Kneale’s obvious displeasure in the Donlevy casting, but personally found the actor’s performance as suitable.  Having worked with the scenarist on two projects (an ultimately unmade remake of The Creature from the Black Lagoon and on Halloween III: Season of the Witch (1982, for which the writer’s contribution was uncredited), Carpenter reminisced that Kneale - while certainly talented - was a “handful” to work with.  

In any event, the film was a success.  By spring of 1956, Donlevy was already back in London to work on a second Quatermass film, X the Unknown (also co-written and directed by Guest).  As this follow-up would cost $140,000 to produce (a 60% increase over the more economically-budgeted The Quatermass Xperiment), Exclusive Films, the United Kingdom distributor,  entered into a partnership with United Artists – the latter agreeing to put up 75% of that cost for a 50/50 box office share.  

In some manner of speaking, the American had been upstaged in the first film.  Donlevy’s co-star Richard Wordsworth was mostly unknown to U.S. moviegoers, the actor having only recently graduated from stage to television to film acting.  Indeed, The Quatermass Xperiment would log as his first big-screen credit.  His performance as the alien-infected mute Victor Carroon received good notices: quite a feat considering his character spoke nary a line of dialogue.  In many respects, Wordsworth steals the show, delivering a frightening, tortured portrait of the empty-shell astronaut.  Guest thought Wordsworth “brilliantly” acted the part, relying solely on the conveyance of haunted facial expressions and gentle physical movements to emote.    

Cinema Retro wishes our readers worldwide the happiest new year ever!

Australian video label Imprint has released a Blu-ray boxed set dedicated to the films of Sidney Lumet. The movies included are:

• Serpico
• The Group
• The Pawnbroker
• The Deadly Affair
• The Offence
  
• Child's Play
  

(Photo: Cinema Retro Archive.)

By Lee Pfeiffer

Tom Smothers of the famed comedy duo The Smothers Brothers, has passed away at 86. Early reports indicate he was suffering from cancer. Along with his younger brother Dick, he became an icon of American comedy in the 1960s. The duo started off spoofing the blossoming folk music scene and incorporating it into their standup act, which quickly drew packed houses. In 1967, the brothers were signed by CBS for their own Sunday night show "The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour". Despite their physical appearance as short-haired, squeaky clean squares, the brothers used the clout of their successful show to emphasize political humor. It made for "must-see" TV in an era defined by the protest movements over racial injustice and the Vietnam War. CBS began to get anxious when conservative viewers complained that the political humor was going to far. Although Tom Smothers was a self-defined liberal, the brothers satirized both Republicans and Democrats. As with any incumbent President, Lyndon. B. Johnson was often the prime target, as the brothers vehemently opposed his Vietnam War policies. In one instance, the President himself called CBS to complain about how he was being portrayed. In 1967, CBS deleted a performance by Pete Seeger of his thinly-veiled anti-Vietnam War song, "Waist Deep in the Big Muddy". Tom Smothers and his brother were not intimidated and continued the barbed humor when Richard Nixon was inaugurated as President in January, 1969. The brothers showcased impersonator David Frye, whose satirical portrayal of Nixon was as amusing as it was controversial, even though Frye had also satirized President Johnson in an equally barbed manner. By then, CBS had enough of the controversy and canceled the show that April. Officially, the reason was over a dispute about a preview tape of the next show that the network said Tom had not delivered, an accusation he always denied. The brothers sued the network and won the case. Although they were awarded sizeable damages, the show could not be revived.

As with Ed Sullivan, whose variety show also aired on CBS on Sunday nights, the brothers used their image as squares for comedic effect. But, also like Sullivan, they proved to be the hippest guys around when it came to showcasing emerging talents in the rock and soul music world. It was an era in which teenagers would actually stay home to watch variety shows if it gave them a chance to see their favorite groups perform. The brothers also had a talent for finding other young talent. Their staff of writers included newcomers Steve Martin, Rob Reiner and Mason Williams, whose instrumental song "Classical Gas" would become a late-1960s hit. Even Carl Gottlieb, who went on to write the screenplay for "Jaws", started as a writer on the show.  They also showcased promising comedy acts such as George Carlin and Pat Paulsen, whose quixotic tongue-in-cheek run for President in the 1968 election made him a pop culture phenomenon at the time.

For more, click here. For in-depth coverage of Smothers' life and career, click here for Washington Post coverage. (May require subscription.)

Regular readers know that every Christmas, Cinema Retro pays homage to Santa Claus Conquers the Martians, the Citizen Kane of all movies relating to Santa Claus battling creatures from other planets. The 1964 $20,000 wonder has been a cinematic legend among bad movie lovers. We're happy to present the entire film for your (guilty) viewing pleasure.

Wishing our readers worldwide a happy and healthy holiday season!

Cinema Retro has received the following press release from Shout! Factory.

For the honor of the crown and the destiny of a country, four heroes must reassemble for one last epic battle in the cult film classic, THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK. Directed by Randall Wallace (We Were Soldiers, Pearl Harbor), Leonardo DiCaprio (Killers of the Flower Moon) leads a phenomenal cast, including Jeremy Irons (Red Sparrow), John Malkovich (Bullet Head), Gérard Depardieu (To the Ends of the Earth), and Gabriel Byrne (Hereditary) in this thrilling tale of majesty and Musketeers. On December 26, 2023, Shout! Select will release THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK Collector’s Edition in 4K UHD™+ Blu-ray™. This must-have home entertainment release features new 4K transfer from the original negative in Dolby Vision, and special bonus content. Movie collectors and fans can now preorder THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK Collector’s Edition 4K UHD™+ Blu-ray™ at ShoutFactory.com.

Click here to order.

Movie synopsis

Louis XIII, King of France, had a son, Louis, who succeeded his father to the throne. But, known to very few, the heir had a twin brother, Philippe, hidden away after birth and forced to languish in prison, his identity unknown behind an iron mask. His brother, now grown and King Louis XIV, proved to be both corrupt and a tyrant. Louis sends Athos’ son, Raoul off to certain death in war, so that he could have his woman for himself. Athos, together with two of the other Musketeers, Porthos and Aramis, swear revenge. Only D’Artagnan remains loyal to the crown, but will he join his former compatriots to free Philippe from prison, kill the king, and put Philippe on the throne in his place?

UNITED ARTISTS Presents A RANDALL WALLACE Film LEONARDO DiCAPRIO JEREMY IRONS

JOHN MALKOVICH GÉRARD DEPARDIEU GABRIEL BYRNE “THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK”

ANNE PARILLAUD JUDITH GODRÈCHE A UNITED ARTISTS CORPORATION LTD. Production

Music by NICK GLENNIE-SMITH Costume Designer JAMES ACHESON Edited by WILLIAM HOY

Production Designed by ANTHONY PRATT Director of Photography PETER SUSCHITZKY

Based upon the novel by ALEXANDRE DUMAS Co-Producer PAUL HITCHCOCK Executive Producer ALAN LADD, JR.

Produced by RANDALL WALLACE RUSSELL SMITH Written for the Screen and Directed by RANDALL WALLACE

THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK Collector’s Edition

Bonus Features for UHD/Blu-ray

DISC ONE (4K UHD):

· NEW 4K Transfer From the Original Camera Negative

· Audio: DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1, 2.0

· In Dolby Vision (HDR-10 Compatible)

· Audio Commentary With Writer/Director Randall Wallace

DISC TWO (BLU-RAY):

· NEW 4K Transfer From The Original Camera Negative

· Audio: DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1, 2.0

· Audio Commentary with Randall Wallace

· Interview With Producer Paul Hitchcock

· Interview With Production Designer Anthony Pratt

· “Myth And The Musketeers” Featurette

· “Director’s Take” Featurette

· “Alternate Mask Prototypes” Featurette

· Original Behind-The-Scenes Featurette

· Theatrical Trailer

Cinema Retro has received the following press release:

Everybody cut, everybody cut…

Everybody cut FOOTLOOSE!

Celebrating its 40^th anniversary in 2024, the beloved classic FOOTLOOSE arrives for the first time ever on 4K Ultra HD^™ February 13, 2024 from Paramount Home Entertainment.

Originally released on February 17, 1984, FOOTLOOSE thrilled audiences with its spirited dancing, electrifying soundtrack, and inspiring story.  Kevin Bacon gives a star-making performance as a city boy whose rebellious love for music and dancing shakes up a small town. 

Directed by Herbert Ross and written by composer and writer Dean Pitchford, FOOTLOOSE was a massive success, earning $80 million at the domestic box office.  The film features an exceptional supporting cast, including Lori Singer, Dianne Wiest, John Lithgow, Sarah Jessica Parker, and Chris Penn, along with a sensational soundtrack featuring Kenny Loggins, Shalamar, Deniece Williams, Bonnie Tyler, Quiet Riot, John Mellencamp, Foreigner, and more.  Both “Footloose” and “Let’s Hear It for the Boy” were nominated for the Academy Award® for Best Music, Original Song.

Newly remastered, FOOTLOOSE will be available in a two-disc 4K Ultra HD/Blu-ray^™ set or a collectible SteelBook™ with artwork designed to look like an 80s Walkman.  Both sets include access to a digital copy of the film and the Blu-ray includes the legacy bonus content detailed below:

· Commentary by Craig Zadan and Dean Pitchford

· Commentary by Kevin Bacon      

· Let's Dance! Kevin Bacon on Footloose

· From Bomont to the Big Apple: An Interview with Sarah Jessica Parker

· Remembering Willard

· Kevin Bacon's Screen Test

· Kevin Bacon Costume Montage

· Footloose: A Modern Musical - Part 1

· Footloose: A Modern Musical - Part 2

· Footloose: Songs That Tell A Story

· Theatrical Trailer

Synopsis

City-boy Ren McCormick (Kevin Bacon) is new to an uptight small town where dancing has been banned. Ren quickly makes a new best friend in Willard (Chris Penn) and falls fast for the minister's daughter (Lori Singer), but his love for music and dancing gets him into hot water equally as fast.??

Click here to order from Amazon

Joe Dante's "Trailers from Hell" site features Marlon Brando trailers this week, including director Sidney J. Furie's sadly neglected 1966 Western "The Appaloosa", with trailer commentary by film director Daniel Kremer, who authored a book about Furie. Kremer makes the most of the trailer's limited running time, providing fascinating and amusing insights into Brando's bizarre behavior on the set. The reluctant superstar had a bad attitude about making the film, which he had to do to satisfy a long-time contractual commitment to Universal. The film is not a classic, but like most of the movies Brando made in the 1960s, it is underrated. 

Click here to order the Blu-ray of the film with commentary track by Cinema Retro's Lee Pfeiffer and film historian Paul Scrabo.

By Hank Reineke

Nicholas Anez’s Science Fiction Thrills… Horror Chills is the fourth installment of the author’s “Celluloid Adventures” series, all published by Baltimore’s Midnight Marquee Press. Although I’m not familiar with Anez’s original triad, I can reliably muse - based solely on the strength of his newest effort - the preceding trio are as well-researched, informative and against-the-grain-in-opinion as is this new volume.

In his introduction to Science Fiction Thrills, Anez – full disclosure, a contributing writer to Cinema Retro magazine - informs readers that his intent in the writing of this current book is to “hopefully create interest” in fourteen –mostly dismissed upon original release – sci-fi and horror films. These were films that, in one way or another, failed to find an appreciative audience despite creative merit. Being a guy from New Jersey, I can appreciate Anez’s fighting up from the mat for recognition of these underdog efforts, championing under-performing films he posits as overlooked cinematic treasures.

The fourteen films that go under Anez’s microscope are: Son of Dracula (1943), Alias Nick Beal (1949), The Maze (1953), Donovan’s Brain (1953), 1984 (1956), The Mind Benders (1963), Crack in the World (1965), The Mummy’s Shroud (1967), The Power (1968), Journey to the Far Side of the Sun (1969), The Groundstar Conspiracy (1972), Who? (1974), The Medusa Touch (1978) and Capricorn One (1978). The latter title, Peter Hyman’s “space mission” conspiracy film Capricorn One is, of course, an odd man out in this study. Though not critically praised on its release, the film actually performed reasonably well at the box office.

Each of Anez’s contributing essays are formulaic in presentation: an introductory paragraph or two; a multi-page synopsis of the film’s storyline; a discussion of the movie’s production history (including full cast and crew credits); a review of a film’s critical reception and subsequent box office performance. The book is filled with a score of illustrations – both photographs and promotional memorabilia - all well-reproduced in balanced black-and-white saturations. The book additionally closes with an eight-page Appendix where the author lists his favorite sci-fi and horror flicks - as well what he considers the greatest performances by an actor or actress in both genres. Suffice to say, I share many of the author’s cinematic enthusiasms.

To his credit, Anez doesn’t argue that any of the films under examination - in an extremely readable and cogent two-hundred and fifteen page paperback - is necessarily a “lost classic.” But Anez does suggest that each film studied here offers challenging ideas and (mostly) cerebral storylines. Some of the films, he argues, were critically maligned or were proven box office disappointments for economic reasons: that is, a shortfall of money. Too often the production budgets allotted were simply too modest to mount and support the project’s ambitions. Having said that, Anez also notes the paucity of money wasn’t always the reason a particular film did not light up the big screen as hoped. The author opines some of the films perhaps simply fell to the wayside due to the carping of critics (i.e. the alleged miscasting of Edmond O’Brien as “Winston Smith” or of Michael Andersons’ “unobstructive” direction of George Orwell’s novel 1984).

Other films, such as Basil Dearden’s The Mind Benders, might not have met expectations due to the filmmakers having chose to mix multiple genre devices into their storylines. Anez gives examples: The Mind Benders is described as being “as much a domestic drama as a thriller.” He offers John Farrow’s Alias Nick Beal as “a supernatural horror story,” but one that “also fits in the category of film noir.” The author also contends that Robert Siodmak’s Son of Dracula (a personal favorite of mine, featuring an arguably miscast corn-fed Lon Chaney Jr.) remains “a vastly underrated horror movie that is also a romantic tragedy.”

It soon becomes apparent that Anez’s argument that certain films failed at the box office - or with film critics – was not due to the quality of the films themselves. Instead many were perhaps doomed by visionary “outside-of-the-box” productions that were tough to commercially pigeonhole. Perhaps these films didn’t achieve nor enjoy a measure of acclaim due to the schematics of the filmmakers. It’s suggested such creative teams, at their own expense, had gambled on their film’s commercial potentials – perhaps accidentally, perhaps purposefully. Ultimately, they chose not to cater to clichés or to rigid formulas or to the expectations of their target audience.

In the book’s afterword, Anez notes he chose to focus on “an era in which science-fiction movies depended on ideas and not special effects,” a time when horror films conjured chills “upon the power of suggestion and not graphic gore.” Reading through these essays it becomes obvious that Anez is a strong champion of scenarios that feature solid writing and cerebral storytelling. It’s of interest that of the fourteen films examined here, no fewer than eight had been adapted from pre-existing science-fiction novels or other literary sources published from the 1940s through the 1970s.

Anez acknowledges that some of these films under his microscope might now appear dated - even open to some ridicule by contemporary standards - for their dopey, unsophisticated poor-science-based projections. He muses other films might have been doomed at the box office by their gloomy, paranoid prognostications of a dreary, dystopic future. (Certainly none of the films Anez examines here can be thought of as “feel good” movies – quite the opposite, in fact). Such dystopic melancholia is reflected in Anez’s own opinions. He writes of his fear that contemporary exercises of political correctness and encroaching Orwellian cancel culture movements might yet alter - even expunge – aging artistic works and forms of “popular culture from the past.” “In today’s Hollywood,” Anez sighs, “nothing is implied anymore; everything is explicit.”

I’m probably not as fatalistic as Anez on some of the points he makes, though one can certainly understand – and even sympathize with – some of the arguments he makes. But by my reckoning, home video has - from inception - assured that a majority of cultural artifacts will survive in their original forms for some time well into the future. Certainly books and films and music reflective of the aggrieved historical period in which they were created will survive in their original state. How could they not? There’s too many of us who have carefully collected and curated these artworks to see them suddenly made unavailable. But it is also true that many of these works might – might - need to co-exist alongside a bowdlerized version for generations to come.

The real question is whether or not our shared histories – good, bad, tragic, celebratory or indifferent - can be erased easily? The jury is out on that point, and the debate on the historical revisionism of culture, I imagine, will be argued long into the future. It’s of interest that many of the future-looking films that Anez studies in Science Fiction Thrills… Horror Chills cautions and forewarns against the censorship of free ideas - be those ideas well-meaning, ignorant, brilliant or otherwise. I was going to end this review with Shakespeare’s famously reflective and internal ponder on the duality of intentions, “Ay, there’s the rub.” But I admit I almost didn’t, perhaps employing a bit of guarded self-censorship. After all, Shakespeare, the “immortal bard” of Avon, might not prove so immortal after all. He too is now a target of cancel culture.

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“THE BUSTER KEATON COLLECTION, VOLUME 5”

(Three Ages: 1923; Directed by Buster Keaton and Eddie Cline)

(Our Hospitality: 1923; Directed by Buster Keaton and John G. Blystone)

(Cohen Film Collection)

“KEATON CLASSICS DOUBLE FEATURE”

By Raymond Benson

The availability of Buster Keaton on Blu-ray can be a head-scratcher. Kino Lorber seems to have the monopoly on Keaton’s features and shorts, but the puzzlement comes with more than one release of certain titles in Kino’s catalog of disks for sale. Add to this befuddlement is the Cohen Media Group and their Cohen Film Collection’s ownership of Keaton’s library. Cohen has also released Keaton Blu-ray disks—and they’re distributed by Kino Lorber! (And still others are released by Eureka Entertainment, licensed by Cohen!) Which editions are we supposed to get?

A new Cohen Film Collection release, available from Kino Lorber, is The Buster Keaton Collection, Volume 5, which includes a double bill of the master filmmaker’s 1923 features—Three Ages and Our Hospitality. (Also available from Cohen Film Collection are Volumes 1 – 4, which likewise contain double bills of Keaton’s features from the 1920s.)

Here on the Cinema Retro site, I reviewed the Kino Lorber release of Our Hospitality in 2019. Apparently the Kino versions are different restorations from the Cohen’s restorations. The latter are performed by Cineteca di Bologna as part of Cohen’s “Keaton Project.” Long ago, Cohen Media Group acquired the rights from the Keaton estate, even though other companies have had access to them. I won’t even attempt to sort out the rights issues here. Just know that the Kino Our Hospitality disk had bonus features, whereas the Cohen Film Collection double bill discussed here does not contain any supplements aside from Cohen’s own trailer of Our Hospitality release and other Cohen releases.

That said, the Cohen restorations by the Keaton Project are likely the best to come about. They look marvelous. Bonus features? Who needs supplements when the feature films are the best quality available?

Three Ages was Buster Keaton’s first feature film (not counting The Saphead, 1920, in which he only starred). Co-directed with Eddie Cline, Keaton presents the “story of love,” i.e., courtship, in three different time periods—the stone age, the Roman age, and modern times (the 1920s, of course). The same cast portrays the same character types in each story, and the film narrative jumps back and forth between these time periods throughout the run of the picture. Keaton stars as the “lesser” man when compared to his more attractive, manly, and wealthier rival played by Wallace Beery. The woman who is the object of both men’s affection is played by Margaret Leahy (the actress made only one film, and this is it). Beery’s character is a bully, and Keaton must overcome the man’s physical strength and social standing with cunning and trickery. There is certainly amusement and clever bits here, but Three Ages could be called baby steps for Keaton as a feature filmmaker when compared to later works. Three Ages was perhaps the Keaton film most in need for preservation, as there are many instances—a few seconds here and there—in which visual elements are deteriorated. The restoration folks have done the best they could, and this is probably the finest you will ever see Three Ages. The lively score for this release is composed and conducted by Rodney Sauer.

Of more importance and interest is Our Hospitality, considered one of Keaton’s greatest works, and it was only his second feature (it is co-directed by John G. Blystone). The story takes place in the early 1800s and draws upon a rural family feud like the Hatfields and McCoys—in this case the McKays and Canfields. When patriarch John McKay is killed by James Canfield (and vice versa), Mrs. McKay flees with little baby Willie McKay (played by Buster’s real-life infant son, Buster Keaton Jr.). Twenty years later, Willie inherits the old family estate in the south and returns to claim it, only vaguely aware of the feud that has existed for decades. On the way he meets Virginia (played by Keaton’s wife at the time, Natalie Talmadge), who happens to be a Canfield. Upon arrival at home, Willie continues to court Virginia, but her brothers won’t have it. The rest of the picture is a cats-and-mouse game of Willie avoiding being killed and at the same time wooing the woman he wants to marry.

There are many striking aspects about the picture. Keaton’s paid great attention to detail in the design and location shooting. Apparently, he took great pains to create realistic locomotives and tracks that depicted early train development in America (although he played with time period accuracy for the sake of more interesting visuals). The final act contains some spectacular and hair-raising stunt work by the star, including an incident of falling into rapids and almost drowning on camera. Mostly, though, the story is well-constructed, the characters have more depth than in the other silent comedies of the day, and, in the end, Our Hospitality is one of Keaton’s most satisfying movies.

Interestingly, it’s the only Keaton film to feature three generations of Keatons—Buster himself, his previously-mentioned son, and his father, Joe Keaton, as a train engineer.

The Cohen presentation here is gorgeous and near perfect. Carl Davis supplied the wonderful musical score that accompanies it.

For Buster Keaton fans, you can’t go wrong with this double bill release (nor with the Cohen Film Collection’s other four volumes). Highly recommended.

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Cinema Retro has received the following press release:

On November 28th, Arrow Video brings director Roger Vadim’s Barbarella to 4K UHD and Blu-ray with a brand new, eye-popping 4K restoration from the original negative. The film is based on the scandalous international comic book and stars Jane Fonda as a beautiful and intrepid cosmic adventurer. The story follows space vixen, Barbarella, as she engages in sexy, interplanetary romps while trying to stop the evil Durand Durand (Milo O'Shea) from using the ultimate weapon of mass destruction he’s created. Featuring actors John Phillip Law, Marcel Marceau, David Hemmings, Claude Dauphin, and Anita Pallenberg, and an out-of-this-world ‘60s pop visual style, Barbarella is a feast for the eyes in 4K UHD.

The two-disc 4K UHD Blu-ray and Blu-ray limited edition bonus content includes a reversible sleeve and a fold-out poster featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Tula Lotay; six double-sided collector’s postcards; an illustrated collector’s booklet featuring new writing on the film by Anne Billson, Paul Gravett, Véronique Bergen and Elizabeth Castaldo Lundén, and select archival material.

Both discs are loaded with bonus content, including audio commentaries, featurettes, interviews, trailers, image galleries and more. 

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RETRO-ACTIVE: MEMORABLE ARTICLES FROM THE CINEMA RETRO ARCHIVES

By Hank Reineke

In September of 2021 I attended Manhattan’s Quad Cinema screening of Thomas Hamilton’s affectionate documentary Boris Karloff: the Man Behind the Monster. As a life-long fan of the actor - and the owner of dozens of books examining the actor’s career in film, stage and radio - this was the sort of career-spanning appraisal I was hoping to someday see. Then, only a few weeks following that theatrical screening, Cinema Retro was provided a stream of the doc for critical review. This enabled me to watch the film a second time, revisiting bits of commentary I had missed or recalled only hazily. At the time the stream was provided to Cinema Retro, it was still uncertain if Boris Karloff: The Man Behind the Monster would be offered on physical media. That question was answered in October 2022 when the film became available as a two-disc combo Blu ray/DVD set from Voltage Films/Abramorama.

In the sixteen-page booklet that’s included in the set, director Hamilton advises both he and scripter Ronald MacCloskey originally envisioned their Karloff doc as a bold “4-hour, 2-part film or a 6 part miniseries.” They certainly had enough material to do so, with a reported 60+ hours of interviews involving no fewer than fifty-five subjects. And, that sixty hours of recorded interviews, of course, didn’t include the footage gleaned from Karloff’s fabled filmography.

While you’re not going to find some sixty-odd hours of extras on this release, the set does suggest that it offers an expanded director’s cut (titled on packaging - but not on the film itself - as Boris Karloff: The Rest of the Story). This is a bit curious. The version screened theatrically at the Quad ran 103 minutes – at least as per its billing at the cinema. The Rest of the Story disc runs one hour and forty-three minutes. Which, if my math skills haven’t failed, equals the same 103 minutes of running time.

Of course the new set does feature two additional bonus selections. The first, Meeting Boris Karloff, is, truthfully, not a terribly essential addition, but not uninteresting. It’s an offering of fourteen minutes of interview/commentary by three figures a bit tangential to Karloff’s legend. Of the trio, author and film historian Kevin Brownlow shares his reminisce of his November 1964 interview with Karloff. He recalls Karloff as an interesting interviewee – one who wasn’t remiss to take issue or correct erroneous information found in the press clippings Brownlow had collected. But he noted Karloff always challenged misinformation in a gentlemanly manner.

Andrew Pratt, described as a “great nephew” of the actor, then shyly recounts his one and only meeting with his great uncle. He credits that meeting as inspiration to pursue a career in film art direction – a career that would earn him a number of nominations and awards from the Academy, BAFTA, and the Art Directors Guild. The last subject interviewed was Anthony Bilbow, a television host of BBC-2’s Late Night Line-Up. His only real connection to Karloff was when the actor was a guest on the program, September of 1968. He recalls Karloff as a gentleman kind and warm, modest and self-effacing – but not in a “counterfeit” sort of way.

The final bonus feature of the set is a three-minute interview with the co-scriptwriter of Boris Karloff: the Man Behind the Monster, Ron MacCloskey. This New Jersey-based writer and comedian fell under Karloff’s spell at age seven, having caught Frankenstein on a late night TV telecast. A collector of Frankenstein memorabilia, MacCloskey’s interest in Karloff’s work proved lifelong and ultimately led to his teaming with director Thomas Hamilton to start shooting this documentary in 2018.

If the doc itself is truly an expanded version of the original, it doesn’t really change or radically alter anything presented in the theatrical cut. I’m more than willing to stand corrected if indeed, the doc is offered here in an expanded form. My frame-by-frame memories of those 2021 screenings are all a bit hazy now, so I can’t say with any certainty if extra footage/commentary was included. But, if you missed it the first time, I’ll tack on my original “streaming” review of October of 2021. I very much enjoyed the doc on its original run and my opinion of its merit has not changed at all. Read on, should you wish:

There’s a telling moment at the dénouement of Thomas Hamilton’s and Ron MacCloskey’s affectionate documentary Boris Karloff: The Man behind the Monster. Sara Karloff, the now eighty-two year old daughter of the beloved actor, opines that her father’s lasting cinematic legacy is due, in part, to the tenaciousness of his devoted fan base. It’s a demographic that we soon discover consists of a number of amazingly creative people: folks whose loyalty to and enthusiasm for Karloff’s work has not wavered over the decades. Sara’s contention is inarguably true. As this ninety-nine minute Voltage Films/Abramorama documentary unspools – crisply narrated by Paul Ryan and featuring commentary by preeminent Karloff scholar and “Biographical Consultant” Stephen Jacobs - we discover the actor’s admirer’s bridge several generations of fans and filmmakers.

The first generation to discover Karloff in the decades following his big splash as the Frankenstein monster in 1931, include directors Roger Corman and Peter Bogdanovich. Both men would have the opportunity and honor to work with the actor in his twilight years. The second generation of admirers were those introduced to Karloff via neighborhood cinema screenings or through television broadcasts of Shock Theater in the late 1950s/early 1960s.

These filmmakers, profoundly influenced by Karloff’s art, would go on to create a few cinematic gems of their own: John Landis, Joe Dante, and Guillermo Del Toro, to name a few. The latter gentleman is particularly effusive in his praise, describing Karloff’s performance as the vampiric Wurdalak in Mario Bava’s Black Sabbath as a “tremendous” example of the great actor’s “physical presence, his majesty, his demonic power.”

If the documentary is chock-full of talented filmmakers offering tributes, the film is also supported by the erudite commentaries of film scholars David J. Skal (The Monster Show: a Cultural History of Horror), Gregory W. Mank (Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff: the Expanded Story of a Haunting Collaboration), Donald F. Glut (The Frankenstein Legend: a tribute to Mary Shelley and Boris Karloff), Sir Christopher Frayling (Frankenstein: the first Two Hundred Years), and critic Leonard Maltin.

There are also short tributes and reminisces by several actors – three now gone - who had worked with Karloff at some point in their career: Dick Miller (The Terror), Christopher Plummer (The Lark, Even the Weariest River), Ian Ogilvy (The Sorcerers), and Orson Bean (Arsenic and Old Lace). Karloff’s tells part of his own story through audio recordings made available to the filmmakers courtesy of the British cinema historian/author Kevin Brownlow (The Parades Gone By…) and the Pacifica Radio Archive.

It has long annoyed me that when one searches out the term “Boris Karloff” in the ever-expanding IMDB, the resulting prompt identifies the actor’s signature film as The Grinch that Stole Christmas (1966). My daughters would remind me that my personal agitation of this result is, by definition, a “first world” problem, one hardly worthy of condemnation. But as cinema’s preeminent boogeyman for four decades, seeing Karloff’s storied career reduced to a role featuring only his disembodied voice as the Grinch… Well, let’s just say that I still find it somewhat misleading and inappropriate.

Be that as it may, Hamilton’s film reminds Karloff himself might disagree with my wariness of the Grinch being bandied as the cinematic crown jewel of the actor’s legacy. Sara Karloff recalls receiving a phone call from her father immediately following his recording of the narration for that beloved Dr. Seuss vehicle. The actor we learn was profoundly happy with his work on the now-famous animated holiday classic, telling his daughter proudly, “I’ve done something which I think is pretty good.”

Karloff would pass away a couple of years following the first broadcast of The Grinch that Stole Christmas, but he worked to the very end of his days, appearing in a number of memorable – and a few less-than-memorable – films, several of which would see release in years following his passing. His last films were little more than cameo-length appearances shot on a Hollywood sound stage. It was director Jack Hill’s idea to take the Karloff footage from these shoots and blend the results into a series of Mexican horror films.

Karloff, rightly and proudly, would choose to refer to his spell-binding turn as the semi-autobiographical aging horror film actor Byron Orlok in Bogdanovich’s Targets (1968) as his feature film swan song. Technically, it wasn’t. But the brief appearances in that post- Target series of Hollywood-Mexico co-production mash-ups were mostly an excuse for an old pro to continue to ply his trade and keep busy. But working oxygen-tank dependent and wheelchair bound on the Jack Hill-directed sequences, Karloff was prevented from doing much of anything with the already somewhat cut-and-paste material given to him.

Karloff, of course, was not the only “horror film” star of the genre’s celebrated Golden Age of the 1930s and 40s. Karloff, we learn, was actually not happy with the designation “horror movie”, much preferring his films to be termed as “thrillers” or “shock” pictures. His contemporary competitor as grand ghoul of the horror film - one whose own legacy would burn bright into the next century - was Bela Lugosi. Although Lugosi had too often played second-fiddle to Karloff in matters of employment and billing, the Hungarian’s post-mortem fame may have eclipsed his friend’s star over the last few decades.

For starters, Lugosi’s sad and lurid dependency on morphine and alcohol in his final years made him the subject of tabloid fodder, and gossip then – and now – still rules. Lugosi’s slow demise coupled with his appearances in several of Edward J. Wood’s revered cult films brought him a big degree of post-mortem fame. A brand new generation would discover the actor through Martin Landau’s Oscar-winning turn as Lugosi in Tim Burton’s semi-biographical drama Ed Wood.

To be fair, Lugosi’s string of mad performances in Wood’s Plan 9 from Outer Space (1957), Bride of the Monster (1955), and Glen or Glenda (1953) are, in many ways, were no less better or worse or more undistinguished than Karloff’s walk-ons in the creaky Jack Hill/Mexi-horror films of spring 1968. Though both sets of films are passably entertaining in their own uneven, cult-ish ways, both actor’s cinematic exits were ignoble ends to these two great men who famously made audiences shiver in 1931.

James Whale’s Frankenstein would ultimately transform Karloff into a full-fledged movie star, but it had been a long road to achieving such fame. The actor had been working on various Hollywood backlots since the silent era. In the course of his earliest silent film efforts – beginning with such titles as The Lightning Raider (1919) and His Majesty, the American (1919) – he worked as little more than an extra. His subsequent fame would cause a score of budding film historians to carefully survey battered old prints of Karloff’s earliest filmography in the often futile hope of catching a glimpse as he passed by the camera.

In truth, his decade-long career as a silent film actor was mostly non consequential. He would appear in approximately sixty or so silent films between 1919 and 1929. He would, on occasion, be gifted a role of some heft, most notably as that of “The Mesmerist” in The Bells (1926) opposite Lionel Barrymore, but he was most often cast in adventure-orientated serials as a heavy, or as a Hindu, Mexican or an Arab, a mystic or a general ne’er-do-well.

It was his casting as the sadistic “Galloway” in Howard Hawk’s sound prison drama The Criminal Code (1930) that brought him to the attention of Universal executives looking to cast a suitably cadaverous-appearing actor as the Frankenstein monster. Following Lugosi’s rejection of the part due to the absence of dialogue afforded, Bela’s pass on the role was fortuitous for Karloff. He was still hungry and looking for that big break. Although the role of the monster would forever typecast him, the actor remained forever grateful for having taking the role in Frankenstein, once describing the career door-opening creature as “the best friend I ever had.”

It’s not hard to see why Karloff’s portrayal of the monster remains the preeminent of the Universal series. He was, after all, the only actor to have been given the opportunity to actually act and emote, to bring a sense of pathos to the role. He was abetted, of course, by Jack Pierce’s iconic make-up which, rather than masking, cannily sculpted and made highlight of Karloff’s facial features and sunken cheeks. This gave the monster, according to one of the participants in the documentary, a “full expression range.” The trio of actors who would subsequently portray the monster in the Universal series simply weren’t given the opportunity to apply any emotive effect of their own. Even by Son of Frankenstein (1939), the third film in the series, the screenwriters had already reduced the monster into little more than a hulking, lumbering menace and henchman.

It is discouraging to learn that when Frankenstein had its gala premiere in the autumn of 1931, Karloff was not even invited to attend. He was already forty-four years of age when he assumed the role, a no-name celebrity and hardly a handsome matinee idol of any recognition. The unexpected phenomenal success of Frankenstein would change all that, and Universal was quick to capitalize on the actor’s sudden notoriety as Hollywood’s most beloved boogeyman. Karloff’s natural proclivity for taking on roles of menacing villainous characters with icy stares would allow his casting into a string of Golden Age horror classics – not only for Universal but for other studios as well, including memorable turn in MGM’s The Mask of Fu Manchu. The latter remains a great, entertaining film… if undeniably one of the most politically-incorrect lavish big studio productions of the 1930s.

When the market for horror films softened in the mid-1940s – thanks, in part, due to the horror genre’s continuing perceived transgressions of the Hays Code - Karloff easily transitioned to character roles, where, according to his daughter, her father’s natural “dark coloring,” permitted him to slip easily into “ethnic roles.” As one of the founders of the Screen Actors Guild, he was able to exercise his freelance status by working for, amongst others, RKO, Columbia, Monogram, and Warner Bros.

Another avenue of opportunity had presented itself around this same time. In 1941 Karloff was lured, against his better judgement according to this film, to take on the Broadway role of the villainous Jonathan Brewster in Joseph L. Kesselring’s stage play Arsenic and Old Lace. It was to his life-long disappointment that a clause in his theatrical stage contract prevented his returning to Hollywood – as did several fellow members of the original Broadway cast – to reprise the role for the much beloved Frank Capra film adaptation of 1944.

Though initially frightened to work in theatre before a live audience, the success of Arsenic emboldened Karloff to accept several other roles in such Broadway productions as The Lark (with Julie Harris), The Linden Tree, The Shop at Sly Corner, and even in a memorable turn as Captain Hook in a 1950 production of Peter Pan. Fortunately, we of a certain age who missed out still can get a small taste of what we missed since kinescopes survive from early Hallmark Hall of Fame broadcasts of the original production of The Lark and a 1961 re-staging of Arsenic and Old Lace.

Though Karloff’s work in radio is mostly ignored in this documentary, the film does take pains to point out that he was among the first movie stars of his generation to fully embrace television. Though he would often appear in serious televisions drams for such programs as Texaco Star Theater or Playhouse 90, he was not above spoofing his own curious fame as Hollywood’s grandest ghoul on any number of variety programs hosted by the likes of Red Skelton or Dinah Shore.

In the 1960s, he would famously host (and occasionally act) in episodes of the television program Thriller, or appear in drag as “Mother Muffin” in an episode of The Girl from U.N.C.L.E – or with former U.N.C.L.E. agent Robert Vaughn in the spy-film The Venetian Affair (1966). Joe Dante also references the series of wonderful long-playing albums Karloff would record over the years, his unmistakable, lisping voice introducing children to a wonderful selection of folk tales, ghost stories, Washington Irving classics, and time-worn fables.

Boris Karloff: the Man behind the Monster reminds us that the actor (1887-1969) accomplished a lot in his eighty-one-years, a large percentage of which would encompass appearances on screen, on stage, on air, on record, and on television. To their credit, the filmmakers share what they can in the constraint of the film’ ninety-nine minute running time, and the film certainly succeeds as an excellent primer. Karloff wonks like myself might hold out hope that a multi-part, Ken Burns-style series might someday be put into the works, but I imagine that’s unlikely. One hundred and thirty four years have passed since Karloff’s birth. The fact that contemporary audiences remain completely entranced by his filmography in 2021 is testament enough to the worthiness of this loving tribute painting him as one of Hollywood’s greatest.

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RETRO-ACTIVE: THE BEST FROM THE CINEMA RETRO ARCHIVES

By Lee Pfeiffer

There has been a very positive response to Cinema Retro's coverage of "B" WWII movies in some of our back issues. Writer Howard Hughes concentrated on the films produced by Oakmont Productions, the British-based company that financed and released such modestly-budgeted gems as Attack on the Iron Coast, The Thousand Plane Raid, Hell Boats, and Mosquito Squadron. These films had no lofty pretenses of being potential Oscar winners. Instead, they were made simply to generate a modest profit. However, they tended to be intelligently scripted and well-directed and acted, with showcase roles afforded to stars who didn't usually get top-billing (Lloyd Bridges, Christopher George, David McCallum). The 1970 film Underground was not an Oakmont production but is largely indistinguishable from the company's catalog of titles. It stars Robert Goulet as Dawson, an embittered American agent for military intelligence who is based in England. Dawson is wracked by guilt because his mission behind German lines in occupied France ended disastrously. Both he and his fellow agent (his wife) were captured. Dawson, under extreme torture, revealed his wife's true identity and she suffered a horrendous death at the hands of the Gestapo. Dawson managed to escape and make his way back to England, though how he achieved this remarkable feat is glossed over in the script.  The film opens with Dawson bluffing his way aboard a plane carrying a fellow agent on a new mission over occupied France. Dawson, who is determined to atone for his previous failure by taking on this mission himself, disables the agent and parachutes in his place to meet his contacts in the French Resistance. His French underground colleagues find him to be a bitter, unpleasant man and it isn't long before they realize that he is an imposter for their real contact. Nevertheless, Dawson persuades them to let him carry out the important mission which involves kidnapping a high profile German general who has vital intelligence information and bringing him back to England. Dawon's team is headed by Boule (Lawrence Dobkin), a headstrong and valiant man who frequently locks horns with Dobson over strategy. The team also includes Yvonne (Daniele Gaubert), a beautiful agent who is Boule's wife. Complications ensue when Dawson shows his more human side and he and Yvonne secretly become lovers.

Underground is the kind of film that often receives the backhanded praise of benefiting from "workmanlike" efficiency from its stars and director Arthur H. Nadel. Yet, like the Oakmont productions, it probably plays better in today's era of overblown, CGI-stuffed action movies than it did at the time of its initial release. The film is tightly scripted and the plan to capture the German general is straight out of a top-of-the-line Mission: Impossible episode. The movie was shot on location in Ireland but the countryside passes convincingly for France. Goulet, grim and determined, makes for an impressive leading man and there are fine turns by Lawrence Dobkin and Carl Duering, who is impressive as the German general who adds a clever plot twist to the story line. Like most of these WWII mini "epics" of the period, the production team manages to make the film look far more expensive than it probably was. The action sequences are exciting and well-staged, particularly a climactic shootout as Dawson awaits the arrival of a British plane on a makeshift runway as German forces close in on him and his team.

Underground has been released by MGM as a region-free DVD with a rather bland cover design instead of the terrific original poster artwork. Transfer quality is very good but there are no bonus extras.

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By Todd Garbarini

Paramount Home Video has released a set of five horror films in 4K UHD format. Here is a breakdown of the films included in the set.

Rosemary’s Baby (1968)

I was in the minority of those left unimpressed by Roman Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby (1968), based upon the 1967 novel of the same name by Ira Levin. I never saw what the fuss was about and could not find it even remotely scary when I originally saw it in the 1980s on VHS. I rewatched the film when the Criterion Collection released it on the now-out-of-print Blu-ray in October 2012 (if you have that version, hold on to it) and I realized that I had an incorrect reading of it. I believe that the terror that oozes from the screen is directly attributed to Rosemary Woodhouse’s (Mia Farrow) new life in the enormous Dakota Apartments (made famous by Mark David Chapman following his murder of John Lennon in December 1980) which is surrounded by people who initially make her feel safe and welcomed, but slowly begin to reveal their true natures which are malevolent and evil. Her husband Guy (maverick independent film director and actor John Cassavetes) is a struggling actor who understudies for a Broadway play and is suddenly fast-tracked to the lead role by the inexplicable blindness that befalls the play’s lead actor (portrayed by an off-screen Tony Curtis over the phone) following a discussion with two nosy neighbors (Sidney Blackmer and Ruth Gordon as Roman and Minnie Castavet, respectively) who ingratiate themselves into their lives. Coincidence? Guy is often short-tempered with his wife, but midway through the film he suddenly has a burst of fatherhood when he suggests to her that they have a baby. Overwhelmingly happy, Rosemary soon becomes suspicious of the people around her during her pregnancy. They are revealed to be a coven of witches, and Rosemary is carrying Satan’s child during a disturbing sequence of supernatural impregnation that she believes was just a dream.

Rosemary’s Baby is the ultimate gaslighting movie. It is also a movie that, I would imagine, would work to great effect on the psyche of female audience members for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is due to knowing what the outcome of Rosemary’s pregnancy is, and knowing that no one, not even the doctor (Charles Grodin) she has foolishly and naïvely confiding in regarding her suspicions regarding the coven, can or is even willing to help her. The film is set against a backdrop of complete normalcy, and when that normalcy is slowly eroded by the Devil’s minions in sheep’s clothing, it’s too much for us and Rosemary to bear. It’s also a film about betrayal, and it’s shocking to see how Guy willingly confesses to her that he had no problem selling her out to this life inorder to make an easy life for themselves, something he sees as a bonus. Her reaction to him and to the (offscreen) face of her baby is complete disbelief, and Ms. Farrow is more than capable of carrying the film. Rosemary’s horrifically contorted face when she sees her baby for the first time, Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking (sorry, Walt…), is all that the audience needs to know that the evil has come full circle.

Rosemary’s Baby turns 55 this year. Filmed in the final four months of 1967 and released on Wednesday, June 12, 1968, it takes place in 1965 and 1966. Ruth Gordon won a Best Supporting Actress Oscar for her performance. It is widely considered to be one of the greatest horror films of all time, and it was selected for preservation in the National Film Registry by the Library of Congress in 2014. The film spawned a TV-movie follow-up in 1976 with Patty Duke.

The new package contains the film in 4K UHD on one disc, and the film on a standard Blu-ray, the latter boasting the following extras:

Rosemary's Baby – A Retrospective – this piece, originally shot in 2000 for the DVD, runs just under 17 minutes and includes comments from the late film producer Robert Evans, the late production designer Richard Sylbert, and Roman Polanski.

Mia and Roman – this piece runs roughly 23 minutes and contains a lot of nice behind-the-scenes shots taken during filming on location in New York City, with input from actress Mia Farrow and director Roman Polanski.

Theatrical Trailer

50th Anniversary "Redband" Trailer

This is a nice upgrade to 4K that will make you feel as though you’re watching it in a cinema again, though the lack of a feature-length commentary by film historians is disappointing given the film’s stature in the genre, making one wonder if the director is just against this sort of thing. Steven Spielberg and David Lynch do not offer commentaries on their works, sadly.

NOTE: It has come to Paramount’s attention that there is an error on this pressing, and they are going to correct it with a disc replacement program. Apparently there is a line of dialog missing from the film! When you purchase this box set, click on this link to request the replacement discs which should become available in the next several months.

Pet Sematary (1989)

Stephen King published two frightening and best-selling novels in 1983: Christine and Pet Sematary. Attempting to sandwich these massive tales into films that ran less than two hours is a near impossible task and neither film, the former directed by John Carpenter and the latter by Mary Lambert, is completely successful in this regard. Lensed between August and November 1988 and released on Friday, April 21, 1989, Pet Sematary begins with a familiar nod to Dan Curtis’s creepy Burnt Offerings (1976) as Dr. Louis Creed and his wife Rachel (Dale Midkiff and Denise Crosby) leave the Windy City and arrive at their new Ludlow, Main home with their young daughter Ellie (Blasé Berdahl) and even younger son Gage (Miko Hughes). The house is located right in front of a major road that trucks whiz by at a high rate of speed, setting up the roadway as the imminent threat. Jud Crandall (Fred Gwynne), the family neighbor, takes them to the Pet Sematary and explains how children bury their pets there. This proves convenient when the family, sans Louis, visit Rachel’s parents for Thanksgiving, and Ellie’s cat Winston Churchill (“Church” for short) is killed by a truck. Jud takes Louis to a location beyond the Pet Sematary called the Micmac Burying Ground dating back to ancient Native American days. Buried pets have come back to life, though their personalities are different, and this is no exception with Church. The idea is to save Ellie the grief of losing him.

Following Ellie’s displeasure of the now-reanimated Church’s smell, Gage finds himself in the path of a truck and, following his death, Louis digs up his corpse and heads for the Micmac Burying Ground despite verbal warnings from Jud. Unfortunately, Gage comes back as a meanie, killing those around him until a final showdown with his father.

Despite being written by author King, the screenplay never really manages to get above the level of a gross-out horror film. The subject of grief is best left to serious dramas (think Ingmar Bergman) as director Mary Lambert can only give us what’s on the written page as a truncation of an oversized novel, is fairly schematic at best. Whereas the novel is more of a deep-rooted mediation on the nature of the overwhelming emotion of grief over the death of a child, the film focuses more on the horrific aspects of the deaths at hand. It does seem to be enough, however, to satisfy genre fans.

Bonus Content (on both 4K UHD Blu-ray and Standard Blu-ray Disc):

Feature-length commentary by director Mary Lambert

Pet Sematary: Fear and Remembrance – this piece is in high definition and runs about 7 minutes. Select members of the film’s cast and crew look back on the film and its reception.

Pet Sematary: Revisitation – this piece is in high definition and runs about 10 minutes. The director discusses the film’s production, how she came to direct the movie, and restoring the film.

Still Galleries – this is in high definition and consists of a large selection of photos separated into four sections.

Storyboards Introduction by Mary Lambert – this intro runs 1 minute in length. She explains how they derived the new transfer from the original camera negative and how the storyboards came to be.

Storyboards – this feature is extensive and recalls the image galleries of the laserdisc days. By using the left and right buttons on the remote control, you can navigate what is essentially a visual representation of the film. Very cool!

Behind the Scenes – this is a stills gallery that, like the storyboards, can be navigated in a similar fashion, showing images on the set of shooting during the summer of 1988.

Marketing – nice section of stills containing the marketing of the film for both theatrical and home video exhibition.

The following extras are only on the standard Blu-ray, though I will never understand why they do not replicate all extras on both discs as there is more than enough room to do so:

Stephen King Territory – this is a nice piece from 2006 that is shot in standard definition for the then-DVD release and runs about 13 minutes. It discusses the autobiographical genesis for the story, which really happened to Mr. King’s family and daughter.

The Characters – also from 2006 and shot in standard definition, this runs 13 minutes and looks at the motivations behind the characters and the cats used on the set. They had an ingenious method of making the cat’s eyes glow maniacally with an attachment to the Panavision cameras.

Filming the Horror – running 10 minutes, Mary Lambert discusses how the script came to her and while she read Stephen King’s novels, she did not consider herself to be a horror film director. Miko Hughes, who was two-and-a-half-years old when he played Gage, appears to have had a fun time on the set!

Smile (2022)

David Sandberg’s 2013 short film Lights Out is a brilliantly frightening, just-under-three-minute film about a woman seeing a strange creature in her kitchen and bedroom. It is widely available on Youtube and is one of the scariest movies I have seen in my 42 years of watching horror films and thrillers. It provided the basis for an unnecessary, feature-length film of the same name three years later, also directed by the same person, who has gone on to direct Annabelle: Creation (2017), as well as other projects. Likewise, Parker Finn is a director who made a short film called Laura Hasn’t Slept (2020), starring Caitlin Stasey and Lew Temple as her somnologist. It’s the second short he made after his impressive and creepy The Hidebehind (2018), a nearly ten-minute now-you-see-me, now-you-don’t bit of computer trickery that will make you think twice about trekking solo in a forest. In Laura Hasn’t Slept, which is just under twelve minutes, Laura tells her therapist that she has a recurring nightmare wherein a frightening man is constantly smiling at her. While I appreciated the effort of this film and experienced no difficulty in determining the ending, the prospect of sitting through the theatrical version entitled Smile simply did not sit well with me. My disappointment with Lights Out nearly made me pass on Smile, and I am glad that I reconsidered.

Unlike most of the horror films marketed today, Smile is every bit as terrifying as its marketing campaign has professed. Like The Blair Witch Project (1999), Smile feels like the sort of film that would emotionally bifurcate the audience into those who love it and those who hate it. In terms of genre tropes, the film’s most obvious cinematic antecedent is David Robert Mitchell’s superb It Follows (2014), and a nod to the film’s title can be further traced back to the malevolent chauffeur, played with icy stillness by the late Anthony James in Dan Curtis’s Burnt Offerings (1976). While it is true that familiarity can often breed contempt, this does not make Smile any less frightening. There is credence to the notion that although the film might offer up a less-than-compassionate view of mental illness and handle the subject flippantly, the movie should ultimately be judged for what it sets out to do: scare you. It may not be completely original, but it is no less frightening.

Sosie Bacon, the daughter of Kevin Bacon and Kyra Sedgwick, gives a bravura performance as recently engaged Rose Cotter, a psychiatrist who meets a new patient, Laura Weaver (Caitlin Stasey, the actress from the short film), who fails to convince Rose that she is being chased by a demon that possesses people by smiling at them. Rose’s training misinterprets this as an episode of some sort of psychosis until Laura screams and reacts violently to something in the examination room invisible to Rose. Laura’s terror suddenly turns inexplicably serene wherein she effortlessly cuts her own throat with a broken plant’s pot while smiling maniacally at Rose, who reacts with complete terror. Unbeknownst to Rose, a terrible curse that plagued Laura has now been transferred to her. It takes Rose a while to make this realization. In the interim, she blames what she experiences on overworking, reluctantly taking a week off at the urging of her manager. Her fiancée (Jesse T. Usher) wants to help her but feels powerless. Rose begins to have hallucinations, and as the audience we see what she sees. Her mother’s painful death becomes a force that she needs to reckon with and is a major reason why she works as hard as she does. The hallucinations become more and more unnerving. With the aid of her ex-boyfriend cop Joel (Kyle Gallner), she begins looking into murder cases wherein people having died by suicide that they committed in front of another person, and they themselves have also witnessed a suicide. A turning point occurs when Robert Talley (Rob Morgan of Netflix’s Stranger Things, in a small but powerful role), a murderer currently in prison, managed to escape the clutches of the entity. With Joel’s help, Rose goes to the prison to see him. He tells Rose that the entity feeds on other people’s trauma. Apparently, the only way to relieve oneself of this curse is to murder someone else in front of a witness to thereby transfer the trauma on to them (again, similarly like in It Follows). Rose attempts to do this, yet it turns out to be another hallucination. By the end of the film, Rose confronts her childhood trauma at her now-abandoned childhood home in an unsatisfactory ending that paves the way for a sequel.

Thematically similar to Rosemary’s Baby in that the protagonist knows the truth and cannot seem to convince anyone around them that they are not crazy, Smile, while certainly not original, manages to take a familiar horror genre trope and seriously make it its own, packing a powerful emotional punch with several genuine jump scares nearly on a par with Gary Sherman’s Death Line (1972) and William Peter Blatty’s Exorcist III: Legion (1990). In order for a film like this to work, the performances need to be believable and they are all spot-on.

Bonus Content (on 4K Ultra HD Disc):

Audio Commentary by director Parker Finn – this is a feature-length discussion by the film’s director who speaks about the movie scene by scene regarding what he wanted in the scenes and what he got. I normally shy away from such commentaries as I am not interested in a blow-by-blow description of the film, but the director speaks so intelligently about it that he is a constant pleasure to listen to.

Something's Wrong with Rose: Making Smile (HD) – at just under 30 minutes, this is a behind-the-scenes look at what it took to make the film in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic.

Flies on the Wall: Inside the Score (HD) – Smile has one of the creepiest scores that I have ever heard, and it was composed by Cristobal Tapia de Veer. In under nine minutes, we are treated to his vast studio and his methods of creating ungodly sounds for the film.

Deleted Scenes with Optional Commentary by director Parker Finn – there are two scenes provided here with an optional commentary and add depth to Rose’s character. These run just under 12 minutes. I would have loved to have had these scenes added as an optional cut of the film viewable through seamless branching.

Laura Hasn't Slept – Original Short with Introduction by director Parker Finn – this is the short film that Paramount scouts saw at South By Southwest in Austin, TX that paved the way for Smile. It runs about 11 minutes.

Cinema Retro has received the following press release: 

THE BELOVED HOLIDAY FAVORITE COMES HOME

FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER ON 4K ULTRA HD

"LOVE ACTUALLY 20^TH ANNIVERSARY EDITION"

YOURS TO OWN NOVEMBER 21, 2023

FROM UNIVERSAL PICTURES HOME ENTERTAINMENT

INCLUDES BLU-RAY™ AND DIGITAL CODE

SYNOPSIS: Funny, irresistible, and heartwarming, Love Actually is the ultimate romantic comedy that follows eight couples whose lives intersect shortly before Christmas. From the makers of Bridget Jones's Diary and Notting Hill, this beloved film is headlined by an incredible roster of stars including Hugh Grant, Liam Neeson, Colin Firth, Laura Linney, Emma Thompson, Alan Rickman, Keira Knightley, Rowan Atkinson and more. Take a breathtaking tour of love's delightful twists and turns as you fall under the spell of Love Actually and share the laughs and charm again and again!

• BONUS FEATURES:
• · Making LOVE ACTUALLY (NEW)
• o Join Writer/Director Richard Curtis along the with cast and crew as they reflect on the making of the film and its legacy 20 years later.
• · Deleted Scenes with Introductions by Richard Curtis
• · The Music of LOVE ACTUALLY with Introductions by Richard Curtis
• · The Storytellers
• o A featurette exploring the film’s main storylines, featuring interviews with the cast discussing their characters and the major elements within each on-screen relationship.
• · Kelly Clarkson “The Trouble with Love is” Music Video
• · Billy Mack “Christmas is All Around” Music Video
• · Feature Commentary with Director Richard Curtis and Actors Hugh Grant, Bill Nighy and Thomas Sangsters

Instagram: @uniallaccess

X: @UniAllAccess

Tiktok: @universalallaccess

LOVE ACTUALLY FILMMAKERS:

Cast: Alan Rickman, Bill Nighy, Colin Firth, Emma Thompson, Hugh Grant, Laura Linney, Liam Neeson, Martine McCutcheon, Rowan Atkinson

Casting By: Mary Selway _CDG

Music By: Craig Armstrong

Co-Producers: Debra Hayward, Liza Chasin

Costume Designer: Joanna Johnston

Line Producers: Chris Thompson

Production Designer: Jim Clay

Director of Photography: Michael Coulter _BSC

Editor: Nick Moore

Produced By: Duncan Kenworthy, Tim Bevan, Eric Fellner

Written and Directed By: Richard Curtis 

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By Fred Blosser

“The Hands of Orlac,” a 1960 U.K.-French co-production, was the third movie version of “Les Mains d’Orlac,” a sensational 1920 novel by French writer Maurice Renard. Like many of the other horror pictures released in 1960, it was filmed in black-and-white. The director, Edmond T. Gréville, was a veteran French-born filmmaker who had worked in both France and England. His previous picture, “Beat Girl” (1960), had featured Christopher Lee as a strip club impresario in an exploitative story about beatniks, aspiring rockers, and strippers. Lee and other British actors filled most of the major supporting roles in “The Hands of Orlac.” Exterior scenes were filmed on the French Riviera, interiors at Britain’s Shepperton Studios. An American actor, Mel Ferrer, was cast in the lead. Ferrer was a reliably familiar leading man for the all-important U.S. market. His name lent box-office appeal in those days when foreign movies were suspect in small-town America, as it did for another offbeat horror production in which he also starred that same year, Roger Vadim’s “Blood and Roses,” a French and Italian co-production. But U.S. distributors apparently saw no pressing need to slip Gréville’s film into American theaters, since it didn’t open here until 1964. By that time, a promotional still from the movie had appeared in the October 1963 issue of “Famous Monsters of Filmland” magazine, in a preview of upcoming horror and fantasy releases.

In the story, a celebrated concert pianist and composer, Stephen Orlac (Ferrer), flies from London to France to visit his fiancee, Louise (Lucile Saint Simon). His small plane wrecks in a fog, and Orlac’s hands are “burnt to the bone” in the crash. After his ambulance passes through a police checkpoint where a condemned murderer, Vasseur, is being transported to the guillotine, Louise prevails on a famous surgeon, Dr. Volchett (Donald Wolfit), to operate in an effort to save her lover’s badly injured hands. Coming out of the anaesthetic, Orlac finds his hands encased in huge, unsightly plaster casts. Worse, he sees the front page of a newspaper that juxtaposes a report about Vasseur’s execution with one about his own injuries. To his groggy eyes, the stories gradually merge into one under the headline, “Stephen Orlac Receives the Hands of Vasseur, the Murderer.” Lifting the grotesque casts, Orlac flies into hysterics. This was the publicity still that intrigued us young readers of “Famous Monsters” in 1963. It was also the centerpiece of the movie’s lobby-poster art.

Did the newspaper actually display the stories that Orlac read, more or less as he interpreted them? Was he hallucinating? Was there even a newspaper at all? No matter, the high-strung pianist becomes convinced that the surgeon found his hands irreparably damaged, amputated them, and replaced them with Vasseur’s, especially since, as he mourns, “They feel as if they no longer belong to me!” After the casts come off, he can’t get his fingers to strike the right notes on the keyboard.

The obsession grows stronger when Orlac and Louise make love. His fingers unconsciously tighten around her throat, and she begins to choke. That incident and others convince the pianist that Vasseur’s hands have a violent will of their own, and his fiancee’s life is in danger as long as they’re together. He checks into a sketchy Marseilles hotel under an assumed name, where he encounters a small-time stage magician named Nero (Christopher Lee, returning from “Beat Girl” as an even sleazier character). Nero senses an opportunity for blackmail; obviously, “Mr. Stephen” is a well-off guy who wouldn’t be holed up in a dump unless he had something to hide. Nero pimps out his pouty assistant and mistress, Li-Lang (Dany Carrel), to cozy up to Orlac and get him to talk.

Orlac’s self-imposed exile doesn’t last long. After Louise tracks him down, he decides to straighten up, return to England, marry Louise, and resume his career. But he continues to brood over his persuasion that his hands are no longer his own. Discovering “Mr. Stephen’s” true identity, Nero and Li-Lang follow. Nero sets about to feed Orlac’s paranoia, reasoning that the unhinged pianist will kill someone sooner or later, opening himself to big-time extortion.

To the extent that film enthusiasts take notice of “The Hands of Orlac” at all, they mostly judge it seriously inferior to the previous movie versions of Renard’s novel. Robert Wiene’s “Orlacs Hände” (1924), also called “The Hands of Orlac” in English-language prints, was a classic of German silent cinema, with Conrad Veidt as the title character amid feverish Expressionist sets. Following in 1935 from MGM, Karl Freund’s “Mad Love” with Colin Clive as Orlac draped the story in sadism and sexual perversion, to the extent Freund could do so under the vigilant eyes of the Hays Code censors.

Gréville’s remake dialed back on Wiene’s and Freund’s extravagance, accounting for some of its lacklustre press from critics who like to see the gothic thriller envelope pushed further than Gréville pushed it, at least in their opinion. It’s very much a product of 1960, emphasising the psychological aspect of Orlac’s dilemma and stepping into film noir territory once the intimidating Nero and Li-Lang enter the plot. It even evokes the emerging New Wave of French cinema with its documentarian exterior shots on the Riviera. Claude Bolling’s musical score includes light jazz for a scene in which Orlac tools around in a vintage sports car, and rinky-tink cabaret music for Li-Lang’s sultry song-and-slink routine following Nero’s magic act, juxtaposed with Beethoven and Liszt in the concert scenes that open and close the movie. Mel Ferrer lacks Conrad Veidt’s eye-popping hysteria and Colin Clive’s furrowed anxiety, his Orlac repurposed for 1960 as a sophisticate in shades, pullover sweater, and tailored slacks for casual wear, and an expensive suit for business occasions. If you’re a retro-fan of JFK-era men’s fashions, you probably won’t mind. You may even prefer Ferrer’s interpretation over his predecessors’. Like other British horror films of the time, such as “Jack the Ripper” (1959) and “The Two Faces of Dr. Jekyll” (1960), “The Hands of Orlac” promises plenty of sex appeal courtesy of Lucile Saint Simon’s filmy negligees and Dany Carrel’s showgirl outfits. In truth, this stuff is pretty tame by 2023 standards, but it was a draw for male filmgoers at a time when even the centrefolds in “Playboy” were often modestly posed.

For most of the picture, we don’t know whether Orlac’s obsession has a basis in reality, since we don’t actually see the operation itself. Were the killer’s hands really grafted onto his wrists, or is the pianist suffering from a morbid neurosis? An explanation is made toward the end that for may find satisfying or frustrating, depending on your tastes. It doesn’t help that Orlac is surrounded by oddball characters who only compound his unease. Nero is the only one who is overtly menacing, but others are unsettling in their own ways. In his few minutes on screen, Donald Wolfit’s Dr. Volchett is brusque and possibly alcoholic; his decision to save (or replace) Stephen’s damaged hands seems more a whim than a humanitarian impulse. His unnamed assistant (Anita Sharp Bolster) is a starchy spinster who wears rimless glasses with impenetrably thick lenses, like Albert Dekker’s in 1940’s “Dr. Cyclops.” When Orlac tries to call Dr. Volchett to either confirm or relieve his suspicions, the assistant tells him the surgeon is on professional travel—to Moscow!—and unreachable in that era before cellphones and Zoom. She brightens up as she enjoys a chance to extol her boss, but her comments only deepen Orlac’s fears: “Dr. Volchett is a magician,” she declares. “Your case was his greatest triumph.” In a small but bravura appearance, Donald Pleasence plays Coates, a sculptor who wants to use Orlac’s hands as the model for those of Lazarus in a biblical tableau of Lazarus raised from the dead. “All we see of Lazarus is his hands—your hands, Orlac!”, he exclaims, seizing the pianist’s wrists. Given Stephen’s state of mind, the sculptor’s fervor is more invasive than flattering, like the irritating stranger who latches on to you at a party and won’t let go. As he makes his pitch with growing enthusiasm, Orlac stares at his hands (poised exactly as he had scrutinized his grotesque casts earlier in the story), and runs off in panic.

“The Hands of Orlac” isn’t the best horror thriller of 1960. That would be Alfred Hitchcock’s “Psycho,” with “Blood and Roses” and Georges Franju’s “Eyes Without a Face” as close seconds. But it’s better than its obscurity would imply. In the U.S., “Eyes Without a Face” was dumped onto double bills as “The Horror Chamber of Dr. Faustus” and generally ignored by critics, much as “The Hands of Orlac” was. Now, it’s widely regarded as a classic. It’s surprising that Gréville’s picture hasn’t received similar reappraisal, given the renewed interest in neglected horror films in the home video era, and the movie’s value as an early showcase for Christopher Lee and Donald Pleasence. The problem may lie with the fact that an official DVD or Blu-ray edition for fair evaluation doesn’t exist in the U.S., the U.K., or anywhere else as far as I can tell. DVD-R versions are sold on the collector’s market, with caveats about their visual quality.

We discovered this presentation of the film on YouTube, apparently sourced from tape, perhaps one of two competing VHS releases in the 1990s, or a videotape from a long-ago television broadcast. The image is better than you might expect, if inferior to the hi-def transfers we’ve come to expect nowadays. It’s also the easiest way to find the movie, at least until we can hope to see original elements unearthed, if they still exist, and a better print prepared for Blu-ray or one of the major streaming platforms.

(To watch in full screen format, click on "Watch on YouTube".)

By Lee Pfeiffer

Richard Roundtree, whose portrayal of New York City private eye John Shaft made the character an iconic pop culture symbol, has passed away from pancreatic cancer at age 81. Roundtree was not the first actor to elevate the the image of Black male characters on the big screen. Stars such as Sidney Poitier, Harry Belafonte, Jim Brown and Fred Williamson preceded him. However, Roundtree had his own inimitable style as Shaft: brash, self-assured and cocky. Poitier's detective Virgil Tibbs was also a ballsy man of action but, as a police officer, he still had to stay within the system. Roundtree's Shaft had his own rules and code of ethics. The success of "Shaft"  for MGM in 1971 also was a milestone for director Gordon Parks, making him the first Black director of a highly successful big studio film. Isaac Hayes's Oscar-winning classic title song also helped elevate the film's success. The MGM production inspired two sequels: "Shaft's Big Score" and "Shaft in Africa" as well a a short-lived TV series starring Roundtree. The actor would also appear as the same character in spin-off feature films released in 2000 and 2019. However, there was far more to Roundtree's talents and career and he worked consistently in TV and films before and after the release of the original Shaft film. Click here for more.

By Lee Pfeiffer

Although the practice is all but obsolete today, for decades radio spots were used to promote new films to American audiences. For many of us, this was an era where you felt like your social status had improved immeasurably if your latest used car had the ability to pick up FM radio stations, even if the vehicle could be relied upon to break down several times a week. Radio spots generally ran in a variety of lengths ranging from 60 seconds to 10 seconds. Because they lacked visual elements, the producers of the tracks often used sensationalistic tactics to gain the attention of listeners, often stressing the most comedic or shocking elements of the film depending upon its subject matter. As with all things nostalgic, there is a passionate interest in radio spots among some retro movie fans who collect the vinyl discs. Most were released on 45 RPM but in earlier versions from the 1950s,  they were usually on 33 1/3" records.

Here is an original 1973 radio spot for William Friedkin's "The Exorcist".

Cinema Retro has received the following press release:

"Fans can plumb the depths of the horror genre with this collectible box set featuring five unforgettable movies, all in eye-popping 4K Ultra HD, along with over four hours of legacy special features and exclusive collectible items. Housed in deluxe packaging, each of the following films is presented in a special sleeve with artwork exclusive to the collection— Rosemary's Baby (1968) · Pet Sematary (1989) · Smile (2022) · Crawl (2019) · and a special mystery title making its 4K Ultra HD debut. The PARAMOUNT SCARES VOL. 1 Limited-Edition 4K Blu-ray Box Set also boasts collectible items, including an exclusive, full-size Fangoria magazine produced especially for the release. This special edition of the celebrated publication—"first in fright" since 1979—features a curated selection of new and classic articles from the magazine's archives. The set also includes a Paramount Scares enamel pin, unique stickers, and access to a Digital copy of each film. • Rosemary’s Baby (1968) • Pet Sematary (1989) • Crawl (2019) • Smile (2022) • “Mystery” Exclusive 5th Feature."

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