By John M. Whalen

"A JOB OF WORK”

“Wagon Master” (1950), a Blu-Ray release from the Warner Archive, is director John Ford’s film about the first wagon train of Mormons to cross miles of treacherous desert and mountain terrain in order to settle in Utah’s San Juan Valley. It opens, however, with a short, almost incongruous prelude, in which an outlaw family known as the Cleggs robs a bank. They kill a bank employee and, after family patriarch Uncle Shiloh (Charles Kemper) takes a bullet in the shoulder, they run off into the desert with the money. They are pursued by the sheriff and his posse but we don’t see much of them again for another 40 minutes. But you know they’re out there.

Ward Bond, one of Ford’s “stock company” players, is Elder Wiggins, the Mormon leader, who started out for San Juan without exactly knowing how to get there. He runs into a couple of wandering cowboys, Travis Blue (Ben Johnson) and Sandy (Harry Carey, Jr.), who’ve just come from the San Juan River area. At first they resist his offer of a job, until Sandy meets Prudence Perkins (Kathleen O’Malley), daughter of Adam Perkins (Russell Simpson) one of the Mormon Elders. He convinces Travis to accept the job as Wagon Master.

The next half hour shows us the hardships they had to endure during the desert crossing, while Sandy and Prudence start a romance, and the laconic Travis whittles a stick and plays with his lariat. On the way, however, they encounter a broken down medicine show wagon belonging to Doctor A. Locksley Hall (Alan Mowbray), who is accompanied by two showgirls, Denver (Joanne Dru) and Fleuretty Phyffe (Ruth Clifford). Mowbray plays almost the same character he played in Ford’s “My Darling Clementine” and Denver is one of Ford’s typical Shady Ladies, similar to Dallas (Claire Trevor) in “Stagecoach” (1939). Travis falls for her.

The wagon train starts to run out of water at one point but they make it to a river and that night everybody’s happy and they do what all John Ford pioneer do in that situation. They have a hoe down—in the middle of which, who should show up, looking like a pack of mangy coyotes? You guessed it. The Cleggs. They come in out of the night carrying rifles and have the Mormons at their mercy. The Cleggs must have been close relatives of the Hammonds, the subhuman gold miners who would show up some 12 years later in Sam Peckinpah’s “Ride the High Country” (1962). Surely Peckinpah was “inspired” by Hank Worden’s imbecilic Luke Clegg when he cast Warren Oates as the degenerate Henry Hammond, who never took baths and wanted to share his brother Billy’s new bride on their wedding night. The whole Hammond clan look, talk, and act exactly like the Cleggs. But that’s a topic for another discussion.

At any rate, they force Doc Hall to take the bullet out of Uncle Shiloh’s shoulder and decide to stick with the Mormons until such time as they can be sure the sheriff and his posse have stopped looking for them. Next some Navajos show up. But they are friendly, because, while they don’t like white men “because they’re thieves,” they do like Mormons because they are only “little thieves.” But when one of the Cleggs molests a Navajo woman, Wiggins is forced to order the offending Clegg tied to a wagon wheel and whipped. When Uncle Shiloh protests, Wiggins tells him a whipping is better than a scalping. But the incident creates resentment in Uncle Shiloh that will result in a final showdown later on.

“Wagon Master” is classic John Ford, filmed on location in Monument Valley and Moab, Utah, with Ford’s iconic imagery and the usual thematic statements about the indomitability of the human spirit, and the development of a community in an unfriendly wilderness. But it differs from most of his other films in two ways. First of all, although it was filmed on Ford’s favorite location, it was shot by cinematographer Bert Glendon in black and white instead of color. He eschewed the gorgeous hues of Monument Valley, and instead created a backdrop that seems more fitting the grim life and death struggle of the Mormons trying to reach the Promised Land. Second, unlike the other films he shot there, whether in color or black and white, there is no larger- than- life hero, no John Wayne, or Henry Fonda, to take on the heavies and save the day. In “Wagon Master” the main characters are all average people. Travis and Sandy are simply drifters. Elder Wiggins is a man of strong character, but neither he, nor Sandy or Travis are gunmen. They admit to themselves and each other they’re scared of the Cleggs, but Wiggins says he’ll never let them know it. Nor will he let his people know it. Without the Duke, the little people have to stand up for themselves.

The Warner Archive has provided a clear, sharp 1080p high definition transfer of the film to disc, as well as a terrific audio commentary track, featuring director Peter Bogdanovich and cast member Harry Carey, Jr. talking about the film as they watch it. Carey tells what it was like, and how he felt, working with Ford. His comments are priceless. In one scene where Ford tilted his hat to one side, Carey gripes to Bogdanovich: “Why did he have me wear my hat that way? I look like a village idiot!”

Bogdanovich and Carey’s commentary is interspersed with audio clips of Bogdanovich’s 1966 interview with Ford himself, in which he presents his own view of his work. He tells Bogdanovich he never thought of his films in terms of them being art. “I am a hard-nosed director,” he says. “I’m not carrying any messages. I have no personal feelings about the pictures. If I liked the script, I shot it. It was nothing earth-shaking. It was a job of work.”

It may have been just a job as far as Ford was concerned, but it was a job he did extremely well and sometimes a job of work can be a work of art. Highly recommended.

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John M. Whalen is the author of "Tragon and the Scorpion Woman...and Other Tales". Click  here to order from Amazon

BY LEE PFEIFFER

When they say "They don't make 'em like that anymore" it could well be in reference to "The Honey Pot", a delightful 1967 concoction.The film is the kind of star-studded comedy/mystery that has recently made a comeback through the "Knives Out" movies. However, this film barely registers in the minds of most movie-goers and was not successful when it was first released. (The studio even reissued it under a new title, "It Comes Up Murder".) The project was cursed from the beginning. The original cinematographer, Gianni Di Venanzo, died before production was completed. When the film was released in select engagements, the running time was 150 minutes, which was deemed to be far too long for this modest enterprise that is confined largely to interiors. For general release, 18 minutes were cut, although some of those scenes still appeared in lobby cards advertising the movie. One well-known character actor, Herschel Bernardi, had his entire role eliminated. Additionally, the film's producer Charles K. Feldman was under a great deal of stress, as he was simultaneously overseeing production on his bloated, out-of-control spoof version of the James Bond novel "Casino Royale". Yet, what emerges somehow managed to end up being quite entertaining, thanks in no small part to the larger-than-life Rex Harrison having a field day playing an equally larger-than-life rich cad. Essentially, he's playing Henry Higgins from "My Fair Lady" once again- only this time with a more devious streak. Both characters are filthy rich. Both are erudite and sophisticated snobs who devise cruel games involving innocents in return for his own self-amusement. Harrison is a wicked but lovable character. You can't help cheering him on despite his lack of ethical convictions.

The film, written and directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz, is cobbled together from Frederick Knotts' play "Mr. Fox of Venice" and Thomas Sterling's novel "The Evil of the Day" with a healthy dose of Ben Johnson's play "Volpone" tossed in. In fact the film opens with Harrison as the pretentiously-named Cecil Sheridan Fox enjoying a performance of "Volpone" at a magnificent Venetian theater. The camera pans back to show that this is a private performance for Fox alone. He stops the play before the finale, thanks the cast members for a spirited production and leaves the scene. Yes, he's that rich. We soon learn that he is using elements of "Volpone" to orchestrate an elaborate and expensive practical joke. The first step comes when he hires an unemployed American actor, William McFly (Cliff Robertson) to be his hired hand. He informs McFly that he must pose as Fox's long-time major domo in his elaborate mansion house, which is impressively located right on one of the canals. Fox explains to McFly that he has written to three former lovers and told them he is terminally ill. None of the women know that the others have been informed. He reasons that they will all make a bee-line directly to him, ostensibly to care for him, but in reality in hopes of inheriting his fortune. First on his list is Lone Star Crockett (Susan Hayward), who Fox wooed when she was a wild teenager. In the course of their affair, he put her on the road to a life of luxury and pleasure. Then there is Princess Dominique (Capucine), an exotic beauty who is in a troubled marriage and Merle McGill (Edie Adams), a famous but fading movie star. On the surface, all three of these women are independently wealthy and shouldn't need his fortune. But he suspects that, in reality, all are in some degree of financial distress and he wants to see if they will compete with each other to earn his favor. Sure enough, each of the ladies arrive at his home and are surprised to see they have two female competitors. Lone Star is now a cranky hypochondriac who requires constant pampering from her ever-present companion, a spinster named Sarah Watkins (Maggie Smith). Dominique tries to put on an air of self-assurance and Merle is a wise-cracking cynic. All of them individually express their sympathies to Fox and there is even the occasional attempt at seduction. Fox puts on a show that he is desperately ill and even sits in bed affixed to an oxygen tank. In private, however, he blasts classical music and dances around the room, delighted that his perceptions of human behavior are proving to be true. The plot takes several major swings in due course, however, when one of the women ends up dead, ostensibly from an overdose of sleeping pills. However, McFly and Sarah suspect murder is afoot. The film then becomes one of those time-honored drawing room mysteries with upper crust characters matching wits with the local inspector (Adolfo Celi, marvelous in a rare comedic role.) 

To describe the plot in any further detail would necessitate providing some spoilers. Suffice it to say there are plenty of red herrings and a complex plot that will demand your constant attention or you will be hopelessly lost.  

The performances are all first rate, though Capucine (never one who mastered the light touch that these sorts of comedies require) is a bit stiff. However, Hayward and Adams pick up the slack with very funny characterizations. The scene stealer among the women, however, is Maggie Smith, who is more streetwise than any of the others suspect. As for Harrison, he seems to be having a genuine ball, chewing the scenery and dispensing bon mots that are consistently amusing. The sequence in which he dances around his bed chamber is one for the ages. 

"The Honey Pot" deserved a better fate than it received when it was released theatrically. Hopefully it will get a more appreciative audience through streaming and a Kino Lorber Blu-ray that is available.

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BY LEE PFEIFFER

"Kill a Dragon", a 1967 action-adventure production from United Artists, is the perfect example of kind of film I've praised many times before. Namely, it's a low-budget flick designed for a fast playoff (perhaps as the second feature on double bills) and a modest profit. Often, as in this case, they were marketed with terrific movie posters that often promised more sex and violence than the films delivered. Studios thrived on such mid-range fare which inevitably employed actors in leading roles who would generally be playing supporting parts in more prestigious productions. They still enjoyed enough respect and name recognition to market the films successfully internationally. "Kill a Dragon" is based in an around Hong Kong and stars Jack Palance as Rick Masters (now there's a cinematic name for a hero), who is an American jack-of-all-trades who enjoys a laid-back lifestyle with his mistress, nightclub "hostess", Alizia Gur (who memorably squared off against Martine Beswick in the gypsy catfight in "From Russia with Love".) In the umpteenth Hollywood attempt to crib from the scripts of "Seven Samurai"/"The Magnificent Seven", Masters, who specializes in maritime salvage operations, is approached by peasants from an impoverished village. They inform him that recently a ship was grounded on their island and the crew deserted it because of its cargo: a gigantic load of highly volatile nitroglycerine. The peasants offer Masters a 50/50 split of the profits if he can smuggle the goods into Hong Kong and sell it on the black market. There is a catch, however. The nitro shipment is the property of Nico Patrai (Fernando Lamas), a local crime kingpin who warns the peasants to turn over the goods or have their village destroyed. Masters accepts the assignment and contacts his frequent collaborators: Vigo (Aldo Ray), who is now relegated to hosting bus excursions for tourists, Jimmy (Hans Lee), a local aspiring boxer and martial arts expert and his British manager, Ian (Don Knight). They are outnumbered and outgunned so they must use their instincts to outwit Patrai.

"Kill a Dragon" is the kind of goofy action flick that never takes itself very seriously. It opens with what is possibly the worst title song in the history of film and presents  Latin heartthrob Fernando Lamas as a Hong Kong crime lord without a word of explanation as to how he managed to arrange this. The film is laden with Bond-style quips and the fight scenes are pretty limp under the direction of Michael Moore. (Obviously, not that Michael Moore.) But there is a great deal of fun to be found in the film. The Hong Kong locations adds an exotic element and cinematographer Emmanuel L. Rojas makes the most of it, capturing the hustle and bustle of the city center and the serenity of the surrounding areas very effectively. Palance gives a low-key performance (for him, at least) and minimizes his tendencies to ham it up. Lamas is a villain in the Bondian style and its a pleasure to see him and Palance in the requisite scenes in which they banter with witticisms and civility even though they have marked each other for death. An unusual and pleasurable aspect of the movie is that all of the Asian characters are played by Asian actors, a rarity in 1967 and they are presented in a dignified manner.

I don't want to overstate the merits of "Kill a Dragon", as it's the epitome of a "B" movie and nothing more. However, if one approaches it with those expectations, you may well find it as enjoyable as I did.

Kino Lorber has released the film on Blu-ray, a significant upgrade to MGM's previous burn-to-order DVD. Quality is very good and the original trailer is included along with a gallery of other action films from KL.

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By Lee Pfeiffer 

Director Franklin J. Schaffner was fresh off his Best Director Oscar triumph for Patton when he teamed with legendary producer Sam Spiegel for the historical epic Nicholas and Alexandra. The film was an adaptation of a best-selling book by Robert K. Massie that traced the tragic events leading to the assassination of Russia's last czar, along with his entire family. With a screenplay by the esteemed James Goldman (The Lion in Winter), the film had the potential to be another Spiegel classic. After all, Spiegel had teamed with director David Lean to produce two of the great cinematic masterpieces: The Bridge on the River Kwai and Lawrence of Arabia. Despite their mutual triumphs, Lean (like most people in the film industry) came to loathe the gruff Spiegel, whose mercurial temper knew no bounds. He would chastise gaffers and esteemed directors alike and Lean had had enough. When he began production on his 1965 blockbuster Doctor Zhivago, Spiegel's ego was bruised because Lean had teamed this time with producer Carlo Ponti. If Lean had made a boxoffice smash out of the Russian Revolution, Spiegel would prove he could do the same thing. Thus, Nicholas and Alexandra was borne more out of revenge than inspiration. In addition to hiring Schaffner for the project, Spiegel conspicuously brought two key members of the Zhivago team with him: production designer John Box and cinematographer Freddie Young. However, Spiegel's finances were not adequate to afford the big name stars he had hoped to cast in the lead roles. Thus, he was forced to cast relative unknowns from the British stage: Michael Jayston and Janet Suzman. To give the film some boxoffice allure, he cast a "Who's Who" of British acting royalty in supporting roles, comprised of legendary established stars and up-and-comers. They included Laurence Olivier, Michael Redgrave, Brian Cox, Ian Holm, Jack Hawkins (whose part was dubbed due to the actor's recent throat surgery), Harry Andrews, Tom Baker, John Wood, Roy Dotrice, Alexander Knox, Eric Porter and Timothy West. 

The story, steeped in historical accuracy, finds Nicholas ill-prepared to serve as czar over a troubled Russia beset by devastating economic conditions. With the majority of his people facing starvation and a daily struggle to survive, Nicholas resides in palatial splendor in Petersburg with his headstrong wife, Alexandra. Nicholas is a good man in his own way. He cares about the peasants but lives in a bubble that prevents him from relating to their day-to-lives. Born of privilege, he knows no other life. The Romanovs have ruled Russia for three hundred consecutive years and he sees no reason for the tradition to stop with his dynasty. He is delighted when Alexandra presents him with a male heir to the throne, but the boy is sickly and suffers from life-threatening hemophilia. Still, it's a happy family with Nicholas doting over his daughters and young son. He seems oblivious that there is great resentment towards his wife, who manipulates his every move and keeps him cut off from personal friends. He ignores warnings from his ministers that he must tone down Alexandra's lavish spending habits, especially during the poor economic climate. A protest by peasants in 1905 builds tension further when a mishap causes the army to fire on the people, slaughtering hundreds of them. The seeds of revolution continue to grow with the agitator Lenin leading the charge in hopes of establishing a Bolshevik ruling party and deposing the czar. Nicholas' ill-fated decision to enter WWI against Germany brings about catastrophic results. Not only are his armies no match against the Kaiser's but Alexandra is of German heritage, which further builds public resentment against her. As Russian forces face devastating defeats on the battlefields, revolution spreads quickly through the country. Lenin's popularity grows, especially when he promises to make immediate peace with Germany if he is given power. Before long, the czar finds himself essentially powerless. He and his family are arrested but he still believes they will live an idyllic and peaceful life in exile. Instead, they are shunted between distant locations and housed in barely-livable conditions as the new order debates their fate. As we all know, it is a tragic one with Nicholas and his family abruptly shot to death by an assassination squad.

These dramatic developments play out slowly but in an interesting manner throughout the film's 183-minute running time. The performances are all first rate, with Jayston especially good as the sympathetic (if clueless) czar. Suzman is every bit his match as the egotistical Alexandra and each member of the supporting cast provides a gem of a performance, with Olivier and Harry Andrews especially impressive and Tom Baker stealing the entire movie with his mesmerizing performance as Rasputin, the crazed monk who had a Svengali-like influence over Alexandra, much to her husband's disgust. Yet, despite those attributes and a rich production design, the film never emotionally moves the viewer as much as one would expect. The characters remain somewhat opaque and the great historical events that affect them are only given marginal background and explanation. Schaffner clearly wanted to emphasize personal relationships over visual splendor and by and large he succeeded. However, there is some emotional component missing here. He crafted an impressive movie on many levels but one that perhaps did not fulfill its ultimate potential. The movie was greeted with the customary (some would say obligatory) Oscar nominations generally accorded historical epics. It was nominated for 6 awards  (including nods for  Best Picture and Actress) and won in two technical categories. Nevertheless, overall critical response was mixed and the film was considered a boxoffice disappointment. Schaffner would go on to make three more impressive films (Papillon, Islands in the Stream and The Boys From Brazil) and several flops before passing away in 1989 at age 69. Spiegel never regained the mojo he once enjoyed in the industry. He would only make two more relatively low-key films (The Last Tycoon, Betrayal) before he died in 1985 at age 84.

Nicholas and Alexandra may not be the classic Spiegel and Schaffner had envisioned, but in this age of dumbed-down action movies, it plays much better than it did upon its initial release in 1971. It's a film that educates even as it entertains.

(The film is currently streaming on Amazon Prime.)

BY JOHN M. WHALEN

The setting is early 20^th Century India-- the location, an ancient burial site. Workmen dig up a grave and discover what appears to be a corpse of a man, sitting huddled over in the dirt with his head tucked down between his knees, his arms wrapped around his shins. The workmen lift the body out of the grave carefully, slowly, delicately and place it in a palanquin and carry it to the entrance of a cave. They carry the body down a long flight of steps, past an endless row of statues of ancient Indian gods. They arrive in the bowels of a temple and climb up to the top of a huge altar hundreds of feet high and begin the process of unlocking his limbs from their knotted positions, pull nose plugs from his nostrils, and ear plugs from his ears. They open his mouth and slowly pull his tongue loose. They pour water into his mouth and it begins to foam. Slowly the corpse’s eyes open. Thus does Yogi Ramagani (Bernhard Goetzke) return from the Land of the Dead.

He looks up and sees Prince Ayan III, Maharaja of Bengal (Conrad Veidt), standing over him and says: “You have brought me back from the dead. I am bound to obey you. What is your command?” The maharaja replies: “You are omniscient, Rami. You already know what you must do.” With that the Yogi proceeds to walk slowly, ever so slowly, along the edge of the high altar on which they stand and takes a step into empty space. Instead of falling, the Yogi simply fades from view. And thus, with this 12-minute sequence, in which everything moves as if in a slow-motion dream, begins “The Indian Tomb,” one of the strangest, most engrossing, if not mesmerizing, films, you will have ever seen.

Based on a novel by German novelist Thea von Harbou, who co-wrote the screenplay with the legendary Fritz Lang, “The Indian Tomb,” was directed by Joe May, who directed “Homecoming” (1928), and “Asphalt” (1930) during the heyday of German cinema but who is little known today. May, like Lang and Harbou, emigrated to America to escape the Nazis, but, unlike Lang, failed to strike pay dirt in American films—some sources say, because of his dictatorial style of direction and his refusal to speak English. Perhaps his best known American film was “The Invisible Man Returns.” But in 1921, May was big in Germany and was able to raise a budget of 20 million Deutschemarks for “The Indian Tomb,” the most money ever spent on a movie in Germany up until that time. And every mark is right up there on the screen. The sets May built for the film are gigantic. The maharaja’s palace is a huge structure, with towers reaching high into the sky. The set includes an amphitheater for the prince’s pet tigers to play in. There’s a cave below the palace housing a torture chamber, where the maharaja’s enemies lie chained up in painful-looking positions. There’s another cave for lepers, and a high mountain location with an Indiana Jones-style rope bridge that gets some spectacular use by the picture’s end. Over the one hundred years that have passed, the sets have crumbled into ruins, but pieces of it can still be found in the German countryside.

The plot of “The Indian Tomb” is as outsized, bizarre and spectacular as the setting. The film was originally presented as two separate features: “The Mission of the Yogi” and “The Tiger of Eschnapur.” The mission the maharaja sends Yogi Rami on takes him to Great Britain, where he suddenly appears out of thin air in the study of Herbert Rowland (Olaf Fonss), an architect who dreams of one day designing something as grand as the Taj Mahal. By sheer coincidence, the yogi has come to offer Rowland a huge sum of money to come to India and build a tomb that will honor the beauty of the maharaja’s lady love, Princess Savitri (Elena Morena). Rowland jumps at the chance even though it means his planned wedding to Irene Amundsen (Mia May) will have to be postponed. The only condition the yogi puts on his offer is that he must leave for India within the hour and can tell no one where he’s going. Rowland agrees, but secretly leaves Irene a note explaining everything. The yogi’s not fooled, however. While he and Rowland take off on a steamship for the Orient, Ramigani’s ghost-like hand appears in Rowland’s study and grabs the note. But Irene, fearing for her fiancee’s safety, is not a woman to be trifled with. She still manages to find out where he’s gone and takes the next steamship east.

Bernhard Goetske, an actor totally unknown today, gives an amazing performance as Yogi Ramigani. His stone-faced expression and blazing eyes, somehow lit up by cinematographer Werner Brandes to look like they’re on fire, make you believe he could in fact walk through walls and impose his will on others hundreds of miles away. Mia May, who was Joe May’s real life wife, is also convincing as the determined bride-to-be who overcomes numerous obstacles to find her man.

Conrad Veidt (perhaps best known as Col. Strasser in “Casablanca”) gives a powerful performance as Prince Ayan, a man with a magnetic presence who is both passionate and obsessed by the woman he loved. The pieces of the plot finally come together when Rowland discovers that Princess Savitri isn’t dead and that the prince wants him to build the mausoleum not to entomb a dead princess, but to bury her alive for betraying their love. She had an affair with Mac Alan (Paul Richter) an English military man, whose hobby is hunting tigers.

It’s a complex tale that takes four hours to come to a resolution. One of the reasons for the film’s length is the glacial pace with which May directed it. Everything is done with meticulous attention to detail, with the actors moving at half speed. The camera is stationary most of the time. The soundtrack, recorded in 2019 by Irena and Vojtek Have,l consists of exotic droning instruments, gongs and percussion. Some reviewers dislike the slow pace of the film and complain about the monotony of the soundtrack. But I found it a refreshing contrast to the lightning-fast speed of most films today with the emphasis on action coming at you at the rate of 100 different shots a minute. If you accept the film for what it is, and have your favorite refreshment handy, you can almost have a nice out of body experience with “The Indian Tomb.”

Kino Lorber has done a remarkable job of putting the 2K transfer of both parts of “The Indian Tomb” on a single disc. The picture is sharp and clear. The soundtrack is in Dolby stereo. Also included on the disc is “Turbans Over Waltersdorf,” (2022—45 minutes) a visual essay written by David Cairns and Fiona Watson that reveals much about the historical significance of the film. “The Indian Tomb” is highly recommended.

(Note: If searching for the film on IMDB, look under "Mysteries of India", an alternative title for the movie.)

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Photo: Todd Garbarini. All rights reserved.

BY TODD GARBARINI

The year 1976 was a phenomenal time for films that went into production. George Lucas’s space opera, Star Wars, began principal photography in March; Steven Spielberg, fresh off the success of Jaws, was given carte blanche to bring Close Encounters of the Third Kind to the screen and began shooting in May; and Dario Argento, who became emboldened by the financial success of his latest and arguably best film to date, Profundo Rosso (known in the U.S. as Deep Red), embarked upon Suspiria, a murder mystery involving a dance academy hiding in plain sight while doubling as a home to a coven of witches, which began filming in July. Suspiria is just one of a handful of films directed by Signor Argento over a fifty-plus year career, and it’s also being showcased in full-blown 4K Digital Cinema Projection as part of the sinisterly titled Beware of Dario Argento: A 20-Film Retrospective at the Walter Reade Theater in New York City now through June 29^th. You can see the full calendar at this link here. The one omission from the roster of titles is his 2009 thriller Giallo, starring Adrien Brody, which was stopped from being released due to the actor’s failure to be paid for his role until he successfully sued the producers.

Beginning on Friday, June 17^th, the first film shown in the retrospective was his debut outing, the phenomenal The Bird With the Crystal Plumage from 1970, lensed by straordinario cineasta Vittorio Storaro, on a double bill with his equally fine thriller Tenebre/Tenebrae from 1982. Bird is amazing in that it was the first film that he ever directed…ever. There were no interminable student films made prior to it. Somehow, following his years as a newspaper film critic and having contributed to the 1968 western Once Upon a Time in the West, he made a visually dazzling cinematic yarn loosely inspired by Fredric Brown’s 1949 novel The Screaming Mimi (itself made into the 1958 film of the same title by Gerd Oswald starring Anita Ekberg), though there are also some similarities to the creepy 1949 “Birdsong for a Murderer” episode of the Inner Sanctum radio drama that starred the late great Boris Karloff.

The standout in this series is clearly Suspiria, with its amazingly bright color palette and virtuoso camerawork. Also of note, at least for die-hard Argento completists, is his sole non-thriller/horror outing, the 1973 Italian comedy set during the Italian Revolution of 1848 called The Five Days (Le Cinque Giornate) shot by cinematographer Luigi Kuveiller who would go on to lens Deep Red (Profondo Rosso) (1975). While available on Youtube in Italian, this is an extremely rare presentation of the film with English subtitles – restored in 4K to boot. It’s also quite funny; not on the level of the Pink Panther films, but enough to elicit audible chuckles. The seldom-seen Inferno (1980), his beautiful follow-up to Suspiria, will also be shown, the sole title to be showcased in 35mm.

The Italian Maestro appeared in-person at several of the screenings over the weekend, most notably on Sunday in a Q & A session emceed by Argento expert Maitland McDonagh, the author of the excellent book Broken Mirrors/Broken Minds: The Dark Dreams of Dario Argento, originally published in 1991. Following the sold-out screening of his 1985 film Phenomena, a phantasmagorical fairytale/murder mystery that was presented to an audience of mostly younger fans who, judging by their applause and reactions to the film, were new to it. The plot of Phenomena has long been the subject of ridicule and derision by critics and fans alike since its initial release. The inevitable complaints about the film range from the bad dubbing and stiff performances. If the film’s title does not sound familiar, that could be attributed to the fact that Phenomena was severely cut by 34 minutes and retitled Creepers when it opened in the States on Friday, August 30, 1985. Fortunately, the 116-minute cut of the film was shown. Signor Argento responded through an interpreter to Ms. Donagh’s questions about the film.

Photo: Todd Garbarini. All rights reserved.

Maitland McDonagh: I've always thought that Phenomena was extraordinary because it's a story that is sort of both a cross between the operatic and the fairy tale. Dario, what were the origins of Phenomena?

Dario Argento: I was on vacation with my mother on a small island, and we were listening to Radio Monte Carlo. There was a person telling a story about how in Germany they had discovered that by examining insects, they could discover when a person had died. I was very struck by this and when I returned to Rome, I went to see an entomologist and asked him how this was possible. He told me, for example, that if somebody fired a gun off in a room full of insects, that the insects would die. He also explained that for a whole series of reasons, that it would be possible to identify a person’s exact date of death using insects, which is described in-depth in the film.

MM: The insects are one of the most remarkable parts of this film. Working with them must have been a great challenge. How did you work with your crew and your on-set insect experts to get the insects to almost be their own characters in their own right?

DA: For this movie, I needed thousands of flies. I rented a small theater and completely sealed it off. I put some fly larvae in there and every week I would throw some raw meat in the room. Eventually, after several weeks, they turned into a mass of flies that just went after the actor the way that we had intended and that’s how we shot the end of the film. The insects in the scenes with Donald Pleasence, who plays the entomologist, were all manipulated by insect handlers on the set and through editing.

MM: One of the things that really struck me after having viewed this film after many years, was that it tells the story of two abandoned females. First, there is Jennifer Corvino played by Jennifer Connelly, whose mother leaves the family on a Christmas morning, and her father is currently away shooting a movie in the Philippines, unable to be reached by telephone. The other female is Inga, the chimpanzee, who loses her friend, played wonderfully by Donald Pleasence. 

DA: Tanga, the chimpanzee who plays Inga in the film, suffered greatly from the loss of her friend (the Donald Pleasence character) halfway through shooting. She escaped from the set. We were working and shooting right near a large forest, and she went into that forest for almost three days. As you can well imagine, she became very hungry and so the forest rangers put out some food and they were able to lure her back out. Tanga was a remarkable creature; I would tell her what to do and she would simply do it. I recall that in the film there is a scene where she must break up the wooden slats on the shutters in order to get into her friend’s house. I showed her how to do it, and she did it exactly how I showed her. Jennifer Corvino is also a very sad character. Even though a lot of her classmates must think that she’s so lucky to have this famous father for an actor, she’s very much alone and off by herself. Because of this, she becomes prey to a very evil person. This is the story that I wanted to tell, the loneliness of a young girl. This was a girl that was my daughter’s age at the time. Jennifer Connelly was thirteen when she played this role, and she did it with a tremendous amount of elegance.

MM: I also love the way that you use the Swiss locations in the film, especially the trees and the wind. They really work well in conveying the mindset of the characters and the larger forces of nature that are at work.

DA: I have the character of the professor talk about the foehn, the wind in the Swiss Alps, with the link into the insects. At the very start of the film, where we see the trees and the wind, there is this little house set against this vast landscape. It looks like something right out of a fairy tale, sort of like a gingerbread house. This young Danish tourist who is accidentally abandoned by her tourist bus, is all alone in the midst of this panorama of forests, mountains and trees. There’s this awful thing that is about to happen. The girl who plays her is my first daughter, Fiore Argento. I really studied for this film very thoroughly. I put a lot of time and effort into it. I did my best to create this, as you so put it, operatic fairytale. I did it with great love, and I especially appreciate the wonderful performance by Jennifer Connelly and what she had to offer. She was thirteen years-old when we shot the film. This was her first big movie, and I was just dazzled by her beauty, her intelligence, and her grace.

Photo: Todd Garbarini. All rights reserved.

Dark Glasses

The evening was rounded out with the premiere of his new film Dark Glasses (Occhiali Neri), his first film in ten years, and while it fails to crack the Top Ten Best Argento Flicks list, it’s still worth seeing in a theater. It was shot in mid-2021 in Italian and has English subtitles. Written over twenty years ago and consigned to a drawer in 2002 after the financier went bankrupt and ended up in prison, Dark Glasses was resurrected by his daughter, actress Asia Argento, who stumbled across the script, read it, and urged him to make it. Described as a “tender thriller”, this is highly misleading as there is a fair amount of brutal violence and explicit gore, far more than anything seen in Profondo Rosso, Suspiria, Tenebrae, Phenomena, or even Opera – arguably the last truly great film he has made – the films often cited as his most violent and most censored. If I had to compare Dark Glasses to anything in his filmography of the past 35 years following Opera, it would be Sleepless (Non Ho Sonno) (2001).

Diana (Ilenia Pastorelli) is a matter-of-fact prostitute who finds herself blinded in an accident caused by a maniac out to kill women in her line of work. Her misfortune puts her in contact with a young orphaned Asian boy named Chin (Andrea Zhang) as well as a woman named Rita from the Association for the Blind and Visually Impaired (Asia Argento, in a refreshingly realistic and subdued performance, with her own voice to boot!) who works with people to help them get on with their lives. There is also a seeing-eye dog who comes to the rescue to help our protagonists out of danger. While some of the plot points feel a little silly and predictable, the film possesses an extremely atmospheric score by Arnaud Rebotini. Missing from the film are the very directorial flourishes that fans have come to love and expect from the Maestro’s golden era, his genius method of cinematically propelling a story forward with astonishing set pieces: there are no cameras booring into brains or over buildings, or excessive jump-cuts, etc. The film boasts a decent performance from Ilenia Pastorelli and young Andrea Zhang whose characterization of Chin is ultimately sympathetic as the Mandarin youth the audience roots for. One of the director’s shortest films at just 90 minutes give or take, the lack of visual splendor may be a result of the director’s getting on in years – he is currently 81 – and unwillingness to perform time-consuming set-ups. Or it may be having to make a film on a smaller budget.

Once wonders what fate has befallen the director’s as-yet-unfilmed project, The Sandman, first announce in the fall of 2014. As of this writing, there is still no word on it, however in the meantime, Dark Glasses fits the bill as a bright spot in the director’s later filmography.

BY LEE PFEIFFER

Kino Lorber has released the 1975 Charles Bronson crime thriller "Breakout" as a Blu-ray special edition. Bronson was riding high at the time, coming off the sensational success of "Death Wish". The film was originally supposed to star Kris Kristofferson under the direction of Michael Ritchie but those plans soon fell apart. Bronson took over the lead role with veteran director Tom Gries at the helm. The film finds Bronson well-cast as Nick Colton, a shady businessman/con man/grifter who operates a variety of small time business ventures on the Mexican border with his partner Hawk Hawkins (pre-kooky Randy Quaid.) Nick is living hand-to-mouth when he is approached by Ann Wagner (Jill Ireland) with a proposition to help her husband, equally shady rich guy Jay (Robert Duvall), escape from a Mexican prison where he has been sentenced after being framed for a murder. Time is of the essence because Jay is in declining health and may well be too weak to help effect his own escape. Colton and Hawk's first attempt to spring him ends disastrously and they barely escape back to America. Colton concocts an audacious plan for a second escape attempt that involves split-second timing. He will arrange for a helicopter to land in the courtyard of the prison and in the inevitable confusion, Jay is to make his way on board and presumably fly away to freedom. In order to pull off the caper, Nick enlists the help of a professional helicopter pilot as well as Myrna (Sheree North), a married ex-call girl who will be used to distract some of the guards when the copter lands inside the prison. When the pilot gets cold feet, Nick is forced to fly the chopper himself despite the fact that he only has minimum experience doing so. Another complication ensues when Jay is confined to the prison hospital and doubts he will be able to be in the courtyard at the precise moment Colton lands. 

"Breakout" was inspired by an incredible 1971 real life escape in which an American was indeed rescued by helicopter from a Mexican prison.  The screenplay has some other sub-plots that are poorly developed and quite confusing, but some of which are obviously related to the actual escape including some rumored involvement by the CIA. In the film, Jay Wagner's frame-up takes place at the behest of his evil tycoon grandfather, Harris Wagner (John Huston) for reasons that never become clear. Apparently, Harris is concerned that Jay may inherit some control over the company Harris runs with an iron fist, though these plot points remain murky as does the involvement of some CIA characters.  Another potential plot device, which finds Nick and Ann obviously attracted to each other, also goes nowhere. The film has a rushed look to it and there are some unsatisfying aspects caused by the movie's rather abrupt ending. The movie studio, Columbia, apparently felt the film was a rather weak production and thus gambled on a massive ad campaign that probably cost more than the film's modest budget. Ads for "Breakout" were everywhere: in newspapers, on TV and on radio. Additionally, the film opened wide in 1,000 American theaters, which was a big number in 1975. The movie was dismissed by critics with Variety calling it a "cheap exploitation pic", and indeed the main poster artwork (different from the Blu-ray sleeve artwork) and graphics looked surprisingly amateurish considering this was a golden age for film poster designs. Nevertheless, Bronson's appeal seemed to override these negative factors. "Breakout" proved to be a major hit and helped cement his status as a top boxoffice attraction , though his clout would gradually diminish henceforth. 

Scene stealer: Sheree North in posed cheesecake publicity photo for the film.

Like a lot of older movies, "Breakout" probably plays better today than it did at the time of its initial release. Bronson is in top form and gives an unusually energetic performance that allows him to stress his rarely-used talent for light comedy. The only other standout member of the cast is Sheree North, as the epitome of the sexy cougar. She's a fast-talking, tough cookie who parades about in sexy lingerie in an attempt to seduce Bronson. (Surprisingly, Bronson's character does not engage in any sexual action throughout the movie.) Robert Duvall is largely underutilized in a low-key role and performance that could have been credibly played by almost any other competent actor.  Huston's presence in the movie is disappointing, also. His role is confined to a few scattered cameo appearances that probably don't last more than two minutes. Some other familiar faces include Paul Mantee, Alejandro Rey, Roy Jenson and the Mexican cinema's favorite bad guy, Emilio Fernandez. As for Bronson teaming for the umpteenth time with real life wife Jill Ireland, the gimmick was wearing thin. Some screen couples could team without wearing out their welcome. Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton made many films together but they were always playing entirely different characters in entirely different scenarios. Bronson and Ireland, despite being competent actors, were no Liz and Dick. It became clear that their films together were largely made possible by Bronson's clout with the studios. Although Ireland always gave credible performances, she never lit up the screen. After a while the sheer predictability of their on-screen teamings probably undermined Bronson's popularity because it constrained him from interacting with other actresses. It was a trap Clint Eastwood also fell into for a period of time when he cast Sondra Locke in the female lead in six of his movies over a period of only seven years. Despite these gripes, it must be said that director Tom Gries keeps the pace moving briskly and there isn't a dull moment. He also knows how to milk some genuine suspense out of the helicopter escape scene, which is exceptionally well photographed by the great cinematographer Lucien Ballard. Jerry Goldsmith also contributes a typically fine score. The movie was shot in a wide number of locations including California, Mexico, Spain and France, where the impressive edifice that serves as the prison is located.

The Kino Lorber Blu-ray looks great and features a very informative commentary track by Paul Talbot, author of the excellent "Bronson's Loose" books, which analyze his action movies. There is also a trailer, TV spot and radio spot. In all, an impressive package for a fun '70s adventure flick. Recommended.

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BY HANK REINEKE

I will admit to a degree of bias up front. I’ve never been particularly enamored of MGM’s 1941 interpret of Robert Louis Stevenson’s famed novella Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. And it occasionally bothers me that I’m not. The so-called “Golden Age” of the Horror film (1931-1948) has long been, and will likely always remain, my favorite cinematic era. Since the start of the home video revolution I dutifully acquired (and subsequently upgraded) practically every monochrome classic – OK, and some not-so-classic – genre films issued from that era to hold in my private collection. It was of little concern to me if a film was the product of a major studio (Universal, Columbia, MGM, Warner Bros. et. al.) or of a low-rent independent (Monogram, Republic or PRC). Practically every U.S and British film – as well as few from the continent – would find its way into my home archive.

So it’s telling that prior to this Blu ray debut of Victor Fleming’s Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, recently issued as part of the Warner Bros. Archive Collection, the only copy I’ve held in my collection is the old Laserdisc of the title. Published in 1986 as part of MGM’s “Great Books on Video” series. I simply never had the desire to channel any additional discretionary income into an upgrade of the film. So in some way the arrival of this High-Def edition by WAC was welcome. It has allowed me the opportunity to reassess long-held opinions or prejudices.

Similar to Stoker’s Dracula (1897) and Shelley’s Frankenstein (1818) monster, Stevenson’s Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1886) stands as the third point of the immortal crown of literary monsters: the trio of select ghouls to have made a seamless transition from written page to the stage to the silver screen. Though the most celebrated earliest cinematic adaptation was the 1920 Paramount silent classic featuring John Barrymore as the titular rogue, even that film version wasn’t the earliest. Stevenson’s novella had been brought to the silent screen on a number of earlier occasions (1908-1914), though several of those earliest efforts are now thought forever lost in time.

Of the sound films, my favorite big screen adaptation of the novella will forever be Rouben Mamaoulian’s 1931 Paramount remake featuring Fredric March. In some manner of speaking, Mamaoulian’s version is a bit more faithful to Stevenson’s original work than MGM’s 1941 version, in other ways not. Stevenson’s conception of Mr. Hyde presents him not as physical monster with deformities, but merely a compassionless, selfish human whose heart has grown cold and actions sadistic. Hyde is described by Jekyll’s lawyer friend, Gabriel John Utterson (a major character of the novella completely missing from the Fleming version), as a sinister fellow with a “displeasing smile,” one who appeared “pale and dwarfish.” Stevenson’s Hyde gave off “an impression of deformity without any nameable malformation.”

But following in the wake of Universal’s box-office success in 1931 with Tod Browning’s Dracula and James Whale’s Frankenstein, it was in Paramount’s interest to portray Fredric March’s Mr. Hyde as a feral beast in a physical as well as psychological sense. The applied iconic make-up conjured by Wally Westmore for March’s Hyde was certainly appealing to the “monster kid” in me. When I was first introduced to images of March’s Mr. Hyde first in the pages of Famous Monsters of Filmland and later via the (very) occasional television broadcast, I was left duly impressed. As I was with the imaginative camera-trickery rigged by Mamaoulian and cinematographer Karl Struss. The sight of March’s mirror-reflected transformation from Jekyll into Hyde remains a stunning and impressive optical effect to behold even in 2022. It must have been mind-blowing to audiences some ninety-one years prior.

It’s not entirely clear why MGM chose to move forward with their own version of the Stevenson work, but in November of 1940 the trades were reporting that MGM was planning their own version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde to feature actor Spencer Tracy in the lead role. The following month it was announced in Box Office that veteran screenwriter John Lee Mahin (who had earlier adapted Stevenson’s Treasure Island for MGM in 1934) had been assigned scripting duties. In an interesting example of casting against type, the Pin-Up model and screen vixen Lana Turner was contracted to play the role of a good girl done wrong, with Swedish good girl Ingrid Bergman signed to portray a Cockney barmaid. It must be said, both actresses pull off their respective challenges rather admirably. Production on Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde was to commence on Wednesday, February 5, 1941.

Despite the overall gloss of the MGM remake, Spencer Tracy’s Jekyll and Hyde is not nearly as enigmatic nor tortured a character as March’s was. Tracy’s a great actor of course, no one is contesting that. And I’m certainly not knocking his performance in the film; I’m sure he does all he can in role with the material given him. But as the most essential component of cinema is in its visuals, Tracy’s Hyde falls short - even if his presentation is more aligned with Stevenson’s original descriptions. Tracy’s Hyde is violent and malignant and an unpleasant suitor to both fiancé Beatrix Emery (Turner) and Ivy Peterson (Bergman), the maligned barmaid he uses and abuses. But Tracy’s Hyde remains a decidedly human monster in his appearance. Yes, he’s sadistic and manipulative but his soul conceivably, at least, might still be saved with a bit of religion, a session of drug counselling, or an anger-management class or two.

David Hanna, a drama critic and entertainment writer for the Los Angeles Daily News was hardly the only critic who, upon the film’s release, registered disappointment with Tracy’s physical non-transformation into the villainous Mr. Hyde. There had been a lot of Hollywood press ballyhoo that the sound stage was to be closed to all visitors when Tracy’s Jekyll-to-Hyde scenes were to be lensed. So the eventual ho-hum big reveal of the new “Mr. Hyde” was a crushing disappointment. Hanna sighed, “The first time Tracy changed character the make-up looked as though he just needed a brace on his teeth and a little filling to make him appear a most respected member of society.”

This opinion was shared by London’s Picturegoer magazine. Their critic offered, the “scenes when Tracy assumes a grotesque make-up are included to make one smile, rather than creep.” It’s true that Tracy’s Hyde is an underwhelming sight to behold. No physical personification of evil flashes before us. Tracy looks like someone who merely awoke from a night’s bender: mussed hair, sagging dark bags under crowfeet lined eyes, slightly askew, bushy eyebrows and a leering countenance.

Though Fleming’s Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde was far from a box-office disappointment, it certainly wasn’t the impressive, timeless effort his two most recent pictures, The Wizard of Oz and Gone with the Wind, had been – and would forever remain. Most critics seemed to agree Paramount’s 1931 was by far the better film. Though some argued Tracy was so capable an actor that he required “no gargantuan make-up to denote his transformation from the good Dr. Jekyll into the evil Mr. Hyde,” others countered this 1941 remake had problematic issues beyond make-up expectations. Mahin’s script offered a sprinkled layer of Freudian psychoanalysis into the mix, a reinterpret sure to offer cinemagoers a lesser experience. As the critic from Picturegoer noted, “March’s ape man make-up, crude though it was” managed to convey “a stronger sense of horror than Tracy’s milder conception, which comes as sheer anti-climax.”

There is an interesting “art against expectation” side note to all this. With the box-office of Hyde underperforming, Variety reported in September of 1941 that MGM had chosen to “revise its national campaign on the picture.” The original campaign (“A Good Woman – A Bad Woman. He Needed the Love of Both!”) hyped the film’s romantic elements at the expense of its (admittedly minor) horrific elements. A new campaign was struck, the “too prettified” and posh original publicity stills withdrawn. Replacement images were ordered, MGM choosing to “slice into the film for a blowup of Spencer Tracy’s face in the ‘Mr. Hyde’ impersonation.” This tactic and a new accompanying blurb (“It CHILLS you! Half-Man! Half-Monster!”) proved so successful in such markets as Detroit, that subsequent regional exhibitors were requesting use of the same ad mats used in that city’s exploitation campaign.

It’s possible there’s a gaggle of English professors who prefer the 1941 version above all others, but neither this version nor the better 1931 film is faithful to the original source material. Mahin script is interesting as it mines and mixes elements of both Stevenson’s work with ideas conjured by Oscar-nominated ’31 screenwriters Percy Heath and Samuel Hoffenstein. This is an “actor’s film.” There’s lots of long and drowsy oral discourses that take place in tony parlors, but as an adventure of any sort it’s exciting only in the smallest of episodes. Fleming and Mahin’s version might have made for a compelling, intimate stage show, but as a film it’s overlong and not terribly involving.

In its review of July 1941, a scribe from Variety hit the nail on the head: “It may be that Fleming, keeping closer to the literal than spirit of the text, missed some of the more subtle points.” ’31 Director Mamaoulian would likely agree with that assessment. He boasted a few years hence that his version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde remained the “best one ever made.” “Spencer Tracy is a very competent actor,” Mamaoulian mused to the St. Louis Post Democrat. “But the man who plays Jekyll has to be superbly handsome. As Fredric March was. Then the changeover to Hyde is gripping. Tracy was miscast.” ‘Tis true in MGM’s 1941 version the potion brewed by Dr. Jekyll this time out was, at best, a weak tea.

This Warner Archive Collection Blu ray edition of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is presented here in a pristine 1080p High Definition 16x9 1.37.1 and DTS-HD Master 2.0 Mono Audio. There’s hardly a visual blemish throughout, and it is doubtful admirers of the film will find any fault with this transfer. This is a bare bones release, the set’s only special features are the film’s original trailer and removable English subtitles.

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BY DARREN ALLISON

It’s certainly great to see Chris' Soundtrack Corner back on the pages of Cinema Retro. It’s been a little while, but rest assured, Christian Riedrich and his team have been hard at work and it’s always worth the wait.

CSC has released no less than three brand new soundtracks, all of which are essentially their world premiere debuts. Sure, if you deep long and hard enough you may discover an odd track or a popular main title that has previously surfaced here and there or perhaps on some obscure library compilation – but hey, good luck with that search, should you wish to undertake it.

Across these three releases you will certainly unearth a delightful range of styles and moods as well as sampling various flavours of the exotic Mediterranean.

Daniele Patucchi’s Il Sorriso Del Ragno (1971) (CSC 031) sets us on our way rather nicely.

This rarely seen 1971 Italian film (translated as, The Spider's Smile) was recognised more by its international title, Web of Deception. It was the only film directed by Massimo Castellani, a more established second unit director who had enjoyed greater success as a script supervisor. Based on a script written by Italo Gasperini and Armando Morandi, with dialogue by Fabio Piccioni, Il Sorriso Del Ragno, this is a crime thriller disguised as a roaming travelogue. With locales ranging from France to multiple regions of Greece, all of which was captured beautifully by cinematographer Giorgio Tonti,– it was pretty much guaranteed that both cast and crew would enjoy their opportunity in the sun- soaked regions.

The story involves private investigator Tony Driscoll; a ladies' man perhaps, but he also has a good reputation when it involves recovering stolen goods. So when thieves make off with $5 million in jewels from a French bank, Driscoll is hired to get them back. However, certain questions point fingers at Driscoll and the film’s plot makes the most of this twist up until its conclusion.

A self-taught musician, composer Daniele Patucchi was born in 1945 in Turin. By the time he began writing and performing music professionally, he was adept in a wide range of styles, from jazz and rock to classical and displayed a certain amount of flair when it came to digital synthesizers – all of which served him well over 35 movie soundtrack scores. His music for Il Sorriso Del Ragno is based around five central musical styles. Three of them- Main, Suspense and Action themes- occupy the majority of the score's structure and serve to enhance the adventure, tension, and intrigue as the story unfolds. Additional musical motifs signify more regional themes and local instrumentation. Acoustic guitar and Greek mandolin in particular feature prominently and work to wonderful effect throughout.

Il Sorriso Del Ragno is really enjoyable little score. There’s plenty of variation, but never too much. It never spills over into a heavy clash of styles, and retains a comforting, common thread. Christian Riedrich’s pin sharp production and remastering by Stefan Betke is what we have come to expect. Only three tracks have been previously released. Additionally, five tracks that were not used in the movie have been added as bonus tracks: alternate or varied versions composed for the movie or re-edited for inclusion on one of CAM's promotional library music albums. The CD includes a 12-page illustrated booklet by Aletta Heinsohn and features detailed, exclusive notes on the film and its score by film music journalist Randall D. Larson.

Chris' Soundtrack Corner’s second score release is another by Daniele Patucchi, Sans Sommation (1973) (CSC 032). This was a much harder hitting German-French-Italian co-production (released in the UK as Without Appeal and Internationally as Without Warning). Made by French director Bruno Gantillon, Sans Sommation was a tougher, straight-shooting thriller which again presented composer Daniele Patucchi the opportunity to demonstrate his diverse range of talents.

Maurice Ronet stars as Raoul Maury, a former Police inspector who made a seriously bad career move when he attempted to take down the son of a prominent politician on drug charges. As a result, Maury finds himself demoted to the role of archivist in the police records department. When it is discovered that Maury bears a striking resemblance to Lt. Kieffer, an associate of wanted mercenary Pierre Capra, he is reinstated in order to impersonate Kieffer in order to get close to Capra and assassinate him. However, conflicting acts of suspicion and trust will all head for collision and loyalties will become strained and tested to the full.

Patucchi's film compositions were plentiful throughout the 1970s and '80s. Sans Sommation is one of more than 35 European movie soundtracks he composed throughout the 1970s and '80s. His gift for tuneful melodies served him well in this score. Its opening theme in particular offers a dusty, smooth Jazz trumpet and for the first couple of tracks the ride seems distinctly mellow and easy-going. But don’t get fooled, by the time ‘Elikiller’ kicks in we are on much tougher, off road territory and the bold, brassy action cues are allowed to take full flight. There’s a good degree of suspenseful tracks, too, that really build nicely along with some very cool Hammond organ playing on display. The single central theme is a brisk, high-energy, driving motif that continuously helps the score race forward.

The album is produced again by Christian Riedrich and mastered this time by Manmade Mastering – all of which results in a big, fully rounded sound. The main score consists of 12 tracks with 3 bonus tracks included. The CD is accompanied by a 12-page illustrated booklet designed by Aletta Heinsohn and featuring detailed, exclusive notes on the film and its score by film music journalist Randall D. Larson, who deconstructs the score's elements in deeper detail.

Finally, Ingrid Sulla Strada (1973) (CSC 036 rounds up this excellent trilogy of scores and sees a welcome release from composer Carlo Savina. Ingrid Sulla Strada is an Italian psychological drama written and directed by Brunello Rondi. Rondi was arguably better known as a script-writer and script consultant, a reputation which had lead him to several collaborations with Federico Fellini. Rondi's directorial debut came more than a decade earlier in 1961 with the film Una vita violenta (aka Violent Life). Rondi went on to make a number of psychological/sexual dramas of which Ingrid Sulla Strada was one of the last.

Ingrid Sulla Strada is a drama in which young Ingrid (Swedish model and actress Janet Agren) leaves her home after being raped by her father. After her arrival in Rome, Ingrid, with little option, slips into prostitution. Life is not easy for Ingrid and soon her life begins to spiral out of control and eventually leads to her suicide. Ingrid Sulla Strada is not an easy film to find, and the limited amount of footage revealed within the trailer tends to suggest a rather bleak narrative and a Fellini- influenced style of filmmaking.

Ingrid Sulla Strada is without doubt an eclectic score. At its heart, Savina provides a light, delicate melody which is quite charming. And yet, the score’s overall soundscape doesn’t naturally provide a standardised form or perhaps an obvious sense of continuity. There’s certainly nothing wrong with Savina’s music, but the styles are so varied, one could almost be excused for thinking certain cues could had been taken from entirely different scores. As a collective it’s incredibly diverse and perhaps reflects the up-and-down nature and psychological aspect of the story. Regardless of its random style, it remains a fascinating listening experience.

Chris' Soundtrack Corner has completed an excellent challenge in making this obscure title available for the first time. Only the main theme and the pop organ track, ‘Walking through the falling leaves’, have been previously released. Christian Riedrich has beautifully produced the release, which certainly must have been a challenge. The result is the release of an entirely engaging score. Consisting of 15 tracks and 2 additional bonus tracks, the CD comes with a 12-page illustrated booklet designed by Tobias Kohlhaas and featuring detailed, exclusive notes by Randall D. Larson.

A fine collection of European scores for which everyone involved should be congratulated.

To order go to:

http://www.soundtrackcorner.de/

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

American Cinematographer magazine is providing plenty of catnip for James Bond fans by publishing on-line reprints of its coverage of the series from over the decades. In this article, Second Unit Director (and future Bond Director) John Glen provides a first-hand report on the filming of the 1969 classic "On Her Majesty's Secret Service" starring George Lazenby in his one, memorable turn as 007. Click here to access the article. 

BY TIM GREAVES 

In the early 1980s, Israeli cousins and co-producers Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus – the men behind then-thriving outfit The Cannon Group – decided that they would like to add an old-fashioned style horror film to their burgeoning library of titles. They approached director Peter Walker, renowned for a slew of successful exploitation pictures throughout the 1970s, suggesting he create something for the likes of Bela Lugosi, Peter Lorre and Boris Karloff, blissfully unaware the three actors were dead. Regardless, Walker took the baton and ran with it, the result being 1983’s rather splendid House of the Long Shadows.

Probably best remembered for assembling icons of horror cinema Peter Cushing, Christopher Lee, Vincent Price and John Carradine under one roof, House of the Long Shadows didn’t wow critics at the time and with hindsight it’s easy to see why. Times had moved on since the relatively harmless monster flicks of the 1930s and 40s and audiences were becoming accustomed to seeing grisly fare such as Friday the 13^th, Halloween and the nerve-shredding remake of The Thing. Nevertheless, Cannon had requested a throwback to those old movies and that’s what Walker delivered, being sure to tick all the requisite clichéd boxes; an imposing house, creaking floorboards, lightning storms, hidden tunnels, furtive sideways glances, locked doors to attic rooms, and a series of murders that wouldn’t be out of place in And Then There Were None were all present and correct.

After he was initially approach by Golan and Globus, Walker had tried unsuccessfully to acquire the rights to restage The Old Dark House. He then turned to screenwriter Michael Armstrong, who conjured up a story based upon the 1913 novel “Seven Keys to Baldpate” by Earl Derr Biggers, playwright and creator of Charlie Chan. Shooting took place on location at Rotherfield Park in East Tisted (near Alton) in Hampshire.

The plot is a simple one. An American novelist (Desi Arnaz, Jr) accepts a $20,000 bet from his publisher (Richard Todd) that challenges him to write a classic chiller in one night. He travels to Wales and pitches up in a long-unoccupied manor house at Bllyddpaetwr – pronounced Baldpate – convinced that the surroundings will furnish him with the all the inspiration he needs. Unfortunately,his attempts to get started are hindered by the arrival of an assortment of mysterious visitors who, as the night progresses, are revealed to have more in common first apparent.

The aforementioned titans of terror aside, joining them on screen are Walker regular Sheila Keith (who only ever got to play unpleasant characters, yet by all accounts was the sweetest woman you could hope to meet), Julie Peasgood, Richard Hunter, Louise English and (fleetingly) Norman Rossington. What a fantastic cast, eh?

But naturally enough the big draw is the four main stars. Lee is his usual reliably imposing presence, commanding your attention every time he’s on screen. Cushing turns in a particularly memorable performance; hobbled by an endearing speech impediment – he can’t pronounce his Rs – his character also gets to deliver one of the film’s best bits of dialogue as he melancholically explains why he’s such a timid man. Price meanwhile gets the cream pf the blackly pithy lines (upon discovering the body of a character who’s been strangled with piano wire he remarks, deadpan, “They must have heard her singing.”). Carradine appears to struggle a tad, occasionally not looking too sure where he is (he was in his late 70s at the time this was made), but his performance is nothing to be ashamed of and somehow that adds to the quirky charm of the piece.

With a runtime of 121-minutes, it’s a bloated affair and could certainly have lost several scenes in which characters wander around lost in the maze of tunnels; it doesn’t make for tedious viewing as such, but they fail to move the story along. All the same, as the climax approaches there are some nifty little twists and at the end of the day it’s a pleasure to watch, if only to bask in the fun that Cushing, Lee and Price evidently had making it.

Neglected for years, House of the Long Shadows finally got to see a belated release to DVD ten years ago and Region A Blu-ray from Kino Lorber a few years back. Fans can now rejoice; it has been spruced up for a Region 2 Blu-Ray release from Fabulous Films, including a host of worthy supplements. The film itself has always suffered from a slight murkiness, but here it looks better than ever it has and is accompanied by an optional commentary track from Peter Walker and Derek Pykett. The standout among the bonus inclusions is a feature-length documentary, “Return to House of the Long Shadows”, originally shot and directed by Pykett – who clearly holds the film in great esteem – in 2012. Running only 15-minues less than the movie itself, much like that it might have benefited from a little judicious editing, but it’s nonetheless an invaluable treasure trove of information and reminiscences. Built around a revisit to Rotherfield Park by Walker, actress Julie Peasgood (who barely seems to have aged a day) and cinematographer Norman Langley, it boasts an impressive collection of additional interviews with actors Desi Arnaz, Jr, Richard Hunter and Louise English, production designer Michael Pickwoad, production manager Jeanne Ferber, writer Michael Armstrong, camera operator John Simmons, costume designer Alan Flyng and composer Richard Harvey. Additionally, there’s a separate 15-minute interview with Walker, a short step-through gallery of stills and a trailer.

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BY LEE PFEIFFER

"The Deadly Affair", directed by Sidney Lumet, is the 1967 film based on John Le Carre's 1961 novel "Call for the Dead". Le Carre was riding high during the Bond-inspired Bond phenomenon of the 1960s. Unlike the surrealistic world of 007, Le Carre's books formed the basis for gritty and gloomy espionage stories that were steeped in realism and cynicism. The film adaptation of Le Carre's "The Spy Who Came in from the Cold" had been released the previous year to great acclaim. Lumet, who made "The Deadly Affair" for his own production company, rounded up top flight British talent including screenwriter Paul Dehn, who had written the film adaptation of "The Spy Who Came in from the Cold" and  co-wrote the screenplay for "Goldfinger".

As with all Le Carre film adaptations, the plot is complex to the point of being confusing. There are many intriguing characters of dubious allegiance to one another, a scarcity of violence in favor of people talking in back alleys and living rooms and a desire to paint the world of Cold War espionage as a tawdry environment in which the good guys are indistinguishable from the bad guys. James Mason plays Charles Dobbs, a veteran British Intelligence agent who takes a leisurely walk through St. James Park with a civil servant, Fennan (Robert Flemyng),who is aspiring to get a promotion to the Foreign Office. Dobbs informs him that there is a bit of concern about his security clearance because an anonymous person has tipped off MI6 through a letter that states Fennan's may have a dual allegiance to the communists. Dobbs considers the matter somewhat trivial and tries to assure Fennan that his name will probably be cleared. The men part on seemingly upbeat terms but the next day Dobbs is told by his superiors that Fennan has committed suicide. Dobbs is flabbergasted and insists the man showed no signs of instability. Nevertheless, Dobbs feels he is being made to be the fall guy for failing to see obvious weaknesses in Fennan's personality. That's not his only problem. Domestically, his young wife Ann (Harriett Andersson) is causing him great distress by taking on numerous lovers under his very nose. (Dobbs is even instructed to phone her before he comes home in case she has a bed mate in their house.) Dobbs is humiliated at playing the role of cuckold but can't bring himself to divorce Ann- even when it is revealed that his old friend Dieter (Maximilian Schell), a German Intelligence agent who is visiting London, has also been seduced by her.

Dobbs smells a rat at MI6 and doubts Fennan committed suicide. He starts his own investigation into who killed him and why. An interview with Fennan's widow (Simone Signoret) only makes matters more complex when he begins to suspect she might be a Soviet agent. Dobbs enlists the only two colleagues he can trust: agent Bill Appleby (Kenneth Haigh) and the semi-retired agent Mendel (Harry Andrews). The trio find that as they get closer to the truth, the trail is getting more dangerous with numerous murders occurring and their own lives in danger.

To bring Le Carre's novel to the screen, certain recurring characters from his books, such as legendary spy George Smiley, had to have their names changed because Paramount had the rights to "The Spy Who Came in from the Cold" and the characters appeared in the novel and screen version. Paul Dehn's screenplay is confusing but never boring and by the end you can pretty much figure out what is going on even if some of the peripheral characters' significance remains a bit vague. Sidney Lumet was the ultimate "actor's director" and could always be counted on to get top-rate performances from his cast. "The Deadly Game" is no exception, with James Mason in fine form as a man who has been disgraced professionally and personally but who still has enough pride to attempt to clear his name. Lumet hired two fine actors who appeared in his 1965 masterwork "The Hill"- Harry Andrews and Roy Kinnear- to reunite for this production and they have a great scene together. (Andrews must be one of the most under-rated actors of all time.) Maximilian Schell only appears sporadically but his role is pivotal and he is typically impressive, as is Simone Signoret as a woman of doubtful allegiance. Harriett Andersson, whose proficiency in English was limited, is occasionally difficult to understand (she was reportedly partially dubbed because of this). She accepted the role at the last minute when Candice Bergen had to back out of the film. She is suitably sultry and her character is quite interesting, professing to love her husband even as she revels in submitting him to sexual humiliation. The only humor in the film is provided by a very amusing Lynn Redgrave in a small role as Virgin Bumpus (!), an inept set designer for a Shakespearean theater production. Quincy Jones provides a fine jazz score that fits in well with the lounge music craze of the era and Freddie Young's cinematography depicts London as an ominous, rain-spattered place that adds to the chilling atmosphere of any Le Carre story. Adding to the impressive roster of talents involved with the film are Quincy Jones, who provides a fine jazzy score and cinematographer Freddie Young. Sidney Lumet wanted to film the production in B&W but the studio insisted on color. Thus, the ever-inventive Young created a process to intentionally make the scenes look drab and dubbed it "colorless color."

Although John Le Carre was not overly-impressed with the film, he did joke that he was beguiled by Harriet Andersson's nude scene. Le Carre's opinion aside, "The Deadly Affair" was highly acclaimed in Britain, having been nominated for five BAFTA awards but it was largely overlooked amidst the tidal wave of other spy movies from the time period. It's a first-rate thriller and Indicator have done it justice with an equally excellent Blu-ray special edition, which is happily region-free and features a high definition remaster. In addition, the Blu-ray contains the following special edition features:

• Original mono audio sound
• An excellent commentary track by film historians Michael Brooke and Johnny Mains
• "The Guardian Lecture with Sidney Lumet", a wonderful audio recording of a 1983 interview at the National Film Theatre conducted by Derek Malcolm, who gets the low-key director to discuss his own movies and the general state of cinema. Interestingly, even in 1983, Lumet predicted the short attention span (or perceived short attention span) of audiences would alter the way movies were made. He griped that in several recent films he had seen, no shot lasted for more than seven seconds without a cut being made.
  
• "A Different Kind of Spy: Paul Dehn's Deadly Affair", a featurette in which writer David Kipen discusses the life and career of the esteemed screenwriter. Kipen is loquacious and interesting, providing background of Dehn's fascinating background. He was an instructor at a spy school while in the British military in WWII and among his students were Ian Fleming and John Le Carre. He later engaged in undercover activities himself. After the war, Dehn became a screenwriter and Kipen laments the fact that many of the economically-made, but expertly scripted films he worked on in post-war Britain remain largely unseen by international audiences. Kipen also informs us that Dehn was a gay man living in Britain when homosexuality was still a crime and how his closeted life and long-time lover affair with film composer James Bernard may have influenced his work.
  
• "Lumet's London" is a short featurette that shows "then-and-now" footage and photos of the various locations seen in the film.
• "Take One and Move On" is a short but interesting interview with camera operator Brian West, who recalls the inventive way cinematographer Freddie Young planned some innovative shots.
  
• "The National Film Theatre Lecture with James Mason" is a rare gem from 1967. Mason didn't give an abundance of interviews and wasn't a common presence on chat shows. This marvelous interview before an enthusiastic audience is worth the price of the Blu-ray alone. Mason is, as you might expect, urbane, charismatic and very witty as he relates stories of his life and career including some tidbits about the pleasures and stresses of working with Hitchcock and Kubrick.
  

Cinema Retro has received the following press release from Paramount:

Paramount Pictures Celebrates the 50th Anniversary of Francis Ford Coppala's Cinematic Masterpiece

HOLLYWOOD, Calif. – March 1, 2022 — In celebration of the 50^th anniversary of Francis Ford Coppola’s Academy Award^®-winning^* masterwork The Godfather, Paramount Pictures will be releasing all three films in the epic trilogy on 4K Ultra HD for the first time ever on March 22, 2022, with all the films having been meticulously restored under the direction of Coppola.

“I am very proud of The Godfather, which certainly defined the first third of my creative life,” said Francis Ford Coppola.  “With this 50th anniversary tribute, I’m especially proud Mario Puzo’s THE GODFATHER, Coda: The Death of Michael Corleone is included, as it captures Mario and my original vision in definitively concluding our epic trilogy. It’s also gratifying to celebrate this milestone with Paramount alongside the wonderful fans who’ve loved it for decades, younger generations who still find it relevant today, and those who will discover it for the first time.”

Coppola’s masterful film adaptation of Mario Puzo’s novel chronicles the rise and fall of the Corleone family and the film trilogy is rightfully viewed as one of the greatest in cinematic history.  In preparation for the 50^th anniversary of the first film’s original release on March 24, 1972, Paramount and Coppola’s production company American Zoetrope undertook a painstaking restoration of all three films over the course of three years.  Every effort was made to create the finest possible presentation for today’s audiences who can watch the films using technology that has advanced dramatically since 2007 when the last restoration was completed by eminent film historian and preservationist Robert Harris.  Using that work as a blueprint, the team spent thousands of hours to ensure that every frame was evaluated to create the most pristine presentation while remaining true to the original look and feel of the films.

The monumental effort included the following:

• Over 300 cartons of film were scrutinized to find the best possible resolution for every frame of all three films.
• Over 4,000 hours were spent repairing film stains, tears, and other anomalies in the negatives.
• Over 1,000 hours were spent on rigorous color correction to ensure the high dynamic range tools were respectful of the original vision of Coppola and cinematographer Gordon Willis.
• In addition to the 5.1 audio approved by Walter Murch in 2007, the original mono tracks on
  The Godfather and The Godfather: Part II have been restored.
• All work was overseen by Coppola.

“We felt privileged to restore these films and a little in awe every day we worked on them,” said Andrea Kalas, senior vice president, Paramount Archives.  “We were able to witness first-hand how the brilliant cinematography, score, production design, costume design, editing, performances, and, of course, screenwriting and direction became famously more than the sum of their parts.  It was our commitment to honor all of the filmmakers’ exceptional work.”

Newly restored and remastered in Dolby Vision, all three films in the landmark trilogy will be released together with HDR-10 on 4K Ultra HD Digital and 4K Ultra HD Blu-ray^™ for the first time ever.  The 4K Ultra HD Blu-ray set will include The Godfather, The Godfather: Part II, and Coppola’s recently re-edited version of the final film, Mario Puzo’s THE GODFATHER, Coda: The Death of Michael Corleone.  The disc set includes legacy commentaries by Coppola, as well as access to Digital copies of The Godfather, The Godfather: Part II and Mario Puzo’s THE GODFATHER, Coda: The Death of Michael Corleone.

In addition to the widely available 4K Ultra HD Blu-ray set, a 4K Ultra HD Limited Collector’s Edition will also be released in deluxe packaging and includes a hardcover coffee table book featuring stunning photographs, as well as portrait art prints on archival paper.  Both 4K Ultra HD sets include new bonus content including an introduction to The Godfather by Coppola, a featurette about the preservation process, photos by acclaimed photographer Steve Schapiro, home movie footage, and comparisons of the new restoration to earlier versions of the films.  A full list of new and legacy bonus content follows:

NEW BONUS CONTENT:

·         Introduction to The Godfather by Francis Ford Coppola

·         Full Circle: Preserving The Godfather—Paramount Pictures archivists detail the incredible restoration process with archival footage showing the evolution of the film through various home entertainment incarnations as picture and audio technologies make quantum leaps over the decades.

·         Capturing the Corleones: Through the Lens of Photographer Steve Schapiro— In this reflective and frank discussion, special photographer Steve Schapiro shares his unique perspective and cherished memories as a witness to the making of this seminal film.  Commentary on curated archival images makes for a fascinating, never-before-seen addition to the production’s history.

·         The Godfather: Home Movies— An assortment of 8mm home movie footage shot in 1971 offers a candid glimpse into the production of The Godfather.  Shot on location at the Norton family estate on Staten Island’s Emerson Hill, this is the first time it’s been made available to the public.

·         Restoration Comparisons— Before and after highlights showcase extensive picture quality improvements to The Godfather.

LEGACY BONUS CONTENT:

• The Masterpiece That Almost Wasn’t
• Godfather World
• Emulsional Rescue—Revealing The Godfather
• …when the shooting stopped
• The Godfather on the Red Carpet
• Four Short Films on The Godfather

o The Godfather vs. The Godfather: Part II

o Cannoli

o Riffing on the Riffing

o Clemenza

· The Family Tree

· Crime Organization Chart

· Connie and Carlo’s Wedding Album

· 2008 Credits

· Behind the Scenes

o A Look Inside

o On Location

o Francis Ford Coppola’s Notebook

o Music of The Godfather

§ Nino Rota

§ Carmine Coppola            

o Coppola & Puzo on Screenwriting

o Gordon Willis on Cinematography

o Storyboards – The Godfather: Part II

o Storyboards – The Godfather: Part III

o The Godfather Behind the Scenes 1971

· Additional Scenes

· Galleries

· Trailers

· Acclaim & Response

· Additional Material

· The Filmmakers

· The Godfather: Part III—newly remastered and restored versions of the original theatrical cut and Coppola’s 1991 cut (note: these are exclusive to the 4K Ultra HD Collections)

Newly restored and remastered versions of The Godfather, The Godfather: Part II, and Mario Puzo’s THE GODFATHER, Coda: The Death of Michael Corleone will also be available together on Blu-ray^™ with access to Digital copies and the new and legacy bonus content detailed above.

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Production Designer Ken Adam, Producer Albert R. Broccoli and Director Lewis Gilbert on the original "007 Stage" at Pinewood Studios.

It was the biggest James Bond film to date. Released in 1977, Roger Moore's third 007 film, "The Spy Who Loved Me", restored the series to its former grandeur, following the anemic reaction to the previous film "The Man with the Golden Gun". Producer Albert R. Broccoli was making his first Bond movie without his former partner, Harry Saltzman, who ended their partnership after "Golden Gun". Broccoli was determined to go all-out and backed his plans by getting United Artists to provide the biggest budget the franchise had ever enjoyed. Broccoli made sure every penny was on the screen and constructed the largest sound stage in the world at Pinewood Studios. American Cinematographer magazine has long provided detailed behind-the-scenes coverage of the making of the Bond films. They have reprinted their on-set visit to Pinewood where contributing editor David Samuelson interviewed production designer Ken Adam and Director of Photography Claude Renoir. 

Click here to access the article.

BY DOUG OSWALD 

A concentration camp survivor returns home after the war only to find betrayal and deceit in “Phoenix,” a Blu-ray release from Criterion. Nina Hoss is Nelly Lenz, a German Jew returning to Berlin in 1945 both physically and psychologically damaged after years in concentration camps including the notorious Auschwitz death camp. A successful nightclub singer prior to the horrors of Nazi Germany, she returns home with a disfigured face hidden under bandages when we first meet her on screen. Nelly is aided by her friend Lene Winter (Nina Kunzendorf), a fellow German Jew who fled to England before the war. Nelly receives reconstructive surgery on her face which alters her looks, although we never see what she looked liked prior to her facial disfigurement. We first see her after the bandages are removed post surgery.

Nelly wants to be reunited with her husband, she married shortly before being taken by the authorities to a Jewish detention camp. She finds her husband, Johnny Lenz (Ronald Zehrfeld), who had not been arrested because he is not Jewish, working at a local restaurant. He doesn’t recognize her when they talk and it appears he is oblivious to who she is. Johnny returns to her the next day with a request. He asks if she will pretend to be his (presumably) dead wife so he can make a claim for her estate and then he’ll share some of the money with her. Nelly agrees to the ruse if only to be with her husband even though it is play acting on his part.

The psychological scars are deep for both Nelly and Lene, who has survivor’s guilt from avoiding internment. Those scars are deeper than the physical scars for Nelly which prevents her from revealing her true identity to her husband as she learns more about him. Nelly hopes her husband will somehow come to recognize her as the real Nelly, but plays things out maintaining the ruse in an attempt to learn how he survived throughout the war. The climax is chilling, as it is revealed how Nina was betrayed and by whom. These developments are played out in flashback.

Nina Hoss and Ronald Zehrfeld are excellent as Nelly and Johnny. as is Nina Kunzendorf as Lene. Directed by Christian Petzold with a screenplay co-written by Petzold and Harn Farocki,, the story is based on “motifs” from the novel “Le retour des cendres” by Hubert Monteilhet. I found it fascinating to watch as Johnny teaches Nelly how to act like Nelly, dress like Nelly and sign her name like Nelly in order to “fool” her own family and friends who survived the war. The movie has a definite “Vertigo” vibe going for it, almost as though we are experiencing a lucid daydream.

Nina Hoss may be familiar to fans of the television series “Homeland”, wherein she played Astrid in 13 episodes of the Showtime series from 2014 to 2017. She was also in the Showtime 2020 series “The Defeated.” Her co-star, Ronald Zehrfeld, is also terrific and convincing as the “widowed” husband who does not recognize his own wife, but knows this “other” woman looks close enough to hopefully fool everyone and claim Nelly’s estate. Zehfred appears in mostly German productions, but does appear in the 2020 Netflix series “Barbarans” as Berulf.

If the basic plot of “Phoenix” sounds familiar, as it did to me while I first viewed the Blu-ray, it’s because the same novel was adapted for the 1965 thriller, “Return from the Ashes,” which is also the English translation of the novel. That movie, directed by J. Lee Thompson and adapted by Julius Epstein, features Maximilian Schell, Samantha Eggar and Ingrid Thulin. I’ve never read the original novel, but a quick check on the web revealed “Return from the Ashes” is the more faithful while “Phoenix” focuses on “motifs” lifting the basic plot of the inheritance claim and changes the location from post- World War II France to Germany and adds the plastic surgery subplot.

“Phoenix” was released in September 2014 in Germany and found an audience as an American film festival and art house release throughout 2015. While not a blockbuster, the film did brisk business and deserves a fresh viewing. The movie is 98 minutes and filmed in German language. The Criterion Collection Blu-ray of “Phoenix” looks and sounds terrific in the original German with English subtitles. The disc also includes a making of documentary, interviews with the director, cinematographer, cast and also the trailer. There’s also an informative booklet with an essay about the film by Michael Koresky included with the disc packaging. The movie is highly recommended and makes a great double feature with “Return From the Ashes.”

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BY LEE PFEIFFER

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

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

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

"Number One" never found its audience in 1969 but hopefully the impressive Blu-ray transfer will help retro movie lovers appreciate its merits, even if it lacks bonus extras except for a single trailer. The film did have at least one critic who appreciated the movie and Heston's performance. Writing in the New York Times, critic Howard Thompson wrote: "Charlton Heston, minus a beard, a loincloth, a toga or the Red Sea, tackles a starkly unadorned role in one of the most interesting and admirable performances of his career…If Heston could have been better, we don’t know how." Our sentiments exactly. 

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Cinema Retro has received the following press release from Cult Epics:

Cult Epics presents SYLVIA KRISTEL 1970s COLLECTION

Includes 4 films premiering on Blu-ray & DVD on December 14, 2021

Los Angeles, CA (November, 2021)

Synopsis: Cult Epics proudly presents the Sylvia Kristel 1970s Collection, featuring four of the legendary Dutch icon's most diverse films in new 2K transfers and entirely uncut, for the first time on home video in the United States. 

Released in 1975, Alain Robbe-Grillet's surreal, absurdist sado-masochistic drama Playing with Fire (Le jeu avec le feu) features Sylvia in one of her most challenging roles alongside Jean-Louis Trintignant, Anicée Alvina and her Emmanuelle co-star Christine Boisson. The set's two Dutch films are co-starring Rutger Hauer, and Sylvia at the peak of her career. Submitted for the 1978 Academy Awards — Best Foreign Film, Wim Verstappen's Pastorale 1943 is a war drama centered on the Dutch resistance during World War II, and features also the debut of Renée Soutendijk. Painter turned director Paul de Lussanet’s romantic psychological drama Mysteries, based on the world famous novel by the Norwegian nobel prize winner Knut Hamsun and shot by renowned cinematographer Robby Müller, also stars Rita Tushingham and David Rappaport. Filmed and released right after Sylvia became one of the world's biggest stars as Emmanuelle (1974), Sigi Rothemund's 1974 film Julia is a German sex comedy drama, with Sylvia as a young boy’s first love, foreshadowing her later U.S. commercial hit Private Lessons.

SYLVIA KRISTEL 1970s COLLECTION 4xBlu-ray / 4xDVD

Price:              $99.95 / $79.95

Street Date:          December 14, 2021

Production Year: 1975/1978/1978/1974

Country: France/Netherlands/Germany

Video run time:         Approx. 429 Mins

Language: French, Dutch, German & English language w/optional English subtitles

Aspect Ratio: 2.35:1/1.66:1

Audio: LPCM 2.0 Mono, DTS-HD MA 2.0 Mono / LPCM 2.0 Mono, Dolby Digital 2.0 Mono

Label: Cult Epics

Distributor: CAV

Blu-ray/DVD Cat.no. CE188/189

BD/DVD UPC 881190018897 / 881190018996

Rating:                         Not Rated

Region: Region Free

Sylvia Kristel 1970s Collection from Cult Epics on Vimeo.

SPECIAL FEATURES

New 2K HD Transfers (from original 35mm film elements) and Restoration

Original LPCM 2.0 Mono.

New DTS-HD MA 2.0 Mono

New and Vintage Interviews with Cast & Crew

Poster & Photo Galleries

Original Theatrical Trailers

Limited numbered Edition of 2500 copies made (Blu-ray) includes 40-Page illustrated booklet written by Jeremy Richey and Poster with Art by Gilles Vranckx. DVD Ltd. Edition of 1000 includes booklet and poster

Cult Epics website exclusive includes an additional DVD with Interview with director Just Jaeckin on Sylvia. Limited to 200 copies www.cultepics.com

In conjunction Cult Epics will release Sylvia Kristel: From Emmanuelle written by Jeremy Richey as a Hardcover book, on January 17, 2020 (new release date). 352 Pages, fully illustrated, 12x10 inches.

RIP VAN MARLOWE

By Raymond Benson

(Note: Portions of this review appeared on Cinema Retro in 2014 for an earlier Kino Lorber edition.)

Robert Altman was a very quirky director, sometimes missing the mark, but oftentimes brilliant. His 1973 take on Raymond Chandler’s 1953 novel The Long Goodbye is a case in point. It might take a second viewing to appreciate what’s really going on in the film. Updating what is essentially a 1940s film noir character to the swinging 70s was a risky and challenging prospect—and Altman and his star, Elliott Gould as Philip Marlowe (!), pull it off.

It’s one of those pictures that critics hated when it was first released; and yet, by the end of the year, it was being named on several Top Ten lists. I admit that when I first saw it in 1973, I didn’t much care for it. I still wasn’t totally in tune with the kinds of movies Altman made—even after M*A*S*H, Brewster McCloud (an underrated gem), and McCabe & Mrs. Miller. But I saw it again a few years later on a college campus and totally dug it. Altman made oddball films, and either you went with the flow or you would be put off by the improvisational, sometimes sloppy mise-en-scène that the director used. And the sound—well, Altman is infamous for his overlapping dialogue (one critic called it “Altman Soup”). If you didn’t “get” what the director was doing with sound, then you would certainly have a hard time with his pictures.

Yes, Elliott Gould plays Philip Marlowe. A very different interpretation than Humphrey Bogart or Dick Powell, obviously. And yet, it works. Gould displays the right amount of bemused cynicism, as if he had been asleep for twenty years and suddenly woken up in the 1970s. And that’s exactly how Altman, screenwriter Leigh Brackett (who co-wrote the 1946 The Big Sleep), and Gould approached the material. Altman, in a documentary extra on the making of the film, called the character “Rip Van Marlowe.” He is an anachronism in a different time. For example, Marlowe can’t help but be bewildered by the quartet of exhibitionist hippie lesbians that live in his apartment complex. And he still drives a car from his original era. And therein lies the point of the picture—this is a comment on the 70s, not the 40s or 50s.

The plot concerns the possible murder of the wife of Marlowe’s good friend, Terry (played by baseball pro Jim Boutin), who is indeed a suspect, as well as a suitcase of missing money belonging to a vicious gangster (extrovertly portrayed by film director Mark Rydell), an Ernest Hemingway-like writer who has gone missing (eccentrically performed by Sterling Hayden), and the author’s hot blonde wife who may know more than she’s telling (honestly played by newcomer Nina van Pallandt). The story twists, turns, hits some bumps in the road, and finally circles back to the initial beginning mystery.

It may not be one of Altman’s best films, but it’s one of the better ones. It’s certainly one of the more interesting experiments he tried in his most prolific period of the 70s.

Kino Lorber already put out a Blu-ray release several years ago, but it didn’t really improve much on the original DVD release prior to that. The company has now re-issued the film in a brand new 4K master that is a vast step-up from the previous release. It looks great. The soft focus cinematography by Vilmos Zsigmond is no longer a hazy gaze but is instead a crystal transfer of that distinctive 1970s film stock imagery. The movie now comes with an informative audio commentary by film historian Tim Lucas.

Some of the extras are ported over from the previous Kino Lorber release, such as the aforementioned “making of” documentary, a short piece on Zsigmond, an animated reproduction of a vintage American Cinematographer article, the trailer, and a few radio spots. New to this edition are featurettes with film historian/critic David Thompson on Altman and the film, author Tom Williams on Raymond Chandler, and author/historian Maxim Jakubowski on hard-boiled fiction in general. There is also a “Trailers from Hell” segment with Josh Olson.

If you’re an Altman fan and don’t already own the out of print DVD or previous Blu-ray, you may want to pick up the new, improved The Long Goodbye. It probably won’t be long before this, too, like Philip Marlowe himself, is a rare collector’s item.

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(Note: It has just been announced that "The Long Goodbye" has been named to America's National Film Registry of classic motion pictures.)

BY TODD GARBARINI

Dustin Hoffman has played a tremendous variety of roles throughout his 50-plus year career: an underconfident graduate in love with his fiancé’s mother; a terminally ill hustler; a mathematician forced to defend his home; real-lifers Lenny Bruce and Carl Bernstein; a marathon runner out to avenge his father’s and brother’s deaths; and most notably as a divorced father and a mentally challenged genius (for which he scored two Academy Awards for Best Actor), among many other memorable performances. However, there is one film that he made during all his great work in the 1970s that, despite receiving a sizeable theatrical release and decent reviews, is virtually unknown to anyone outside of his most ardent admirers. His young fans today who know him primarily from the “Fockers” films are probably oblivious to his interpretation of ex-convict Max Dembo in Ulu Grosbard’s streetwise Straight Time, which was shot in the Spring of 1977 in Los Angeles and opened nationwide on Friday, March 17, 1978. This is one of his best outings (my personal favorite film of his) and proof that Mr. Hoffman is one of cinema’s greatest actors. It’s a strong, quiet yet often brutal and measured performance, one that should have earned him an Oscar nomination as he portrays a convict trying desperately to fit into society. The film possesses a bleak outlook on life, and the unsavory and nearly irredeemable and generally unlikeable characters who populate the film’s landscape are brilliantly realized by all involved.

Max is released from Folsom Prison after completing a six-year incarceration for burglary. Despite being mild-mannered, we sense that there is something brooding beneath the surface just waiting to erupt out of control. (Actor Jason Isaacs portrayed Irish mobster Michael Caffee in the Showtime series Brotherhood from 2006 to 2008 who returns home following a jail stint with a similar disposition.) Max makes the six-plus-hour bus ride down to Los Angeles and he gets his first taste of life outside of prison when he calls and leaves his parole officer Earl Frank (M. Emmet Walsh) a message that Earl says he didn’t get when Max meets him the following day. They get off on the wrong foot when he makes the mistake of not going to a halfway house, rubbing Earl the wrong way. The conditions of his parole are that he is to discuss all his intentions with Earl first. After getting a room at the Garland Hotel for the week, he tries out for a typing job at the Wilshire Agency. Under the eye of Jenny Mercer (Theresa Russell), we see that Max has a problem with rules as he continues typing long after Jenny calls “time” on the test. Despite this and his revelation of his past, she agrees to date him. Max looks up a former convict, Willy Darin (Garey Busey just before his breakout role in the Oscar-winning The Buddy Holly Story), at Willy’s house in the Echo Park suburb of Los Angeles. Willy’s wife Selma (an unrecognizable Kathy Bates) is less-than pleased at their reunion and confides her trepidation to Max who, although visibly hurt, leaves the house. The look he gives her on his way out is one of a wronged man who doesn’t forget. Yes, that’s Gary Busey’s real-life son, then-credited as Jacob, playing his onscreen son Henry. Again, Max abides by his own rules, and it costs him when Willy shoots up heroin in his room and leaves behind evidence that Earl discovers when he visits Max unannounced, costing him time back in L.A. County jail for a week. When Earl springs Max, he asks him the identity of the person who shot up in his room. Max flips out and steals Earl’s car, leaving him hanging half naked against a freeway divider fence. Max is now back to his old ways, pulling petty hold-ups to make ends meet while looking for shotguns and semi-automatic pistols.

Straight Time began life as No Beast So Fierce, an intriguingly titled 1973 novel written by the late paroled and convicted felon Edward Heward Bunker, who would go on to achieve a modicum of success in Hollywood by appearing in Steve DeJarnett’s Miracle Mile (1988) and Quentin Tarantino’s Reservoir Dogs (1992) among other films. Reportedly, Mr. Hoffman began directing the film himself before handing over the reins to veteran director Ulu Grosbard whom he worked with previously on Who is Harry Kellerman and Why is He Saying Those Terrible Things About Me? in 1971 so that he could focus on playing Max. Mr. Bunker appears briefly in the film, and the plot is bolstered by the always excellent Harry Dean Stanton as Jerry, an ex-con who, like Willy, is also bored by his legit profession and wants to get back into the game and do jobs with Max. The trouble with Max is, he’s reckless and takes unnecessary risks, allowing his temper to get the better of him. He wants the bigger scores and when he and Jerry rob a prominent bank in broad daylight, he goes way beyond the time at which he should leave, narrowly escaping. Things go awry when his hunger for more money gets them into big trouble following a jewelry store that he scoped out earlier with an unassuming Jenny who thinks he is buying her an expensive watch.

Straight Time raises a lot of questions: Why does Jenny, an attractive woman, get involved with Max? Why do Max and Jerry take scores with no masks on? Is The System really trying to help ex-convicts assimilate back into a free society, or is it simply there to give the impression of attempting to handle ex-convicts as they try to get back on their feet? Do we sympathize with Max for a life of crime? Is a life of crime better than working for The Man? Who is responsible for the recidivism rate among paroled convicts? If the film seems familiar in how it handles the issue of thievery, it might not come as a surprise that writer and director Michael Mann did some uncredited work on the screenplay. His films Thief (1981), L.A. Takedown (1989) and Heat (1995) are all examinations on thieves and the way they live their lives, especially how the rush of stealing is what they find exciting. Tom Sizemore said it best in Heat: “For me, the action is the juice.”

My introduction to Straight Time came in the form of the film’s trailer that was shown prior to a screening of (I kid you not) Walt Disney’s Pete’s Dragon that my family took my younger sister and I to see at a local neighborhood movie theater when I was nine in early 1978. It was not the sort of fare I would have expected to see advertised in front of a children’s film, though I distinctly recall seeing Mr. Hoffman pull down M. Emmett Walsh’s pants, baring his bottom. The trailer on the Blu-ray is intact with this sequence, however the pulling down of the pants is only hinted at and not outright or explicitly shown. Whether this is the way the original trailer played theatrically or not 43 years ago, the answer is buried deep in my hippocampus and neocortex, and I’m tending to believe that if Mr. Walsh’s derriere had been shown, my mother would have protested, as anything even remotely sexual to my sister’s and my own eyes was anathema to her. (This was evinced by her reaction to Lesley Ann-Down’s risqué outfit in the trailer to The Great Train Robbery shown before my virgin screening of Superman: The Movie in December 1978 would attest to.) Given the evidence, my gut feeling is that I imagined it.

It would be another six years before premium cable viewers would have an opportunity to see the film; four years after that my visit to the new Blockbuster Video in an adjacent town made me giddy with delight as the aisles were filled with VHS copies of movies that I knew of yet never saw before. Max Dembo beckoned me from the cover of the oversized Warner Home Video clamshell box for Straight Time, his large sad eyes asking me to rent it and give it a chance, which I did and did not regret in the slightest.

Straight Time was released on DVD by Warner Home Video in May 2007 with a much-needed upgrade from the old VHS transfer. It’s now available on Blu-ray through their Warner Archive line and it looks even better. I appreciate Warner Archive retaining the original black and red “A Warner Communications Company” logo from the period. This edition carries over the audio commentary track featuring director Grosbard and star Hoffman who both give wonderful anecdotes about the making and history of the film. The aforementioned trailer is also included. It’s marvelous hearing Mr. Hoffman talk about this film, as it reminds me of the excellent commentary that Jack Nicholson provided to Michelangelo Antonioni’s The Passenger (1975), arguably the actor’s greatest film.

Cinematographer Owen Roizman, already a veteran of some great New York-lensed films such as William Friedkin’s The French Connection (1971), Joseph Sargent’s The Taking of Pelham 123 (1974), Sidney Pollack’s Three Days of the Condor (1975) and Sidney Lumet’s Network (1976), brings his characteristic visual genius to the Hollywood and Wilshire Boulevard streets of Los Angeles and makes the city another character, with close-ups of Montgomery Ward and Woolworths, their signage stylized in long-gone and forgotten fonts.

Composer David Shire provides a wonderfully catchy minimalist score that I would love to see released on compact disc (remember those?).

Ironically, Dustin Hoffman and his roommate, Gene Hackman, were both were voted least likely to succeed in their Pasadena Playhouse classes when they first started out. Hilarious.

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"LIFE'S A BEACH"

BY LEE PFEIFFER

When it comes to defining cinematic guilty pleasures, one need not look any further than the lame-brained beach movies that were marketed to teenagers in the mid-1960s. The formula started in 1963 with "Beach Party", teaming Annette Funicello and Frankie Avalon for the first time as loved-starved teens who are addicted to fun and sun in the surf. The film was such a hit that it spawned numerous sequels, delighting producers Samuel Z. Arkoff and James H. Nicholson and American International, which was mining gold by making big profits from low-budget productions. The beach series didn't vary much in terms of content and many of the most popular actors were utilized in each successive film. There were also simlarly-themed films starring Avalon in different geographical settings ("Pajama Party", "Ski Party"). But if the beach series burned brightly, its flame was short-lived. By 1965, the young audiences that initially craved this fare were moving on to more sophisticated movies. The  Beatles had made two movies by then and they defined what was hip. Suddenly, the perpetual horndog males and the virginal girls they were perpetually trying to seduce seemed about as cutting edge as an episode of "Leave It to Beaver". By the time the final entry in the series, "How to Stuff a Wild Bikini" limped into theaters in 1965, the bloom was off the rose. This time around, even fans of Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello were disappointed. The script has them in different parts of the globe and they are only seen together briefly at the conclusion. Making matters worse, their appearances in the film are abbreviated with most of the screen time going to supporting players. As was the norm in these films, well known mature character actors are cast in humorous roles apparently to ensure that any parents in the audience stay awake. In this case, we have the legendary Buster Keaton and Mickey Rooney along with the rather bizarre casting of Brian Donlevy. Go figure.

This time around Frankie (who is cleverly cast as a character named "Frankie") is in the U.S. Navy and assigned to Tahiti, where is he basking in the affections of the local beauties including lovely Irene Tsu. The implication is that the Tahitian girls are far more liberal in terms of sexual activities than their American counterparts and its hinted that monogamy isn't a high priority for them. Frankie is understandably intoxicated by having his own harem until he begins to fret that his fiancee, Dee Dee (Annette Funicello) might also be tempted to stray during his long absence. He seeks the advice of the local medicine man (Keaton), who comes up with a strategy: he will concoct a beautiful girl, Casandra, to suddenly appear in the midst of Frankie's beach crowd and prove to be so desirable that every guy in the group will spend their time trying to seduce her instead of pursuing Dee Dee. (This is somewhat of an insult to Dee Dee, implying she would no longer turn heads in the presence of the mystery woman, who is played by Beverly Adams.) The ploy doesn't work because there is indeed a potential suitor for Dee Dee- local playboy Ricky (Dwayne Hickman). Dee Dee plays along, nursing anger and broken heart when she learns that Frankie is not remaining chaste. There is a crazy subplot involving Rooney as a manic marketing executive working for greedy tycoon Donlevy. They scheme to woo Casandra to make her the national model for their brand of motorcycles. In the midst of all this are zany fights, humor that is juvenile enough to alienate the average 10 year-old and climactic (and seemingly) endless cycle race that is filmed in the Keystone Cops mode. One can only suspect that Avalon saw the script and demanded a reduced role. Funicello, who was pregnant at the time, is often relegated to sitting alone on the beach attired in beach wear that skillfully hides this fact. If all of this sounds awful, it plays out on the screen even worse. The only saving grace is some genuinely amusing bits from Keaton and a brief "Bewitched"-inspired cameo by Elizabeth Montgomery, whose presence here is attributed to the fact that she was married to the director/screenwriter William Asher. Even the rock group the Kingsmen aren't used strategically. Instead of playing their smash hit "Louie Louie",  they are relegated to performing an instantly forgettable tune. There is some estimable talent behind the scenes including the esteemed cinematographer Floyd Crosby and composer Lex Baxter, both slumming in search of a quick pay check. Watching the film from the standpoint of a more enlightened era, its astonishing how crass the treatment of the young actresses is. In some shots, they are filmed minus such unnecessary appendages as their heads, as the camera lingers on only the parts that jiggle.

One hates to be a curmudgeon about such simple fare and it is necessary to view it in the context of the era in which it was made. But there lies the rub: "How to Stuff a Wild Bikini" was considered awful even back in 1965 and time has not been kind to it. The Olive Blu-ray has a very nice transfer, though. An original trailer is the only bonus feature.

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BY HANK REINEKE

In the early spring of 1961, shortly following the completion of his work on A.I.P.’s Master of the World - and following a series of lectures regarding “The Enjoyment of Great Art” – Renaissance man Vincent Price was to jet off mid-April for two acting assignments in Rome, Italy. The two productions he had signed onto for producer-writer Ottavio Poggi were Gordon, il Pirata Nero (Gordon, the Black Pirate) and Nefertiti, Regina Del Nile (Nefertiti, Queen of the Nile). The former film – arguably the better of the two - was belatedly released in the U.S. in June 1963 under the title Rage of the Buccaneers. The film was distributed regionally in the U.S. with neither fanfare nor critical attention.

Rage of the Buccaneers would first appear on the drive-in circuit as the odd undercard to such films as Broccoli and Saltzman’s Bob Hope/Anita Ekberg comedy Call Me Bwana. Rage was later paired, a bit more sensibly, with The Playgirls and the Vampire, an Italian-horror production mostly recalled by old-school monster movie fans and admirers of voluptuous continental on-screen beauties. The weak-tea newspaper campaign in the U.S. for Rage of the Buccaneers could have hardly been helpful in exciting foot traffic into neighborhood cinemas. Though the posters for the U.S. release promised Furious Action! Passionate Love!, the accompanying newspaper adverts offered the far less sensational promise of Excitement plus… Emotional Turbulence. Emotional Turbulence? Meh.

In truth, Rage of the Buccaneers would be dimly recalled, if at all, by U.S. movie fans due to it popping up on television as 1964 drew to a close. In early November of 1964 it was announced - with some degree of ballyhoo - that the NBC network had acquired no fewer than eight post-1960 “first-run” films for television distribution. But even the network’s big newspaper announcement was late out of the starting block. Rage of the Buccaneers had already been televised by several NBC affiliates as early as September 1964.

Several essays and film books would note that Price’s latter ill-fated Italian film, Nefertiti, Queen of the Nile would not actually see a theatrical release in the U.S. market. This is actually untrue. The film had the briefest of runs – as a second feature in support of the Buddy Ebsen comedy Mail Order Bride - at a drive-in theater outside of Phoenix, AZ in March 1964. The film then seemingly disappeared from movie screens - both big and small - until it was picked up as a late-night television programmer in 1966. Shortly thereafter, Nefertiti too fell pretty much off the face of the planet, at least as far as U.S. audiences were concerned.

Then, in 1985, with the home video boom in the ascendant, Nefertiti, Queen of the Nile was briefly resurrected as a “big box” VHS cassette release in the U.S. on the Force Video label. In the UK, there were at least two video cassette releases of Gordon, il Pirata Nero, first as The Black Pirate (Apex Video) and later as Gordon, The Black Pirate (Midas Video). As far as I’m aware, these are the only three editions of these two obscure Vincent Price films to be officially released on the English-speaking home video market, though there are bootlegs circulating of both films. I only dredge up this old history in the, perhaps, overly optimistic hope that Kino Lorber might make note of these glaring deficiencies in their own burgeoning catalog of Vincent Price home video offerings.

In any case, Price’s second professional visit to Italy would prove to be more successful. In January of 1963, Hollywood scene gossip columnists reported that Price would celebrate the New Year by preparing a return to Italy for a “Halloween release of his next horror movie, The Last Man on Earth.” The film was to be based on the novel I am Legend by Richard Matheson. Matheson’s novel, the author’s first, was published in August of 1954 by Fawcett Gold Medal books. It was a slim paperback of one-hundred and sixty pages, but Matheson was no amateur writer, having previously published a score of science-fiction-based short stories in magazines and anthologies.

Matheson’s novel was optioned by Britain’s Hammer Films in 1957, that studio even commissioning the author to write a screenplay for a proposed production. The problem was that the British censor board found Matheson’s screenplay unrelentingly grim and violent, warning should any production be mounted, there was little chance that the film would pass code. So a wary Anthony Hinds at Hammer chose to sell the rights of Matheson’s screenplay to American producer and cinema theater chain owner Robert L. Lippert (Curse of the Fly). Lippert subsequently engaged Price to star in the project, traveling to Rome in late summer of 1962 to arrange crew and casting of the film’s Italian supporting players.

Matheson’s I am Legend recounts the final years of Robert Neville, one of the few survivors of a pandemic turned plague that killed off most of the earth’s population. The rub is that while those afflicted remained technically dead, they retained mobility. Neville goes to great lengths to investigate why the “undead” have transformed into bacillus vampires of a sort: they drink blood and avoid the rays of the sun much as did the Gothic and folkloric vampires of yore did. But otherwise they remained mostly human in appearance save for a decided graveyard pallor.

Neville (renamed Robert Morgan in the film) is a reluctant, modern day, post-apocalyptic Van Helsing. He has chosen to actively seek out and confront the vampire hordes. He really has no other choice as, much to his disdain, he’s under near-constant assault by them. Matheson’s book is an undeniably grim one with an equally fatalistic ending, but his slim volume would go on to influence countless filmmakers and aspiring science-fiction writers in years following publication. In manner of tone and presentation, it’s reasonable to say that George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead was highly and undeniably influenced by The Last Man on Earth.

Price wasn’t terribly excited to travel to Italy in the grim winter season of 1963, but the offer to visit Rome would give the actor the opportunity to canvas galleries and antique stores in search of artworks. In June of 1962 it was announced that Price had entered into his semi-famous partnership with the Sears, Roebuck & Co. to search out art that could be consigned and sold as lithographs through the department store chain. This interest in art was a lifelong passion of the actor’s and he had already been collecting artworks for Sears a month prior to the official press release of their collaboration. The actor told columnist Bob Thomas that his searching out the Vincent Price Collection for Sears had already resulted in a “whirl” of activity, and that he’d already “bought 1,700 paintings and etchings: I’ve got to have 2,500 before the sale starts.”

By Mid-January of 1963 Price was already in Europe, first visiting Paris before traveling on to Rome to begin filming. In the space of three days and visits to the galleries and artist studios of the City of Lights, Price offered that he had already purchased one hundred and fifty paintings that he thought Sears could sell for $300 or less back in the U.S. Columnist Doris Sanders noted that Price had already admitted dropping four thousand U.S. dollars on the very first day of his Parisian shopping spree. It was also noted that the artists Price approached were appreciably happy as the actor – funded by his corporate sponsor - always chose to pay cash up-front.

BY TODD GARBARINI

Send-ups of classic horror films are nothing new. Bud Abbott and Lou Costello starred in the granddaddy of horror comedies, Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein, in 1948 after the original working script The Brain of Frankenstein had its title changed. They later took on the Invisible Man, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and Boris Karloff himself. Mel Brooks danced his way into the cinema history books by making his own comic version of the fabled Mary Shelley classic of a deranged scientist fabricating a man made from body parts and even had the guts to shoot the film in black and white on the original soundstages that James Whale used just over forty years earlier: Young Frankenstein (1974) was the result. The lesser-known Texas-lensed Student Bodies (1981) from Woody Allen collaborator Mickey Rose did an admirable job of poking fun at the slasher movie subgenre that plagued American movie theaters through most of the early to mid-1980’s and is still humorous today, even after the Scary Movie franchise.

I was introduced to Elvira, Mistress of the Dark in September 1982 in Fangoria Magazine (issue #22) from their “Horror-Host Series” by Dan Farren. Having begun as a horror hostess in September 1981 on Southern California’s KHJ-TV’s Movie Macabre weekend show, Elvira (in reality red-haired actress Cassandra Peterson) slowly made her way into syndicated television markets and became a huge sensation, turning verbally ragging on silly horror and science fiction B movies into an art form. The schtick-laden show ran 137 episodes over five years. Well-endowed with impossible-to-not-see cleavage, a huge mane of dark hair and deep red lipstick, Elvira eventually starred in her own film, the 1988 outing Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. While many other Elvira outings occurred in the form of short films and TV-movies, Ms. Petersen reprised her role in Elvira’s Haunted Hills (2002), a loving parody of the Vincent Price/Edgar Allan Poe/Roger Corman thrillers of the 1960’s that she and the filmmakers saw in their youth.

It is the year 1851 and the setting is the Romanian Carpathian Mountains. Elvira and her maid Zou Zou (Mary Jo Smith) are forced out of their room by an innkeeper who does his best Jack Torrance impression from The Shining to rid the premises of these freeloaders. On their way to a can-can show they are due to perform in Paris, they encounter Dr. Bradley Bradley (Scott Atkinson) – no relation to Humbert Humbert – who invites them into his coach to stay the night at Castle Hellsubus. Upon arrival, they meet Lady Emma Hellsubus (Mary Scheer), Count Vladimere Hellsubus (Richard O’Brien) and Lady Roxana (Heather Hopper), Lady Emma and Count Vladimere’s daughter. It turns out that Elvira bears more than a striking resemblance to Count Vladimere Hellsubus’s deceased wife, Elura (not to be confused with the capromorelin oral solution indicated for the management of weight loss in cats with chronic kidney disease of the same name. Whew!)

While investigating the castle, Elvira stumbles into the room of Adrian (Gabi Andronache in a role originally intended for Fabio who declined), a deliberately poorly dubbed hunk with mismatched lips and dialog in a direct nod to Italian horror films. Elvira gives the folks an example of her can-can show and later Count Vladimere thinks Elura is alive after seeing her in the hallway and blames it on a hallucination.

There are several laugh out-loud moments, one involving an empty knight suit, a throw-away line about the Village People, a visual zoom a la Jaws (1975), and other modern-day film references. Even the Academy Awards aren’t off-limits. The ageless Ms. Peterson is endearing in her Elvira get-up and obviously the title is a comic play on her famous, always-on-display assets. This is a film played for laughs and it is amusing and fun. The real stars, however, are the beautiful and opulent sets fashioned by the Romanian crew modeled primarily after The Pit and The Pendulum (1961) and The Haunted Palace (1963). I was even reminded of Narciso Ibáñez Serrador’s The House That Screamed (1969). The beautiful lighting is also reminiscent of cinematographer Luciano Tovoli’s colorful work on Dario Argento’s Suspiria (1977) and Romano Albani’s lighting schemes in Suspiria’s follow-up, Inferno (1980).

Elvira does a fun song number and Richard O’Brien at times looks like Reggie Nalder as Mr. Barlow in Tobe Hooper’s Salem’s Lot (1979).

Elvira’s Haunted Hills was originally released on DVD in October 2002 and again in October 2011 in a “Specially Enhanced Edition”. The bonus features are all ported over from the previous DVD incarnations:

The Blu-ray consists of a restoration from a 4K scan of the original camera negative and it looks stunning in 1080p. The original DVDs did not grasp the image so well and were often murky and dark. This transfer is bright, colorful and clear and the sets look amazing.

There is an introduction by Elvira, Mistress of The Dark which is comical and runs 4:40.

There is an audio commentary with Cassandra Peterson, Mary Scheer, Mary Jo Smith and Scott Atkinson, and Director Sam Irvin who all have terrific fun commenting on the action and memories of filming on a shoestring.

Transylvania or Bust Featurette – this cutely-titled High Definition piece from 2011 runs just over 28 minutes and includes Mary Jo Smith, Mary Scheer, Scott Atkinson and others discussing their experiences not just making the film, but the misadventures entailed in getting to the locations, which were more scary than what ends up in onscreen!

The Making of Elvira’s Haunted Hills is Standard Definition, runs 22 minutes and features interviews with much of the cast and crew, but best of all it contains behind-the-scenes footage shot during principal photography.

Elvira in Romania Featurette – this is a cute Standard Definition interview with a Romanian television crew and Elvira and runs about 46 minutes. There are also test shots and Elvira mingling with locals.

Interview with Co-Star Richard O’Brien runs 6:08 and is an onscreen interview that was shot during filming.

Trailers – two trailers for Elvira’s Haunted Hills

Outtakes – this runs 54 seconds and my only complaint is I would have liked to have seen more of it.

Photo Gallery

Newly commissioned cover artwork

Highly recommended for Elvira completists.

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“STREET SCENES”

By Raymond Benson

Scottish filmmaker Lynne Ramsay burst onto the scene in the late 1990s with the striking independent picture, Ratcatcher, which may or may not have been somewhat of an autobiographical meditation on being a young child in early 1970s Glasgow.

Ratcatcher brought Ramsay the Carl Foreman Award for Newcomer in British Film at the BAFTA Awards, as well as other prizes from various film festivals. It is indeed an art film of high quality that is filled with haunting imagery, melancholic moods, and wonderful performances by a host of young child actors (as well as adults).

The year is 1973 or thereabouts, and ghetto-like sections of Glasgow, Scotland, are on track to be demolished. The residents have been promised new housing in more modern structures that are being built. Life on these tenement-like streets is harsh. Often there are no utilities, a stagnant and dangerous canal runs along the street, and currently there is a garbage strike. Trash is piled on the sidewalks, creating a massive health hazard and an attractive gathering spot for rats. The children run around and play in this environment. Our protagonist, James (William Eadie), is a rather lonely, unhappy kid with few real friends. He is the middle child with two sisters (one older and one younger). James is often the target of bullies (a gang of slightly older boys who roam the streets causing trouble). His father (Tommy Flanagan) is a drunk and wife-beater, and his well-meaning mother (Mandy Matthews) does what she can to keep the family together and fed. After accidentally causing the unwitnessed drowning of one of his only friends in the canal, James buries the guilt and lives with it as he navigates the horrid conditions of his life. At one point, James befriends a slightly older girl, Margaret Anne (Leanne Mullen), who is unwillingly the community tart for the boy-gang. Ultimately, James must come to terms with what accounts for his existence, such as it is, while the family waits to be called to their new home.

The film is a slice of life, a combination of street scenes and life in tiny, decrepit flats. The squalor is tangible, and one can almost smell the stench. Director Ramsay has presented a visceral and yet poetic, impressionistic look at poverty. Her approach might remind one of the works of Terrence Malick, as there is much more visual storytelling than dialogue (and, in fact, one of the pieces of music heard in the film is what Malick used as the main title song for his Badlands, the Orff-Keetman piece Gassenhauer).

The dialogue is heavy Scottish, which may be unintelligible to North American audiences. When Ratcatcher was released in cinemas in the U.S., English subtitles accompanied the film. It is highly recommended to those outside of the U.K. to turn on the subtitle function of this superb Blu-ray disk produced by The Criterion Collection.

Upgraded from an earlier Criterion DVD edition, Ratcatcher comes in a new 4K digital restoration, supervised by Ramsay and cinematographer Alwin Küchler (Ramsay and Küchler attended film school together). The movie is in 2.0 surround DTS-HD Master Audio.

Supplements on the original DVD are ported over: a 2002 interview with Ramsay, and three of her early shorts (Small Deaths, Kill the Day, and Gasman), and the trailer. New to the Blu-ray supplements are an updated 2021 interview with Ramsay, and a 2020 audio interview with Küchler. The booklet comes with essays by film critic Girish Shambu and filmmaker Barry Jenkins.

Ratcatcher is for fans of international cinema, modern Scottish culture and history, and independent filmmaking.

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BY TODD GARBARINI

In Jonathan Mostow’s Breakdown (1997), Jeffrey and Amy Taylor (Kurt Russell and Kathleen Quinlan) seem like a normal and nice middle-aged couple moving from New England to San Diego to hopefully start a new life from a past we are not privy to, though it’s one fraught with financial issues. On the way, Jeffrey nearly sideswipes a dirty brown Ford F150 while reaching for his thermos and suffers invective from the driver (M.C. Gainey). A minor confrontation ensues later when both men refuel at the same gas station. Words are exchanged. Upon leaving, the Taylor’s new Grand Cherokee soon malfunctions, and they are temporarily stranded as the F150 blows past them. Fortunately, an 18-wheeler soon stops to help. The truck’s driver, Red Barr (the fine character actor J.T. Walsh in his penultimate screen performance), gives Amy a ride to Belle’s Diner to call for help – except that she never makes it.

If you recall Steven Spielberg’s 1971 television film Duel, Dennis Weaver portrayed David Mann, an Everyman traveling to a sales account when his life suddenly changes after passing a huge oil truck. Incensed by this perceived breach of road etiquette, the truck driver chases and taunts Mann throughout the rest of the film. Duel is arguably the granddaddy of road rage movies, making riveting cinema out of a cat-and-mouse game that holds the audience’s attention the entire time. Likewise, Breakdown holds the equivalent mantle as it pertains to missing persons thrillers. As a horror film fan of forty years, there is little that I have seen that gets under my skin, George Sluizer’s icy 1988 Dutch/French character study Spoorloos, known in the States as The Vanishing, being a notable exception. Mr. Russell and Mr. Walsh have shared the screen multiples times together, specifically in Robert Towne’s Tequila Sunrise (1989), Ron Howard’s Backdraft (1991), and Stuart Baird’s Executive Decision (1994). Here they pair up again in a frightening game that begins when, following unsuccessful attempts to glean info from the patrons and owner of Belle’s Diner (a terrific turn by character actor Jack McGee), Jeffrey catches sight of Red’s truck and pulls him over to the side of the road. Jeffrey’s interrogation of Red regarding his wife’s whereabouts is met by a perplexing display of gaslighting when Red claims he doesn’t even know what Jeff is talking about. For a moment, we feel that perhaps this is even Red’s twin and that there has been a complete mix-up. Following a search of Red’s vehicle aided by a passing sheriff (Rex Linn), Jeffrey is, like Cary Grant in Alfred Hitchcock’s North by Northwest (1959) as described by Cliff Robertson in the 1973 documentary on Mr. Hitchcock, “a man alone – innocent, defenseless…” He realizes that it’s up to him to find Amy – and he has no idea who to trust or even where to begin. What follows is the most intense nail-biting thriller I’ve ever seen. I don’t want to oversell the film, but I will anyway. Jeffrey moves mountains to locate his wife and when he does, the tension and anxiety could not be more powerful. One thing I noticed: Red has white wings in his hair like the Paulie Walnuts character on The Sopranos.

The ending of Breakdown has been shrugged off by some critics as being unworthy of what comes before, and even “ludicrous”. I must respectfully disagree. By the end of the film, what we are looking for is a massive payoff, and I believe that we get it in spades. The “ludicrous” ending is, instead, tension-filled and satisfying. Detractors never seem to offer an alternative. I am personally thankful to Dino DeLaurentiis for making a go of it and letting Jonathan Mostow direct this film. Everyone has to start somewhere, and this directorial debut is remarkable.

In the days of VHS and laserdisc prior to large-screen televisions, Breakdown is a film that I owned on the latter format in a letterboxed edition. In 1998, the film suffered the indignity of a rather lackluster transfer on DVD when it was window-boxed and lacked 16 x 9 anamorphic enhancement, rendering the DVD nearly unwatchable. The new Blu-ray from Paramount Pictures Home Entertainment is part of “Paramount Presents” which is described as a line of Blu-ray releases for collectors and fans showcasing movies that have generally not made it to Blu-ray before. Breakdown is number 26 in the list of titles of films showcased on Blu-ray in these new special editions. The new transfer is a revelation.

In addition to the new transfer, the Blu-ray contains the following extras:

A feature-length audio commentary with the director and Kurt Russell. If you have ever heard any of the previous commentaries that Mr. Russell has been involved with, specifically with director John Carpenter on Escape from New York (1981) and The Thing (1982), you know that he is one of the most entertaining people to listen to. He also has a phenomenal laugh and chuckles through most of the film, even making fun of Jeffrey! Hilarious. They speak about Dino DeLaurentiis; having gotten cinematographer Doug Milsom who worked on four films with Stanley Kubrick; Mr. Russell imitating Dennis Weaver in Duel (“You can’t catch me on the grade!”); the director discussing how he wrote a role for Morgan Freeman as a character whose wife was kidnapped and teams up with Jeffrey, the idea later wisely written out of the script; Roger Ebert criticized the bank scene, but the commentary states that they were rushed to get it done on the location but I think it works just fine. Overall, a truly fun and entertaining listen and easily the best extra.

Newly commissioned alternative artwork.

The musical score is isolated on one of the audio tracks, a great feature that I wish more companies would provide.

Filmmaker Focus - Jonathan Mostow (10:45) – This piece is a spotlight on the director that highlights much of what was said during the commentary.

Victory is Hers: Kathleen Quinlan on Breakdown (4:22) – I was so happy to see Kathleen Quinlan included in this edition and she discusses some of her experiences making the film.

A Brilliant Partnership: Martha De Laurentiis on Breakdown (8:18) – This is a piece dedicated to one of the producers of the film. Mrs. De Laurentiis worked with her late husband, Dino, on the film and this is a look at their partnership.

Alternate Opening with optional Jonathan Mostow commentary (11:00) – Along with the film’s commentary, this is a very cool piece to see, as its inclusion changes the whole mood of the film. The credits run slowly over the opening and the sequence establishes Jeffrey as all-thumbs – lightyears removed from the Snake Plissken Mr. Russell played fifteen years earlier. It was the correct decision to remove this footage, though I feel badly for the other actors in the scene to have been excised from such a terrific film!

Rounding out the extras are trailers for Breakdown, Kiss the Girls, and Hard Rain.

There are two Blu-rays of this film available, one from the Australian company Via Vision’s Imprint line and the Paramount Presents disc. Both Blu-rays are worth owning for die-hard fans of the film as they each contain completely different extras, but if you have to choose just one, I recommend the Paramount disc as it contains the director/actor commentary and the excised alternate opening.

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“A CAN OF SANDWORMS”

By Raymond Benson

In anticipation of the upcoming release of Denis Villeneuve’s remake, the excellent boutique label Arrow Video has issued a superb 2-disk Limited Edition package of David Lynch’s 1984 film, Dune. It comes in two versions—one in 4K Ultra HD, and the other in standard Blu-ray.

Filmmaker David Lynch today refuses to discuss Dune, which he made for producer Dino De Laurentiis (the actual producer was his daughter, Raffaella De Laurentiis) for a whopping $40-42 million. It was a colossal flop at the time, was critically reviled, and audiences didn’t care much for it either. However, over the years, Dune has gained a cult following and it assuredly has its share of defenders, including Frank Herbert, the author of the original 1965 novel.

The history of the production has long been a topic of discussion among film historians and cinephiles. Attempts to film the complex, epic science fiction tome began shortly after the book’s publication. Perhaps Alejandro Jodorowsky’s version has the most legendary status in Duneworld, but his vision never made it past some pre-production work. Producer Arthur P. Jacobs had his fingers in the sand at one time, and even Ridley Scott wanted to make the movie.

Laurentiis ended up with the rights, and he hired Lynch, fresh off the success of The Elephant Man (1980), to write and direct. Lynch had reportedly been offered the job to direct Return of the Jedi around the same time, but he chose to go with Dune. He has regretted it ever since, for he had no idea what a can of worms—er, sandworms—he was opening.

The challenge was to condense the complicated story into a feature-length film. The smart thing at the time would have been to create a television miniseries (as was done by others years later). Lynch’s first assembly after shooting wrapped was around four hours long (prior to post-production visual effects work), but the producer was required by the studio (Universal) to deliver a motion picture half that length. Lynch’s theatrical cut clocked in at two hours and seventeen minutes, and therein lies the problem with Dune.

Dune is a multi-hour story; there is simply no way to tell it in two hours and seventeen minutes. After the experience of making Dune, Lynch would forever insist on creative final cut on anything he would make.

To attempt to capsulize the story in a paragraph is absurd, but here goes. We’re in a universe where noble families residing on different planets vie for control of a desert world called Arrakis, or “Dune,” the source for the most valuable commodity in space—the spice “mélange,” which not only gives consumers the ability to foresee the future but also provides the Spacing Guild the power to “fold space,” i.e., achieve interplanetary travel in the blink of an eye. Paul Atreides (Kyle MacLachlan, in his first film role) is the son of Dune’s current custodian, Duke Leto (Jürgen Prochnow), and he may or may not be the “Kwisatz Haderach,” a super being who is more a less a messiah of an otherworldly religion. The emperor (José Ferrer) distrusts Leto and gives Baron Harkkonnen (Kenneth McMillan) the green light to attack House Atreides and kill Leto. Paul escapes the slaughter of his people and hides out with his mother, Lady Jessica (Francesca Annis) in the desert among the indigenous Fremen people and the gigantic sandworms that produce the spice. Will Paul become the Kwisatz Haderach, eliminate House Harkkonnen, and take back control of Dune? Only a spoiler will answer that.

So… despite the rather negative reputation Dune has, there is quite a lot to admire about it. Firstly, if one is a fan of David Lynch and his rather unique visual sensibilities, the picture is a feast of wonder, awe, and eye candy. No other movie looks like Dune. Hats off to production designer Anthony Masters who, with Lynch at the helm, created a fantastically grotesque and gorgeously macabre world in which the story takes place. It is part cyberpunk and Jules Verne and yet also very Lynchian in terms of the organically bizarre. Secondly, the cast is terrific. Besides the aforementioned actors named in the synopsis above, we also are treated to eccentric performances by Sean Young, Max von Sydow, Everitt McGill, Brad Dourif, Sting, Dean Stockwell, Linda Hunt, Virginia Madsen, Freddie Jones, Patrick Stewart, Richard Jordan, Paul Smith, Leonardo Cimino, Jack Nance, and many others. Thirdly, technical aspects are top-notch. The visual effects are wondrous and weird, and the cinematography by the great Freddie Francis is masterful. Fourthly, there is no question that the direction displays a command of style and mood that only Lynch can evoke. There is a poetry and melancholy and horror about the proceedings that is unquestionably Lynch’s doing.

Unfortunately, though, all this isn’t enough. Dune fails to engage an audience in its very heady tale that is meant to be as profound as it is visually scrumptious. Lynch was forced to cram important exposition and wholesale sequences into short monologues and dream sequences. It is understandable that those unfamiliar with the novel were completely bewildered by the movie (this reviewer was already well familiar with the book in 1984 and thus enjoyed the picture—to a point—more than most).

Still… for fans of David Lynch and Frank Herbert… Dune is worth seeing.

Arrow Video’s Limited Edition 2-disk package is impressive. The new 4K restoration of the movie itself looks spectacular, much improved over previous releases. It comes with an original uncompressed stereo audio and DTS-HD MA 5.1 surround sound, and optional English subtitles for the hearing impaired. Two new audio commentaries accompany the picture—one by film historian Paul M. Sammon, and another by Mike White of The Projection Booth podcast.

Supplements abound. A few are port-overs from previous home video releases, which include a 2003 documentary on the making of the film, and several featurettes on the technical aspects of the picture. Approximately fifteen minutes of deleted scenes, introduced by producer Raffaella De Laurentiis, are also repeated from an earlier Blu-ray release. Brand new supplements include an excellent feature on the score by Toto (and Brian Eno, for one track), featuring interviews with band members Steve Lukather and Steve Porcaro. A piece on Dune merchandising hosted by toy collector/producer Brian Stillman is interesting for the history of the misguided marketing campaign for a film that couldn’t possibly appeal to children. There is a new interview with makeup effects artist Giannetto de Rossi, and archive interviews with production coordinator Golda Offenheim, actor Paul Smith, and makeup effects artist Christopher Tucker. Destination Dune is a 1983 featurette used to promote the movie at conventions and publicity events. Theatrical trailers, TV spots, and an image gallery round out the disk supplements.

There are goodies, too! A 60-page booklet contains writings by Andrew Nette, Christian McCrea, and Charlie Brigden; a 1984 American Cinematographer interview with sound designer Alan Splet; excerpts from the book Lynch on Lynch; and a Dune terminology glossary. There’s a large fold-out double-sided poster featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Dániel Taylor, as well as postcard-sized lobby card reproductions. The jewel case sports a reversible sleeve with the original artwork on one side and the new art by Taylor on the other.

No matter what one might think of David Lynch’s Dune, Arrow Video’s Limited Edition release is worth a revisit. Dune may have been a failure, but it is a puzzling, glorious, and fascinating piece of cinematic art that is one of a kind.

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