By Todd Garbarini

Would you go see a horror film billed as “Makes Night of the Living Dead Look Like a Kids’ (sic) Pajama Party! Scream so they can find you!!!” Somebody did. Released in New York City on Wednesday, March 7,1973 as the second feature on a double bill with Mario Bava’s R-rated 1971 film Twitch of the Death Nerve (the U.S. title of A Bay of Blood), Amando de Ossorio’s The Blind Dead actually was given a theatrical release in a watered down, PG-rated version minus blood, gore and nudity. It is also a tighter cut of the original (known as Tombs of the Blind Dead) as it also dispenses with some prolonged meandering that gets old real fast. Does the truncated Stateside version triumph over the longer original Spanish cut of the film? That depends on the viewer. As a purist who prefers a director’s original vision, I applaud the efforts of the uncut version.

Lensed in 1971 in Spain and Portugal at some truly creeping locales, Tombs of the Blind Dead, clearly influenced by George A. Romero’s aforementioned highly successful Night of the Living Dead (1968), is one of the better Spanish horror films to come out of the 1970s, so much so that it spawned no less than three follow-ups all written and directed by the original’s writer/director: Return of the Blind Dead (1973), The Ghost Galleon (1974), and Night of the Seagulls (1975). The madness begins when Virginia White (María Elena Arpón) encounters her old college lover Betty Turner (Lone Fleming) at a public pool. Their congenial attitude quickly becomes strained when Virginia’s friend Roger Whelan (César Burner) shows up and immediately takes a more-than-platonic liking to Virginia, inviting her on a train ride that he is taking with Betty. Female resentment ensues and Virginia takes it upon herself to jump off the train midway, baggage in hand, and goes off into the ruins of a town named Berzano that the train deliberately bypasses due to an unsavory past. Making creepy and effective use of the Monasterio de Santa Maria la Real de Valdeiglesias, Pelayos de la Presa, Madrid, Spain, the director follows Virginia through the decrepit structures and, unbelievably, camps out solo overnight! Her presence awakens the buried corpses of the Knights Templar from their crypts who attack and kill her, her body found by the train conductor the next morning when on the return trip. Betty and Roger look for Virginia in Berzano, and out of nowhere, two police detectives emerge to question them about their relationship to Virginia. It’s a peculiar entrance into the scene, as though they were standing “stage left” and issued in front of the camera by the offscreen director. Betty and Roger make their way to the requisite know-it-all, The One who comes in at the eleventh hour to explain the goings-on to them, in this case Professor Candal (José Thelman), who explains to them (and the audience) who manipulates them into finding his son, and the this leads to a showdown with the Knights and sets up the film for a continuation.

By Mark Cerulli 

Josh Agle, better known as “Shag” has made a name for himself creating Mid-Century, Tiki-inspired art that has become quite popular with collectors. He has previously mined the cinematic landscapes of Star Wars, Planet of the Apes, Godzilla The Addams Family and Batman, creating stylized fine art prints, many of which sold out. Now he’s finally turned his talents to James Bond, releasing “Bambi & Thumper”, a Diamonds Are Forever-inspired print at his Las Vegas store on May 27^th.

The work was, of course suggested by the 1971 Connery classic – “I first saw Diamonds Are Forever as a kid and the scene where two beautiful bodyguards beat up James Bond in a futuristic home is something that made a lasting impression on me,” the artist explained in a recent email to his followers. The story gets even better, as Agle wrote “Many years later I got to stay in that supervillain lair, the Elrod House in Palm Springs and I blasted the soundtrack to Diamonds Are Forever… how could it not inspire a painting?”

(Mark Cerulli with wife Sandra Carvalho with Shag at a recent print-release party at his gallery in Palm Springs, CA. Photo: Mark Cerulli.)

If your licensed troubleshooting takes you to Palm Springs, Shag’s unique store is worth a visit. The artist frequently hosts print release parties where he chats with guests and is happy to sign his work – which also includes Tiki Mugs, small prints, kitschy lamps and clocks, books, beach towels, even socks! He also has a store in The Palms Casino Resort in Vegas – a location both Bond and Shady Tree would feel at home at.

“Bambi & Thumper” will be for sale on the SHAG website (shagstore.com) starting Sunday, May 28^th, available framed and unframed. With a print run of only 200, hop in your Moon Buggy to grab one!

By Fred Blosser

Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Tarzan first appeared in the October 1912 issue of the pulp fiction magazine “All-Story.”  This inaugural novel, “Tarzan of the Apes,” introduced the character as a British peer, Lord Greystoke, who was reared by great apes in Africa as an orphaned infant, and then assimilated into European society in adulthood as a sophisticated adventurer and conservationist.  Burroughs was ingenious in working out the details of the premise (for example, how Tarzan taught himself to read and write), which bordered on science-fiction even by the standards of 1912.   

The story was immediately popular, and a hardcover edition followed in 1914.  It’s important to term the character “Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Tarzan,” as he was typically labelled in media credits, because the author shrewdly trademarked the name.  That way, he could control all uses of his creation, reap the profits, and legally stop any attempts by others to hijack it.  As Burroughs realized, the birth of the motion picture industry and the growth of newspaper syndication in the early 1900s offered access to unlimited audiences.  Many middle-class people in small towns might never buy a magazine or a book, but they were sure to be movie-goers and newspaper readers.  Securing Tarzan as his Intellectual Property allowed Burroughs to exploit those opportunities and ensure they didn’t fall into the hands of others.  He incorporated himself as Edgar Rice Burroughs, Inc., and wrote twenty-two more Tarzan novels over the next thirty-five years, along with many other science-fiction and adventure series.  Burroughs—and then after his death in 1950, his heirs—licensed Tarzan to numerous other media platforms, including movies, radio, a newspaper comic strip, comic books, toys, and television.  If podcasts, Twitter, YouTube, virtual reality, video games, and streaming video had existed back then, we can be certain he would have utilised them too.  Today, when we think of creators who wisely kept a tight commercial grip on their creations, Walt Disney and George Lucas are likely to come to mind, but Burroughs led the way. 

Over the years, movies’ portrayals of Tarzan have varied from the wily, masculine, powerful, articulate, principled character of Burroughs’ original vision to a muscular but asexual simpleton with the verbal skills of a two-year-old.  The latter version was popularised for one generation by MGM’s Johnny Weissmuller movies in the 1940s, and reinforced for the next by years of reruns on television.  The Weissmuller films began promisingly with the violent, sexy “Tarzan the Ape Man” in 1932 and “Tarzan and His Mate” in 1934, but over time at MGM (and then at RKO, where the series moved in 1943), they became increasingly simplistic.  Under the fierce censorship of Hollywood’s Production Code, MGM tightened down on the semi-nudity and mayhem of the first two films, aiming instead for a juvenile demographic.  The studio reasoned that kids were an easier audience who would laugh at the antics of Tarzan’s chimpanzee and not wonder why Weissmuller’s Tarzan never had intimate relations with Jane.  

The last seven decades have seen a variety of Tarzans.  Some producers adhered to the Weissmuller model, beginning with five features from RKO starring Lex Barker, who inherited the role after Weissmuller retired his loincloth.  Others redesigned the concept to meet changing trends in society.  In the James Bond era of the 1960s, a character closer to the Burroughs prototype appeared in two features starring Jock Mahoney and three with Mike Henry.  This peer of the jungle realm was a suave, jet-setting trouble shooter.  The image of an articulate ape man carried over to a 1966-68 NBC-TV series with Ron Ely in the role.  Where Mahoney’s and Henry’s character travelled to India, Thailand, Mexico, and South America to solve jungle crises, Ely’s remained in Africa, in one episode coming to the aid of three nuns from America played by Diana Ross, Mary Wilson, and Cindy Birdsong, better known as the Supremes.  Even with those attempts to appeal to a more contemporary audience, popular interest waned.  In part, this was because the Weissmuller image was the one that stuck in the popular memory, lampooned by television comics.  What can you do with a hero once your audience laughs at him?  Even more to the point, enormous cultural changes around racial issues occurred with the advancements of the Civil Rights era.  Many critics now saw Tarzan as a worrisome symbol of white entitlement, despite the prominent casting of Black actors and a more nuanced portrayal of African tribal societies in the Ron Ely series. 

Nevertheless, with a brand name that older viewers still recognised at least, the character continued to appear sporadically.  If you gathered around the VCR with your family as a kid in the Reagan years, the Tarzan you may remember best was Christopher Lambert’s portrayal in 1984’s “Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes.”  “Greystoke” had the good fortune to appear as VCRs became standard fixtures in American television rooms; on home video, the movie enjoyed a long life as a VHS rental.  Adapted by Robert Towne from “Tarzan of the Apes” and directed by Hugh Hudson, the film was promoted as a return to Burroughs’ concept of a feral but innately intelligent man who attempts to blend back into polite society.  Some Burroughs fans, primed to embrace a virile Tarzan close to the commanding pulp-fiction character, were disappointed.  In trying to rectify the prevailing Weissmuller image from decades past, Towne and Hudson may have overbalanced in the opposite direction.  Burroughs’ Tarzan dominated whatever environment he chose to be in; Lambert’s was a sad figure, overwhelmed and lost,once he left the jungle.  Nevertheless, lavishly produced, the movie was popular with critics and general audiences.  There were Academy Award nominations for Towne’s screenplay and for Rick Baker’s costuming effects for Tarzan’s adopted ape family.  Another live action movie (“Tarzan and the Lost City,” 1998), two short-lived, syndicated TV series, and Disney’s animated “Tarzan” (1999) were released through the 1990s.  

The latest iteration as a live-action feature, “The Legend of Tarzan” (2016), drew tepid reviews and disappointing box-office.  Although the producers cast Samuel L. Jackson in a prominent role alongside Alexander Skarsgard’s Tarzan above the title, the strategy probably did little to attract younger, hipper, and more diverse ticket-buyers as it was intended to.  Jackson’s American envoy remained little more than a sidekick to Tarzan in an 1885 period setting.  If you hoped to see Jackson’s character shove Tarzan aside to get medieval on somebody’s ass, you were disappointed.  In contrast, Marvel Studios’ “Black Panther,” with a modern Black jungle hero, a largely Black supporting cast and production team, and James Bond-style action situations, emerged two years later with a whopping $1.3 billion in ticket sales and a place on many critics’ Top Ten lists.  The 2022 sequel, “Black Panther: Wakanda Forever,” performed nearly as well with an $838.1 million return. On a $50 million budget, another 2022 Hollywood production with a prestigious Black cast and exotic action in the Burroughs style, “The Woman King,” nearly doubled its investment with $94.3 million in revenue.

In late 2022, Sony Pictures acquired the latest screen rights to Tarzan and promised a “total reinvention” of the character. What the studio has in mind, and whether it will actually follow through, appears to be up in the air right now. Would anybody be surprised to see Tarzan “reinvented” as a role for a Black actor the next time out, if there is a next time?  Popular culture is already there. Vintage movies (“A League of Their Own”) and TV series (“SWAT”) once cast primarily with white actors are remade now, routinely, with Black stars or all-Black casts. On the hit Netflix series “Bridgerton,” actors of color portray British aristocrats in Jane Austen’s Regency-era England, in reality one of the whitest of white societies ever.   

As we wait to see what the next Tarzan, if any, will look like, The Film Detective has released “The Tarzan Vault Collection,” a three-disc Blu-ray set that includes the first Tarzan movie, “Tarzan of the Apes” (1918); “Adventures of Tarzan” (1921), a re-edited feature version of a 10-chapter serial; and “The New Adventures of Tarzan” (1935), a 12-chapter serial presented in its entirety.  The first two pictures starred Elmo Lincoln, a stocky actor who had appeared in several of D.W. Griffith’s milestone silent films, including the ambitious “Intolerance” (1916) as a Biblical strongman, “the Mighty Man of Valor.”  Although it’s said Burroughs wasn’t particularly fond of Lincoln’s casting after another actor was chosen but had to bow out, the films were relatively faithful to the source novels.   Outdoor filming locations in Louisiana for “Tarzan of the Apes” stand in acceptably for equatorial Africa, at least to the satisfaction of moviegoers in 1918 who had no idea what Africa really looked like, and certainly better than the studio backlots used in the Weissmuller films.  Actors in shaggy anthropoid costumes portrayed Tarzan’s ape friends.  Although primitive in comparison with the modern CGI in “The Legend of Tarzan,” the makeup effects aren’t bad for that early era of cinema. 

“Adventures of Tarzan,” based on Burroughs’ “The Return of Tarzan” (1913), finds Tarzan in pursuit of a villain named Rokoff, who has kidnapped Jane in a plot to find the treasure vaults of the lost city of Opar (an idea later reiterated in “The Legend of Tarzan”).  In “The Return of Tarzan” and subsequent novels, Tarzan blithely removes gold and jewels from Burroughs’ imaginary Opar to help support his African estate, reasoning that otherwise the treasure would just lie there.  In the books, the underground vaults are vast, cavernous, and sinister.  In the movie, where the 1921 budget was too low to keep up with Burroughs’ staggering imagination, they look more like somebody’s root cellar.  Good try anyway.  As an hour-long feature truncated from a much longer serial version, “Adventures of Tarzan” is a succession of chases, rescues, and fights from the final chapters of the serial.  A title card at the beginning brings the viewer up to speed on the action already in progress, much as the “Star Wars” movies do now.   

It may be confusing to watch an old serial after most of its continuity has been removed, but the third movie in the Film Detective set, “The New Adventures of Tarzan,” represents the other side of the coin as a serial presented in its original, multi-chapter format.  The serials were designed to be taken one chapter at a time each week.  That remains the best way to experience one.  Otherwise, watched in a binge, repetition becomes a problem.  It’s difficult to work up much concern when Tarzan falls into a crocodile-infested river in Chapter Seven, if, an hour earlier, he’d already escaped the same danger in Chapter Three.  Still, taken piecemeal or in one long sitting, fans will be happy for the chance to see this original version of “The New Adventures of Tarzan,” which is better known in its truncated feature version, “Tarzan and the Green Goddess,” a one-time television staple.  Co-produced by Burroughs, it introduced Herman Brix, a 1928 Olympics finalist, as the title hero.  Trimly muscular, Brix was offered as an alternative to Johnny Weissmuller’s monosyllabic Tarzan; his version, endorsed by Burroughs, spoke in whole, commanding sentences and looked equally comfortable in a loincloth or a dinner jacket.  The serial was set and filmed on location in Guatemala, where Tarzan and his friends race against the bad guys to find a Mayan statue with a valuable secret.  Fans often rank Brix with Jock Mahoney and Mike Henry as their favourite Tarzan.  He later changed his screen name to Bruce Bennett for a long career in Westerns and crime dramas.  Humphrey Bogart fans will remember him as Cody, the drifter who tries to steal Fred C. Dobbs’ gold mine claim in “The Treasure of Sierra Madre.”  

The back story of the serial is more intriguing than the plot about the Mayan statue.  Burroughs fell in love with the wife of his co-producer, Ashton Dearholt, eventually marrying her after she divorced Dearholt and Burroughs divorced his first wife.  In turn, Dearholt had carried on an extramarital affair with Ula Holt, the lead actress in the serial, and they married after Dearholt’s divorce.  It’s the kind of Hollywood story that TMZ.com would love today. 

Here's a gem from an unusual Fox double feature: "Planet of the Apes" and "Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines". The only less-compatible combo occurred when Paramount paired "The Odd Couple" with "Rosemary's Baby"!

(Thanks to reader Jim Kroeper for the submission.)

David Warner in "The Omen" (1976). (Photo: Cinema Retro Archive)

By Lee Pfeiffer

Movie fans are mourning the loss of British actor David Warner at age 80. Warner was known for often playing quirky characters in major films. He began acting in movies in the early 1960s while also appearing in stage productions. He studied his craft at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in London. No specific cause of death was announced but his family confirmed he had been suffering from a "cancer-related illness" for the last 18 months. Warner rarely scored a leading role but had a distinguished career playing supporting roles in many high profile films.

His credits include "Titanic", "Morgan", the 2001 version of "Planet of the Apes", "In the Mouth of Madness", "Star Trek V: The Final Frontier", "Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country", "The Man with Two Brains", "Tron", "The Concorde: Airport '79", "The French Lieutenant's Woman", "The Island", "Cross of Iron", "Straw Dogs", "The Ballad of Cable Hogue", "Perfect Friday", "The Fixer" and "The Deadly Affair". In the 1979 film "Time After Time", Warner played Jack the Ripper, who manages to travel through time to the modern era. One of his best-remembered roles was as the photographer who assists Gregory Peck in attempting to thwart the satanic threat in "The Omen".  His last screen appearance was in "Mary Poppins Returns" in 2018. For more, click here.

RETRO-ACTIVE: THE BEST FROM CINEMA RETRO'S ARCHIVES

(This article has been revised and updated from its original version.)

BY LEE PFEIFFER

The Fourth of July seems to be an appropriate day to revisit our review of one of the most savaged films of its times- and to re-evaluate many merits that were initially overlooked.

It certainly isn't unusual for studios to invest money in director's cuts of films that were critical and box-office successes, but in a highly unusual move, Warner Home Video has made it possible for director Hugh Hudson and star Al Pacino to revisit and improve upon one of the most notorious box-office bombs of all time: the 1985 epic Revolution. The film was ravaged by critics and a disinterested public virtually ensured the movie would go down in the annals of Hollywood financial disasters. Yet, like Heaven's Gate, it's a film that is often mocked by people who probably haven't even seen it. I had only viewed it once - when it was first released on VHS. With the widescreen image cropped and the shoddy transfer work that was the rule during those dark days of the pre-DVD era, I was not impressed with the movie- though I felt it had far more qualities than its reputation might indicate. The story centers on Tom Dobb, a poor widower who comes to New York City with his young son Ned to sell his furs. He finds the city in a state of revolutionary fervor, as colonists are on the verge of all-out rebellion against King George. Dobb is apolitical, but soon he and his son are ensnared by the events of the day and are virtually forced to serve in the rapidly-formed colonial army. The plot follows father and son through the early days of the revolution, when independence seemed to be a foolish dream. George Washington's forces lost most of the major battles and the troops starved and froze before the tide of battle turned.

There are two other major characters in the film: Daisy (Nastassja Kinski), a rebellious teenager disowned by her Tory family for obsessively fighting for the cause of the revolutionaries, and Sgt. Maj. Peasy (Donald Sutherland), a soft-spoken but sadistic British officer with a penchant for molesting little drummer boys. In the original version of the film, director Hugh Hudson (fresh from acclaim for Chariots of Fire and Greystoke, The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes) found himself under great pressure from the financing team that was backing the film. He had to make some drastic artistic compromises and knew full well that the finished film released to theaters was far from his original vision. What he didn't expect was the sheer venom extended to his movie. The criticism was scathing and much of it was directed at star Al Pacino, who garnered the worst reviews of his career. There was little mention of the magnificent battle scene, the outstanding production design or the stirring score. The film vanished from theaters and both director and star suffered career set-backs.  

The new version of the film is titled Revolution Revisited and benefits extensively from the mere fact it looks terrific in the DVD format. Hudson cut about five minutes of the film (including the sappy ending that was forced on him by the producers)  and more crucially, added a narration by Pacino that ties up many loose ends and makes the story far more coherent. (One complaint: Pacino virtually whispers the narration, making it difficult to hear without the sound cranked up full volume.) Nevertheless, the movie deserves a re-evaluation and I have to say that it now plays wonderfully. Hudson's skill at handling the epic qualities of the story, without sacrificing the human aspect, is far more apparent with the new version. The performances are all first rate, even if the characters are still a bit sketchy. (Pacino and Kinski keep bumping into each other in the most unlikely places, though it's never explained why their brief encounters lead to an obsessive love affair.) Hudson's use of the hand-held camera during the main battle sequence was scoffed at by critics, but today it is standard practice - and adds immeasurably to the feeling of realism. Assheton Gorton's production design is truly superb and transplants you back into the era with a feeling of conviction.

In addition to the original trailer (which shows some of the cut final scene), the DVD has a very unique featurette- a recent sit down, causal conversation between Hudson and Pacino in which they candidly discuss what went wrong with the first version of the film. Both agreed it was too hurried and was confusing. Pacino expresses amazement that he was mocked for his accent in the film, even though it was carefully worked on with the aid of historians to ensure accuracy. He also points out this was the only film he had made that was not of a relatively contemporary nature and his was disappointed to learn his audience would not accept him in a historical epic. Both he and Hudson admit the film damaged their careers and they didn't work again for years. This type of candor is all too rare and quite refreshing in the realm of DVD documentaries. Pacino says there are no other films he is as defensive of and so enthusiastic about revisiting to give it a second chance. The conversation lets us in on several juicy bits of trivia - Sylvester Stallone wanted the lead role in this, and Al Pacino had been offered the role of Rambo.

It sounds like a cliche, but you haven't seen Revolution until you've seen the new, improved version. I don't want to overstate the movie's merits. This isn't some under-appreciated classic and some of its primary flaws remain. However, there is much to value here that was overlooked in the original version of the film and only improved upon in the director's cut. Hardcore Cinema Retro readers will be especially appreciative of Hudson's achievement and the massive scale of the film in that glorious era that preceded CGI.  Given the passage of time, I believe the critics were wrong about this one - and so was I.

(The U.S. DVD is now out-of-print but can be found on eBay. The film is currently available for streaming rental or purchase on Amazon. A Region 2 PAL format Blu-ray/DVD edition can be ordered from Amazon here.)

This will make retro movie lovers go bananas: the U.S. radio spot ads for the original "Planet of the Apes" films. "Its a madhouse! A madhouse!"

Benny Benassi Presents the Biz (Fan Video) Planet of the Apes Party Fun Time from Bradley Hasse on Vimeo.

We went bananas when we saw this. An enterprising video editor named Bradley Haase has revisited the original "Planet of the Apes" and concocted a hilarious music video based on the premise of an Ape Dance Party, complete with vinyl records and glitzy disco decor. It's too bizarre to describe. Just watch it. If you don't share our sense of amusement, then in the words of Charlton Heston's Taylor, "Damn you all to hell!"

(We are running this review from 2016 in commemoration of Pearl Harbor Day.) 

BY LEE PFEIFFER

If ever an epic deserved the Blu-ray deluxe treatment, Fox's 1970 Pearl Harbor spectacular Tora! Tora! Tora! is it. The film was a major money-loser for the studio at the time and replicated the experience of Cleopatra from a decade before in that this single production threatened to bankrupt the studio. Fox had bankrolled a number of costly bombs around this period including Doctor Doolittle, Hello, Dolly and Star! Fortunately, they also had enough hits (Patton, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, M*A*S*H, the Planet of the Apes series) to stay afloat. However, the Tora! debacle cost both Fox chairman Darryl F. Zanuck and his son, production head Richard Zanuck, their jobs. Ironically, Darryl F. Zanuck had saved the studio a decade before by finally bringing Cleopatra to a costly conclusion and off-setting losses with spectacular grosses from his 1962 D-Day blockbuster The Longest Day. By 1966, Zanuck and that film's producer Elmo Williams decided they could make lightning strike twice by using the same formula to recreate the December 7, 1941 attack on Pearl Harbor. The project seemed jinxed from the beginning. Skyrocketing costs and logistical problems delayed filming until 1969. By then, America's outlook about war movies had changed radically due to the burgeoning anti-Vietnam movement. Zanuck and Williams also forgot one important distinction between The Longest Day and Tora! Tora! Tora!: the former was about a major Allied victory while the latter was about a tremendous defeat. Americans generally stay away from military movies that depict anything other than glorious victories and Tora! was no exception. Critics were also lukewarm and the only saving grace was that the film performed spectacularly in Japan, largely because it presented both sides of the conflict on a non-judgmental level.

Bringing the story to the screen strained the relationship between both Zanucks, especially when legendary Japanese director Akira Kurosawa was brought on board to helm the Japan-based sequences. What should have been a tremendous boost to the production became a nightmare when Kurosawa acted irrationally and burned up money while working at a snail's pace. He was ultimately fired in a scandal that was seen as an insult to all of Japan. So much of the budget had been wasted that it left no major funding for big stars. Unlike The Longest Day, which boasted a "Who's Who" of international film favorites, Fox could only hire well-respected character actors with little boxoffice clout. Thus, the spin was put on the production that they were chosen due to their resemblance to the actual people they were playing. That notion was absurd because audiences did not know or care about such nuances, especially since many of the major figures were not known by their physical characteristics. Although fine actors such as Jason Robards, Martin Balsam and James Whitmore gave distinguished performances, the film lacked the pizazz of John Wayne or Lee Marvin in a lead role.

When the film opened, reviews were respectable at best. The film received Oscars for technical aspects but was not nominated in major categories. Yet, Tora's reputation has grown over the years and today it is much more respected than it was in 1970. The film is a thinking man's war movie and 2/3 of the film is dedicated to claustrophobic sequences set in board rooms and conference halls as the antagonists debate where and when war will break out. Nevertheless, this aspect of the movie is quite admirable, especially in this era of dumbed-down, CGI- generated "epics". The screenplay assumes the audience is intelligent and has the patience to endure a gripping story, well-told. By the time the actual attack on Pearl Harbor is depicted, it is quite spectacular, even if the use of miniatures in some scenes is very apparent.  The film is enhanced by the extremely efficient co-direction of Richard Fleischer, Kinji Fukasaku and Toshio Masuda. Most refreshingly, the Japanese characters are anything but ethnic stereotypes, which adds immensely to the impact of their side of the story.Special mention should be made of Jerry Goldsmith's innovative, pulse-pounding score that brilliantly heightens suspense as the time line draws nearer to the attack.

Fox's Blu-ray edition looks magnificent and contains a wealth of bonus extras that include numerous original Fox Movietone WWII newsreels, the excellent AMC network documentary about the making of the film as well as an equally impressive History Channel documentary that examines how accurately the film depicted real events, Day of Infamy (another very good documentary), the original trailer, commentary by Fleischer and film historian Stuart Galbraith IV and two still photo galleries. Astonishingly , Fox makes a major faux pas by not even listing on the packaging the fact that the set contains the entire Japanese release version of the movie, which includes ten minutes of footage not seen in the American cut. Not surprisingly, the extra footage is dedicated to the Japanese sequences and contains one bizarre, largely superfluous sequence centering on two cooks aboard one of the war ships. The Blu-ray has a menu that is rather awkward to find certain features through but the disc is attractively packaged in a small hardcover book that has plenty of insights about the film, biographies of cast members and a wealth of rare photos.

Tora! Tora! Tora! has only grown in stature over the decades- and Fox's magnificent Blu-ray release does justice to the type of ambitious epic we simply don't see today.

Click here to order from Amazon.

BY LEE PFEIFFER

Kino Lorber, in conjunction with Scorpion Films, has released  the offbeat WWII drama "Counterpoint" as a Blu-ray special edition. The film requires a bit of historical context before getting into the main plot. By December 1944, the Third Reich was crumbling rapidly. Allied forces were on the doorstep of Germany itself and victory was assumed to be only a matter of weeks away. However, Adolf Hitler had an ace up his sleeve. On December 16 he unleashed a massive secret reserve of tank forces in a surprise attack on Americans in Belgium. The Yanks were caught completely off guard as Panzers raced toward their goal of recapturing the port city of Antwerp. Hitler knew that if he succeeded in taking possession of this strategic city he could prolong the war indefinitely. Because German forces had to move at a lightning pace before Americans could regroup, they were given grim orders from the high command to execute prisoners because they could not spare the resources to imprison and care for them. This resulted in the infamous Malmedy Massacre in which dozens of American POW's were shot dead by German troops. The Americans retaliated with identical orders and there were instances of Germans who were shot dead after surrendering. Ultimately, Hitler's bold gamble, which became known as The Battle of the Bulge, failed. After strong initial success, due largely to the fact that the U.S. air corps was grounded because of poor weather, the tide turned. The weather improved and the Americans had mastery of the skies. They took a devastating toll on the Panzer corps, which itself was starved for fuel. Ultimately, the entire strategy was deemed one of the worst military blunders in history. Hitler had expended his last reserves that could have been used to defend Germany. Defeat followed and within six months, Hitler would commit suicide and his "Thousand Year Reich" would have lasted less than a decade.  

It is against this intriguing backdrop that the plot of "Counterpoint" (which was filmed under the title "Battle Horns") takes place. The movie opens immediately before the German counter-offensive. With victory in sight, complacent Americans feel comfortable inviting USO troupes into Belgium to entertain the G.Is. Among them is a world famous symphonic orchestra led by its larger-than-life conductor Lionel Evans (Charlton Heston). (This is one of the more fanciful aspects of the plot- the idea that battle-scarred G.I.s would be eager to see a classical music concert instead of Bob Hope or Glenn Miller.) The maestro is conducting a concert in the ruins of bombed out palace when a sudden German bombardment throws everything into chaos. As American troops rush to gather arms, the 70 member orchestra attempts to flee in a bus. They are captured within minutes and taken to an ancient cathedral that serves as the command HQ of German General Schiller (Maximilian Schell). His second-in-command, Col. Arndt (Anton Diffring) has already been executing American prisoners and intends to do the same with the members of the orchestra, despite Evans' protests that they are civilians. Before the execution can take place, their lives are spared by Schiller, who has an appreciation for classical music and who admires Evans, having seen him conduct before the war. Schiller proposes a deal to Evans: he will spare everyone's life if he agrees to stage a private concert for Schiller. Evans, a headstrong, arrogant man, refuses. He suspects that Schiller will kill the musicians anyway and does not want to give him the satisfaction of having them perform for him. A battle of wills begins between two equally stubborn men.

Complicating matters for Evans is the fact that two American soldiers are masquerading as members of the orchestra. Then there is the additional complication of Evans' relationship with cellist Anabelle Rice (Kathryn Hays). The two were once lovers but Annabelle left Evans to marry Victor Rice (Leslie Nielsen), who is Evans' assistant conductor. Evans is still carrying a torch for her and when the troupe is imprisoned in a dank basement within the cathedral, old tensions between the two arise once more. Schiller first tries to woo Evans by treating everyone humanely and ensuring they are comfortable and well-fed. However, he makes it clear that time is running out, as he must join forces at the front line. Ultimately, Evans relents due to pleas from his orchestra members who are on the verge of panic. However, he cautions that they will be killed as soon as the concert ends. He is correct, as Schiller has agreed to turn the orchestra over to Col. Arndt, who has already had a mass grave dug in anticipation of the executions. Evans buys as much time as possible by telling Schiller the troupe needs extensive rehearsals. During this period, he helps the two G.I.'s attempt to escape. He also secures access to a pistol and devises a plan in which the orchestra will resist their executioners and attempt to escape in the bus as soon as Schiller's concert has ended. They will be aided by a small group of Belgian partisans who will launch a diversionary attack. 

"Counterpoint" represented only one in a list of films in which Charlton Heston played characters who were arrogant, conceited and often self-absorbed. (i.e "The War Lord", "Khartoum", "Planet of the Apes", "Number One", "The Hawaiians" ). As Evans, he selfishly risks the lives of dozens of people rather than to lose face in his psychological war of wills with Schiller. Refreshingly, when the final shoot-out takes place, Evans doesn't transform into a typical Heston action hero and it's amusing to watch the future president of the NRA have to be coached in how to use a handgun. The film was shot on the cheap, as so many Universal productions were during this era. Literally every frame was filmed on the studio back lot, but because of the claustrophobic nature of the script, the overall impact isn't diminished by the penny-pinching. Heston gives a powerful performance as one of the more flawed characters he has played and he is quite convincing in scenes in which he conducts the orchestra. He is matched by Maximilan Schell, who is all superficial charm and charisma. Kathryn Hays is quite good as the woman caught between two lovers and Leslie Nielsen reminds us that he was once a good dramatic actor before going the "Naked Gun" route late in his career. Ralph Nelson directs the intelligent screenplay and milks a good deal of tension from certain scenarios and an additional pleasure is hearing classical music played so brilliantly. "Counterpoint" may not be a classic but the unusual nature of the story, combined with the talents of an inspired cast, make it a winner. 

The Blu-ray release boasts a beautiful transfer and an audio commentary by film historians Steve Mitchell and Steven J. Rubin, who seem to be on every WWII video release of recent years. As always, they provide an entertaining and highly informative commentary in terms of both historical events and the making of the film itself. (They reveal that Kathryn Hays was not Heston's choice for leading lady, as her preferred Jessica Walter or Anne Heywood.) The only other bonus feature is the original trailer and a trailer gallery of other KL/Scorpion releases. 

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REVIEW BY LEE PFEIFFER

20^th Century-Fox: Darryl F. Zanuck and the Creation of the Modern Film Studio by Scott Eyman (Running Press/Turner Classic Movies) $28, 304 pages, Illustrated (Colour & B&W), Hardback, ISBN ‎978-0762470938

Scott Eyman has authored high profile biographies of numerous screen legends including John Wayne, James Stewart, John Ford, Louis B. Mayer and Cary Grant. Now, Eyman sets out to examine the career of another larger-than-life Hollywood icon, Darryl F. Zanuck. There’s plenty of fertile ground to examine, too, as the mercurial producer had a long, dramatic career that could have formed the basis of one of his films. He saved the fledgling Fox film corporation early in his career then became the tyrannical head of its subsequent incarnation, 20^th-Century Fox. Over the decades, Zanuck would be feared and despised, rarely liked, but always respected as his early knack for creating hits was legendary.

Zanuck on the set of his 1962 WWII epic, "The Longest Day."

How tough was he? On the set of The Longest Day, he publicly humiliated John Wayne for making an offensive remark about the French. Now, that’s tough. Eyman follows his life through the many highs and lows, from being dismissed from Fox only to be called back to stave the red ink from Cleopatra. The new glory years were followed by disaster due to Zanuck backing money-losing roadshow productions in the 1960s and 1970s. He also famously battled for control of the studio with his own son Richard, all the while still chasing women who were young enough to be his granddaughter. The book provides some fascinating insights into the Zanuck's track record. Despite some major hits such as Patton, Planet of the Apes and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, the majority of their productions proved to be money losers, resulting in Zanuck passing the blame to Richard and backing the board in firing his own son. All you need to know about Zanuck's persona is that a previous biography of him, published in the 1980s by Mel Gussow, was titled "Don't Say Yes Until I Finish Talking".  It all makes for a highly compelling read that you will find difficult to put down.

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Relive Charlton Heston's appearance as host of "Saturday Night Live" in 1993 with this clever spoof of "Planet of the Apes".

LOW STOCKS!

HIGHLIGHTS OF ISSUE #27 INCLUDE:

• Don L. Stradley examines the dramatic life and career of Lolita star Sue Lyon
• John Exshaw's unpublished interview with screen legend Peter Cushing
• Adrian Smith interviews Hugh Hudson, director of Revolution and Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes
• Dean Brierly looks at classic Japanese crime movies
• Stephen C. Jilks celebrates the Hammer horror flick Curse of the Werewolf
• David Savage examines Liz Taylor's little-seen, late career bizarro cult movie The Driver's Seat
• Howard Hughes continues his history of Oakmont Productions with Submarine X-1 starring James Caan
• Paul Thomson provides in-depth coverage of the Amicus Edgar Rice Burroughs film adaptations The Land That Time Forgot, At the Earth's Core and The People That Time Forgot and reviews the long-forgotten electric rock Western Zachariah
• Remember Ray Harryhausen
• Raymond Benson's top ten films of 1986
• Lee Pfeiffer's Take Two column looks back on The Valachi Papers starring Charles Bronson
• Burt Reynolds underrated dark comedy The End is re-evaluated by Tim Greaves
• Gareth Owen's Pinewood Past column features Reach for the Sky starring Kenneth More
• Plus the latest film book, soundtrack and DVD reviews. 

CINEMA RETRO ISSUE #27

CINEMA RETRO ISSUE #27 $30.00 USD

“ANOTHER ‘FORBIDDEN FRUIT’ EXPLOITATION RELIC”

By Raymond Benson

Here’s another one, folks! Another entry in the “Forbidden Fruit: The Golden Age of the Exploitation Picture” series, this time it’s Volume 8. Presented by Kino Lorber in association with Something Weird Video, we have for your pleasure the controversial “hoax” documentary, Ingagi (1930), a shocking example of racism and circus sideshow-style cinematic exhibition.

There have always existed what have been termed in the motion picture industry “exploitation films,” even back in the silent days. The 1930s and much of the 1940s, however, saw a deluge of cheap, not-even-“B” pictures made, usually independently of Hollywood and marketed in guerilla fashion as “educational” adult fare. You know the type. Reefer Madness. Child Bride. Mom and Dad (all previous titles released in the Forbidden Fruit series).

Kino Lorber and Something Weird have been doing a bang-up job on releasing some of the best (i.e., infamous) of these jaw-dropping pieces of celluloid. Most are so bad that they’re hilariously entertaining, and they especially elicit eye-rolling because they often portend to be “instructive” in nature.

Ingagi was marketed as a documentary, which, by definition, claims to be a truthful depiction of real events. Well, a gullible American audience of the year 1930 actually swallowed this carnival act, because the independently made and distributed picture grossed $4 million—and in 1930 dollars, that was a monstrous amount of cash. The movie, however, was attacked by the Motion Picture Producers and Distributors Association, a Hollywood organization that attempted to ban the film. There were indeed court cases, but it was the Federal Trade Commission that finally forced the production company, Congo Pictures, to either come clean and stop duping the public with assertations that what the movie contains is real—or withdraw it from exhibition. As a result, Ingagi disappeared for years until it was bought and resold a couple of times and finally ended up in the hands of Dwain Esper. Esper, one of the foremost practitioners of the exploitation film, redistributed Ingagi in the late 1940s as the scandalous and sensational movie it is… and the thing continued to make money. Ingagi eventually vanished again for decades… until now.

It’s allegedly the footage of an African exhibition led by “Sir Hubert Winstead.” The explorer and his team go on safari and hunt and kill exotic animals for 3/4 of the picture. If that wasn’t disgusting enough, the final quarter is about the “discovery” of a primitive race that worships ingagi (the Rwandan word for “gorilla”). The tribe sacrifices a woman every year to the ingagi, who mate with the human females to produce, uhm, half-human/half-gorilla creatures.

Right. Now you know why the film was banned.

When one excavates the production history of the film, we learn that the whole thing was a hoax to cheat the American moviegoer out of an admission fee. According to both Kelly Robinson and Bret Wood, narrators on two separate audio commentary tracks, 3/4 of the movie is actually stolen material from a 1915 silent movie, Heart of Africa, which documented a real safari—but for some reason that picture was never even completed and is lost. That existing footage, however, was hijacked by “Congo Pictures.” The remaining 1/4 of the movie was shot in Hollywood with actors. African-Americans were cast as stereotypical Tarzan-style natives, and men in gorilla suits portrayed the apes. The lead ingagi is played by Charles Gemora, arguably the most prolifically employed actor in a gorilla suit.

One major clue to the lack of authenticity is that the narrator of the picture, the supposed Sir Hubert Winstead, mispronounces ingagi throughout the movie. He pronounces the middle syllable vowel of the word as “gag,” whereas it’s supposed to be pronounced like “gog.”

As commentator Robinson tells us, the real appeal of going to see Ingagi was to view “gorilla sex,” i.e., naked “native women” who are about to have sex with gorillas. We don’t ever see that happen, but it’s implied. We do see naked “native women,” and that’s where the picture gets its exploitation and racist reputation.

Kino Lorber’s high-definition presentation of this relic is amazingly good. A featurette in the supplements details the restoration process that was undertaken. The only other supplements are the interesting and informed audio commentaries by Robinson and Wood, and trailers for other titles in the series.

Ingagi will appeal to fans of the Something Weird series, exploitation films, and cinema curiosities. Hey, it’s “movie history”—in fact, a print of Ingagi resides in the Library of Congress as a testament to its infamous standing. Ungawa!

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In 1969, there wasn't a category to honor achievement in Makeup at the annual Oscars telecast. However, so impressive was John Chambers' work on "Planet of the Apes", that the Academy honored him with a special Oscar- and it was presented by Walter Matthau and an appropriate surprise guest star!

(In our new column, Author Insights, Cinema Retro periodically invites authors of film-related books to provide our readers with the background story relating to their latest publication.)

BY JIM NEMETH

It Came From … The Stories and Novels Behind Classic Horror, Fantasy and Science Fiction Films (Midnight Marquee Press) came about when I and my co-author, Bob Madison, started discussing the many movie classics that find their origins in genre fiction. Both of us grew up loving science fiction, fantasy and horror films. Like many genre movie buffs, we frequently sought out the books and stories that influenced our favorite movies, often surprised (if not amazed) at the differences. Though born in different states and a few, scant years apart, our boyhoods were remarkably similar. Spending our youth on such Saturday night television fare as Creature Features and Thriller Theater, we made imaginative quests into worlds very different from our own. Where I gravitated toward supernatural fiction, Bob dug deeply into literary science fiction. Both of us became devoted readers of genre fiction and then, later on, the history of it. The love for movies, though, never wavered.

Over the years, when considering cinema reference books, particularly those covering films within the horror, science fiction and fantasy genres adapted from other mediums, we found scant attention paid to the literary sources. It’s frustrating to pore through a reference book and find little more concerning the inspiration behind such films than the credit one finds in the film: “Based on the novel XXXXX, by so-and-so.”

And so, It Came From… was born.

The book consists of 21 essays covering everything from Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory to Planet of the Apes to, of course, Psycho. In the essays we shine a deserved spotlight on the authors and screenwriters, detail the many challenges found in adaptation, and outline why some films do it better than others. For clarity’s sake, we break the films into three categories—horror, fantasy, science fiction—and then simply list them chronologically. Each chapter is the sole work of one of the authors, with the ringer being special chapters devoted to Dracula and the Frankenstein Monster, where we both delve into not just one, but several of the best, worst, and most popular of their cinematic incarnations.

The initial dream for this volume was a comprehensive history that traced and compared films adapted from other material back to its origins. But such was not to be! The number of science fiction, fantasy and horror films that are adaptations from other media are so varied and repetitive that the challenge was confining ourselves to just a handful of favorite films. And even here, we deliberately excluded—with a handful of exceptions—high-profile obvious choices such as The Shining and 2001: A Space Odyssey, in favor of films that are underserved in genre criticism. But, as should be obvious to any fan of cinema—sequels happen. Perhaps one day in the future we will tackle our remaining favorites.

Meanwhile, we hope readers will sit back, dim the lights a bit and enjoy. And just ignore those pesky moans coming from under your bed and the scratching sounds you hear from inside the walls…

BOO!

— Jim Nemeth (Member, Horror Writers Association)

— Bob Madison (author of American Horror Writers (2000), and Dracula: The First Hundred Years (1997; ed.)

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BY DARREN ALLISON

“Light into Ink: A Critical Survey of 50 Film Novelizations” [DeLuxe Edition]: [Colour Interior] by S.M. Guariento. Publisher: Independently published. Softback: 480 pages, ISBN-10: 1687489084 ISBN-13: 978-1687489081, Product Dimensions: 20.3 x 2.8 x 25.4 cm, price £39.99

As most film fans would concur, the humble film ‘tie-in’ paperback, or if you would prefer, novelisation – was pretty much an essential element for movie lovers. Perhaps ‘tie-in’ is a somewhat dated term these days, but it still relates to the same thing - a book whose jacket, packaging, contents, or promotion relates to a feature film or a television show. Back in the day, the paperback novelisation had a magnetic effect, usually because it contained the wonderful film artwork or an iconic photo of its star in a scene from the movie. They proved quite irresistible and the newsagent’s rotary stands were often the place to find many treasurers. However, it was also a little piece of collecting history that hadn’t really been examined to any great depth – until now.

S.M. Guariento’s book is an excellent examination of 50 such books. The London-born author provides a detailed case study of various genres. In his research, Guariento doesn’t skip or avoid and leaves no stone unturned. He examines the evolution of the softback, particularly from its 1950s explosion where the paperback began being a preference over that of the hardback equivalent. It’s an excellent historical journey and it’s a great education in how it all evolved. However, there is no escaping the overriding appeal of their presentation and the genuine pulling power of their lush and varied cover art.

Guariento provides some glorious memories with the turn of each page, delving into TV titles such as Target’s Doctor Who, Bantam’s Star Trek and Futura’s Space 1999 – all of which contained heart racing cover imagery.

The book’s subtitle ‘50 Film Novelizations’ can perhaps be easily misinterpreted and arguably underrates this book’s mammoth amount of content. In terms of subject genres, Guariento hits the sweet spot every single time. In his chapter selections he has chosen very wisely, covering Eastwood, Bond, Planet of the Apes, Horror, Sci-fi, Hammer, Crime, Spy – in fact, everything that is both engaging and appealing to a key audience. Other chapters focus more specifically, such as cult filmmakers (including David Cronenberg and John Carpenter) and the adaptations of their various films. Most importantly, do not be misled into thinking that 50 film novelisations simply equates to 50 cover illustrations. The book also serves as a spectacular pictorial treasury with hundreds of covers featured - either related within the context of a chapter or shown as different or alternative editions of certain titles. Guariento certainly has this covered. This book is practically a dream.

Despite the glowing praise I’m happy to bestow upon this book, readers should also take note - and it’s a very important note: Guariento’s book does come in two very different versions. The version submitted for the purposes of this review is, in fact, the deluxe edition, meaning simply that all images contained within its pages are presented in stunning colour.

However, the book is also available in a Midnight Edition, which is identical in terms of content except that its pages consist of monochrome (b/w) images. I also know I can speak for a great number of similar minded colleagues and friends who will find this somewhat disappointing. For me, it practically punctured the heart of the book and its overall enjoyment. For people who grew up with these books, seeing them reproduced in black and white simply diminishes the retrospective element of its joy. Of course, it does provide a more affordable (£14.99) alternative. Nevertheless, given the books’ subject, it does slightly contradict what the book originally sets out to celebrate.

There’s very little doubt about it, ‘Light into Ink’ is an exceptionally detailed, well produced and yes, a beautifully illustrated book. But just be aware; make sure you know exactly which edition you are ordering should you choose to indulge further. If it’s entirely possible, make every effort towards the deluxe colour edition, I can promise you – you’ll be very glad you went the extra yard.

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Paramount Home Video has released a new Blu-ray special edition of Cecil B. DeMille’s epic “The Ten Commandments”. The set includes both the director’s original silent film version as well as his 1956 blockbuster remake starring Charlton Heston as Moses. To commemorate the release of the video, Cinema Retro Editor-in-Chief Lee Pfeiffer caught up with filmmaker Fraser C. Heston to discuss the impact of the movie on his father’s career. (An interesting footnote: Fraser Heston is seen in the film as baby Moses, thus, both father and son played the same character.)

Cinema Retro: Your father first worked for Cecil B. DeMille on The Greatest Show on Earth. Would you say he is the singular most important person responsible for your father’s rise to fame?

Fraser C. Heston: Absolutely. My father was on the Paramount lot and he waved at Mr. DeMille. He had been on the lot for some other audition and he saw Mr. DeMille by the gate and said, “Hello, Mr. DeMille” before driving off the lot. Mr. DeMille asked his secretary, “Who was that guy?” She said, “Oh, that’s Charlton Heston. I think you met him before and you didn’t think much of him.” But DeMille said, “Well, I think he’s an interesting guy. Why don’t you have him over and I’ll meet with him?” He ends up offering him the part of the circus manager in The Greatest Show on Earth and it ends up winning the Academy Award for Best Picture. Then he tells him to come back for another meeting- he doesn’t even tell him what the part is- and says, “I’m going to make The Ten Commandments.” He shows him models and paintings all afternoon and gets him all excited but he doesn’t offer him a part. He just says, “I’ll bring you back in a week or two.” He ended up asking him, “How would you like to play Moses?” The rest is history, as they say.

CR: Was your father intimidated by playing such an historic character?

FH: No, I think he embraced the challenge. He obviously didn’t have to play him from a baby, as that was my job! But he did have to play him as a young man right up through when he had that white beard at the end of the movie, however old Moses was at that point. He also had the challenge of going from an Egyptian prince to a slave to the leader of his people- and to do it in a way that perhaps wasn’t as stylized as some of the DeMille epics. That film, I think, stands the test of time. The reason for that, I think, is the fantastic cast. Look at Yul Brynner’s performance, for example. I can’t imagine anyone else playing Ramses.

CR: I’m trying to remember if your father and Brynner ever worked together again…

FH: They did on The Buccaneer, which was produced by DeMille and directed by his son-in-law, Anthony Quinn. Not as good a film, obviously, but still a classic. Some interesting trivia- if I live long enough, since I was the youngest actor on the set of The Ten Commandments, I will be the last actor in Hollywood who worked with Cecil B. DeMille.

(Photo copyright Fraser C. Heston, 2019.) 

CR: I was recently revisiting your father’s wonderful book “The Actor’s Life”, which consists of the daily diary entries he kept when shooting films and discovered that, unfortunately, he began this habit only after The Ten Commandments has wrapped, though he does discuss post-production work on the movie. But he does write, “If you can’t make a career out of two DeMille pictures, you’d better turn in your suit.” He also writes, “Our son Fraser was born while we were shooting The Ten Commandments. He played the infant Moses at the age of three months and immediately retired, displaying an acute judgment of the acting profession.”

FH: (Laughing) Well, I think I felt a little pressure from my dad not to follow in his footsteps.

CR: Well, many offspring of iconic actors have followed in their footsteps with varying degrees of success. Were you ever tempted to do so?

FH: I think I was but I was discouraged by my mom and dad. I mean Michael Douglas pulled it off and a couple of other father-and-son acting teams pulled it off but I think my parents knew how tough it would be to follow in my dad’s footsteps. I started out in a different aspects of films. I started out as a writer and discovered I liked writing screenplays. I got a couple of things made and from there I started producing and then directing. So I came at filmmaking more from the storyteller’s point-of-view. I consider myself, even if I’m directing, to be a storyteller. That’s a director’s job.

CR: When was the first time you remember seeing The Ten Commandments?

FH: I was probably about five and it was pretty terrifying, you know between the Burning Bush and the destruction of Pharaoh’s army when the Red Sea collapses…and oh, my God…

CR: …and let’s not forget the presence of the great Vincent Price…

FH: Yes, the evil Vincent Price and Yvonne De Carlo and Yul Brynner and everybody. It was just fantastic. How could you have seen that as a young person and not been blown away by it all and be terribly impressed? I think everyone had that experience the first time they saw it. People in our generation were young when it came out and that was their first experience with an epic film. I think you have to place the film in a larger pool of epics associated with my father along with Ben-Hur, El Cid and to a certain degree, Planet of the Apes that culminated in films like Gladiator. You can even go so far as The Avengers series, which are giant modern epics. I think DeMille started it all. When you think of spectacle, you think of C.B. DeMille. When you think of C.B. DeMille, you think of The Ten Commandments, right?

CR: I’ve always said that if you didn’t like the way he directed actors, you had to admire the way he directed traffic in films that large…

FH: (Laughs) So true!

CR: I recall you once telling me that in the Heston household, DeMille was a revered name.

FH: He was. My dad always called him Mr. DeMille, never C.B. We still have the telegram he sent my mom and when I was born saying, “Congratulations, he’s got the part.” I’m looking at a picture on my wall right now. It’s a photo of me at age four or five being held in my dad’s arms and reaching out and tweaking Mr. DeMille’s nose.

BY HANK REINEKE

The best moments of John Lemont’s giant-ape movie Konga (1961) come courtesy via the manic performance of the great Michael Gough. As the maddest of all crazed botanists, Gough’s deranged Charles Decker is exactly what we B-movie enthusiasts want in our mad scientist – he’s nothing if not completely batty and bonkers. The actor was presumably a favorite of producer Herman Cohen, the Yank film executive utilizing Gough’s services in such British thrillers as Horrors of the Black Museum (1959), Konga, and The Black Zoo (1963). The aforementioned trio of shockers are not, for all of their intermittent charms, representative of Cohen’s best (read “schlockiest”) work. But they’re OK.

In association with A.I.P. in the U.S., Cohen had already given us a number of iconic Silver-Age horror and sci-fi B-movie classics with I Was a Teenage Frankenstein and I Was a Teenage Werewolf (both 1957). While Konga is not among Cohen’s better efforts, the film certainly never falls short of being dependably wacky and memorable in its unspooling. If you are the forgiving type who enjoys this sort of entertainment, there’s still a lot of fun to be had. That is as long as you’re willing to compromise your personal integrities and to shut down both your critical and mental faculties for ninety-minutes or so.

In Konga, Michael Gough plays Charles Decker, a preeminent British botanist and lecturer at London’s prestigious Essex College. While on expedition in Africa, Decker’s biplane goes missing somewhere over Uganda, the aerial crash killing the pilot upon impact. Decker somehow has managed to bail out of the plane in the seconds preceding the crash. He even – quite improbably - has the wits about him to parachute to safety while cradling a cumbersome 16mm film camera. The scientist is found broken and dazed in the jungle brush by a chimpanzee named Konga. The simian kindly leads him to the guardianship and protection of the Baganda’s, described here as a primitive, mystical tribe distantly related to the Bantu. While this preamble sounds very much like an exciting jump start to the film, we’re – disappointingly - not privy to witnessing any of it as it unfolds. The preceding action is all explained to us second-hand during a cost-saving recount delivered during one of Decker’s classroom sessions.

Though the scientific community presumed Decker had perished in the Ugandan crash, the scientist actually used his time in the jungle studiously. Over the course of a year, he carefully absorbed the methodologies of the tribal witchdoctor who mastered the mysteries of both serum-induced hypnotism and of the insectivorous plant life that grew abundantly in the region. When Decker finally returns with great fanfare to London, he’s consumed by the belief that there’s an as-of-yet-unexplored evolutionary link between plant and human life. The more sober Dean of Essex College disagrees and demands that Decker stop embarrassing the institution with such witchdoctor-inspired nonsense.

With a grudge, Decker is about to prove his skeptics wrong. He converts his backyard greenhouse into a monstrous habitat for flesh-eating plants. (There’s actually more of Roger Corman’s The Little Shop of Horrors (1960) than King Kong on display here in Konga). The botanist is assisted by his amorous if sexually frustrated assistant Margaret (Margo Johns). She is tasked to see that the environment of the glass-enclosed building is kept at exactly ninety-degrees with the appropriate amount of humidity and moisture maintained. This is to best replicate the steamy Ugandan climate so that his carnivorous plants can bloom healthfully.

Though Margaret has been a faithful “secretary, lab assistant, and housekeeper” to Dr. Decker – even having kept up his basement laboratory in the year-long absence when he was presumed dead – he seems little interested in having her as a paramour or wife. “There’s very little room for sentiment in the life of a scientist,” he tells her with a cold sniff. While we have already been clued that Decker is a driven, uncompromising and humorless loner, he nonetheless demonstrates little reserve in his creepy pursuit of Sandra (Claire Gordon), one of his comely teenage students at Essex. This romance goes unrequited as well. Then again, it really had no chance to blossom… especially following Decker’s clumsy attempt to sexually assault the girl amidst his monstrous garden of flesh-eating plants. It would be fair to presume Decker’s teaching career would surely not have survived the scrutiny and retribution of the present #metoo movement.

But this is now and that was then. While this is a fun popcorn-munching movie and a personal guilty pleasure to many, few would argue it’s a work of cinematic art. Even among devotees of this already odd “Giant Ape” genre, Konga is often the subject of winking, good-natured ridicule. Attending a matinee double-bill of Konga and Master of the World upon its release in 1962, New York Times critic Eugene Archer noted the assembled audience of ten-year-olds, “greeted Konga with misplaced guffaws,” while according the Vincent Price film “a smattering of applause.”

Not coming to a theater near you: the original "Planet of the Apes".

BY LEE PFEIFFER

It's no secret to retro movie lovers that Disney has long denied theatrical screenings of most of their older films. The theory is that some classic gems will generate more interest (and revenue) if they are periodically reissued with great fanfare to commemorate a movie's anniversary. That mostly pertains to a handful of animated movies but doesn't explain why the studio's vast catalog of live-action films are routinely denied exhibition on the big screen. Now the situation appears to be exponentially worse with Disney's acquisition of Fox and its classic movie catalog. In an extensive piece on the web site Vulture, writer Matt Zoller Seitz presents a grim situation facing art house and revival cinemas: Disney is cherry-picking where and how some of the most beloved Fox classics of all time will be screened. The scattershot strategy defies easy explanation but the theory is that theaters that show first run movies will not be allowed to show retro Fox movies in the same venue. Disney has remained mum on the issue but theater owners are quite concerned because the interest in seeing older films on the big screen is quite extensive and such revivals are crucial to many smaller theater's survival. What is Disney's overall motive? It is theorized that the studio wants to maximize as many screens as possible in first-run theaters in order to minimize exhibition space for films of rival studios. There are exceptions. Theaters and film festivals that play exclusively older fare will apparently still be able to access the Fox catalog. However, many theaters can only continue to exist by playing a mixture of contemporary and classic fare. Disney now owns most of the major blockbuster film franchises (agent 007 remains a notable holdout) and last year the studio's films accounted for a staggering 40% of the North American boxoffice. Suppressing screenings of cinematic classics will only increase concerns that the house of Mickey Mouse is misusing its power and the unintended consequences might include threatening the survival of some theaters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BY TIM GREAVES

It’s been three years since ‘American Horror Project’ was unleashed. Comprising an eclectic gathering of indie curios from the 1970s, the fact it was announced as Volume 1 led to much anticipation as to what future collections might serve up.

Well, Arrow Video has finally issued Volume 2. It’s been a long wait. Was it worth it? For those whose passions run to the sort of weird, otherworldly slices of 70s small-town America represented by the first, the answer would be a resounding yes. But, as before, for a more general audience it’s unlikely to harbour much appeal. Regardless, whether you think they’re deserving of Blu-ray resurrection or not, all power to Arrow – and ringmaster of this circus of the bizarre, film historian Stephen Thrower – for rescuing these micro-budget productions from the bowels of obscurity, giving them a wash and brush up and setting them free back into a world that for better or worse had long forgotten them. Someone somewhere is sure going to love them.

All three titles in the set are brand new 2k restorations from the original film elements, and some infrequent patches of heavy grain notwithstanding – really only distracting in darker sequences – they look absolutely fantastic.

So what exactly do we get this time? Opening with 1970s Dream No Evil, we move on to 1976’s Dark August and conclude with 1977’s The Child. All three films are thematically linked, however tenuously, in that in each it is a child who’s the catalyst for the terrors that ensue. In the first they’re born of a little girl’s desperately unhappy childhood, in the second the product of an accidental death, and in the third it’s vengeful death wrought upon those around her by a precocious teenager.

Dream No Evil

A former orphan, Grace (Brooke Mills), now assistant to a charlatan travelling fire and brimstone preacher, Rev Bundy (wild-eyed Michael Pataki), is fixated on locating her real father. Not only is Grace convinced she’ll find him but that when she does he’ll welcome her back into his life with open arms. Her inadvisable quest leads her down a path of self-destruction and she descends into madness.

Though everything is subjective, writer-director John Hayes’ film isn’t so much horror as it is bleak drama… exceedingly bleak. If the forlorn pre-titles sequence doesn’t alert you to that, then Jaime Mendoza-Nava’s gently melancholic credits music reinforces the notion. A couple of slasher movie tropes aside – and even they are rendered mundane in their bloodlessness – the real draw here is former Oscar-winner (for The Barefoot Contessa) Edmond O’Brien, overweight and overacting on the fag end of a prodigious career; it’s a car crash performance from which it’s impossible to avert your eyes. Still, it’s nice to see Marc “I didn’t know there was a pool, down there” Lawrence, dressed almost exactly as he appears in his two Bond roles (Diamonds Are Forever and The Man with the Golden Gun), as a seedy mortician rather than a hoodlum.

With some dispassionate narration thrown in, presumably to keep you up to speed if you’ve zoned out during its leisurely pace, Dream No Evil’s key conceit has been worked countless times; if you keep in mind that what you’re seeing is what Grace is seeing, not necessarily what’s real, then there won’t be too many surprises ahead.

Bonus features on the disc are an appreciation and a look at the director’s prior career by Thrower, an audio commentary from writers Kat Ellinger and Samm Deighan, and a segment devoted to dear old O’Brien.

Dark August

In a small backwoods town a little girl is accidentally killed when she runs into the road without looking, following which the driver of the vehicle (J J Barry) has a death curse sworn upon him by the child’s grandfather.

Although Planet of the Apes star Kim Hunter as a psychic medium is probably the main draw here, what makes it worth sticking around for is J J Barry. A slow burn drama helmed by former director of commercials Martin Goldman, Barry’s sincere, committed performance lends the supernatural shrouding a bit of gravitas. The irksome score at the outset (courtesy William S Fischer) does its darnedest to dissuade the intolerant, but it’s worth hanging in there; it may be the least interesting constituent of the set, but it does evolve into something rather compelling.

Goldman not only directed, but also co-wrote and co-produced, and much like bedmate Dream No Evil it isn’t really a horror film. I’d label it chiller-lite with a couple of wince-inducing moments tossed in, the most effective being when a character slips and carves up his leg with a handsaw (even though the subsequent blood spill is of the day-glo paint variety).

Shot in Vermont, Richard E Brooks’ beautiful cinematography balances out the overall oppressive mien, and if the finale is a tad anticlimactic it isn’t excessively injurious.

Bonus features are a couple of appreciation pieces (one by Thrower, the other from writer and artist Stephen R Bissette), interviews with Goldman and his co-producer Marianne Kanter, and a commentary from Goldman.

The Child

Embittered over the death of her mother, a teenage girl, Rosalie (Rosalie Cole), uses her psychic powers to reanimate a battalion of corpses from a graveyard, willing them to carry out her twisted campaign of vengeance upon those she deems responsible.

In terms of exploitation terrors this tasty number from director Robert Voskanian is where we hit pay dirt, it’s the diamond in the rough. Yes, the dialogue – evidently post-dubbed, and badly at that – is stilted and the acting in general is wooden enough to drill holes in, but it’s the only title in the collection that engenders any real suspense and it boasts a supremely grungy vibe.

Taking a little while to gain momentum, once it does it delivers the goods with several suitably impressive set pieces and a bunch of effectively creepy zombies. Gory when it needs to be – albeit all pretty unrealistic looking by today’s standards – it builds up a decent head of steam for a climax in which the survivors take refuge in an old barn, barricading themselves in to fend off a full-on assault by the undead.

Also known as Zombie Child and (this writer’s favourite) Kill and Go Hide, skewed camera angles and a disorienting score – one moment melodic piano recital material, the next a series of peculiar electronic bleeps and bloops – all add to the sense that Voskanian was a fledgling talent with so much more to offer, making it a crying shame to note that (for reasons outlined in the supplements on the disc) this was to be his sole feature.

Said supplements consist of an appreciation from Thrower, an interview with (and commentary from) Voskanian and producer Robert Dadashian, plus an original theatrical trailer. There are two viewing options on the feature itself, a 1.33:1 presentation and a 1.78:1; though not the most aesthetically pleasing choice, the former opens up the frame significantly to reveal more picture both top and bottom.

‘American Horror Project’ Volume 2 comes with a limited edition 60-page collectors’ booklet, and each individually cased film has a reversible sleeve bearing original and newly commissioned artwork.

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BY JOHN M. WHALEN

If you’ve ever read one of Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Tarzan novels, you know that there has always been a big difference between Tarzan as he is in the movies versus Tarzan in the books. For some reason Hollywood has never really been able to get the character exactly right. As much fun as the Johnny Weissmuller and Lex Barker Tarzan movies are, for example, they really didn’t get close to Burroughs’ concept of the ape man. The real Tarzan didn’t speak Pidgin English for one thing. He actually spoke fluent English and French. He was as at home in an English Tea Room as the son of a British Lord, as he was in the prehistoric land of Pal-ul-don. While the movies showed Tarzan as protector of the animals, and friends with cute chimpanzees, in the books Burroughs present a world where death usually came on four feet, although man was often the most treacherous enemy. It was a jungle out there, and it was survival of the fittest, baby.

In 2016, Warner Bros. attempted to restart the Tarzan series with the $180 million “The Legend of Tarzan.” The film made double its budget at the box office worldwide, but it didn’t excite audiences or studio heads enough to continue with a sequel. So it looks like Tarzan will be on sabbatical for a while. Part of the reason for the film’s failure was the script’s presentation of Tarzan. They got the outer dimensions of the character right, but included too many politically correct ideas that weakened the Burroughs concept. For one thing, Tarzan lost too many fights, with both humans and apes. You don’t get to be King of the Jungle by losing fights. But I think it was the total reliance on CGI to create Tarzan’s Africa that was the main reason for the film’s failure. Except for the occasional aerial footage shot over the jungles of Gabon, the entire film was shot on sound stages in England. The movie lacked the reality that a fantasy like Tarzan needs to be believable.

Which brings me to the subject of this review. In the opinion of most true Tarzan fans there has only ever been one Tarzan film that really captures what Tarzan is all about. It’s not perfect, but it’s probably the closest they’ll ever get. In 1959, producer Sy Weintraub took over the Tarzan franchise from Sol Lesser after it was moved to Paramount Pictures. Weintraub injected the series with new energy and new ideas. He wanted to make an “adult” Tarzan flick and he wanted to shoot on location in Kikuyu, Kenya.

He hired a top flight cast of British actors to play the villains in the piece. Anthony Quayle, whose acting experience ranged from potboilers to Shakespeare, was cast as the main villain, Slade, an escaped con and old enemy of Tarzan. Next up, none other than 007 himself, Sean Connery, in an early role as O’Bannion, a tough Irish gunman, who, being too young for the Irish Rebellion, decides there are no causes worth fighting for because “They don’t pay well.” Next is Nial MacGiniss as Kruger, a German diamond expert who doesn’t want to be reminded of the old days of the Third Reich. Al Muloch plays Dino, captain of the boat the gang is riding up river, who has a strange attachment to a locket he wears around his neck. And finally, Italian actress Scilla Gabel as Toni, Slade’s girl. There’s plenty of internal conflict and tension among these five on board a small jungle boat as it makes its way up river to a diamond mine.

The film starts with the theft of explosives from a compound run by a doctor friend of Tarzan’s. The gang needs the gelignite to excavate a diamond mine located upriver, just north of Tarzan’s tree house. It’s interesting to note that the script by Berne Giler is based on a story written by Les Crutchfield, a veteran writer who wrote 81 Gunsmoke radio scripts, and was himself an explosives expert and a mining engineer before he started writing. Explosives figure prominently in the plot.

BY LEE PFEIFFER

Any retro movie lover would be forgiven for thinking there would be a multitude of pleasures in The Great Scout and Cathouse Thursday, a 1976 Western comedy top-lining such considerable talents as Lee Marvin, Oliver Reed, Robert Culp, Kay Lenz, Elizabeth Ashley, Sylvia Miles and the always watchable Strother Martin. Sadly, the film is a complete misfire with nary a true guffaw to be found throughout. The movie is directed by Don Taylor, who helmed some fairly good films including Escape From the Planet of the Apes, Damien: Omen II and The Final Countdown. However, comedy is not Taylor's strong suit, as evidenced by the over-the-top elements of the movie. The quasi plot finds Marvin as Sam Longwood, an eccentric plainsman who is partnered with Indian Joe Knox (Oliver Reed) and  Billy (Strother Martin) in an attempt to track down their former partner Jack Colby (Robert Culp) who fled with the haul the gold hoarde the four men had discovered years before. Colby has used the stolen loot to establish himself as a respectable politician. Sam, Joe and Billy concoct a scheme whereby they will blackmail Colby into returning their share of the money by kidnapping his wife Nancy Sue (Elizabeth Ashley), a loud-mouthed and obnoxious woman who has had romantic ties to Sam in the past. For reasons far too labored to go into, the trio of men are also accompanied by a seventeen year-old prosititute named Thursday (Kay Lenz) who is seeking to escape the clutches of her former madam (Sylvia Miles).

The film has boundless energy but the non-screenplay leads the characters to dead-ends. Taylor inserts numerous slapstick comedy bits that bring out the worst in Marvin, as he goes into his over-acting mode routinely. Most embarrassing is the bizarre casting of Reed as a Native American. Cursed by having to wear a mop-haired wig and grunting "Me Tarzan, You Jane"-style dialogue, Reed does the most harm to the image of the Indian since the massacre at Wounded Knee. The film lurches from extended fistfights to boring chase sequences, all designed to mask over the fact that the script is a bland, pasted together conconction. There is also a jaunty musical score by John Cameron that is played almost non-stop, causing you to keep the remote on "mute" mode. The only people to emerge relatively unscathed are Lenz, Culp and Martin, who provided whatever wit and charm the film boasts. On paper, the project probably looked promising, but in terms of any genuine laughs...well, they went that-a-way.

Kino Lorber has released the film on Blu-ray with a good transfer and an abundance of trailers (including one for this movie) that prove to be far more entertaining than the main feature. 

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Left to right: Stars Dwayne Johnson, Naomie Harris, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Malin Akerman, Joe Manganiello and director Brad Peyton at the Warner Bros. junket. (Photo: copyright Mark Cerulli. All rights reserved.)

BY MARK CERULLI

Back when he used to wrestle for the WWE, Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson would ask, “Can you smell what The Rock is cooking?” Well, his latest big screen blowout, Rampage smells a lot like jet fuel – there are more smashed planes and helicopters in this film than in ten Godzilla movies combined.

Based on the 1980s video game of the same name, the big screen version features not one, not two, but THREE hyper-deadly creatures making a beeline for downtown Chicago. Johnson plays a zoo primatologist who prefers animals to people, reluctantly teaming with a lovely geneticist (Naomie Harris) to stop them. Although Johnson is the movie’s star, he shares the screen with an even bigger hero: a massive gorilla named “George”. “They’re a lot alike,” director Brad Peyton said, “They’re both funny, they’re both alpha males and they’re both the biggest guy in every room.” Rampage is Johnson’s third collaboration with Peyton, who previously directed him in San Andreas and Journey 2: Mysterious Island. Ahead of the film’s debut, Warner Bros staged an elaborate press junket at a Hollywood studio where key cast and crewmembers talked about the film…

“The conceit of this idea is a ridiculous one, “Johnson told the assembled crowd of reporters, “Three gigantic monsters destroying the city of Chicago… we took a lot of swings at it to make it fun and give the story an anchor in heart and soul, which is my relationship with my best friend – this rare, gigantic albino gorilla.”

(Photo: copyright Mark Cerulli. All rights reserved.)

“We wanted to make a monster movie that would stand the test of time,” Johnson continued. “There’s been a lot of great ones – King Kong, Godzilla, even Jurassic Park I’d include – so we wanted to raise the bar, even a little bit and anchor it in a relationship.” Since George, the gorilla, exhibits many human-like qualities and has a deep bond with Johnson’s character, he goes all out to save him from the inevitable military hardware brought out to take the huge ape down. Special note should be made of the remarkable visuals created by New Zealand-based Weta Digital, which has a long history of creating amazing effects in blockbusters like Avatar, Justice League and War For The Planet Of The Apes.

 (Photo courtesy Warner Bros.)

The film gives Naomie Harris – who Cinema Retro readers know as Moneypenny in the Daniel Craig Bonds – a chance to get out of MI6 to dodge falling buildings and gigantic creatures, an experience that was well out of her acting comfort zone: “This was reacting to tennis balls and I was absolutely terrified,” Harris says with a laugh, referring to the weeks of complex green screen work she had to do to dodge said giant monsters. Luckily, her amiable co-star came to the rescue: “I had to lean on Dwayne, he’s the master of this and I was completely lost in the beginning.”

“It’s odd that my comfort zone is destruction,” Johnson added, which got a big laugh. And destruction there is – from a space station spinning high above the earth to Chicago’s Magnificent Mile being torn up, Rampage is a fast-moving visual feast, which the cast doesn’t take too seriously and neither should the audience. Instead Rampage is a ride meant to be enjoyed… As the movie’s director summed up: “What I’ve learned from him (Dwayne) is ‘When you get up to the plate, try and hit a grand slam.’ As a Canadian, I wasn’t trained to think like that, but this gigantic Hawaiian dude really knows how to do this right!”

(Photo courtesy Warner Bros.)

Rampage roars into theaters Friday, April 13^th, from Warner Bros. Pictures. Click here to visit official site.

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Michael Coate of the Digital Bits website has once again assembled film historians, including Cinema Retro's Lee Pfeiffer, to weigh in on a classic movie: in this case, the original "Planet of the Apes", which marks the 50th anniversary of its initial release. Click here to read their observations about the film and its legacy. 

It started with a rather innocuous post on the Cinema Retro Facebook page of the paperback movie tie-in novel for "Beneath the Planet of the Apes" along with a notation that we missed the era in which so many new films spawned the release of these editions. Before you could say "Dr. Zaius", readers from around the globe chimed in with their own memories of reading and collecting these books. Best of all, many of them took us up on the challenge to post any photos they might have from their own personal collections. Before long, there was a plethora of great images posted, bringing back memories of paperbacks based on "Dirty Harry", "Taxi Driver", "Star Wars", "The Mechanic" and so many others. Click here to join the fun and feel free to add your own observations and photos. (Note: to view all the entries, go to the end of the article and click on "View more comments" link.)

Remember to "Like" our Facebook page in order to get daily updates on classic movie news. 

BY TIM GREAVES

Sandwiched between his debut feature (1970’s The Bird with the Crystal Plumage, which had enjoyed unprecedented success with American audiences) and the equally excellent Four Flies on Grey Velvet, Dario Argento’s The Cat O’Nine Tails (o.t. Il Gatto a Nova Code) is disappointingly inferior to both in almost every respect. Despite this, almost everything with the director’s name on it – emphasis on almost (and up until the mid-90s at least) – is streets ahead of anything in a similar vein, so I hesitate to be too hard on it.

Franco Arno (Karl Malden), a former newspaper journalist forced into retirement when he lost his sight, now lives with his niece Lori (Cinzia De Carolis) and earns a crust compiling crossword puzzles. Out walking one evening, they pass a car parked up outside an institute involved in genetic experimentation and sharp-eared Arno overhears a snippet of suspicious conversation between the occupants. Later the same night the place is burgled. A chance encounter with reporter Carlo Giordani (James Franciscus), who’s been sent to cover the story, results in Arno assisting him to investigate the break-in. But when people associated with the institute begin to die it seems that the burglar is prepared to kill to obfuscate what he was up to…and Arno and Giordani realise they’ve stupidly placed themselves in his crosshairs!

I must raise a hand here and confess that despite my admiration for Dario Argento’s work and having seen most of his films on multiple occasions, of his pre-1990s output The Cat O’Nine Tails is the one I’ve watched least. Possibly only a couple of times in fact. As such it’s one with which I’m not so familiar. With the arrival of a new Blu-Ray release from Arrow Video I sat down to reacquaint myself with it for the first time in several years and it all came back to me as to why I’ve not visited it often. On paper at least the script by Argento and Dardano Sacchetti lays out all the key ingredients for a tasty cocktail, so there’s little faulting it in that respect. But whereas the director’s best gialli pivot on a burgeoning sense of urgency derived from the misinterpretation of a witnessed moment, or perhaps a half-remembered clue, this one’s a surprisingly sedate affair. Additionally, the film lacks the outlandish plot, stylish camerawork and brutal murder sequences of its 70s stablemates – never mind that it’s also missing a deliciously unhinged killer lurking behind a veneer of respectability – and, let’s be honest, broadly speaking it’s the canny employ of these elements in his pictures that helped build Argento his fan base.

On a frivolous note too, anyone going in with title-engendered anticipation of a kinky sequence involving a dominatrix wielding said implement will come away disappointed; as an analogy, The Living Daylights springs to mind insomuch as, just as that film’s nonsensical title (from the perspective of audiences unfamiliar with Fleming) was dealt with in a single throwaway line, so The Cat O’Nine Tails is incorporated into a frankly silly remark by Giordani.

Seriously though, all these factors notwithstanding, perhaps most injurious of all is the fact the movie is ponderously slow, more methodical mystery-solver than knuckle-whitening chiller.

To clarify my remark about those mundane murder scenes, with the exception of a well-staged sequence when the killer dispatches a witness to his crimes by shoving him off a station platform and under the wheels of an incoming locomotive, they really do lack creativity. The absence of unflinchingly gruesome set pieces akin to those in the like of Deep Red and Tenebrae is keenly felt; I’m afraid a few garrotTings and an attempted poisoning with a carton of milk (no, really!) fail dismally to cut the mustard. That said, there are some memorably unnerving close-ups of the killer’s twitching eyeball as he sights out each victim and at least he himself gets a suitably wince-inducing comeuppance.

James Franciscus, fresh off of Beneath the Planet of the Apes, makes Giordani a decent enough heroic lead, although for my money he’s overshadowed where characterisation is concerned by a top-form Karl Malden as Arno, conveying the sightless gaze of a blind man impeccably. If anything makes the film work it’s the chemistry between these two actors. So good are they together in fact that I’d rather like to have seen Giordani and Arno team up on another investigation. In any event, notable among the rest of the cast are Catherine Spaak (loveliness incarnate as Giordani’s love interest) and little Cinzia De Carolis as Arno’s devoted “seeing eyes”. 

BY LEE PFEIFFER

Kino Lorber continues to produce special edition Blu-rays of obscure titles that are under most movie fans' radar screens. Case in point: "Nightkill", a little-remembered thriller made in 1980 for theatrical release but which  ultimately "premiered" on television, much to the consternation of all involved. Ironically, the movie has the look and feel of a TV production with the notable difference of some disturbing images that were probably edited down for broadcast standards. Thus, the Kino Lorber edition is probably the first opportunity to see the original cut of the film, as it apparently was not released to theaters. The plot is "Diabolique" by way of Alfred Hitchcock. Jaclyn Smith, then riding high from her long-running role as one of Charlie's Angels, is cast as Katherine Atwell, a socialite living in Phoenix and living what appears to be a charmed life. She resides in a hilltop mansion and is the toast of the town because of a charitable foundation she has founded. There is one major caveat: her husband Wendell (Mike Connors) is a boorish rich snob with a violent temper who enjoys demeaning everyone in his circle of influence. He is particularly tough on his long-suffering corporate major domo Steve Fulton (James Franciscus), who must endure Wendell's cynical comments and outbursts. Katherine has come to hate her husband. Their marriage is a loveless one based on mutual convenience: he gets a trophy wife he can parade around as arm candy and she gets a lavish lifestyle and funding for her charity. However, she is frustrated by her loveless, sexless marriage and has taken up a secret torrid affair with Steve Fulton. One sunny afternoon, Katherine, Steve and Wendell are gathered in the Atwell's living room. Steve makes a drink for his boss, who promptly keels over and dies a painful death. Without having given Katherine any advance warning, Steve had poisoned Wendell. He tells the understandably panicky Katherine of his game plan: they will secrete Wendell's body in a large freezer inside the house, then collect a briefcase containing a million dollars that is being stored at an airport locker and fly off to another country so they can live the high life together. Katherine is tempted to alert the authorities, but ultimately decides to go along with Steve's plan. She soon regrets it. When Steve doesn't show up for their planned getaway, Katherine begins to worry. She goes through the arduous task of disposing of her husband's body in an abandoned mine shaft but later believes she sees him alive in various places. In the film's only absurd scene, a car that appears to be driven by her dead husband pursues her in a dangerous chase that she narrowly escapes from. It gets worse. When she opens the freezer that once held her husband's body, she gets another shocking surprise that I won't reveal here. Adding to the pressure is a bothersome detective (Robert Mitchum) who shows up at awkward times and asks increasingly awkward questions about her husband's whereabouts. 

"Nightkill" was directed by Ted Post, a seasoned pro when it came to helming undistinguished-but-entertaining fare both on television and in feature films. (His best theatrical films were "Hang 'Em High", "Beneath the Planet of the Apes" and "Magnum Force".) Post was primarily at home in the television medium and perhaps that's why the movie has the look and feel of a TV production. Post didn't believe in artsy camera shots or other gimmicks. He shot in a basic style that didn't allow for distractions from the action on screen. He milks some suspense out of a sometimes cliched script that borrows too much from other sources. "Nightkill" may be middling in some aspects but it does take some unexpected turns concerning the motivations of the main characters. Jaclyn Smith gives an outstanding performance as the harried and distressed protagonist. The film is sprinkled with other interesting actors and performances. Mike Connors excels at playing against his good guy image as a rotten lout, Fritz Weaver has an unusually flamboyant character to play as a snobby lawyer who has the hots for Katherine, even though he is married to her best friend (Sybil Danning in a role that refreshingly doesn't require her to doff her clothes). Mitchum is his usual cool-as-a-cucumber self as the detective who may or may not be who he claims to be. The Arizona locations are a refreshing change of pace and the film keeps a zesty pace under Post's direction, right up until the rather surprising ending which some viewers may find unsatisfying. The most memorable scene involves yet another "woman in the shower in jeopardy" scene but with a disturbing twist that doesn't involve anyone attacking her. 

BY HANK REINEKE

I have a confession to make. In the unlikely event I’m put in a time machine, sent back to the late spring/early summer of 1969 and given a free pass to only one of two films presently showing at the local twinplex – the choices being Stanley Kubricks’s 2001: a Space Odyssey or Kinji Fukasaku’s The Green Slime… Well, I admit with some degree of shame and embarrassment that I would choose The Green Slime. I do not doubt for a moment the superiority, intellectualism or visual majesty of the former over the latter. But I was eight and a half years old in the summer of 1969 when my parents took me to 2001: A Space Odyssey and I confess I was pretty much bored to tears. Arthur Clarke’s scenario was too obtuse for my grade-school comprehension; the pacing of the film was funeral, the opening bit with the apes and the obelisk bewildering. The outer space stuff, I admit, was pretty cool.

In any case, it was The Green Slime and not 2001 that was the talk of the school back in 1969. It must be said that MGM marketed the film pretty aggressively. The campaign book for The Green Slime suggested theater-owners invest in the ballyhoo package they had masterfully assembled, an over-the-top promotional “Go-Get ‘em Fright Kit.” These kits included “1000 Galling Green Bumper Stickers, 2 Eye Catching, Teeth-Gnashing Stencils, 2000 Greasy, Goggling, High-Camp Pop-Art Buttons in Basic Gripping Green, and 250 Ghastly, Ghoulish, Gelatinous Green Slimes in Guaranteed to Nauseate the Nefarious.” MGM also issued a 45rpm record of the gnarly rock and roll song celebrating The Green Slime, causing all - of a certain age, at least - to twist the volume knob to high on our AM radios.

If that wasn’t enough to piqué interest (and it was), the film campaign also featured one of the greatest one-sheet movie posters I had ever seen – perhaps, still one of the greatest. The closest I got to own a copy was when I skipped down to the local tobacco and stationary store and picked up the September 1969 issue of Famous Monsters of Filmland. There in the racks was that month’s cover girl in all of her 1960’s pop-art movie poster glory: a frightened Luciana Paluzzi in a clear fishbowl space helmet struggling against the tentacle of a giant, feral one-eyed space monster. True, the poster would bear no relation to anything that actually would happen in the film, but that’s beside the point. The fact is if you were a dedicated, erudite reader of Film Comment or American Cinematographer then 2001: A Space Odyssey was indisputably the science-fiction film of the year. If you were between the ages of 8-21 and a faithful reader of comic books and monster magazines, The Green Slime was the bomb… a “bomb” in the good way, of course.

In June of 1969, every American kid was already talking about outer space. Though shot in 1968 at Toei Studios, Tokyo, Japan, The Green Slime opened mid-week near my home just across the Hudson River from Manhattan, on May 21, 1969. In less than two month’s time, two of the three astronauts on NASA’s Apollo 11 mission would walk on the surface of the moon for the first time in recorded history. The promotional department at MGM took every advantage of public interest in the space-craze. Weeks following the film’s initial release - and a mere month prior to the much anticipated NASA moon walk - the black and white newspaper slicks for The Green Slime would feature a new banner draped across the top of the ad copy: “Lunar Contamination Worries Washington: Will future moon landings expose our astronauts to strange germs that could grow… AND GROW… into THE GREEN SLIME?”

In The Green Slime actor Robert Horton plays Commander Jack Rankin, a neither particularly warm nor likable character, but a guy with a reputation for getting things done. He’s brought out of retirement by an officer at the United Nations Space Command (UNSC) who pleads for his cooperation in a time-sensitive demolition job. It seems as though there’s a six million ton asteroid, nickname Flora, hurtling directly in a trajectory toward planet Earth. At its present rate of speed, the asteroid will collide with the planet in approximately ten hours time, so it’s pretty imperative that Commander Rankin get to work immediately.

The crusty astronaut is rocketed to the circular and tubular Gamma 3 space station where he and a small team will board yet another spacecraft and shuttle over to the surface of the asteroid. They intend blow the asteroid from its current trajectory through the use of a few relatively small explosives. This mission is accomplished, pretty handily I might add, but the real trouble starts to brew when a small specimen of the asteroid’s green slime attaches itself to the pants leg of one astronaut and is inadvertently transported back to C Block of Gamma 3. The green slime soon begins to reproduce and morph from the primordial ooze of its original state to a shuffling, green fire-hydrant shaped creature with deep-recessed red eyes. Their long and groping tentacles electrocute any hapless victim who happens to stumble across their whereabouts.

There are also some inter-personal fireworks aboard Gamma 3 when we learn that Rankin and the ship’s Commander Vince Elliott (Richard Jaeckel) don’t particularly care for one another. For starters, Elliott is poised to marry the voluptuous Dr. Lisa Benson (Luciana Paluzzi), a beauty who walks about the starship in a stylish silver lamè  suit and was, apparently, a jilted paramour of Commander Rankin. It’s difficult to determine why Paluzzi would have – now or at any other time - any romantic interest in Rankin. While husband-to-be Vince Elliott might have his own testosterone-fueled problems to work through, he comes off as someone you might enjoy having a beer with. Conversely, and despite his sun-tanned skin, chiseled profile, and sculptured brush of spray matted hair, Horton’s Rankin is positively humorless and uncharismatic. He appears in the personage of a terminally dour game show host.

BY HANK REINEKE

There’s enough cross-plot evidence to suggest that some ideas woven into World Without End (Allied Artists, 1956) were based in part on H.G. Wells’ classic 1895 novel The Time Machine. Wells’ immortal tale would, of course, soon follow the less-celebrated World Without End as a lavish, big-screen Hollywood feature of 1960. Though director-writer Edward Bernds readily admitted to familiarity with Wells’ The Time Machine, he insisted his screenplay was a wholly original creation. Though the similarities between the two works cannot be discounted, Bernds refutation has merit. Certainly modern science-fiction’s fascinations with time and space travel were hardly of the abstract, and most certainly predated Wells’ own literary musings on the subject.

That said, Bernds World Without End is of its own time and primarily a stereotypical 1950s Cold War-era vehicle. It’s a call for a return to reason and détente in the decade following the game-changing horrors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The real monsters in this film are neither the over-sized arachnids nor the ambling Cyclops-Neanderthals. Instead it’s the hawkish politicians, generals, diplomats and scientists who recklessly helped dress the stage for earth’s inevitable apocalypse. There’s little denying this is a “message” film. Even before the credits roll, the film opens dramatically with a grim, red-tinted vision of an atomic mushroom cloud spiraling heavenward.

It is March of 1957, and the U.S. has sent a spacecraft on mankind’s first ever flight to red planet Mars. Surprisingly, the four man crew is not scheduled to touch down on the Martian surface; this flight is purely a reconnaissance mission in which they are tasked to twice orbit Mars for photo-mapping. In Washington D.C., Pentagon officials, members of the press, and distraught family members have become increasingly anxious as contact with the spaceship has been lost. The astronauts onboard are less concerned. They realize this breakdown in communication is merely temporary, likely the result of their spacecraft entering Mars’ magnetic field.

Unfortunately and unbeknownst to the crew, on the return voyage home, the spaceship accidentally wanders into a time displacement vortex. The craft crashes into a snowy region that the rattled astronauts – all of whom have miraculously survived – not unreasonably assume is one of Mars’ famed polar icecaps. It’s not, as they soon recognize when exiting the craft without the assistance of oxygen helmets or pressure suits. Journeying from the snow-capped mountain, they dimly recognize the outline of the Rockies, believing they might have somehow landed on the border of Idaho and Wyoming, or perhaps that of Colorado and New Mexico.

They quickly begin to have their doubts when they wander into a cave and are attacked by giant spiders “as big as dogs!” Surviving that sticky encounter with the assistance of their pistols, an overnight campout under the stars is summarily ruined when they’re viciously attacked by – and barely stave off - a gang of marauding Cyclops-Neanderthals who brandish primitive hand weapons. Taking supposed safe harbor in still another cave, the crew is trapped inside when a steel panel mysteriously descends from above. Their abductors are, to the great relief of all, friends.

They learn from a panel of paternal, subterranean elders referred as “The Council,” that they are indeed back on earth. But it’s now the year 2508, some 551 years since they had first been launched into orbit. They also learn that the earth was almost entirely destroyed in the “Great Blow” of 2188. This was the year of Armageddon when “man destroyed himself” through foolish use of atomic weaponry and the absence of wisdom.

BY JOHN LEMAY

For many years Tarzan was a staple of cinema—in fact from its very onset. The first Tarzan feature, Tarzan of the Apes, came out in 1918 and was followed by close to 50 other adaptations in the last century. His star started to fade in the late 1960s and there were no Tarzan features in the 1970s save for one. The 1980s somewhat provided his last gasp on the big screen with movies like the Bo Derek vehicle Tarzan, the Ape Man (1981) and- more impressively- the well-received Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes.  The 1990s saw only 1998’s Tarzan and the Lost City and the 1999 Disney animated version. In fact, for all many “youngsters” know Tarzan may as well have originated with the Disney cartoon. For the first time in many years, we finally have a new big-budget live-action iteration of one of the screen’s oldest icons in The Legend of Tarzan from Warner Bros. Can it strike a balance between lovers of vintage cinema who grew up on Tarzan and the new “iPhone generation”? Or will it suffer the fate of that other recent Edgar Rice Burroughs adaptation John Carter?

Naturally, there is a lot of CGI vine swinging which will put some viewers off, but I for one say it makes for very exciting action (and less risk for the stuntmen). And secondly, would Tarzan’s journey through cinematic history be complete without a little CGI? I think not. Though there is a lot of appreciation in watching well-done stunt work, the CGI enabled Tarzan could well be the “purist” representation of Burrough’s vision ever put on the screen. In fact, certain shots of Tarzan swinging through the jungle with the apes look like a Frank Frazetta painting come to life. A CGI-enable animal stampede unleashed during the climax is also a scene straight from classic Burroughs, and would have been impossible to pull off with real animals, as is Tarzan’s fight with a gorilla midway through the picture.

Though he’s probably a little too far on the blonde side for Burroughs purists, Alexander Skarsgard is pretty perfectly cast as Tarzan; and for more than just his lithe physique. Playing Tarzan was usually a tough act to balance for most actors. Mike Henry played him as though he were James Bond in Tarzan and the Valley of Gold (1966), while Miles O’Keefe never even spoke in Tarzan, the Ape Man opposite Bo Derek. Perhaps this is why the writers chose to set this film ten years after he has left Africa for England, and Tarzan has become acclimated to modern society as Lord Greystoke, John Clayton. Naturally in this civilized period of his life the character is much easier to write and to portray for Skarsgard. Therefore, this is probably one of the more relatable on screen Tarzans, though I’d say Johnny Weissmuller is still safe as the all-time favorite.

As for the rest of the cast, Margot Robbie is a knockout and does great as Jane. However, it feels as though the production team felt a bit guilty about making her a damsel in distress for most of the film and it shows in some of her scenes in captivity. That being said, Jane’s kidnapping was a necessary plot-device for this film’s story, not to mention something of a Tarzan tradition, but perhaps in the future she can get a better subplot. As the heavy, Christoph Waltz is his usual very watchable self. Though the story sets up Waltz to look like a weakling in his first scene, he quickly proves to be anything but in a nice twist. He even comes complete with a unique way of killing his enemies that would be right at home in one of the older Bond pictures. Samuel L. Jackson portrays Tarzan’s ally from the civilized world who has to acclimate to the jungle, another Tarzan tradition of sorts. Rounding out the rest of the big name actors is Djimon Hounsou who plays the leader of a viscous tribe who has a vendetta with Tarzan, yet another series staple which makes the film round all the usual bases (and I mean this in a positive sense).

In some respects, were I to ignore the CGI, I almost felt as though I was watching some vintage cinema from a bygone era. Perhaps part of this feeling is due to the period setting, since there are so few period piece blockbusters these days. The film is also simply plotted, and is true to the Tarzan formula. An evil white man is out to get the lost diamonds of Opar, and Jane naturally gets kidnapped by him. Much like a Burroughs book, the action cuts back in forth between Tarzan’s trek through the jungle and Jane’s efforts to escape captivity from the villains. Coupled with this are flashback scenes to Tarzan’s origin and first meetings with Jane, as this is more of a “sequel” than an origin story. For purists who dislike CGI, have no fear at least when it comes to the on-location shots of Africa, which are beautiful up on the big screen. Naturally, there are of traces of the 21^st Century filmmaking trends too. In the wake of Marvel Studio’s success it seems every action film these days tries to be a comedian, so to speak. The Legend of Tarzan doesn’t try too hard, but I found most of its jokes fell flat enough they should have been left on the cutting room floor.

Though overall I wouldn’t call it a fantastic film, in this day and age of obligatory reboots I’d have to say The Legend of Tarzan has more merit than most. As to how the new generations just being introduced to Tarzan will react, who can say, but I have a feeling this film will end up being embraced more so by the older crowd than the younger. But just so long as it makes enough to produce a sequel, myself and many others will be happy.

"Batman v. Superman": potential blockbuster or "Cleopatra Redux".

BY LEE PFEIFFER

The heavily-hyped Warner Brothers super hero epic "Batman V. Superman:  Dawn of Justice" is one of the most heavily promoted films in years. It's also one of the most expensive. Variety estimates that the film's $250 million production budget plus ancillary marketing costs will make it necessary for the movie to gross $800 worldwide just to break even. You read that right: $800 million. One industry analyst says that anything less than a gross of $1 billion will be considered a disappointment. Warner Brothers contends that those figures don't take into consideration ancillary revenues from video and merchandising. Fair enough, but if a film bombs, generally speaking, the merchandise and video sales do, too. If you doubt it, how many people did you see walking around with "Waterworld" or "Howard the Duck" T shirts? Veteran screenwriter William Goldman once said of the film industry "Nobody knows anything." That was decades ago and it's still true today. The major studios are so devoid of any original ideas that they can only keep upping the ante in hopes of milking the current passion for big-budget comic book hero productions. It seems that if "Hamlet" were to be brought to the big screen nowadays, the famed soliloquy would have to be delivered by some guy in a cape and mask. Warner Brothers says that the fate of the studio doesn't depend on "Batman vs. Superman", but the fact that they would have to make such a statement indicates how high the stakes are in terms of this film delivering the goods.

Short-sighted studio executives have always been suckers for mega-budget would-be blockbusters. After the success of "Ben-Hur" and "The Ten Commandments" in the late 1950s, studios churned out any number of big-budget roadshow productions. Some worked out well ("The Sound of Music", "Patton", "The Longest Day"), some did okay ("The Alamo", "The Sand Pebbles") while many more lost substantial sums of money ("Mutiny on the Bounty", "55 Days at Peking", "Reds",  "Hello, Dolly!", "Cleopatra",  "Paint Your Wagon" and the notorious "Heaven's Gate"). That isn't to say that most of these boxoffice bombs weren't good movies. In fact, some were great movies, but from a sound business standpoint, their budgets should never have been allowed to jeopardize the health of the entire studio. When James Cameron's "Titanic" went over-budget and ended up costing $200 million back in 1997, industry executives swore they would never put themselves in such a precarious situation again. Guess what? The film became a blockbuster and all caution was thrown to the wind. Before long, directors who were deemed to be hot could get a virtual blank check if they could convince studio bosses that they had the next "can't miss" formula. That included Cameron, who ended up dropping $300 million on "Avatar", which managed to denounce capitalist corporations even as Cameron sought millions from the same entities to finance his already-forgettable blockbuster. (Cameron had learned never to sink your own money into your own production, regardless of how passionate you are about it. It was a lesson learned the hard way by John Wayne on "The Alamo" and Francis Ford Coppola on "Apocalypse Now".)  However, the truth of the matter is that the industry is relying on fewer and fewer blockbusters to carry the baggage for other costly productions that either under-perform or bomb outright. The jury is not yet in on "Batman v. Superman" but how it stacks up in terms of quality isn't the most relevant factor. If the movie doesn't open huge there will be at lot of pants wetting in the corporate boardroom. (Word of mouth on the film is worrying. Apparently, trailers aren't testing that well with the fan boy base the studio needs to woo.)  

Here's a suggestion: how about cutting back on productions that have budgets equivalent to some nation's entire gross national product and get back in the business of making modestly-budgeted movies that are designed to make modest profits. Studios never bet the ranch on mid-range westerns, war movies and spy flicks. Kate Hepburn, Jerry Lewis, Gary Cooper, Burt Lancaster and Marilyn Monroe never starred in high risk blockbusters but their films could always be relied upon to make a decent profit. In the rare cases they did not, the losses were never very substantial. Remember when classic sci-fi movies like "Planet of the Apes" could be completed on relatively small budgets even with major talent involved? Today, insane salaries for overpaid talent have driven the costs of films sky high even before shooting even begins. This, despite the fact that unlike days of old, there are precious few genuine "stars" still left in the industry. What defines a star? Someone whose name on the marquee virtually guarantees a film's success, regardless of the quality of a film. Try thinking of how many actors today meet that criteria. The studios have learned nothing since the era in which Fox bet its very future on the fate of one film: "Cleopatra". It's a practice akin to the average person betting their life savings on a sure bet at a casino.  I dunno. I'm just a guy with a blue collar background from Jersey City but I think I could run a studio boardroom more responsibly than some of the folks who are now doing so-- and so could you. Nobody knows anything. 

One of our loyal subscribers, Rodney Barnett, has his own addictive retro movie blog, Bloody Pit of Rod. He's located some cool, cheesy 1970s original ads for a line of Planet of the Apes toys. We especially love the "Forbidden Zone Trap"!  Click here to view.  

The toy image above comes from Hunter's Planet of the Apes Archive, a super cool site dedicated to everything "Apish".  Click here to visit. 

Cinema Retro has received the following press release relating to our columnist Howard Hughes' new book:

I.B.TAURIS PRESS RELEASE

OUTER LIMITS

THE FILMGOERS’ GUIDE TO THE GREAT SCIENCE-FICTION FILMS

Howard Hughes

Published in Paperback
30 May 2014
£14.99 | 9781780761664

The up-to-date detailed companion to the best sci-fi movies of all time

Science Fiction is probably the most popular box office genre in movie history and has given filmgoers some of their most memorable cinematic experiences. Outer Limits takes its readers on a tour of the sci-fi cinema universe in all its fantastical, celestial glory.

The milestone films of sci-fi cinema from Metropolis to Avatar are discussed in this Filmgoers’ Guide for anyone who enjoys a cinema that has pleased and amazed filmgoers since the dawn of cinema. Illustrated with fine examples of sci-fi film poster-art, Outer Limits goes deep into the most interesting and popular movies across sci-fi cinema’s many forms, with core chapters used as launch pads to discuss lesser-known influential movies and follow-on sequels. Howard Hughes tells the stories from pre-production to box office returns of The War of the Worlds, Independence Day, Tarantula, Godzilla, The Time Machine, The Thing, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Forbidden Planet, Barbarella, Galaxy Quest, Minority Report, Planet of the Apes, Mad Max 2, Back to the Future, Alien, Terminator 2: Judgement Day, The Man Who Fell to Earth, The Matrix, Star Trek, Apollo 13, Blade Runner and many more.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Film writer and historian Howard Hughes is the author of Aim for the Heart: The Films of Clint Eastwood (I.B. Tauris) and of the Filmgoers’ Guide series, When Eagles Dared, Crime Wave, Once Upon a Time in the Italian West and Stagecoach to Tombstone (all from I.B. Tauris). He is contributor to ‘The James Bond Archives’, the official fiftieth anniversary celebration of 007, and writes regularly for film magazine Cinema Retro.

PRAISE FOR HOWARD HUGHES’ BOOKS

‘expertly dissected...a fascinating read.’ - The Times

‘offers much to inform and plenty to enjoy...Highly recommended.’ - Kamera

Hughes is ‘rigorous...engulfing us with history and myriad detail.’ - Empire

‘Entertaining, illuminating and packed with information’ - Sight and Sound

‘Hughes is a fan and his enthusiasm, as well as his research, shines through.’ - Tribune

‘a goldmine of such film trivia, wide-ranging and often delightful...Hughes is a thorough researcher and knows his stuff’ - The Australian

CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON USA

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RETRO-ACTIVE: THE BEST FROM CINEMA RETRO'S ARCHIVES

(This article originally ran in June 2007)  

The latest sci-fi special edition release from Fox is the eagerly-awaited Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea. The TV spin-off series from the mid 1960s has built such a devoted cult following that many people forget it was based on a major big screen feature film produced by Irwin Allen. The eccentric producer has always been marginalized by the lifted pinky crowd for being the schlockmaster supreme, but Allen was a dedicated craftsman who cared not a whit about the critical establishment. He had an uncanny sense for reading the mood of moviegoers and providing the precise type of entertainment they craved at any particular time. By the time his instincts began to fail him in the late 1970s, he had already produced some of the most popular and highest-grossing motion pictures of all time, to say nothing of cult TV classics like Lost in Space, The Time Tunnel, Land of the Giants and of course, the Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea spin-off.

RETRO-ACTIVE: THE BEST FROM THE CINEMA RETRO ARCHIVES

I've got to admit that when I received this screener from Fox I forestalled watching it. The 1973 film was only vaguely familiar to me and I kept putting off viewing it in order to handle more important priorities: like working on my 6-foot decoupage tribute to Lorne Greene. When I finally did watch The Neptune Factor I was pleasantly surprised at how competently it was made and how engrossing the story is. Fox has given this little-seen adventure film a quasi-deluxe release to tie it in with similarly-themed titles like Fantastic Voyage and Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea. The film is inferior to Fantastic Voyage but I enjoyed it far more than the latter film, which has dated noticeably.

Veteran movie director Ted Post has died at age 95. Post was closely associated with the early career of Clint Eastwood, directing 20 episodes of Rawhide and Eastwood's feature films Hang 'Em High (1968) and Magnum Force (1973). Post also directed the hit sequel to Planet of the Apes, Beneath the Planet of the Apes (1970). Post is closely associated with classic TV, having directed episodes of Combat!, The Defenders, The Twilight Zone, Peyton Place and Gunsmoke. His latest television project was a remake of the John Ford classic Stagecoach in 1986. Other feature films include The Harrad Experiment and Go Tell the Spartans.   For more click here

By Lee Pfeiffer

I love the sheer eclectic quality of the Twilight Time catalog. The company's DVD and Blu-ray releases run include every conceivable film genre and the range of titles runs from undisputed classics to underrated gems to massive misfires that now merit status as "guilty pleasures". Falling firmly into the latter category is Lost Horizon, producer Ross Hunter's notorious 1973 big budget musical remake of Frank Capra's 1937 classic. Both versions adhere to the basic framework of James Hilton's classic source novel but the Hunter version obviously deviates far more in order to accommodate glossy Hollywood elements. (Hilton's obviously did not allude to elaborate song and dance numbers.)  When a film that features so many talented people misfires badly, it's tempting to say, "What were they thinking???" However, in the case of Lost Horizon, special dispensation is merited for the participants because, at the time, it must have looked like an irresistible project. The director was Charles Jarrott, who was then a hot property, coming off the acclaimed films Anne of the Thousand Days and Mary, Queen of Scots. The producer was Ross Hunter, a Hollywood perennial with a sterling reputation for producing audience-pleasing box-office hits, most recently the blockbuster Airport. The score would be composed by the red-hot team of Burt Bacharach and Hal David and the cast would feature many talented actors then at the height of their careers: Peter Finch, Liv Ullmann, Michael York, George Kennedy, Sally Kellerman and Olivia Hussey- with acting royalty represented by the likes of John Gielgud and Charles Boyer. The production numbers would be choreographed by the legendary Hermes Pan, the script was penned by Larry Kramer, who recently won acclaim for his adaptation of Women in Love and the cinematographer was Robert Surtees, himself a film industry legend. What could go wrong? Against all odds, the answer would be: "Everything."

The film opens well enough with Finch as Richard Conway, a British diplomat who has tried and failed to broker a peace treaty in an unnamed Asian nation torn by civil war. We first see him trying frantically to coordinate rescue flights for stranded Americans and Europeans as rebels close in on the airport amid rioting crowds clamoring to get on the last planes out. (The scene would be replicated shortly thereafter in real life with the fall of Saigon.) Conway manages to get aboard the final flight, which takes off even as rebels pursue the plane down the runway. On board is an eclectic group consisting of Conway's brother George (Michael York), Sally Hughes (Sally Kellerman), a burned out and depressed war photographer, Sam Cornelius (George Kennedy), a once-promising architect who is now in hiding due to a financial scandal and Harry Lovett (Bobby Van), a small time night club comedian with delusions of grandeur. They find their plane has been hijacked and they are en route to an unknown destination. Ultimately, they crash land on a mountain range in the Himalayas where they are rescued in a peculiarly timely manner by a number of natives led by Chang (John Gielgud), their elderly but capable spiritual leader. The refugees make a difficult journey through a blinding snow storm before walking through a cave and emerging into a sunny, tropical oasis that is called Shangri-La. Chang explains that the community's unique geographical situation- protected by mountains on all sides- allows the weather to never vary. The warm climate allows for a year-long abundance of crops. It doesn't take the refugees long to discover that this is a fairy tale-like paradise, virtually untouched by the outside world. There are luxurious homes and temples and the people never allow personal disputes to escalate to the level of violence. It is explained that the luxuries and materials for the magnificent buildings were all brought in painstakingly by the few porters who are allowed in from the outside world. (There must have been quite an abundance, as Chang's home alone contains more furniture than the average Ikea store.) Before long, the group becomes comfortable in their new-found paradise with most reluctant to even attempt to leave, a feat that Chang says is all but impossible anyway, given the obstacles provided by nature. Richard Conway falls for Catherine (Liv Ullmann), a pretty school teacher, Harry finds value in Shangri- La that allows him to reaffirm his self-worth and even Sally and Sam form an unlikely romantic bond. George Conway, meanwhile, becomes obsessed with Maria (Olivia Hussey), a beautiful young woman who is bored with living in paradise and longs for him to take her to London. Sam begins to woo a reluctant Sally and reawakens her romantic passions. Even Harry finds his confidence improving when he becomes an unlikely mentor to local children. Nevertheless, trouble brews when George pressures Richard to accompany him and Maria on a dangerous trek out of the Himalayas. Chang warns him that she is not who she appears to be: in fact, she is a very old woman and will revert to her actual age if she leaves Shangri-La. Needless, to say, his advice is ignored. 

Perhaps this Lost Horizon could have been salvaged if the music and choreography were up to expectations, but everyone was asleep at the wheel. The Bacharach/David score contains plenty of musical numbers, but the best of them are simply bland and the worst are laughable. Hermes Pan's direction of the dance sequences is also surprisingly inept, especially a ludicrous fertility dance that resembles one of those big luau parties held every other night at Hawaiian hotels for the tourist crowds. (The sequence was understandably cut from the original release but has been restored for the video edition.) In one weird number, Liv Ullmann leads a parade of school kids who saunter about with their arms swinging back and forth as though they were auditioning for a Planet of the Apes sequel. Most of the vocals by the leading actors were dubbed (very well, in fact) and a few of the songs are bland, but pleasing given the context of the scenes they appear in. The main problem is that, for all the money spent on this lavish production, the movie simply has no heart. Unlike the original, the film never engages you on an emotional level. The Finch and York characters emerge as the most believable and their performances are the most impressive. The opening sequence, as the protagonists attempt to make a desperate escape from the besieged  airport, is the best sequence in the film. It's only when they start tossing in those musical numbers that things go downhill fast. We do get to see Sally Kellerman perform her own musical numbers, but one of them-set in a library- is so embarrassingly staged that it makes for unintentional laughter. We also learn that Olivia Hussey is quite the dancer, performing an exotic number quite impressively but it somehow seems to be one of those titillating numbers that preceded a strip show I once saw in a Hong Kong sleaze joint. Most disappointing is what should have been the emotional climax of the film- the death of her character as she ages dramatically in a matter of moments after leaving Shangri La. In the original film, it's a harrowing and riveting sequence that precedes the story's moving last sequence as Richard Conway's colleagues in a London club toast his mysterious fate as we watch him attempt (presumably successfully) to return across the mountains to his lost paradise. In the remake, these scenes fall flat and never engage the viewers as meaningfully as they should. Most of the blame must be placed on the shoulders of director Charles Jarrott, who never seems to capture the human side of the story because he has to deal with the circus-like logistics of the musical aspects of the production. Charles Boyer and John Gielgud acquit themselves well enough, but there is something inherently distasteful about watching yet another major film in which Asian characters are portrayed by Caucasian actors. 

Having said all that, one must compliment Twilight Time on their first-rate presentation of this cinematic oddity. (Some of the features were previously released on Sony's initial restored DVD version of the film) The Blu-ray transfer is beautiful  and does justice to Robert Surtees' impressive cinematography and there are some interesting extras, including an informative (and candid) assessment of the film by Julie Kirgo. There are also audio tracks of Burt Bacharach  (no singer, he) warbling his work-in-process versions of the songs. Without the bloated visuals that accompany them on film, they actually come across a lot better. He would have been better to farm the tracks out to Dionne Warwick and walk away from the film production. (These songs are creatively played against a variety of interesting behind the scenes photos from the production.) There are also are variety of TV spots and a rather well-worn, faded vintage featurette that is interesting in the way that these mini-propaganda films generally prove to be. There is also a theatrical trailer and an alternate version of a love scene between Finch and Ullmann.  

I recently discussed the film with Turner Classic Movies host Robert Osborne. He recalled being at the premiere and how everyone in the celebrity-packed audience seemed to know they were witnessing a disaster- except the producer, Ross Hunter (whose prestigious film career would come to an end with this film). Osborne said Hunter was strategically located at the back of the theater so he could accept congratulations from the attendees after the premiere. Osborne chuckled at the recollection of witnessing Merle Oberon climbing over seats to exit through a different door rather than have to face Hunter. If you view the film on Blu-ray, you won't have to indulge in such gymnastics. The film remains a major artistic debacle, but it should be seen, if for no other reason than to form your own conclusions. Time has a way of making bad movies sometimes look better. It's possible to appreciate the small pleasures Lost Horizon affords even if this won't ever be re-evaluated as an underrated classic.

To order from Screen Archives, click here 

(This is a region free release and will play on any international Blu-ray system.)  

By Lee Pfeiffer

Any retro movie lover would be forgiven for thinking there would be a multitude of pleasures in The Great Scout and Cathouse Thursday, a 1976 Western comedy top-lining such considerable talents as Lee Marvin, Oliver Reed, Robert Culp, Kay Lenz, Elizabeth Ashley, Sylvia Miles and the always watchable Strother Martin. Sadly, the film is a complete misfire with nary a true guffaw to be found throughout. The movie is directed by Don Taylor, who helmed some fairly good films including Escape From the Planet of the Apes, Damien: Omen II and The Final Countdown. However, comedy is not Taylor's strong suit, as evidenced by the over-the-top elements of the movie. The quasi plot finds Marvin as Sam Longwood, an eccentric plainsman who is partnered with Indian Joe Knox (Oliver Reed) and  Billy (Strother Martin) in an attempt to track down their former partner Jack Colby (Robert Culp) who fled with the haul the gold hoarde the four men had discovered years before. Colby has used the stolen loot to establish himself as a respectable politician. Sam, Joe and Billy concoct a scheme whereby they will blackmail Colby into returning their share of the money by kidnapping his wife Nancy Sue (Elizabeth Ashley), a loud-mouthed and obnoxious woman who has had romantic ties to Sam in the past. For reasons far too labored to go into, the trio of men are also accompanied by a seventeen year-old prosititute named Thursday who is seeking to escape the clutches of her former madam (Sylvia Miles).

The film has boundless energy but the non-screenplay leads the characters to dead-ends. Taylor inserts numerous slapstick comedy bits that bring out the worst in Marvin, as he goes into his over-acting mode routinely. Most embarrassing is the bizarre casting of Reed as a Native American. Cursed by having to wear a mop-haired wig and grunting "Me Tarzan, You Jane"-style dialogue, Reed does the most harm to the image of the Indian since the massacre at Wounded Knee. The film lurches from extended fistfights to boring chase sequences, all designed to mask over the fact that the script is a bland, pasted together conconction. There is also a jaunty musical score by John Cameron that is played so incessently, you'll be tempted to keep the remote on "mute" mode. The only people to emerge relatively unscathed are Lenz, Culp and Martin, who provided whatever wit and charm the film boasts. On paper, the project probably looked promising, but in terms of any genuine laughs...well, they went that-a-way.

Click here to order from Oldies.com

By Todd Garbarini

The Arthur Rankin, Jr. and Jules Bass production team are best known to millions of television audiences as Rankin & Bass for their unforgettable holiday-themed, stop-motion animation outings such as Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964), Santa Claus is Coming to Town (1970), Here Comes Peter Cottontail (1971), and The Year Without a Santa Claus (1974). Christmas and Easter would not be the same without a viewing of these specials on either television or home video. Though the bulk of their work is comprised of television movies and specials, they also collaborated on theatrically-released films like The Daydreamer (1966), Mad Monster Party? (1967), Wacky World of Mother Goose (1967), and The Last Unicorn (1982). This prolific producing and directing team assembled a crew of talented sculptors, writers, editors, photographers and musicians to create some of the most memorable family entertainment.

Warner Archive is continuing their extraordinary work in bringing more of the Rankin & Bass catalog to their burn-on-demand library. Thus far they have released a double feature of Nestor the Long-Eared Christmas Donkey (1977) & The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus (1985) and the long-desired, beloved made-for-TV movie The Bermuda Depths (1978). Just prior to the latter, Rankin & Bass made The Last Dinosaur (1977), a low-budget film that was originally intended for theatrical release, but was shortened by eleven minutes to a 95-minute running time and aired on ABC television instead on February 11, 1977, which is good because the film has a TV-movie feel to it. Warner Archive has recently released the full, uncut 106-minute theatrical cut on DVD-R. Written by William Overgard, scored by Maury Laws, and directed by Tsugunobu Kotani (listed in the credits as Tom Kotani) who all repeated their roles for The Bermuda Depths (also released theatrically in Europe), The Last Dinosaur is a fun movie for the twelve year-old set and under, though I am sure that Rankin and Bass completists will find much to enjoy here. Mason Thrust, Jr. (Richard Boone) is a cantankerous and misogynistic safarist who meets the sole survivor of an expedition who witnessed the existence of a Tyrannosaurus Rex. Intrigued, Thrust puts together a team that includes the sole survivor, some experts, and, against his wishes, photographer Francesca Banks (Joan Van Ark), just because she’s a woman. They travel to the jungle locale and have a few close encounters with beasts that should have been dead millions of years ago, one of which is the T-Rex who roars a little like Godzilla. Along the way, they run into some Neanderthal dwellers, one of whom resembles Nova from Planet of the Apes (1968) who runs off with Francesca’s purse. It’s a fairly straightforward tale involving the usual Rankin & Bass special effects which, at times, look just like that. The cheesiness is part of the film’s charm, though it is slow-moving by today’s standards. The nighttime scenes are all shot day-for-night, and the film begins and ends with the Nancy Wilson tune “The Last Dinosaur.”

Previous Warner Archive titles featured non-descript DVD covers that were comprised of a publicity shot from a particular film superimposed over a blue background. The company’s subsequent success has allowed Warner Archive to invest in providing a film’s original artwork on the DVD-R cover, and The Last Dinosaur boasts the exciting painting that was originally intended for the film’s theatrical one-sheet; this image also appeared on the French poster when the film was distributed theatrically as Le Derniere Dinosaure.

Click here to order from Warner Archive

Because of the major worldwide success of Rise of the Planet of the Apes, Fox has given the green light to a new film, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes. A script has already been completed and directors are now being considered. The first film in the franchise was released in 1968. For more click here

Richard D. Zanuck,the son of one-time 20th Century Fox chairman Darryl F. Zanuck, has died from a heart attack at age 77. Zanuck's life was one of triumph, failure and redemption. He was appointed as head of production for Fox during trying times when his abrasive father had been called back as Chairman in order to save a studio awash in red ink, largely the result of the out-of-control production costs on Cleopatra. The elder Zanuck saved the studio with his 1962 D-Day blockbuster The Longest Day. During the duo's tenure at the studio, there were massive hits including Patton, Planet of the Apes, M*A*S*H, The Sand Pebbles, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and, most profitably, The Sound of Music. There were also missteps such as costly financial disasters like Tora! Tora! Tora!, Hello Dolly! and Star! (The studio favored titles with exclamation points in that era). Under pressure to save the studio once again, the elder Zanuck deflected personal responsibility and in a shocking move, fired his son. The two were estranged for a time but ultimately reconciled. The younger Zanuck had a successful stint at Warner Brothers before teaming with fellow producer David Brown to produce such blockbusters as Jaws and The Sting. Working on his own in later years, Zanuck produced such hits as Driving Miss Daisy, Cocoon and Alice in Wonderland. He also produced Tim Burton's 2001 remake of Planet of the Apes. Despite being reviled by fans, the film was a major hit. His latest movie, Dark Shadows, is currently in release. For more click here

Charlton Heston and Maurice Evans in the original Planet of the Apes.

The web site Cable TV Providers (yes, that's really the name!) has another interesting article examining major films that significantly changed the plots of the source novels upon which they are based. From I Am Legend to Jaws, The Poseidon Adventure and Planet of the Apes, you'll be surprised at the major plot points excluded or changed in the transition from printed page to silver screen. Click here for more 

Reader William Burge sent in this rare teaser advertisement for the original Planet of the Apes. 

Cinema Retro Issue #31 (2015)

Don L. Stradley's tribute to the first lady of kick-ass cinema, Pam Grier

Steven Bingen presents our "Film in Focus": the modern film noir classic "Farewell My Lovely" starring Robert Mitchum- with exclusive insights from the film's director, Dick Richards. 

Howard Hughes looks at the making of the 1968 Western "Bandolero!" starring Raquel Welch, Dean Martin and James Stewart. 

Keith Wilton celebrates the glories of the long-gone widescreen process VistaVision. 

Cai Ross pays tribute to the late Ted Post, director of “Hang 'Em High”, “Magnum Force” and “Beneath the Planet of the Apes”

Mark Cerulli takes a working vacation and visits some of the key Portugal locations for "On Her Majesty's Secret Service" and tracks down extras who appeared in the film. 

Jonathon Dabell looks back on director Richard Brooks' underrated 1975 Western "Bite the Bullet"  starring Gene Hackman and James Coburn

Howard Hughes' homage to the Italian "Gamma 1" cult sci-fi flicks

Tim Greaves looks back on the short but glamorous film career of Hammer horror sex symbol Olinka Berova

Charles Cohen discusses his ambitious efforts to restore timeless film classics through The Cohen Film Collection

Lee Pfeiffer looks at the mostly-forgotten and underrated film "Staircase" starring Richard Burton and Rex Harrison as aging gay lovers

Gareth Owen focuses on the filming of "The New Avengers" TV series at Pinewood Studios

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RETRO-ACTIVE: THE BEST ARTICLES FROM CINEMA RETRO'S ARCHIVES 

Bradford Dillman: A Compulsively Watchable Actor

By Harvey Chartrand

In a career that has spanned 43 years, Bradford Dillman accumulated more than 500 film and TV credits. The slim, handsome and patrician Dillman may have been the busiest actor in Hollywood during the late sixties and early seventies, working non-stop for years. In 1971 alone, Dillman starred in seven full-length feature films. And this protean output doesn’t include guest appearances on six TV shows that same year.

Yale-educated Dillman first drew good notices in the early 1950s on the Broadway stage and in live TV shows, such as Climax and Kraft Television Theatre. After making theatrical history playing Edmund Tyrone in the first-ever production of Eugene O’Neill’s Long Day’s Journey into Night in 1956, Dillman landed the role of blueblood psychopath Artie Straus in the crime-and-punishment thriller Compulsion (1959), for which he won a three-way Best Actor Prize at Cannes (sharing the award with co-stars Dean Stockwell and Orson Welles).

On the And You Call Yourself a Scientist! Web site, Dillman’s Artie Straus is described as “all brag and bravado, contemptuous of everything but himself, with his bridge-and-country-club parents, and his vaguely unwholesome relationship with his mother.”

In the early years of his career, Dillman starred in several major motion pictures, picking and choosing his roles carefully. He was featured in Jean Negulesco’s romance A Certain Smile (1958) with Rossano Brazzi and Joan Fontaine; Philip Dunne’s World War II drama In Love and War (1958) with Robert Wagner and Dana Wynter; and Tony Richardson’s Sanctuary (1961) with Lee Remick and Yves Montand, a rancid slice of Southern Gothic based on the novel by William Faulkner.

Yet in the early sixties, Dillman started taking any part that came along to support his growing family. From 1962 on, he guest starred in dozens of TV series -- among them Espionage, Kraft Suspense Theatre, Twelve O’Clock High, Shane, Felony Squad, The Man from U.N.C.L.E., Marcus Welby, M.D., The Streets of San Francisco, Bronk, How the West Was Won and Fantasy Island.

In 1975, Dillman won an Emmy Award for Outstanding Actor in a Daytime Drama Special for his performance as Matt Clifton in Last Bride of Salem (1974), an excellent tale of modern witchcraft. The 90-minute Gothic horror movie aired on ABC Afternoon Playbreak and was so well received that it was rebroadcast during primetime.

Over the years, Dillman appeared in scores of made-for-TV movies and theatrical releases, such as Walter Grauman’s drama A Rage to Live (1965) with the late Suzanne Pleshette; John Guillermin’s war story The Bridge at Remagen (1969) with George Segal; Hy Averback’s satire Suppose They Gave a War and Nobody Came (1970) starring Tony Curtis; and Jud Taylor’s horror-thriller Revenge (1971), with Shelley Winters. Dillman also played a psychiatrist who goes ape for Natalie Trundy in Don Taylor’s Escape from the Planet of the Apes (1971) and a scientist battling firestarting cockroaches in Jeannot Szwarc’s Bug (1975) — the final film produced by legendary horror schlockmeister William Castle.

Dillman is now 81. After retiring from acting in 1995, he took up a second career as a writer. He is excellent at his new avocation, requiring no ghostwriters to tweak his prose. Dillman’s autobiography Are You Anybody? is a series of amusing anecdotes about his Hollywood years. He has also written a harrowing adventure tale entitled That Air Forever Dark, set in Papua New Guinea and Indonesia. “It’s a terrifying account of the Jet Age meeting the Stone Age – Deliverance in a jungle setting,” the actor-turned-author says.

Dillman’s latest book, published in 2005 by Fithian Press, is a comedy of errors entitled Kissing Kate. “The novel is about an amateur production of Kiss Me Kate,” Dillman relates. “An out-of-work professional actor is hired to play the male lead opposite a wealthy community icon. Ultimately, of course, they end up in bed together, where a ‘catastrophe’ occurs and all hell breaks loose. I assure you that Kissing Kate is not in the least bit autobiographical!”

Fifty-two years after appearing on stage in O’Neill’s landmark theatrical event, Dillman is now a playwright as well. His Seeds in the Wind made its debut in May 2007 at the Rubicon Theatre Company in Ventura, California. The play is set in 1939 in Santa Cruz, California, during a weekend celebrating the 40th birthday of a society hostess' daughter. The interaction of the houseguests is both humorous and dramatic, and all manner of unexpected events occur, Dillman assures us.

The veteran performer spoke to Cinema Retro from his home in Santa Barbara, California.

Bradford Dillman: I had a commitment to Twentieth Century Fox to do two pictures a year and, as fate would have it, the timing of the filming of Compulsion coincided. Nothing to do with the moguls’ belief that I had talent. It was just dumb luck, pure and simple.

Compulsion (1959) with Dean Stockwell and Orson Welles

CR: Following Compulsion, you were often cast in villainous roles. In 1964, you co-starred with B-movie cult figure John Ashley (The Mad Doctor of Blood Island) in an episode of Dr. Kildare with the intriguing title Night of the Beast. What was that one about?

BD: I was the beast. I was such a bad guy I had my thugs hold Kildare down while I raped his girlfriend in front of his very eyes. When we came to the comeuppance scene, I learned that Richard Chamberlain had obviously never been in a fistfight in his life. The stunt men couldn't teach him how to throw a punch; I couldn't teach him. So we had a gentle comeuppance. He's a nice, sensitive man who has since come out of the closet.

With Carol Lynley, Robert Vaughn and David McCallum in the Man From U.N.C.L.E. feature film The Helicopter Spies (1968)

CR: In 1967, you were the guest villain on The Prince of Darkness Affair, a two-part episode of The Man from U.N.C.L.E, later repackaged as a theatrical release – The Helicopter Spies (1968). You were great fun as Luther Sebastian, the Third Way cult leader who steals a rocket. Did you have any scenes with lovely Lola Albright?

BD: The Helicopter Spies has disappeared in the vortex of remaining brain cells. I don’t remember if I exchanged words with Lola Albright.

Movie fans may be startled to learn that Cheetah, the legendary chimpanzee who acted as Tarzan's sidekick, has died at age 80. That's right, the chimp who put simians on the boxoffice charts long before Planet of the Apes was ever envisioned, was still with us until last week. He lived a life of relative luxury. Cheetah first appeared in the Tarzan films of the 1930s with Johnny Weismuller, who looked after his furry friend until 1960 when he donated him to an animal preserve where he lived out his days in style. For more click here

Cinema Retro has received the following press release from Fox:

Christopher Lee in The Wicker Man

By Mark Mawston

With Halloween fast approaching I thought I might recommend some films that seem to have found themselves, bar one or two, languishing in DVD dungeons like forgotten prisoners.

There are many recognized classics of the genre from The Omen and The Exorcist to The Haunting, as well as the Universal classics such as Frankenstein, Dracula and The Mummy but some of what I humbly call classics seldom, if ever, get a chance to shine. To try and set this straight before the witching hour strikes, I like to recommend a few films, 13 to be precise, that you may have missed or could perhaps re visit during this spookiest time of year.

13) Night Of The Eagle:

This superb British Witchcraft tale (known under the more lurid title Burn Witch Burn in the U.S.) is a minor monsterpiece. Starring Jason King himself Peter Wyngard it shows the consequences of marrying a witch in a way that Darren and Samantha never had to deal with on Bewitched. Taking its subject matter very seriously, this is a superbly acted little film with a, quite literally, killer climax. A Stone Cold Classic you could say.

12) Night Of The Demon.

This genre classic would make a superb “Night” time double bill with its predecessor in this list. Based on the short story Casting Of The Runes by M.R. James (and known as Curse Of The Demon In The States) this is a terrifying film whose dark atmosphere is backed up by superb and believable performances and a classic storyline. Dana Andrews was never better but the star of the show is Niall MacGinnis as Dr. Julian Karswell who can switch from children’s entertainer to demon conjurer quicker than the extinguishing of a flickering candle flame. The chase through the forest by the unseen demon is a masterpiece of subtly which is disregarded in the climax for the full on view of the film’s title creature. Many say this spoils the Val Lewtonesque feel of the film but I rather like it.

11) The Devil Rides Out:

Quite simply one of the best Hammer films ever made, with Christopher Lee acting against type, very successfully, as the hero rather than the monster. Based on the novel by Dennis Wheatly and brought to the screen by the superb Richard Matheson, this is Hammer firing on all four cylinders and has some of the most memorable set pieces of the studio’s superb output. Future Blofeld Charles Gray is excellent as Macata. One of Terence Fishers best, a director who was to Hammer what Terence Young was to the Bond films.

10) The Wicker Man:

One of the key films to watch over the period is Robin Hardy’s cult classic about a cult. Is it a musical? Is it a horror film? Is it really a classic? Well it’s a simple yes to all of them. When I talked to producer Michael Deeley about this he still seemed a bit bemused about this film’s well documented past and pointed out that the only way it could be released at the time was for it to be trimmed and released as a double bill. Many films have had that happen over the years (Ray Harryhausen’s Valley Of Gwangi coupled with Marianne Faithfull in Girl on a Motorcycle (a.k.a Naked Under Leather ) but few films who’s trims ended up as motorway landfill have such a following. The ending is still up there with that of Planet of the Apes for those who have yet to see it. Unlike The Sixth Sense, I had no idea of the “twist” until the shocking climax. It remains a unique cinematic experience. The soundtrack by Paul Giovanni is as unforgettable as the naked dance of Britt Ekland’s character Willow in the film.