The Manila International Film Festival was set to open its doors to guests on 20 January 1982. The date was nearly a year to the day that strong-man Philippine President Ferdinand E. Marco had lifted his controversial eight-year term of martial law restrictions in the country. But the lifting of the martial law brought only small relief to the majority populace. ThePhilippines was still racked by issues of rampant poverty, wealth inequality and unemployment. Bothpolitical and cultural observers thought itfolly to stage such a gilded film event during this transitional period.The Associated Press reported the festival was toconvene in a building costing some 21.5 million dollars - and still under construction.The film center, designed to housescreening rooms and film laboratories,was to also serve as primary archive of Filipino cinema holdings.
The center, described as an eight-story “Parthenon-like Film Palace” was ordered to be built withinthe time of 170 construction days. In such rushed circumstance, aroof collapse occurredreportedly endingthe lives of some fourteen construction workers. The order to erect thepalatial center wasgiven by none other than Imelda Marcos, first lady of the Philippines, often chided for her “edifice complex” excesses. Many saw this wild expenditure as sorry government decision-makingconsidering the nation’s significant economic issues. But Marcos – appearing before the press in a pair of lovely pair of shoes, no doubt – saw it differently.
Marcoscountered that a strong Filipino “film industry would help reduce Manila’s crime rate, because it would give people something to do in their leisure time.” But she was also mindful that a prestigious festival might burnish her country’s damaged image worldwide – all those pesky claims of human rights violations continued to dog the regime.Though anti-Marco forces promised to disrupt the festival should it be held, the army was prepared to protect. There was, thankfully, no violence.
On 2 February 1982, a correspondent from Variety sent in a dispatch from the inaugural staging of the twelve-day festival. The report made note that Filipino film product wasn’t often seen outside the borders of the Pacific island nation. He reasoned this was due to the selling inexperience of local producers. They had worked in isolation for so long, they simply were not familiar with the film industry’s “aggressive marketing tactics.” Two months prior to the actual staging of the event, Variety described how “reluctant” Filipino producers had been invited to a seminar – one designed to stoke their “sales offensive” skills through “showmanship” tactics. But the trade sighed that despite the well-intentioned marketing teach-in, the Filipino film industry had been too long xenophobic, their business-side interest mostly “half-hearted.”
Regardless, and despite many boycotts of the Marcos-inspired event, there was a bubbling of international interest in Filipino film product. Brokers had expressed significant interest in buying distribution rights to eight of the Filipino features offered and available, the sum of those investments bringing sales of nearly a half-million dollars to local producers. Nearly 300 films had been made available to international film brokers at the event, sixty of Filipino provenance. One of the most popular Filipino films – described breathlessly as the festival’s “Top scorer by far” - was an unusual, over-the-top secret agent pastiche featuring a two-foot, nine-inch actor named Weng Wengas central hero. (Critic Alexander Walker of London’s Evening Standard would mockingly describe the diminutive Weng as “a James Bond type cut-off”). The Weng film, directed by Eddie Nicart, was mischievously titled For Y’urHeight Only, an obvious word playon the most recent James Bond screen adventure For Your Eyes Only.
I can’t say with certainty that For Y’ur Height Onlyplayed the grindhouse theaters of “The Deuce” on Manhattan’s 42nd Street, but the film would have fit in well there. It’s a spy-film fever-dream of sorts: thecrack addicts and alcoholics in the grungy red seats could awake from their own narcotic-fed hallucinations and behold images on screen even wilder beyond their own madness’s.This was James-Bond-on-a-budget.A very low budget.Weng’s “Agent 00” is even introduced via an ersatz 007 gun barrel sequence, the moment heightened by the pulsing –and very familiar – opening strains of John Barry’s “James Bond Theme.”
The film itself is all spy-film formula.For Y’ur Height Onlyopens with the kidnapping of a scientist who holds the secret formula to a coveted “N Bomb” weapon. The syndicate behind the kidnapping is led by the mysterious “Mr. Giant” who chooses to communicate withhis minions through a blinking-light, oversized facial mirror.Mr. Giant’s crime syndicate is not, all things considered, particularly political. They also dabble in street-level crimes: drugs, prostitution and theft. They’re a cabal of rogues,openly declaring, “The forces of good are our enemy and they must be exterminated.”
In reaction to the kidnapping, little-person Agent 00 (Weng, described as a “man of few words”), is summoned to report to the office of an ersatz “M.” Weng’s boss breaks down the situation before offeringthe agent a staggering number of gadgets to put to use while working in the field. These include a pen that “doesn’t write words,” a tiny jet-pack, and a razor-brim hat with boomerang-return capability. Of courseWeng manages to dutifully employall of these gadgets while targeting the evildoers: one minion remarks, inarguably, that Wengis “a one-an army,”anothertags him as the “scourge of the secret service.”
Honestly, Weng hardly requiresall the gadgetry. He parachutes from the top of a high-rise building using an ordinary bumbershoot for ballast (think Batman ’66 Penguin-style). But he more often employs his karateskills to bring down platoonsof bad guys with multiple sharp kicks to their groins.Weng also appears a lot smarter than his adversaries as well: he’salways a step or two ahead of theircounter-moves.In a filmbrimming-to-the-edgeswith non-stop action, Weng is constantly seen climbing above or understructures orsliding across floors to vanquish evil gunmen. The film reaches its climax when Weng engages in mano a mano fisticuffs with Mr. Giant, at the villain’s secret lair on a hidden island.
I believe it’s reasonable to saythat for all of its eccentric, energetic charm, For Y’ur Height Onlyis completely and utterly bonkers.It’s also a very cheap looking feature film, the settings gritty and tawdry, the scripting ridiculous. The faces of the entire cast are entirely covered in the glistening sheen of South Pacific humidity and sweat. The film’s atrocious dubbing (from native Tagalog to English) – not the fault of the original filmmakers, of course – burdens the soundtrack: an additional later ofaural nonsensetocompliment the madness on screen.Though For Y’ur Height Onlyis often categorized as an “action-comedy” the original filmmakers took exception, arguing it was no such thing. In their mind, they had made a straight-up formulaic spy film, albeit one with an unusual actor in the lead role.
Following the great reaction and interest inFor Y’ur Height Only at the Manila fest, there were discussions of grumbling embarrassment among Filipino artists and intellectuals in attendance. How could this amateurishly produced extravaganza of pure exploitative nonsense have bested the country’s more significantly erudite and artistic entries?But the film brokers at the festival weren’t highbrows. They were interested in buying cheap and making a few dollars off this novelty spy adventure. Kurt Palm of West Germany’s Repa-Film Productions,purchased the rights to For Yur Height Only(and two other of Weng’s films) for $60,000. Sri Lanka chipped in an additional $1500 for Height rights. Before the festival closed,the producers had sold export rights of Height to distributors in Belgium, France, Indonesia, Italy, Morocco, Nigeria and Switzerland, as well asa number of South American countries.Continue reading "AGENT DOWN: THE IMPROBABLE RISE AND SAD FALL OF SECRET AGENT "OO""
Technically speaking, OSS 117 secret agent Hubert
Bonisseur de La Bath is not a James
Bond knock off.The creation of wildly
prolific French author Jean Bruce, the first literary adventure of the spy arrived
in 1949 with the publication of Tu parles d'une ingénue (Ici OSS 117).This
would pre-date the April 1953 publication of the first Ian Fleming James Bond
novel, Casino Royale, by nearly four years.In the years following the publication of that
first 007 thriller to his last in 1965, Fleming would deliver an impressive thirteen
James Bond novels and nine short stories.
In contrast, Jean Bruce would
publish no fewer (and possibly more) than eighty-eight to ninety OSS 117
pulp-adventures between 1949 and March of 1963, the month and year of his
passing. It’s difficult to determine how many of Bruce’s novels were of his
composition alone. His widow, Josette – and later a teaming of the Bruce’s son
and daughter – would continue the pulp series into the early 1990s. So determined
bibliophiles will have their work cut out for them if they wish to track down
all of the 250+ published OSS 117 novels.
If OSS 117 beat James Bond to
the stalls of book-sellers, he also managed to beat him to the cinema
screen.Two OSS 117 films were released
throughout Western Europe and foreign markets in 1957 and 1960: OSS 117 n'est pas mort (OSS 117 is not Dead)
andLe bal des espions
(Danger in the Middle East).The latter title,
interestingly, does not feature “Hubert Bonisseur de La Bath.”Though based on one of Bruce’s OSS 117
novels, a messy rights-issue prevented the filmmakers to use the central
character’s moniker.These earliest
films, produced as routine crime dramas by differing production companies (and
featuring different actors in the title role), came and went without attention
nor fanfare.
But in 1963 Bruce’s OSS 117 character was resurrected as
a cinematic property following the success of Terence’s Young’s Dr. No, the first James Bond screen
adventure.The spy pictures comprising
Kino Lorber’s OSS 117 Five Film
Collection are tailored as pastiches of the popular James Bond adventures
of the 1960s.This new Blu ray set
features the entirety of OSS 117 film thrillers produced 1963 through 1968
during the height of Bondmania.And,
just as the Eon series offered a trio of actors to portray James Bond
(1962-1973), the OSS series would likewise present three in the role of Colonel
Hubert Bonisseur de La Bath.Each actor
would bring some aspect of their own personalities to their characterizations.
Of course, the name Hubert Bonisseur de La Bath is a bit
of a Franco-linguistic mouthful to market successfully overseas.So, throughout the five films the character usually
assumes an Anglo-friendly alias which helps move things along a bit more
smoothly: he alternately assumes – among others - such covert surnames as
Landon, Barton, Delcroix, Wilson and Mulligan.It certainly makes his character’s many “personal” on-screen introductions
easier for all involved.
The Kino set starts off chronologically with 1963’s OSS 117 is Unleashed (original title OSS 117 se déchaîne).Like the four films to follow, the series
were all Franco-Italia co-productions and distributed by Gaumont Films.Unlike those four, OSS 117 is Unleashed is filmed in black-and-white.The monochrome photography is not really an
issue.But cinemagoers were certainly cheated
of enjoying the beautiful beaches and Cliffside scenery of the village of
Bonifacio (off the Corsican strait) in vibrant color.
In OSS 117 is
Unleashed our hero (American actor Kerwin Mathews, best known to American
audiences for his roles in Ray Harryhausen’s special-effect laden epics The 7th Voyage of Sinbad (1958) and The 3 Worlds of Gulliver (1960), is sent
to Corsica to investigate the suspicious death of a fellow agent.We’re told, suspiciously, there’s been, “lots
of accidents among agents near Bonifacio.”A preamble to the film, culled mostly of cold war era newsreel footage,
alerts that an unspecified enemy is working towards “neutralizing” free-world atomic
submarine movements in the area. With
conspirators tagged with such names as “Sacha” and “Boris,” we can reasonably
assume its east-of-the-Iron Curtain intelligence agents behind the plot.
Initially posing as a relative of the recently targeted
and now deceased CIA frogman (and later as a Lloyds of London insurance adjustor),
Mathews must dispatch and/or fend off a series of enemy agents and perhaps a duplicitous
woman.In due course, he survives a poisoning,
several (well-choreographed) hand-to-hand combat sequences and even a submerged
spear-gun and knifing frogman attack.The latter occurs while he’s search of a mysterious submerged
subterranean grotto.The base is outfitted
(as one might expect) with high-tech equipment and a detection system designed
to bring about “the end of atomic submarines.”The secreted grotto is also equipped with a built-in self-destruct
button… always handy, just in case.This
is all definitely Bond-on-a budget style filmmaking.Of course, the idea of covertly tracking atomic
submarines movements brings to mind the storyline of the far-more-lavishly
staged The Spy Who Loved Me (1977).
As far as I can determine, OSS 117 is Unleashed was never released theatrically in the
U.S.But Mathews’ second (and final) outing
as OSS 117, Panic in Bangkok (Banco à Bangkok pour OSS 117) (1964) would
have a belated release in the U.S. (as Shadow
of Evil) in December of 1966.Regardless,
Shadow of Evil was not exhibited as a
primary attraction in the U.S. market.It most often appeared as the under bill to Christopher Lee in The Brides of Fu Manchu or (more
sensibly) to Montgomery Clift’s political suspense-thriller The Defector.
In Panic in Bangkok,
Mathews is dispatched to Thailand to, once again, investigate the assassination
of a fellow agent.The murdered CIA operative
had been investigating a possible correlation between anti-cholera vaccines
produced by Bangkok’s Hogby Laboratories to an outbreak of a deadly plague in
India.The trail leads Mathews to
suspect a certain mysterious Dr. Sinn (Robert Hossein) is somehow involved.Unlike the previous film which lacked a singular
villain with a foreboding presence (ala Dr. No), the filmmakers offer
cinemagoers a more exotic adversary in Dr. Sinn.
Vinegar Syndrome has released a special edition of the 1968 whodunnit Western "5 Card Stud". It's an unusual title for the company, which generally specializes in releasing first rate special editions of obscure cult films and vintage erotica. The film was a follow-up project between veteran producer Hal Wallis and director Henry Hathaway, who had great success with their 1965 Western "The Sons of Katie Elder" which top-lined John Wayne and Dean Martin, who were reunited six years after co-starring in Howard Hawks' classic "Rio Bravo". "Stud" is by no means a classic, but it is a highly entertaining, offbeat entry in the genre, combining traditional Western elements with the novel idea of incorporating a plot concerning serial murders. Martin plays a character with a Hollywoodish name, Van Morgan. He's a professional gambler who finances his life and travels by dressing up like a dude and finding great success in the gambling parlors of Denver. In between games, he leads a low-key life in a small town of Ricon, Colorado, which is attracting miners intent on finding gold that is rumored to in the surrounding area. When the film opens, he is embroiled in a hard-fought game of poker with local men that extends well into the night. When one of the players is revealed to be cheating, the hot-headed Nick Evers (Roddy McDowell) overreacts and gets the other men to join him in tying up the culprit, riding him out by a nearby bridge to lynch him. Van attempts to stop the hanging, but Nick knocks him out with the butt of his pistol. Not much is done about the crime, since Nick is the son of beloved local cattle baron Sig Evers (Denver Pyle), a widower who runs the ranch with Nick and his sister Nora (Katherine Justice), who are both heirs to the cattle ranch. Nora clearly is smitten by Van, who is reluctant to formally court her, given the fact that she is a decent woman and he lives a somewhat indecent lifestyle. Things kick into gear when one-by-one the men who participated in the fateful poker game are murdered.
The plot is yet another example of Agatha Christie's classic suspense novel "Ten Little Indians" having influenced films of every type of genre. However, the script by the estimable Marguerite Roberts (who would collaborate with Wallis and Hathaway the next year for the triumphant "True Grit") gives the movie an unusual angle for a Western. Roberts had adapted a little-known novel titled "Glory Gulch" by Ray Gaulden and by all accounts took liberties to improve the story substantially. The movie comes to life with the introduction of the film's most dynamic character, the Reverend Rudd (Robert Mitchum), a gunslinging preacher who arrives out of nowhere to open the town's first chapel, determined to bring God into the lives of the town's hedonistic inhabitants. Rudd is a preacher in the fire-and-brimstone tradition. He's outwardly polite but also displays a healthy dose of cynicism. When one of the murders occurs in the chapel, he teams with Van to find the culprit as each of the poker players become increasingly paranoid that they might be the next victim.
The whodunnit aspect of the script is done away with when the identity of the killer is revealed well before the climax. The villain's identity won't come as a shock to any astute viewer, but it's an awful lot of fun watching the clues unravel. Martin was criticized by some reviewers for sleepwalking through his part, but it's an unfair criticism. He gives a perfectly fine performance even if he is upstaged by Mitchum in the meatier and more interesting role. Inger Stevens, in one of her final screen roles before tragically committing suicide at age 35, appears as Lily, a local madame who moves into town with her "girls" and opens a bordello disguised as an upscale tonsorial parlor, which results in some amusing dialogue and sight gags. Van finds himself torn between good girl Nora and the exotic bad girl Lily. The film boasts a marvelous cast of beloved character actors, some of whom only have bit roles. In addition to Denver Pyle, you can relish the presence of Yaphet Kotto, who is excellent in an early career performance. Other participants include John Anderson, Ruth Springford, Roy Jenson,Whit Bissell and Hope Summers, who was a regular on "The Andy Griffith Show". The only off-key note is provided by the miscast Roddy McDowell, who plays a villain in traditional Roddy McDowell style, with a quasi-English accent and an erudite manner that doesn't fit his role as a hard scrabbled cattle rancher. Hathaway's direction is spot-on and the film also offers a quirky musical score by Maurice Jarre that seems to emulate the music found in the Sergio Leone Westerns. We even get to hear Dino warble the catchy title song.
The Vinegar Syndrome release is highly impressive, having been newly scanned and restored in 4K from its original camera negative. Aside from a blurry few seconds in the opening poker game the rest of transfer is excellent. The sleeve has very creative artwork by Tony Stella that seems to pay tribute to the Italian movie poster designs of the era. (There is also reversible sleeve artwork that shows the stars.) There's a 16-page, amply illustrated collector's booklet with an excellent and informative essay by film historian Jim Healy, who astutely points out elements of the film noir genre that are interwoven in the movie. Historian Lizzie Francke provides an excellent video essay about the dramatic life and career of Marguerite Roberts, who managed to rebound after being blacklisted during the dark days of McCarthyism. Film critic Walter Chaw provides a video essay that is devoted entirely to the life and career of Henry Hathaway, and states the obvious: he was always underrated. There is also an impressive commentary track by film book author and Cinema Retro columnist Brian Hannan, who provides plenty of very interesting insights into the making of the film and the Western genre of the 1960s. (He points out that "5 Card Stud" was quite successful at the boxoffice.) As side note, Hannan also runs the addictive blog "The Magnificent 60s".
I don't know if there will be more films of this type released by Vinegar Syndrome, but I hope this isn't an aberration and that there will be more to follow, especially if they are presented in such a fine manner.
In
“Man-Eater of Kumaon,” a 1948 feature now available on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber
Studio Classics, Dr. John Collins (Wendell Corey) undertakes an ill-fated
big-game hunt in the distant land of the movie’s title—an actual region of
India in the Himalayan foothills, not a fantasy world orbiting somewhere
between planets Coruscant and Dune as the exotic name might suggest nowadays.Stalking a tiger in the underbrush, Collins
inflicts an agonizing but not fatal injury as his bullet severs one of the
tiger’s toes.His Indian guides warn
that the wounded tiger will begin attacking and killing humans, and they urge
him to finish what he started.But the
American doesn’t
feel particularly responsible for the villagers now at the mercy of the
carnivore.In his case, it’s less a
matter of Western chauvinism than a general lack of empathy for other people
whatever their ethnicity, a shortcoming that cost him his marriage back in the
States.
After
recovering from an onset of malaria, Collins plans to try his luck inSumatra next.But the tiger has already begun its depredations, and on his way to
Delhi, the hunter encounters a little boy, Panwah, orphaned by the big
cat.Collins conveys the child to a
nearby village, where he is taken in by a young couple, Narain (Sabu) and Lali
(Joanne Page), whom the American befriends.In part, we infer, he becomes close to the loving couple because they
remind him of what he lost back home when his wife divorced him.Still, he resists the idea that, having
turned the tiger into a killer of humans, it’s up to him to restore peace and
security by finishing the job—until the attacks become personal when Lali is
badly mauled while saving Panwah.
“Man-Eater
of Kumaon” was loosely based on a best-selling memoir by big-game hunter Jim
Corbett, who in real life was neither an American nor a disenchanted
physician.This wasn’t the first or last
instance of filmmakers purchasing a popular book, keeping the title for name
recognition, and throwing out most everything else.Unlike many books and films that have
glorified big-game hunting as a macho rite of passage, the dilemma facing John
Collins is a crisis of conscience, not a challenge to his ability to secure a
trophy head.Still, animal-rights
advocates and conservationists are likely to be disturbed by scenes of the
hunter pointing his rifle at the tiger whatever the context.Now, laws would require that the cat be
tranquillised as the first resort and relocated to another habitat away from
humans, not killed.Aside from Sabu, all
the Indians in the story are portrayed by non-Indian actors, a practice that
wouldn’t begin to change for another ten years, when Kamala Devi and I.S Johar
appeared in prominent supporting roles in another movie about ferocious
felines, “Harry Black and the Tiger” (1958).Arguing that studios should have been more inclusive in the 1940s is a
little like contending that Ford’s Theatre should have had metal detectors in
1865.Nevertheless, it’s still a hurdle
for many viewers today, accustomed as we’ve become to the routine presence of
Indian and Indian-American actors in contemporary TV shows and movies, although
critically beloved classics like “Gunga Din” and “Black Narcissus” often seem
to get a pass in this regard.
Well
acted by the always dependable Wendell Corey and capably directed by Byron
Haskin (better known to Sci-Fi enthusiasts for 1953’s “The War of the Worlds”
and six episodes of “The Outer Limits” in 1963-64), “Man-Eater of Kumaon” shows
to good advantage in the new Blu-ray from Kino Lorber.The movie was filmed in black and white by
acclaimed cinematographer William C. Mellor, a choice that may have been
necessitated by the budgetary logistics of incorporating old B&W stock
footage into new shots of a tiger prowling through a backlot jungle set, but it
serves a dramatic purpose too.Mellor’s
glistening daytime shots and hi-def, misty nocturnal compositions underscore a
Film Noir quality in the plot, as fate manoeuvres John Collins into an
initially reluctant, then fiercely resigned showdown with the hostile force of
nature represented by the rogue tiger.Special features on the Blu-ray include several trailers for other
jungle movies and Wendell Corey pictures available from Kino Lorber, a
spirited audio commentary by David Del Valle and Dan Marino and reversible sleeve artwork.
Cinema Retro has received the following press release from Blue Underground:
On April 23rd, Blue Underground releases Goodbye
Uncle Tom, one of the most graphic and notorious films ever made, on
Limited Edition 4K UHD and Blu-Ray.
Originally released in 1971, Goodbye Uncle Tom is
an Italian mondo-docudrama based on true events about the rise and revolt of
slavery in America.
Directors Gualtiero Jacopetti and Franco
Prosperi (Mondo Cane) used period documentation and historical
accounts to recreate the antebellum south and the horrors of the slave
trade. The film was so shocking in its detailed look at the atrocities of
slavery that distributors in the US forced Jacopetti and Prosperi to cut it and
radically re-edit the film before release.
Even in its truncated form, Goodbye Uncle Tom created
a stir amongst critics. Roger Ebert called it, “… the most
disgusting, contemptuous insult to decency ever to masquerade as a
documentary.” while Pauline Kael said, “the most specific and rabid
incitement to race war," and The Detroit Chronicle hailed it as
"a graphic, moving, nerve-paralyzing film."
Goodbye Uncle Tom can
now be seen more than five decades after its initial release in both its
original uncut Italian version, alongside its drastically different English
version, both fully restored in 4K from their original camera negatives.
Includes a bonus Blu-ray disc with a wealth of supplemental features that give
context to the staggering and violent look back at this horrific chapter of
American history.
The 4K UHD and Blu-ray Extras special features include
feature-length documentaries; never-before-seen interviews with
writers/directors Gualtiero Jacopetti, Franco Prosperi, composer Riz Ortolani
and others; rare behind-the-scene footage; English and Italian trailers; still
galleries, including Giampaolo Lomi’s behind-the-scenes photos; a bonus CD of
the Original Motion Picture Soundtrack by Riz Ortolani; and a collectible
booklet.
Some credit director Piers Haggard with coining the term
‘Folk Horror’ during an interview to set his film The Blood on Satan’s Claw
(1971) apart from the more traditional horror offerings by the likes of Hammer
Films and Amicus. As the term has taken hold, such films have become more
closely aligned with a European arthouse style of filmmaking. The genre has
since been retrospectively assigned to many films including the aforementioned
film, alongside the other two points of the ‘Unholy Trinity’ of British Folk Horror;
Witchfinder General (1968) and The Wicker Man (1973). This is a
‘wyrd’ genre, where the films are often unsettling rather than outright
horrifying, although in the case of modern folk horrors such as Kill List (2011),
both things can be said to be true.
When director Ben Wheatley went into the woods to shoot In
the Earth (2021), not only was he returning to the tone and style of his
earlier films Kill List and A Field in England (2013), but he was
also with the title addressing the very essence of Folk Horror: as this new
book discusses in detail, Folk Horror is something with its roots in ancient
(pagan) times, something in the earth, just below the surface - perhaps in an
English field - that once disturbed seeps out, terrifying some, whilst bringing
others together with its community rituals and human sacrifice.
In this new collection of academic essays, the old and
new British examples of the genre are explored in detail from a range of
fascinating perspectives; studies of history, folklore and Britain’s
non-Christian past, the close-knit communities often at the heart of Folk
Horror films and their clashes with modernity, Celtic Folk Horror, the way in
which female filmmakers have subverted tropes and shifted generic conventions,
the recurring use of drums in pagan ceremonies and rituals, the evils of the British
landscape, social and political influences on the films across the decades, and
the relevance and influence of certain British writers such as Arthur Machen on
the genre. As well as the three films of the ‘Unholy Trinity’, each of which
gets a fair amount of analysis here, other films under discussion include Ken
Russell’s wildly entertaining The Lair of the White Worm (1988), based
on the Bram Stoker novel which itself is based on the north-eastern legend of
the Lampton Worm, The Company of Wolves (1984), Doomwatch (1972),
Cry of the Banshee (1970), Psychomania (1973), and many more
including several modern films which this writer was previously unfamiliar but
has to now seek out.
As with all academic collections, the caveat must be
added that the hardback price is because this edition is aimed at libraries,
and a more affordable paperback edition will be available in due course. This
is a worthwhile collection for anyone interested in this ‘wyrd’ sub-genre of
the British horror film, particularly now that Spring is here and soon ‘Summer
is icumen in’.
In
the aftermath of the surprise runaway success of Arthur Penn’s Bonnie and
Clyde – the Warner Bros. crime-drama garnering a fifty-million dollar
profit on a two million dollar investment by the close of 1967 – rival studio
United Artists wisely chose to give the director free-reign in choosing his
follow-up project. Ultimately, Penn
chose to give folksinger Arlo Guthrie’s already fabled talking-blues, the
“Alice’s Restaurant Massacree,” a big screen treatment. The timing seemed right.
Though
Penn’s new film would be far removed in temperament and style (and certainly
less violent) than his previous effort it was, in many respects, a prudent
choice. Such anti-establishment films as
Easy Rider, Medium Cool and Wild in the Streets had proven
critical and box successes in the years 1968-1969. Such free-spirited films brought in young,
enthusiastic audiences, the movie industry’s most important target demographic. But Penn was also aware that this recent
trend from literary to reality-based story-telling on film signaled an
important shift. He told the Los
Angeles Times that filmmakers were in increasingly “moving more and more
into direct relationship with the populace.”
Guthrie’s
meandering, sardonic epic – one seamlessly weaving an innocent’s view of
government inanities, the overreach of small-town policing, of “American Blind
Justice,” the travails of Selective Service draft board induction and of U.S.
foreign policy in Vietnam – was blistering clear-eyed and acutely withering in
its impossibly gentle, but mocking satire.
In
March of 1968 Guthrie’s manager, Harold Leventhal, was in process of inking the
film deal with Penn and UA. That very
same month Guthrie’s debut album, also titled Alice’s Restaurant, had
climbed to the no. 29 spot on the Billboard Top 100 album chart. Guthrie’s album had, improbably, been
charting steadily upward since it’s entry in the no. 180 position in November
of 1967. This was a particularly impressive
feat for an album whose signature song was eighteen minutes and twenty seconds
long. The song’s maddeningly memorable
and cyclical melody was supported only by the most basic backing
instrumentation: Guthrie’s acoustic guitar, a sparse standup bass and an impish
typewriter-cadence drum beat.
By
all measures, the commercial success of the “Alice’s Restaurant Massacree” was
implausible. Guthrie’s studio recording was understandably ignored on
ever-important AM radio – partly as no broadcast-length version was made
available to them.* But long before Guthrie would formally record his
shaggy-dog studio version of the “Massacree” in a professional setting in June
of 1967, the song was already well-known by those listening to such free-form
underground radio stations as New York City’s WBAI and Philadelphia’s
WMMR. The song had been pirated – in
several differing “live” versions and iterations – from reel-to-reel recordings
sourced from Guthrie’s appearances during late-night on-air radio show
appearances.
Thanks
to the underground circulation of those recordings, the “Massacree” was quickly
adopted as an anthem of the counter-culture, and by writers, artists and
anti-war activists. In time, Guthrie’s
talking-blues filtered up from underground radio to a more mainstream
audience. The song particularly appealed
to open-minded listeners, draft-age youngsters, journalists and
social-political pundits. They
immediately recognized that many of Guthrie’s satirical observations were acute
and perhaps too-closely reflected a society going amiss.
Upon
its release in September of 1969, Penn’s cinematic version of Alice’s
Restaurant wasn’t the box-office blockbuster that Bonnie and Clyde
was – but no one expected it to be. It
was a more personal low-budget film, but one that still did great
business. The film would bring in some
6.3 million dollars and sell just shy of 4.5 million paid admissions in the
domestic North American theatrical market alone. The film’s cast of professional actors were
supplemented by the townspeople of Stockbridge, Massachusetts, and by Guthrie’s
own friends working as extras on the edges. Penn estimated that ninety percent of the extras in the film were of the
community.
Penn’s
cinema vérité style dabbles are evident throughout. The film’s primary strength is in its
glimpses of the otherwise private involvements of the community congregating at
Alice and Ray Brock’s Old Trinity Church in Great Barrington. The film, on occasion, has a documentary feel
to it. This was Penn’s choice, his
personal way of doing things. “I work
very fluidly, with almost no preconceptions,” he told a visiting journalist on
set. Penn also shared that he did not
work from storyboards nor even visit locations prior to shooting. “I just sort of set up how life would be if
you were in that situation.” It could be
argued that the biggest issue with this approach was Penn’s viewing the
unfolding drama through a lens of presumption: the film’s reality and fictional
episodes are uneasily juxtaposed throughout.
Though
Arlo Guthrie holds mixed feelings about the resulting film (“I only made one
film,” he’d tell concert audiences over ensuing decades, “…’cause I saw
it.”), his memories of working with the creative team involved remain
warm. He thought Penn’s effort was an
“honest” one, his efforts allowing outsiders a small peek into the “scene”
built around the Old Trinity Church. But
Guthrie was also aware that the scene at Trinity circa 1965 – the time of
Guthrie’s Thanksgiving Day crime of littering - was a fluid one. Penn’s film could only provide a brief
snapshot of a time already passed since, in coming days, Guthrie reckoned,
“there’ll be a whole new scene up there, as everywhere else.”
Guthrie
was only twenty-years old when the film went into production - and had not
acted professionally in any capacity. Many on set in the summer of ’68 found the folksinger private and
distant, “elusive” in answers to both crew members and visiting
journalists. According to a long essay
in Playboy magazine, even old friends at the Trinity suggested that
Guthrie was “thought by some” to have already “left the family.” Certainly, his visits to the Trinity were
less frequent due to his new touring and recording commitments. On the brighter side, manager Leventhal was
impressed by his young client’s professionalism. He told the New York Times, “Here’s a
kid who likes to sleep until 3:30 in the afternoon who had to make a 7:30 A.M.
movie call every day for three months of shooting, and he did.”
In
November of 2023 the University of Oklahoma Press published a biography of the
folk-rock singer in which he and I collaborated: Rising Son: The Life and
Music of Arlo Guthrie. Cinema
Retro editor Lee Pfeiffer asked if Arlo might be willing to share some
memories of his experience working on the Alice’s Restaurant film with
Arthur Penn. Though it’s been nearly
fifty-six years since production on the film began in June of 1968, Guthrie
graciously offered to share some of his remembrances of that time with
readers:
Q:
My first question to you is a pretty general one. As a kid growing up in the 1950s and early
‘60s, how would describe your interest in cinema? Were you a big fan of the movies? If so, what sort of films were you attracted
to?
Arlo: I wasn’t so much into films as I was more into TV
shows. Obviously, films that came out when I was a little older - the mid to
late 60s - had a bigger impact on me. “Bonnie & Clyde” for example.
Q:
What were you favorite TV programs? I
understand you were a big fan of Star Trek –
and just missed out on being cast on an episode. What was the story behind that?
Arlo: I got a phone call from Leonard Nimoy one time, out
of the blue! I couldn’t believe I was chatting with Spock! But I have no memory
of being asked to participate with Star Trek. **
Q:
I have a news-cutting from Variety reporting from your overseas
promotional tour for the Alice’s Restaurant film. In this case, from Paris in May of 1970. At the press conference you suggested that following the release of the Alice
film in the U.S. you were suddenly “offered ten films about hippies but
would prefer to do a western.”
Arlo:We didn’t do any promotional tours
in the US, as they were un-needed. But when I was asked to do a promotional
tour of Europe I jumped on it. I wanted to go to Europe. I had offers for more
acting roles, but mostly on TV shows that were popular at the time. Hawaii 5-O,
etc. But in those days everyone who had long hair was cast as a drug-addled
thief or a murderer. So I kindly
declined those invitations.
Q:
In any case, you did accept a number of television acting assignments in the
1990s. Our readers might recall your
reoccurring role as the graying-hippie Alan Moon on ABC’s Byrds
of Paradise. My
personal favorite of your television work was your role as a 1960s
folk-singing, Weather Underground-style fugitive on the Lorenzo Lamas series Renegade. How did those opportunities come about?
Arlo: I don’t remember exactly. But my
booking agents, David Helfant and later Paul Smith, made those roles possible.
Those offers came through their offices. I wasn’t looking for acting jobs.
(Photo: Cinema Retro Archive)
Q:Since you are a musician first and foremost,I’d like to ask you a
few questions about the soundtrack accompanying the Alice’s Restaurant film. Prior to his work on Alice’s Restaurant, Gary Shermanwas the arranger and conductor for John
Barry’s soundtrack for Midnight Cowboy. On Alice’s Restaurant, Sherman is billed as “Musical Supervisor,”
credited as composer and arranger of the film’s “Additional music.” What exactly was Sherman’s contribution? Did
you work closely with him on the arrangements?
Arlo: Gary Sherman wasn’t very familiar with the kinds of
instruments I wanted to be used as a sound track. But he was very knowledgeable with regards as
to how music supported a film. We worked very closely together trying to
integrate our different skills.
Q:Fred Hellerman, the producer of your first two albums for Reprise - is
credited on screen as the film’s “Musical
Director.” What exactly was
Hellerman’s role in creating the soundtrack?
Arlo: Fred had some knowledge of the kinds of musical
instrumentation - and songs - I was into at the time. He may have worked with
Gary more than I was aware of, but I think the credit was more of an honorific
title.
Q:In Rising Son: The Life and Music of Arlo Guthrie, you recall your
enthusiasm of having partnered with John Pilla on the soundtrack sessions. Pilla, of course, would soon become the
“Spiritual Advisor,” producer and/or co-producer of all of your albums from Running
Down the Road (1969) through Someday (1986). What was it about this earlier collaboration
that made you so trusting of John as someone musically simpatico?
Arlo: John and I loved the traditional songs and
instruments that became the underlying sound track for the film. For example,
we made extensive use of the autoharp which had not been used before (or since)
in Hollywood movies.
Q:
Any particular fond (or perhaps not-so-fond) memories of working on the Alice’s Restaurant soundtrack sessions with
Pilla and Sherman?
Arlo: Arguing about music became the
hallmark of my collaboration with John Pilla. He was very traditional in his assessment of what was good while I was a
little too experimental. Gary was good at determining what worked. So between
us we arrived at a consensus.
Q:The Old Trinity Church is central to Arthur Penn’s imagining of the Alice’s Restaurant film. What role did Ray and Alice’s deconsecrated
church-home play in your life?
Arlo: I always felt very much at home at the church. Long
before we began working on the film, I had stayed there often. It wasn’t very
long after Thanksgiving 1965 that I was to spend more time traveling around and
less time at the church. Using the church as a central location was fabulous.
“YOU
AREN’T REALLY ANYBODY IN AMERICA IF YOU’RE NOT ON TV”
By
Raymond Benson
While
Nicole Kidman had been working in films since the late 1980s and starred in two
big movies with future husband Tom Cruise in the early 1990s, for this reviewer
it was 1995’s To Die For that proved to the world that Kidman could hold
her own and carry a movie alone. Even with an impressive body of work that
would continue to today, To Die For can easily be listed as one of the
actor’s best works.
To
Die For is
based on a 1992 novel by Joyce Maynard, which, in turn, was a fictionalized
improvisation on the true-crime murder-for-hire case of Pamela Smart. The
murder of Smart’s husband by teenagers who were, as it turned out, hired by
Smart herself, was sensational TV fodder in 1990-1991. The keywords of
“sensational” and “TV” become the thematic concepts of Buck Henry’s adaptation
of the novel that turns the tabloid tale into an acerbic dark comedy about the
lust for fame and the means by which some people might employ to get it.
Gus
Van Sant directs the film with a bravura collage of styles that molds the story
into something of a mockumentary. Actors address the camera as if they are in a
television reality program (something that was just beginning to take off in
those years). Videotape footage mixes with film stock, emphasizing the fine
line between Suzanne Stone’s reality and fantasy life on television.
Stone
(Kidman) is a drop-dead gorgeous young woman with big ambitions. She wants fame
and fortune by being a television personality, and once she sets out to
accomplish that goal, her little hometown in New Hampshire will never be the
same. First she seduces and marries Larry (Matt Dillon), the son of Italian
parents who may or may not have connections to the mob. Larry is in a
successful restaurant business, so he has enough money to keep Suzanne in
style. Next, she finagles her way into the local cable TV news station, run by Ed
(Wayne Knight). When she begins a personal video project at the local high school,
she attracts the attention of three juvenile delinquents—Lydia (Alison
Folland), who isn’t a bad person but is sadly trapped in a “white trash” world,
Russell (a young Casey Affleck), the true bad-news of the trio, and Jimmy (a
young Joaquin Phoenix), who is short on brains but long on libido. Suzanne, who
feels resistance from Larry regarding her dreams to leave town and head to Los
Angeles where she’s convinced she can make it big, decides to seduce poor Jimmy
and get him and his friends to bump off Larry. To reveal more, which indeed
differs from the true case of Pamela Smart, would spoil the “fun.”
Yes,
“fun” it is. This is a comedy, folks. Sure, it’s a pretty dark one, but the
team of Van Sant and Henry make sure that this sordid little fable is told with
tongue-in-cheek. It’s also somewhat of a cautionary tale, warning us that what
we see on television isn’t always the truth. Those beautiful people on the
screen who anchor the news, interview celebrities, or present the weather are
not gods and goddesses. It’s one thing to work toward a career in television
with determination… it’s another thing altogether to think of that career as a
Xanadu in which everyone is rich and famous.
Nicole
Kidman is superb in To Die For. She’s funny, sexy, and at times very
scary. Kidman plays this madwoman to the hilt and she’s the backbone of the
movie. Apparently the role was first offered to Meg Ryan, who turned it down.
Kidman, however, takes it and delivers an exhilarating star turn. Phoenix, in
one of his early appearances, also makes an impression. At the time, who knew
that he would one day be a multiple Oscar contender and ultimate winner? The
same is true of Affleck. Other notable actors in the movie include Illeana
Douglas as Larry’s sister, Dan Hedaya as Larry’s father, and Kurtwood Smith and
Holland Taylor as Suzanne’s parents. The film also sports a few interesting
cameos: Joyce Maynard, the novel’s author, appears as Suzanne’s lawyer; Buck
Henry is a high school teacher; George Segal is a lecherous network executive;
and David Cronenberg (!) is a hitman.
The
Criterion Collection’s 2-disk package presents the film in a new 4K digital
restoration, approved by Van Sant and director of photography Eric Alan Edwards.
It comes with a 5.1 surround DTS-HD Master Audio soundtrack (and it makes Danny
Elfman’s lively score sound really good!). The first disk is the picture
in 4K UHD with Dolby Vision HDR. The second disk is a Blu-ray and the special
features. Disappointingly, there isn’t much in the way of supplements. An audio
commentary featuring Van Sant, Edwards, and editor Curtiss Clayton is good
enough. The only other extras are some deleted scenes (some of which
tantalizingly depict how the film might have had alternate endings) and the
theatrical trailer. An essay by film critic Jessica Kiang accompanies the
booklet.
To
Die For is
for fans of Nicole Kidman, Joachin Phoenix, and the caustic mind of Buck Henry.
Kino Lorber has released a Blu-ray edition of The Internecine Project, a 1974 London-based thriller directed by Ken Hughes and starring James Coburn in a bravura performance as a charismatic villain. Coburn plays an internationally respected economics expert who finds himself being tapped to be an adviser to the President of the United States. However, he must first ensure that his sordid sideline of running a small London crime ring is swept under the rug. To do so, he devises a complex scheme to convince each member of his team to murder another. The film, written by Barry Levinson and Jonathan Lynn, bristles with tension and leads to a wonderful and satisfying conclusion. Aside from Coburn's outstanding performance, you can relish yeoman work from Lee Grant, Kennan Wynn, Harry Andrews and Ian Hendry- all set to Roy Budd's atmospheric score.
The Blu-ray is a welcome upgrade from the previous Scorpion DVD edition. It ports over the interview with Jonathan Lynn, who would go on to be best known for writing famous British comedy TV series. On most special editions produced by major studios, the interviews are chopped into brief soundbites. Refreshingly, this one allows Lynn to talk for almost 30 minutes- and he goes beyond discussing The Internecine Project to detailing working on Clue, which he wrote and directed.Unfortunately, this edition does not include the interview with Coburn's daughter that was featured on the DVD release. The Blu-ray does contain the original trailer along with trailers of other crime thrillers available from KL. Highly recommended.
Alfred Hitchcock has been a huge influence on my life, ever
since I saw my first Hitchcock film,I Confess, at the age of 10 years
old. I was immediately struck by the moral ambiguity of the film and the
conflicted viewpoint of the central character, a priest, played by Montgomery
Clift. Although I wasn’t aware of camera angles, film theory and mise-en-scene
at the time, I could sense a gripping plot, characterisations and camera
movement.
Since then, I’ve written four books on Hitchcock, the Master of
Suspense. Two books are on the making of specific films,The
BirdsandMarnie,
which were made in the early 1960s and have a close production history because
they had shared screenwriters and production crew; and a more general book
calledAlfred Hitchcock’s Movie Making Masterclass,
which is about all of his films, for aspiring screenwriters and film makers. My
latest book Alfred Hitchcock Storyboards, is as the name suggests, a
celebration of Hitchcock’s visual art and storyboarding in collaboration with
key production illustrators, storyboard artists and set designers.
When I was writing my first
Hitchcock book, “Hitchcock and the making of Marnie”, 25 years ago now, I was
excited to see the extensive storyboards for the racetrack and hunt sequence at
Margaret Herrick Library, part of the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and
Sciences in Los Angeles. I was immediately impressed about the level of detail.
I was lucky enough to interview the production designer Robert Boyle and
storyboard artist Harold Michelson who had a wealth of knowledge and memories
about working onThe BirdsandMarnieand I knew that was just the start. Because
this is my fourth book on Hitchcock, the Estate gave me permission to reproduce
them which is very exciting to share with readers today.
As Hitchcock directed 52 films in his career, I couldn’t include
every film or storyboard, so I decided to focus on a selection of films which
are representative of Hitchcock’s 60 year career. So I chose The 39 Steps, Shadow of a
Doubt, Spellbound, Vertigo, North by
Northwest, Psycho, The Birds, Marnie and Torn
Curtain. These films span Hitchcock’s early British period to one of his
last films he made at Universal Studios in Hollywood. Teaming up with Titan
Books who specialise in art and film books, I’m pleased to say that the coffee-table
book includes never-before-published images, especially from The 39 Steps,
Marnie and Torn Curtain. I was also able to feature some of the
art directors, production designers and illustrators who worked on these films,
including the more celebrated ones like Salvador Dali who Hitchcock hired for
designing the Spellbound dream sequence.
(Photo: Tony Lee Moral)
Through
storyboarding each scene, Hitchcock, likened the beats in a film to the notes
on a sheet of music being conducted by an orchestra. Hitchcock was a very
technical director and was keen to manipulate the audience’s emotions, the
highs and lows, and storyboards were central to his practice. Think about the
shower scene in Psycho, the crop duster attack in North by
Northwest and the crows gathering silently on the jungle gym in The
Birds, they are all examples of carefully orchestrated storyboards.
Studying
the storyboards definitely opened my eyes to films which I hadn’t focused on
before such as Shadow of a Doubt and Spellbound,
and what was apparent was the level of detail from both Hitchcock’s early films
and his move to Hollywood. In Shadow of a Doubt, storyboarding and
set design are very important to show a typical American family and the chaos
that erupts when a sinister force, in this case Uncle Charlie, comes to visit. Spellbound is
another film where the dream sequence was storyboarded and Hitchcock was very
interested in dream theory and analysis. There’s also a great behind the scenes
story I discovered about some lost and found Salvador Dali art for Spellbound.
But you’ll have to read the book for that story.
(A
previous 50th Anniversary edition of this film was released in 2018
by Kino Lorber and was reviewed on Cinema Retro in 2020. The film has
been re-issued on Blu-ray as a “Special Edition” in 2024. Much of the following
review is repeated, but updated, from the earlier piece.)
The
late director Norman Jewison, who passed away on January 20, 2024, was on a
roll in the late 1960s. After a handful of well-received small romantic
comedies, he directed The Cincinnati Kid (1965) featuring Steve McQueen as
a Depression-era poker player, followed by the Oscar Best Picture-nominated The
Russians are Coming, the Russians are Coming (1966), and then the brilliant
In the Heat of the Night (1967), which did win the Best Picture
Oscar and landed Jewison a Director nomination.
His
next project became a heist picture/romance, the story of which was pitched to
him by Alan R. Trustman, a lawyer with no screenwriting experience. Jewison was
intrigued, so, according to the excellent interview with the director that
appears as a supplement on Kino Lorber’s new Blu-ray edition of The Thomas
Crown Affair, he gave Trustman a crash course in how to write a movie
script. When it was completed, Jewison got the film green-lit.
When
Jewison’s agent—who also represented Steve McQueen—read the screenplay, he
suggested McQueen for the part. Even though the actor and director had gotten
along on Cincinnati Kid, Jewison admits that he didn’t think McQueen was
right for the role because the actor never wore suits. McQueen then met with
the director—wearing a suit—and convinced him that he could be Thomas Crown.
The
Thomas Crown Affair is
a stylish, twisty-turny, clever piece of 1968 pizazz. It emphasizes the
ultra-cool cosmopolitan and fancy lifestyle of the rich during the Mad Men era
when it was actually happening. The flashy camerawork and then-innovative
split-screen/multi-screen display of simultaneous action scenes was snappy and
unique. The brilliant main title designer, the late Pablo Ferro, is credited
for much of this work, and it is this visual technique that gives the movie its
pulse.
Crown
is a former banker in Boston, a happily wealthy playboy-sportsman who decides
to pull off a complicated bank heist simply because he can. He puts together a
team of individuals (including getaway driver Jack Weston) who don’t know each
other or him, and the gang meets only at the time of the robbery inside the
bank. Crown himself isn’t there. The heist is successful, and the mastermind
gets away with $2.6 million. Detective Malone (Paul Burke) is determined to
catch whoever was responsible, but the crime was too well thought out. No evidence
or clues were left behind. An insurance investigator, Vicki Anderson (Faye
Dunaway, in her first role post-Bonnie and Clyde), is brought in and she
immediately takes control of the operation, much to Malone’s chagrin. It
doesn’t take long for Crown to come under Vicki’s suspicions—so she sets out to
entrap him by, well, having an affair with him.
That’s
the plot in a nutshell. While much of it is seemingly improbable, the story is
told with conviction and such technical prowess that it’s hard not to go along
for the ride. Jewison’s handling of the heist itself and the romantic sequences
between the dual eye candy, McQueen and Dunaway, is masterful. Both actors are
fine in their roles; McQueen especially continues to exude the 60s cool that
was his trademark.
Kino
Lorber’s brand new 4K restoration looks quite good, and it comes with two audio
commentaries—one by Jewison himself, and the other by film historians Lem Dobbs
and the late Nick Redman. Supplements
include the previously mentioned interview with an aging Jewison, who was still
sharp and talkative, an interview with title designer and split-screen maestro
Ferro, and a vintage on-the-set featurette from 1967 with the cast and crew.
The original theatrical trailer, along with other Kino Lorber releases,
complete the disk.
The
Thomas Crown Affair was
remade by John McTiernan in 1999 with Pierce Brosnan and Rene Russo. Was it
better than the original? Maybe yes, maybe no. Only you can decide; but
consider this—the 1968 version has Steve McQueen, a young Faye Dunaway, a
variety of really hot and nifty sports cars, and an Oscar-winning title song,
“The Windmills of Your Mind” (remember that?)! Recommended.
Here's a fine documentary examining the life and career of Robert Mitchum from The Hollywood Collection.
"For nearly a century, Hollywood has captivated and influenced generation after generation of moviegoers. Its magic has left an indelible imprint on every culture with a movie projector. Originally broadcast on PBS, HBO/Cinemax, TNT, A&E, Lifetime, and Bravo, this is one of the most comprehensive collections of biographies and cinema retrospectives ever compiled, a spectacular treasury of 32 revealing biographies of Hollywood’s most beloved stars. These biographies, some narrated by the stars themselves, include interviews with friends, family members and colleagues, as well as clips from their most memorable films, and in some cases, rare home movies.
“Over 350 actors, writers, directors, producers, make-up people, publicists, agents, and family members all gave of themselves to help make these shows possible. This was the way it was in Hollywood in its classic era and these were the stars that captured us.” – Gene Feldman, producer/director of The Hollywood Collection."
(To watch in full screen mode, click on "Watch on YouTube".)
“Tales
of Adventure Collection 2,” a special edition, Blu-ray box set from
Australia’s Imprint Films, gathers five movies from the 1940s and ‘50s with
“wild and dangerous” jungle settings. To
the best of my memory, I don’t recall seeing any of them among the scores of
jungle pictures I enjoyed as a kid in the ‘50s and early ‘60s, either on the
big screen or on local TV morning movie matinees. Of the five diverse selections in the Imprint
box set, three are Republic Pictures productions, the fourth is a Paramount
release, and the fifth bears the Columbia Pictures logo. All five feature superior transfers (the
three Republic entries are transfers from 4K scans of the original negatives)
and captions for the deaf and hard of hearing, and four of them come with
excellent audio commentaries. Younger
viewers be aware, the films tend to reflect attitudes about race and
conservation that were commonplace seventy years ago, but frowned upon today;
you won’t see anything remotely like Black Panther’s democratic technocracy of
Wakanda here.
The
older two Republic releases, both in black-and-white and paired here on one
disc, underscore the studio’s reputation as a purveyor of lowbrow entertainment
with stingy production values. “Angel on
the Amazon” (1948) begins with Christine Ridgeway (Vera Hruba Ralston) trekking
through the Amazon jungle with safari hat and rifle, stalking panthers. It promises (or threatens, if you’re a
conservationist) to become a film about big-game hunting, where wild animals
exist to be turned into trophy heads. But
then Christine’s station wagon breaks down, and she radios for help. Pilot Jim Warburton (George Brent) flies in
with the needed carburetor part, just in time for the party to escape from
“headhunters.” This may be the only
jungle movie in history where rescue depends on a delivery from Auto Zone. Jim is enchanted by Christine, but she has
something to hide and refuses to warm up to his advances. Later, meeting Jim again in Rio de Janeiro,
she becomes frightened when an elderly, apparently harmless man watches her
from a distance. As film historian
Philippa Berry notes on the informative audio commentary for the Blu-ray, the
answer to the mystery revolves around the then-popular theme of physical
effects from psychological trauma, here given a mystical and somewhat absurd
twist. The studio-bound sets and back
projection that waft the characters from the Amazon to Rio and then to
Pasadena, California, are charmingly phoney. George Brent and two other fading co-stars from the 1930s, the
aristocratic Brian Aherne and Constance Bennett, stoutly maintain straight
faces in the backlot rain forest.
“Daughter
of the Jungle” (1949) is even more formulaic, as a young blonde woman raised in
the jungle comes to the aid of pilot Paul Cooper (James Cardwell), a policeman,
and two gangsters in the lawman’s custody when their plane crashes somewhere in
Africa. Called Ticoora by the local
tribe, she is actually Irene Walker, who was stranded with her millionaire
father in their own plane crash twelve years before. As film historian Gary Gerani notes in his
audio commentary track, Ticoora is one of a long line of virginal jungle sirens
in movies that range from the ridiculously sublime, like 1959’s “Green
Mansions,” to the sublimely ridiculous, like 1983’s “Sheena, Queen of the
Jungle.” She can summon elephants with a
Tarzan-like yodel that recalls Carol Burnett’s parodies on her old TV
show. As Ticoora leads the party to
safety, the oily head gangster, Kraik, schemes a way to claim her inheritance,
which awaits in New York. Some viewers
will see Kraik, played by the great Sheldon Leonard with a constant volley of
“dese, dose, and dem” insults, as the only reason to stay with the movie’s plod
through lions, gorillas, crocodiles, and indigenous Africans played by white
actors in greasepaint. Others (I plead
guilty) tend to view unassuming, ramshackle pictures like this one more
leniently, providing we can accept if not endorse their racial attitudes as a
product of their times. Consistent with
Republic’s nickel-and-diming on its B-feature releases, especially those made
in the late ‘40s, the more spectacular long shots of Ticoora swinging from
vines in her above-the-knee jungle skirt were recycled from one of the studio’s
earlier releases. In those scenes, it’s
actually Francis Gifford’s stunt doubles in the same outfit from the 1941
serial “Jungle Girl,” not Lois Hall who plays Ticoora in the new footage. Gary Gerani’s audio commentary provides lots
of information about the cast, including the two obscure leads, Lois Hall and
James Cardwell. Gerani points out that
the Blu-ray print, from the original negative, presents the movie’s full
80-minute version for the first time ever. The 69-minute theatrical release in 1949 omitted some B-roll filler and
some scenes where Paul woos Irene. More
action, less kissy, was crucial for encouraging positive playground
word-of-mouth from sixth graders in the audience—the pint-sized forerunners of
today’s Tik-Tok influencers.
The
third movie retrieved from Republic’s vaults, “Fair Wind to Java” (1953), was
one of the studio’s intermittent efforts to offer more expensive productions in
living Trucolor, with a rousing Victor Young musical score, to compete with
major postwar costume epics from the MGM and Paramount powerhouses. Ironically, Paramount now owns the rights to
Republic’s home video library. In 1883
Indonesia, New England sea captain Boll (Fred MacMurray) picks up the trail of
lost diamonds also sought by a pirate chief, Pulo Besar (Robert Douglas). Obstacles include the pirates, some scurvy
knaves in Boll’s own crew, Dutch colonial authorities, and the fact that the
only person who can direct Boll to the treasure is dancing girl Kim Kim (Vera
Hruba Ralston), who has only an imperfect memory of the route from her
childhood. Substitute Indiana Jones for
Captain Boll, and you’d hardly notice the switch. It turns out that the gems are hidden in a
temple on Fire Island—unfortunately for the captain, not the friendly enclave
of Fire Island, N.Y., but the volcanic peak of Krakatoa. Will Krakatoa blow up just as the rival
treasure hunters make landfall there? Are you kidding? The script doesn’t disappoint, and neither do the FX by
Republic’s in-house technical team, Howard and Theodore Lydecker. A former ice skating star who escaped
Czechoslovakia ahead of the Nazis, Ralston was the wife of Republic studio head
Herbert J. Yates and widely derided as a beneficiary of nepotism who couldn’t
act her way out of an audition. She was
still a punch line for comics in the 1960s, long after most people had
forgotten the point of the joke. In
reality, both here and in “Angel on the Amazon,” she is an appealing performer,
no more deserving of ridicule than other actresses of her time with careers
mainly in escapist pictures. The sultry
but vulnerable Kim Kim was the kind of role that Hedy Lamarr might have played
under other circumstances. Ralston’s
performance is at least as engaging, and she looks mighty nice in brunette
makeup and sarong.
If
you first met Fred MacMurray as the star of “My Three Sons,” as I did as a kid,
it may take some adjustment to see him in action-hero mode. It’’s no big deal when Dwayne Johnson or
Jason Statham slings a bandolier over his shoulder or has his shirt torn off in
a brawl with a pugnacious sailor . . . but Fred MacMurray? When Boll ponders whether or not to trust his
shifty first mate Flint (John Russell), it’s a little like MacMurray’s suburban
dad asking Uncle Charlie if he should trust Robbie and Chip with the family
car. John Wayne was originally
envisioned for the role, following his starring credit in a similar Republic
production, “Wake of the Red Witch,” but MacMurray wasn’t completely out of his
element, having played lawmen and gunslingers in several Westerns before his
sitcom days. Frankly, it’s fun to see
the normally buttoned-down actor shooting it out with the pirates and racing a
tsunami. Imprint includes another
excellent commentary, this one by historian Samm Deighan. As she notes, colourfully mounted and briskly
scripted movies like this were designed to attract the whole family in those
days before Hollywood marketing fractured along lines of audience gender, age,
and race. As she observes, Junior might
not recognise the sado-sexual elements of the scene where Pulo Besar’s burly
torturer (played by Buddy Baer!) strips Kim Kim and plies his whip across her
bare back. All in a day’s work in the
dungeon. But dad likely would have sat
up and paid close attention.
Only
a year later (1954), Paramount’s “Elephant Walk” furthered Hollywood’s trend of
filming exteriors for its more prestigious movies in actual overseas locations
rather than relying on studio mockups, as “Fair Wind to Java” did. Ruth Wiley (Elizabeth Taylor at her most
luminous) travels to Ceylon (now Sri Lanka) with her new husband John (Peter
Finch), the charming and prosperous owner of a tea plantation. Initially, Ruth is enraptured by the lush
countryside and John’s bungalow, Elephant Walk, actually a mansion almost as
large as Grand Central Station and a lot more lavish. But trouble portends as Ruth realizes that
the memory of John’s imperious father Tom, reverently called “the Governor” by
John and the other British residents, still pervades and controls the
household. The elderly head steward,
Appuhamy (Abraham Sofaer), is quietly hostile when Ruth questions the need to
continue running the house exactly as it was run in the Governor’s day. In trying to communicate with the other
indigenous servants and workers, she runs into the barriers of language and
culture. The estate itself, complete
with Old Tom’s mausoleum in the backyard, is built across an ancestral path the
native elephants still try to use as a short cut to their watering holes. Hence its name. Wiley keeps the peripatetic pachyderms out
with a wall. His plantation manager
(Dana Andrews) is more sympathetic to Ruth, and the two fall in love as the
increasingly surly John lapses back into old habits of drinking all night with
rowdy fellow expatriates who camp out in the sprawling mansion. Andrews’ character is named “Dick Carver,”
the kind of name you’re not likely to see on credits anymore outside
Pornhub. I wonder if some moviegoers in
1954 found it funny too?
If
the combination of shaky marriage, illicit affair, and luxurious colonial life on a jungle plantation sounds
familiar, you may be thinking of “Out of Africa” (1985) or the less
romanticised “White Mischief” (1987), the latest examples of this particular
jungle sub-genre of domestic drama in the tropics. As Gary Gerani points out in his audio
commentary, enthusiasts of melodrama will also cry “Rebecca!” in the subplot
about the shadow that “the Governor’s” pernicious, posthumous influence casts
over the married couple. The movie’s
lush Technicolor palate, William Dieterle’s sleek direction, the special FX of
an elephant stampede, Edith Head’s ensembles for Liz, and Franz Waxman’s
symphonic score have an old-fashioned Hollywood polish, shown to good effect on
the Blu-ray. But as Gerani notes, the
script by John Lee Mahin, based on a 1948 novel, offers an implicit political
commentary too. As viewers of “The
Crown” know, British rule was already crumbling in the Third World in the early
1950s and would soon fall, just like Wylie’s wall faces a renewed assault by
drought-stricken elephants in the final half hour of the movie. Thanks to the capable cast, glossy production
values, and a script that takes interesting, unexpected turns, I liked
“Elephant Walk” more than I thought I would.
Terence
Young’s “Safari” (1956) from Columbia Pictures begins with a jaunty title song
to a percussive beat that wouldn’t be out of place in “The Lion King”—“We’re on
safari, beat that drum, / We’re on safari to kingdom come”—leading you to think
that the picture will be a romp like “Call Me Bwana” (1963), “Clarence the
Cross-Eyed Lion” (1965), or the last gasp of jungle comedies so far, “George of
the Jungle” (1997). But the story takes
a grim turn almost immediately. An
American guide and hunter in Kenya, Ken Duffield (Victor Mature), is called
back from a safari to find his 10-year-old son murdered and his home burned by
Mau Mau terrorists. He determines to
find and kill the murderer, Jeroge (Earl Cameron), a formerly trusted servant
who, unknown to Duffield, had “taken the Mau Mau oath.” The British authorities revoke Duffield’s
license to keep him from interfering with their attempts to apprehend Jeroge
and the other culprits, but then they hand it back under pressure from Sir
Vincent Brampton (Roland Culver), who comes to Africa to kill a notorious lion
called “Hatari.” “You know what ‘Hatari’
means, don’t you?” Duffield asks. “It
means danger”—the very tagline used for Howard Hawks’ movie of the same name a
few years later. Coincidence? Brampton is a wealthy, borderline sociopathic
bully who makes life miserable for his finance Linda (Janet Leigh) and
assistant Brian (John Justin), and Duffield doesn’t much care for him
either. But the millionaire insists on
hiring Duffield as the best in the business, and the hunter uses the safari as
a pretext for pursuing Jeroge into the bush. The script juxtaposes Duffield’s chase after Jeroge with Brampton’s
determination to bag Hatari, but the millionaire is such an unpleasant
character (well played by Culver) that most of us will hope the lion wins.
This
was one of the last “big bwana” movies where no one thinks twice about killing
wild animals for sport, and viewers sensitive about the subject may not share
Sir Vincent’s enthusiasm for Ken Duffield’s talents, or the production’s
matter-of-fact scenes of animals collapsing from gunshots. The political material about the Mau Maus is
a little dicey too; the Mau Mau insurrection of 1952-60 was more complicated
than the script suggests. Poster art for
the movie, reproduced on the Blu-ray sleeve, depicts a fearsomely painted
African. Actually, it isn’t a Mau Mau
but a friendly Massai tribesman; Linda makes the same mistake in the movie
before learning that the Massai have agreed to help Duffield track Jeroge. Squirm-worthy dialogue occurs as well, when
Duffield and Brampton alike refer to the hunter’s African bearers and camp
personnel as “boys.” But Terence Young’s
brisk, muscular direction on outdoor locations in Kenya is exemplary, and the
CinemaScope vistas of Kenya in Technicolor are sumptuous. This was one of Young’s four projects behind
the camera for Irving Allen and Albert R. Broccoli’s Warwick Films, preceding
Broccoli’s later partnership with Harry Saltzman when the producers engaged
Young to direct the inaugural James Bond entries. For 007 fans, it may be heresy to suggest
that his work on “Safari” equals that on his best Bond picture, “From Russia
With Love,” but so be it. The Imprint
Blu-ray doesn’t contain an audio commentary or other special features, but the
hi-def transfer at the 2.55:1 widescreen aspect ratio is perfect.
“Tales
of Adventure Collection 2” contains the four region-free Blu-ray Discs in a sturdy
hardbox, illustrated with a collage from the poster art for the five movies in
the set. Limited to a special edition of
1,500 copies, it can be ordered HERE. (Note: prices are in Australian dollars. Use currency converter for non-Australian orders.)
Acclaimed films from Todd Haynes, Yorgos Lanthimos, Hou
Hsiao-Hsien, Christian Petzold, Lina Wertmuller, Ken Loach, Andrei Tarkovsky, Jafar
Panahi, Taika Waititi, Oscar Micheaux, Susan Sontag, Jean-Luc Godard, Bruno
Dumont, Jia Zhangke, Bernardo Bertolucci, Fritz Lang and more arrive on
streaming, some for the first time.
Kino Lorber’s recent acclaimed films Chile ‘76, Close
to Vermeer, and new 4K restorations of The Conformist and Millennium
Mambo arrive on streaming for the first time.
Kino Lorber, a leading name in independent film
distribution for over 45 years, has launched KINO FILM
COLLECTION, a new streaming service available in the U.S. on the
Amazon Service via Prime Video Channels for $5.99 per month. The Collection
will feature new Kino releases fresh from theaters, along with hundreds of
films from its expansive library of more than 4,000 titles, many now streaming
for the first time.
Films available at launch include award-winning theatrical
releases and critically acclaimed hits and classics from around the globe
including new 4K restorations of THE CONFORMIST (Bernardo Bertolucci) and key
works by notable directors such as DOGTOOTH (Yorgos Lanthimos), TAXI (Jafar
Panahi), POISON (Todd Haynes), GANJA & HESS (Bill Gunn), THE SCENT OF GREEN
PAPAYA (Tran Anh Hung), A GIRL WALKS HOME ALONE AT NIGHT (Ana Lily Amirpour),
COMPUTER CHESS (Andrew Bujalski), PORTRAIT OF JASON (Shirley Clarke), and A
TOUCH OF SIN (Jia Zhangke). Joining them are entries from the long-revered Kino
canon such as METROPOLIS (Fritz Lang), NOSFERATU (F.W. Murnau), THE CABINET OF
DR. CALIGARI (Robert Wiene), BATTLESHIP POTEMKIN (Sergei Eisenstein),
BIRTHRIGHT (Oscar Micheaux) and THE SACRIFICE (Andrei Tarkovsky), all presented
in the best versions available anywhere. Rounding out the collection are
popular and acclaimed documentaries like BOMBSHELL: THE HEDY LAMARR STORY
(Alexandra Dean), Academy Award®-nominated FIRE AT SEA (Gianfranco Rosi), GRACE
JONES: BLOODLIGHT AND BAMI (Sophie Fiennes), and BILL CUNNINGHAM NEW YORK
(Richard Press).
The Kino Film Collection will be updated monthly with
regular streaming premieres of acclaimed films directly from theaters including
CHILE ‘76 (Manuela Martelli), FRAMING AGNES (Chase Joynt), BRAINWASHED:
SEX-CAMERA-POWER (Nina Menkes), THE SUPER 8 YEARS (Annie Ernaux, David
Ernaux-Briot), COSTA BRAVA, LEBANON (Mounia Akl) and THE WORST ONES (Lise Akoka
and Romane Gueret), alongside curated treasures from the Kino library and cult
film selections from the Kino vault to satisfy genre fans.
December streaming premieres will include a new 4K
restoration of MILLENNIUM MAMBO (Hou Hsiao-Hsien), SONGS MY BROTHERS TAUGHT ME
(Chloe Zhao), CLOSE TO VERMEER (Suzanne Raes), FINAL CUT (Michel Hazanavicius),
BACURAU (Kleber Mendonça Filho, Juliano Dornelles), TOKYO POP (Fran Rubel
Kuzui), TWO SMALL BODIES (Beth B), and more.
Richard Lorber, President and CEO of Kino Lorber, said
"I'm excited about Kino Film Collection as a destination for our newest
films fresh from festivals and theaters, as well as newly launched restorations
of classics and curated selections from our vast library, many streaming for
the first time. Over the last 45 years, we've introduced electrifying new films
from directors at the vanguard around the world to American audiences, and
built a library and brand synonymous with cinematic innovation, distinguished
curation, and enduring quality. The Kino Film Collection will be the place to
go to find the classics of tomorrow and the best of cinema past."
Lisa Schwartz, Chief Revenue Officer for Kino Lorber, who
will oversee the service, said, “The creation of Kino Film Collection is the
latest example of our continued commitment to independent film and to ensuring
our incredible collection remains available for audiences nationwide. Many
streaming services are currently undergoing a shift in their content focus and
consequently many titles are becoming increasingly difficult to find.
Therefore, we felt it was a business imperative to create a dedicated home
where our films would be consistently available to film lovers. This
curated collection allows us to highlight our successful new theatrical
releases as well as repertory films and beautifully restored library classics.”
The
film noir movement/trend in Hollywood was fading away by the end of the
1950s decade. Orson Welles’ Touch of Evil (1958) is often cited by film
historians and film noir aficionados as the “last true film noir.”
However, one picture released in 1959 could very well take that honor,
for it indeed exhibits many of the traits of pure film noir (black and
white photography, gritty realism, cynical and edgy characters, a heist,
and an ending that is, well, not a happy one).
Odds
Against Tomorrow was set up by actor and musician Harry Belafonte and
was made by his production company. Is it the first film noir with a
Black protagonist? This reviewer can’t think of another that preceded
it. Basing it on a novel by William P. McGivern, Belafonte hired
blacklisted Abraham Polonsky to write the screenplay. Polonsky (who had
written the great Body and Soul, 1947) had been caught up in the HUAC
investigations in Hollywood, refused to testify in the hearings, and was
subsequently blacklisted along with many other writers, producers,
directors, and actors. Polonsky, working with co-writer Nelson Gidding,
wrote the script under a front-pseudonym, John O. Killens, a living
Black novelist. It wasn’t until 1996 that the Writers Guild restored
Polonsky’s real name to the credits.
Belafonte
apparently had wanted to make a movie that was not only a gripping heist
drama but also a statement about prejudice. Of the trio of robbers who
attempt a bank robbery in the film, one is Black (Belafonte), the other
two are White, and one of the latter is terribly racist… a factor that
plays into how the caper ultimately plays out.
New York
City. Dave Burke (Ed Begley) is a disgraced former cop who needs money.
Earl Slater (Robert Ryan) is an embittered, racist war veteran and
ex-con who needs money. Johnny Ingram (Belafonte) is a musician in debt
to a gangster because of a gambling addiction, so he needs money, too.
Slater lives with needy Lorry (Shelley Winters, in one of her whiny
roles) but he has the hots for apartment building neighbor Helen (Gloria
Grahame). Johnny is separated from his wife, Ruth (Kim Hamilton) and
daughter Edie, but he desperately wants to make good and reunite the
family. When Dave learns about an upstate smalltown bank with a
vulnerability, he enlists Earl and Johnny in a scheme to steal $150,000,
split three ways. Johnny doesn’t want to do it, but the pressure from
the mobster and threats to his family force him into it. Earl is not
happy that a Black man is part of the plan, and this tension is a major
conflict in the heist proceedings. To reveal more would spoil the
excitement.
Robert Wise, a filmmaker who seemed to be
able to make a great film out of any genre, is at the helm, and he does a
terrific job. He had worked with Ryan before in the film noir, The
Set-Up (1949). Wise, of course, won Oscars for directing The Sound of
Music (1965) and co-directing West Side Story (1961), but also made such
diverse classics as The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951), The Haunting
(1963), and Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979)!
This
is an intense, engaging picture that generates suspense and has
something to say. The script is top-notch, and the performances are
heightened just enough to fit firmly into the film noir style. The
music, composed by John Lewis and performed by the Modern Jazz Quartet,
is phenomenally good, adding another level to the tone and feel of the
movie.
Kino Lorber Studio Classics’ new Blu-ray
presentation is sharp and clean in glorious black and white. There is an
accompanying audio commentary by author/film historian Alan K. Rode.
Supplements include Post Screening Q&A interviews with Harry
Belafonte (in 2009) and Kim Hamilton (in 2007), plus the theatrical
trailer for this and other Kino Lorber film noir titles.
Odds
Against Tomorrow is for fans of film noir, heist movies, Robert Wise,
Harry Belafonte, Robert Ryan, and other members of the sparkling cast.
Highly recommended.
Here is a wonderful documentary about Walter Matthau from The Hollywood Collection:
"Walter Matthau was barely three when his father deserted the family.
Subscribe for more Hollywood biographies and stories! http://bit.ly/HollywoodCollectionSub
Poverty and New York street smarts produced a self-deprecating humor that never left. The G.I. Bill let him study acting and by 1951 he earned a New York Drama Critics Award. Television dramas followed and then came Hollywood. When director Billy Wilder cast him opposite Jack Lemmon, a classic partnership was created. In Lemmon, Matthau found an enduring friend and frequent co-star. Matthau’s real-life combination of cynicism and gruff sentimentality was reflected in the performances that brought him to major stardom.
Two-time Academy Award winner, Matthau’s fifty years of show business have earned him the love of millions and the admiration of fellow professionals. Clips used include: A Face in the Crowd, Charade, The Fortune Cookie, The Odd Couple, Cactus Flower, The Sunshine Boys, Hopscotch, Grumpy Old Men and I’m Not Rappaport. In addition to Walter Matthau himself, on-screen interviewees include actors Jack Lemmon, Julie Harris, Ozzie Davis and Roddy McDowell, directors Herbert Ross, Edward Dmytryk, writer Neil Simon and Walter’s son, director Charles Matthau."
(To watch in full screen mode, click on "Watch on YouTube".)
Founded by producers James H. Nicholson and Samuel Z. Arkoff,
American International Pictures (A.I.P.) hit upon a formula of financing
and releasing low-budget exploitation films for non-discriminating
audiences (translation: the youth market). Specializing in horror films
and goofy comedies, A.I.P. occasionally strayed into other genres. In
1963, the company capitalized on the always-popular WWII genre with the
release of "Operation Bikini". Ostensibly, the movie's title referred to
the obscure atoll in the Pacific where atomic bomb tests were conducted
during the Cold War era. However, in true A.I.P. style, the advertising
campaign was designed to imply that the title might also refer to the
fact that the bikini bathing suit was popularized here by a French
designer who conducted a photo shoot on the atoll just days after an
atomic blast. (Ignorant of the risks from radiation poison, he merrily
pronounced that "Like the bomb, the bikini is small and devastating!")
Still, the sexploitation angle in "Operation Bikini" was saved for late
in the film. What precedes its appearance is a fairly routine combat
flick made somewhat more interesting by the obvious attempts of the
filmmakers to disguise the movie's very limited budget.
Tab Hunter, one of the top heart throbs of the era, had by this point
seen his popularity in decline. He nonetheless received top billing
over charismatic crooner Frankie Avalon, whose career was ascending and
who would find great popularity as the star of several A.I.P. beach
movies over the next few years. Hunter plays Lt. Morgan Hayes, the
leader of a secret commando team that has been ordered to rendezvous
with a U.S. submarine that has been ordered to transport them on a
secret mission. The team is supposed to locate and destroy the wreckage
of an American sub that was recently sunk off the coast of Bikini by the
Japanese. Seems the wreckage contains a prototype of a top secret sonar
device that the Allies can't afford to fall into enemy hands. From
minute one, Hayes' small group of rough house land-lubbers rubs the
Captain of the submarine, Emmett Carey (Scott Brady) and his crew the
wrong way. Hayes's men resent being cooped up in a floating "tin can"
and the naval crew resents the presence of these brash soldiers who seem
to be perpetually eager to provoke a fight. Carey gives Hayes a
dressing down about keeping the tension levels low and the two men
ultimately gain mutual respect for one another. Upon arriving at Bikini,
Hayes and his men must sneak ashore and traverse the dense jungle in
search of the area where the sunken submarine is located. They are
guided by local partisans who conveniently include a stunning beauty
named Reiko, played by Eva Six, a recent winner of the "Miss Golden
Globes" honor. (I will refrain from making any tasteless jokes.) Reiko
takes a shine to Hayes and gets his mind temporarily off his troubles by
seducing him. When Hayes and his men finally arrive at their
destination, they are dismayed to see a virtual fleet of Japanese
vessels guarding the coast line where the sub is already being salvaged
by the enemy. Hayes realizes that they are now probably on a suicide
mission. Nevertheless, they persevere courageously, dodging and
sometimes engaging Japanese patrols before sending in Hayes and some
fellow scuba divers to attach time bombs to the hull of the sunken sub.
(The sequence is rather absurd because the team accomplishes this in the
dead of night despite not being able to employ any lighting equipment
whatsoever.) Detected by the Japanese, Hayes and his heroes take some
casualties in their desperate attempt to make it back to Capt. Carey's
submarine.
"Operation Bikini" is a "by the numbers" WWII yarn that isn't noticeably
better or worse than many of the other "B" movies of this genre that
were released in the 1960s. Director Anthony Carras, who edited some of
the better Poe adaptations for producer Roger Corman, employs grainy
stock footage of real combat sequences to get around his limited budget.
However, there are a couple of sequences that are unintentionally
amusing in which we find the crew of the submarine standing on deck,
supposedly in the middle of the ocean. The scenes are clearly filmed on a
sound stage because there is absolutely no movement of the vessel at
all. Apparently the budget didn't even allow for a few crew members to
gently "rock" the vessel. Additionally, the backdrop consists of either a
white or black wall with nary a hint of nature evident. Hunter looks
sullen and dreary throughout the entire proceedings, even when stripping
off his shirt for the love scene. The supporting cast includes some
offspring of Hollywood legends: Jody McCrea (son of Joel) and Gary
Crosby (son of "Der Bingle"). Michael Dante is the executive officer of
the sub and in a rather offbeat bit of casting, Jim Backus is seen in a
dramatic role as a member of the demolition team. Hunter's fellow teen
idol Frankie Avalon is cast in his usual role as wise-cracking street
guy. In the film's most bizarre sequences, he drools over a photo of the
prim and proper girl he left behind. while singing an awful love song
about trying not to be tempted by the "bad girls" he meets while on duty
away from home. Although the film is in black and white, these fantasy
sequences are shot in color. The "good girl" is shown lovingly waiting
for him while dressed like somebody's great grandmother and is presented
in B&W. Meanwhile, the leggy temptress is seen in full color,
attired in a slinky cocktail dress and gyrating her hips suggestively.
The virginal good girl gets the short end of the stick. These weird
sequences are an amusing example of how A.I.P. used an "everything but
the kitchen" sink formula to appeal to young audiences, regardless of
the lack of logic. The formula is employed in the film's equally bizarre
epilogue which extols the fact that the bikini bathing suit is closely
associated with Bikini. We observe a several minute sequence (also shot
in color) in which two young women lounge around the beach in skimpy
swim attire for no apparent reason than to stimulate the already raging
hormones of the movie's intended male teenage audience.
(The film is currently available for streaming through ScreenPix, which is available to Amazon Prime subscribers for an additional fee every month.)
CLICK HERE TO ORDER THE DVD FROM THE CINEMA RETRO MOVIE STORE
No one has ever clamored for a remake of director Howard Hawks' "Red River". The 1948 film is routinely considered to be one of the great American westerns, although Hawks was never completely satisfied with the end result. Between changes he made to the film and some changes imposed by the studio, the result was that film scholars are still debating which version should be considered as the final cut. However, the film's impact is indisputable. It afforded John Wayne the best role of his career up to that time and elevated up-and-coming Montgomery Clift to major stardom. I must admit that I was surprised to learn of a 1988 television remake of the film when I saw it is now streaming on ScreenPix, an optional subscription channel, which is available for a nominal monthly fee to Amazon Prime subscribers. It would take a big man to step into Duke Wayne's shoes but James Arness filled the bill. In fact, Wayne was a mentor to Arness and made several films with him before he convinced the young actor to accept CBS's offer to star as Marshall Matt Dillon in the TV series "Gunsmoke", an adaptation of the popular radio program. Arness plays Thomas Dunson, who was on a wagon train to Texas along his fiancee. Dunson and his sidekick Groot (Ray Walston in a role originally played by Walter Brennan), leave the wagon train to scout for appropriate land to settle on. While they are away, the wagon train is attacked by Indians. The begins with Dunson and Groot discovering that all of the pioneers have been killed except for a young boy, Matt Garth (Mickey Kuhn), who Dunson unofficially adopts as a son. The gesture proves to be mutually beneficial, as it helps both grief-stricken people cope with their losses. Ultimately, the headstrong Dunson finds the perfect land to claim for his own and it stretches as far as the eye can see. The film then jumps ahead a number of years. Dunson's spread, known as the Red River D, has been a major success and he is getting ready to move his enormous herd to Sedalia, Missouri to sell the steers for a considerable profit. He is heartened by the return of Matt (now played by Bruce Boxleitner), who has been away fighting with Southern forces in the Civil War. With Matt and Groot as his trusted right-hand men, Dunson assembles a major company of experienced drovers for the perilous journey that lies ahead.
As with Hawks' version of "Red River", the TV production chronicles the increased hardships the cattlemen endure and the slow breakdown in morale as food supplies become skimpy and the dangers increase from inclement weather and the threat of hostile Indians. Dunson rules the company with an iron fist and tells the men that he is financially broke, as he's put all of his money into the cattle drive. He reminds them that the only way they will get paid is if they get the herd to Sedalia, where it can be sold. Some cowhands encounter the drovers and say there is a rumor that the rail line has now reach Abilene, Kansas. If true, it will make for a lucrative market to sell the cattle in order to feed the booming population. It's also a shorter and safer journey for the drovers to make. However, Dunson will have not risk changing direction on the basis of an unfounded rumor. Ultimately, some men choose to leave the drive. However, when a couple of drovers also steal some precious food before absconding, Dunson has them hunted down and captured. Enraged, he tells them he will lynch them. When Matt can't convince him that he is going to far, a major rift occurs and Matt informs Dunson that he is taking control of the herd and gambling on taking the cattle to Abilene. Dunson refuses to go along and promises to hunt Matt down and personally kill him, despite the fact that Matt intends to turn any proceeds over to his adoptive father.
The story continues to follow events in the film, albeit in truncated fashion since the film runs 96 minutes compared to the 133 minutes of the original version. Matt and flashy gunslinger Cherry Valance (Gregory Harrison) encounter a wagon train besieged by Indians. They ultimately rescue the survivors which include Kate Millay (Laura Johnson), a Civil War widow with a young son. Both Matt and Cherry are smitten by her, which introduces an element of sexual tension as both men become antagonistic towards each other in increasingly dangerous ways. Ultimately, Matt gets the herd to Abilene and finds that the rumors were true. The town is booming and anxious to buy the herd for top dollar. Matt's joy is short-lived, however, as Dunson arrives with his personal posse of hired gunmen- and he's intent on keeping his vow to kill Matt.
There is nothing in the TV version of "Red River" that improves on Hawks's original in any meaningful way. However, it does offer some fine performances. It's interesting to see Arness, who gives a commanding performance, finally play a character whose judgment is flawed and whose actions border on the reckless. He has good chemistry with Bruce Boxleitner, possibly because the two were old friends who had co-starred in Arness's post-"Gunsmoke" TV series "How the West Was Won". Gregory Harrison has a meatier role as Cherry Valance than John Ireland did in the original version, possibly because Harrison was an executive producer on this production. He provides ample doses of both charm and reckless behavior. There are plenty of familiar Western stars who make brief appearances including Ty Hardin, Robert Horton, L.Q. Jones and Guy Madison, in his final screen appearance. The script has been updated with some new characters added, most notably Stan Shaw, very good as Jack Byrd, an ex-slave who must endure bigotry before winning the respect of the drovers with his skills. The film is crisply directed by Richard Michaels, who keeps the balance between action and personal dramas well-balanced.
I viewed the film with the expectation that it would be simply a pale imitation of the 1948 classic. However, while the original reigns supreme, I'm happy to say that if the TV version is viewed as a stand-alone production, it's actually surprisingly good.
I can find no record of this film having been released on home video aside from an early VHS version, so the Screenpix option is the best way to view it.
as an Iconic Warrior King and a Suspenseful WWII Epic with Peter O’Toole
On January 30th, Conan The Barbarian,the award-winning epic starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, arrives on 4K UHD and Blu-ray for the first time. John Milius directs Academy Award-winning writer Oliver Stone’s
adaptation of the pulp novels by Robert E. Howard to the big screen. A
global phenomenon ruling the box office upon its initial release in
1982, the fantasy forged Schwarzenegger’s status as a true cinematic
icon. Schwarzenegger stars as Conan – enslaved as a young boy after cult leader Thulsa Doom (James Earl Jones)
murders his parents. Conan pushes himself from slave to gladiator to
freed warrior in search of Thulsa Doom to exact his vengeance. Along the
way Conan learns of love, friendship, wisdom, and loyalty. The film
features electrifying star performances by Schwarzenegger and Jones, and
an impressive supporting cast, including Max von Sydow, Sandahl Bergman, Gerry Lopez, and Mako.
The
Limited Edition 4K UHD comes in a 2-Disc set, loaded with extras,
including new interviews with cast and crew, rarely seen footage and
archival materials. The Blu-ray and 4K UHD Limited Edition sets each
include a double-sided fold-out poster, six double-sided collectors’
postcards, an illustrated collectors’ booklet featuring new writing by
Walter Chaw and John Walsh, and an archive set report by Paul M. Sammon.
Also on the same day, Conan The Destroyer makes its debut on 4K UHD and Blu-ray. The sequel to the wildly successful Conan The Barbarian, Arnold Schwarzenegger returns as Robert E. Howard’s sword-wielding anti-hero. Conan is offered the opportunity to take a young princess (Olivia D’Abo)
on a quest to retrieve the jeweled horn of the dreaming god Dagoth. In
return, the love of his life Valeria will be brought back to life,
though Conan and his fellowship get more than they bargained for as
Dagoth may not be the benevolent demi-god they expected. Directed by Richard Fleischer, Conan The Destroyer features an international cast that includes supermodel/icon Grace Jones, Olivia D'Abo, NBA Hall of Famer Wilt Chamberlain, Tracey Walter, and Sarah Douglas.
The
Blu-ray and 4K UHD Limited Edition sets include a double-sided fold-out
poster, six double-sided collectors’ postcards, an illustrated
collectors’ booklet featuring new writing by Walter Chaw and John Walsh,
and an archive set report by Paul M. Sammon.Bonus
features include a brand new 4K restoration from the original negative,
4K Ultra HD Blu-ray (2160p) presentation in Dolby Vision (HDR10
compatible), newly restored original mono audio and remixed Dolby Atmos
surround audio, archive feature commentary by director Richard
Fleischer, actors Olivia d’Abo, Tracey Walter and Sarah Douglas, newly
filmed interviews and commentary with cast and crew, theatrical
trailers, and an image gallery.
The month ends with a bang in Murphy’s War, coming to Blu-ray on January 30. Peter O’Toole
stars as Murphy, the sole survivor of a German U-boat attack off the
coast of Venezuela at the end of WWII. Nursed back to health by a Quaker
nurse (Siân Phillips),
Murphy has one goal: to destroy the U-boat that killed his mates.
Nothing will stop Murphy from exacting vengeance. Featured co-stars of
O’Toole include Philippe Noiret (La Grande Bouffe, Cinema Paradiso), and Horst Janson (Captain Kronos – Vampire Hunter, Shout at the Devil),. The film is directed by Peter Yates (Bullitt) and beautifully shot by Indiana Jones cinematographer Douglas Slocombe, with a propulsive score from John Barry.Special features across the release include Running Out of War, a new visual essay by film critic David Cairns, A Great Adventure, an archive interview with assistant director John Glen, Dougie, Chic and Me, an archive interview with focus puller Robin Vidgeon, One Man Army,
an archive interview with film critic Sheldon Hall, the theatrical
trailer, an image gallery, a reversible sleeve featuring original and
newly commissioned artwork by Peter Strain, and an illustrated
collector’s booklet featuring new writing by film critic Philip Kemp.
Due to the financial success of the highly
enjoyable 1985 martial arts/actioner American
Ninja, a sequel was quickly put into production which would feature the
return of stars Michael Dudikoff and Steve James as well as director Sam
Firstenberg.
Written by James Booth and Gary Conway (from
a story by Conway), American Ninja 2: The
Confrontation finds our heroes—US Army Rangers Sergeant Joe Armstrong
(Dudikoff) and Sergeant Curtis Jackson (James)—travelling to the Caribbean in
order to search for a group of Marines that have gone missing. Once there, they
find that an evil drug lord known as the Lion (Gary Conway) has been
brainwashing and genetically enhancing soldiers, transforming them into
superhuman Ninja killers. Are the Ninjitsu skills of Armstrong and Jackson
enough to stop the Lion from turning the missing Marines into deadly Super
Ninjas?
Filmed in South Africa and released by Cannon
Films on May 1, 1987, American Ninja 2:
The Confrontation, while not as solid or as successful as its predecessor,
is still a very fun, 80s adventure. It’s no surprise that veteran action
director Firstenberg expertly handles the film’s many exciting action sequences,
and the cast, led by the talented Dudikoff and James, is a joy to watch. The
film clocks in at a brief 90 minutes and features familiar faces such as
Conway, Jeff Weston and karate champion Mike Stone; not to mention legendary
actor/stuntman Kane Hodder (Jason from the Friday
the 13thfranchise) in a brief role as a thug. If, like me,
you’re a fan of super fun 80s action flicks, Dudikoff, James, or all three, you’ll
find plenty to enjoy here.
American Ninja 2: The
Confrontation has
been released on a region one Blu-ray by Kino Lorber and is presented in its
original 1.85:1 aspect ratio. As with the KLedition of the 1985 film, the
sequel looks and sounds fantastic. The special features include two informative
audio commentaries: one by director Firstenberg (moderated by filmmaker/editor
Elijah Drenner) and another by Firstenberg and Stunt Coordinator BJ Davis.
There is also the featurette: An American
Ninja in Cape Town: The Making of American Ninja 2 as well as the original theatrical
trailer. The Blu-ray also comes with an eye-catching slipcover.
The
British production, The Edge of the World, was acclaimed director
Michael Powell’s first important feature film. Released in 1937, it was
well-received in the U.K. and it also made something of a splash in the USA
among the more discerning critics and audiences who appreciated non-Hollywood
fare.
Powell
had been working in cinema in various capacities since the silent days as a
still photographer, scriptwriter, and director of short films. Through most of
the 1930s, he helmed over twenty pictures that had diverse levels of success, but
it wasn’t until 1936-37 that he had the chance to make a truly personal film. This
was the “big bang” breakthrough in his movie career.
The
Edge of the World is
based on a newspaper article Powell had read that documented how a remote
island, St. Kilda in the Scottish Outer Hebrides, was losing its population due
to the land’s inability to support the people, and because younger generations were
fleeing to Scotland and England for better opportunities. Powell wrote an
original script involving two families on such an island and how dramatic circumstances
change their lives.
Unable
to film on St. Kilda, Powell chose the northern island of Foula in the Shetland
Islands group. It was suitably similar in both the landscape and the people’s geo-political
issues. With a handful of known actors and by casting many characters from the
locals, Powell and cinematographers Monty Berman, Skeets Kelly, Ernest Palmer,
and Powell himself, captured (even in black and white) the beauty and awesome
grandeur of the cliffs-dominated island.
Two
dominant families on the fictional island of Hirta, the Mansons and the Grays, are
united by an upcoming marriage between Andrew Gray (Niall MacGinnis) and Ruth
Manson (Belle Chrystall). Ruth’s brother, Robbie (Eric Berry) is Andrew’s best
friend. Conflict arises when Robbie announces that he’s leaving the island to
go “see the world” because there’s nothing left on Hirta for him. Losing
someone like Robbie hurts the economy because there aren’t that many strapping
young men to do the fishing and crofting. Andrew attempts to convince Robbie to
stay, but Robbie will have none of it. Andrew’s father (Finlay Currie) is
somewhat sympathetic to Robbie and believes that the islanders’ way of life is
indeed diminishing and that they should all evacuate for the good of their
children’s children. Robbie’s father (John Laurie) disagrees and is determined
to stay, despite his son’s wishes. Andrew and Robbie challenge each other to an
age-old tradition of racing up one of the cliffs to determine if Robbie should
stay or not. The results of the contest are tragic… and this deeply affects the
futures of the two families and the rest of the story.
Michael
Powell appears at the beginning of the film as a yachtsman escorting Andrew
Gray back to the island for reminiscing (the rest of the movie is a flashback).
Short
and tight (at 75 minutes), The Edge of the World is a slice of life to
which few of us today can relate, but it is a well-made, touching depiction of
the story that Powell wanted to tell. Perhaps more important than the movie
itself is the fact that the picture’s reception enabled Powell to go on to
bigger and better projects, such as Thief of Bagdad (1940) and the
eventual brilliant partnership with co-director Emeric Pressburger.
In
fact, the making of The Edge of the World meant so much to Powell that
he returned to Foula in 1978 with a camera crew and some of the surviving
actors to make a short documentary, Return to the Edge of the World.
This half hour program is in full color and is a warm reunion between the
filmmakers and the people who still reside on the island.
Milestone
Film and Video presents a beautifully restored high definition of the feature
film (distributed by Kino Lorber) with an audio commentary by Powell’s widow,
Oscar-winning editor Thelma Schoonmaker, film historian Ian Christie, and
Oscar-winning actor Daniel Day-Lewis reading from Powell’s book on the making
of the film (200,000 Feet on Foula).
Supplements
include alternate scenes; the original trailer; the documentary Return to
the Edge of the World; Powell’s short 1941 film, An Airman’s Letter to
His Mother; and Powell’s home movies shot on Foula, narrated by
Schoonmaker.
The
Edge of the World is
recommended for fans of Michael Powell, Scotland history, and early British
cinema.
Celebrating
its 40th anniversary in 2024, the beloved classic FOOTLOOSE
arrives for the first time ever on 4K Ultra HD™ February 13, 2024
from Paramount Home Entertainment.
Originally
released on February 17, 1984, FOOTLOOSE thrilled audiences with
its spirited dancing, electrifying soundtrack, and inspiring story. Kevin
Bacon gives a star-making performance as a city boy whose rebellious love for
music and dancing shakes up a small town.
Directed
by Herbert Ross and written by composer and writer Dean Pitchford, FOOTLOOSE
was a massive success, earning $80 million at the domestic box office.
The film features an exceptional supporting cast, including Lori Singer, Dianne
Wiest, John Lithgow, Sarah Jessica Parker, and Chris Penn, along with a
sensational soundtrack featuring Kenny Loggins, Shalamar, Deniece Williams,
Bonnie Tyler, Quiet Riot, John Mellencamp, Foreigner, and more. Both
“Footloose” and “Let’s Hear It for the Boy” were nominated for the Academy
Award® for Best Music, Original Song.
Newly
remastered, FOOTLOOSE will be available in a two-disc 4K Ultra
HD/Blu-ray™ set or a collectible SteelBook™ with artwork designed to
look like an 80s Walkman. Both sets include access to a digital copy of
the film and the Blu-ray includes the legacy bonus content detailed below:
·Commentary
by Craig Zadan and Dean Pitchford
·Commentary
by Kevin Bacon
·Let's
Dance! Kevin Bacon on Footloose
·From
Bomont to the Big Apple: An Interview with Sarah Jessica Parker
·Remembering
Willard
·Kevin
Bacon's Screen Test
·Kevin
Bacon Costume Montage
·Footloose:
A Modern Musical - Part 1
·Footloose:
A Modern Musical - Part 2
·Footloose:
Songs That Tell A Story
·Theatrical
Trailer
Synopsis
City-boy
Ren McCormick (Kevin Bacon) is new to an uptight small town where dancing has
been banned. Ren quickly makes a new best friend in Willard (Chris Penn) and
falls fast for the minister's daughter (Lori Singer), but his love for music
and dancing gets him into hot water equally as fast.??
Humphry
Bogart and Eleanor Parker feature in the aviation romance drama, “Chain
Lightning,” available on Blu-ray via the Warner Archive Collection. Bogart is hot-shot
test pilot Matt Brennan flying for an aircraft manufacturer contracted to
produce a supersonic jet for the newly formed United States Air Force. The
movie soon flashes back to 1943 in WWII England where we see the origins of the
relationship between Bogart and Parker. Parker is Joan “Jo” Holloway, an
American Red Cross nurse stationed in England where Lieutenant Colonel Matt Brennan
is an experienced B-17 pilot. Richard Whorf is Carl Troxell, an engineer working
for a B-17 aircraft manufacturer sent to research the reason for aircraft
failures. Matt tells Carl exactly the issue which is obvious to those flying
the bombing missions, the air war and the lack of long-range air cover support.
While on a mission, they encounter a German Messerschmitt Me 163 Komet, a
rocket powered interceptor that moves faster than anything in the allied
arsenal.
Matt
gets word he’s being rotated stateside to sell war bonds after surviving so many
bombing missions over Europe. He’s faced with a complicated choice because he
has to leave Jo in England. We hope he fulfills his promise to her, but this is
Bogart and I think we know what will happen. We meet up with Matt again after
the war working as a pilot trainer until he has a chance meeting with Leland
Willis, the head of Willis Aviation, that leads to a job as test pilot working
on developing jets for the Defense Department. Willis is played by Raymond
Massey as the semi-villain of the film. Carl is working for Willis and is also
now involved with Jo. The Matt, Jo, Carl love triangle is resolved, but tension
arrives in the rivalry between Matt and Carl as they each work on projects to
create a safe, fast jet.
Bogart
is good playing Bogart and this role is no exception. He does have genuine
chemistry with Eleanor Parker playing the girl who never fell out of love with him.
While this is by no means a Bogart classic, it is certainly a small gem in his
film career. Massey is good as the businessman who is willing to risk lives in
order to succeed and Whorf is a bit too predictable as the third part of the
love triangle and works hard to be the opposite of Bogart.
The
movie is chockfull of WWII aviation footage which is integrated well into the
story,including the crash landing in the early part of the movie. There is also
pretty good model work later as we see Bogart piloting the jets and he’s seen
at the controls in a studio cockpit and models used for the new jet attempting
to break a cross- continent flight record.
The
film was directed by Stuart Heisler, who had a career working on mostly B-movie
dramas and thrillers, though he had a few stand-outs like “The Biscuit Eater”
in 1940, “The Glass Key” in 1942, “Storm Warning” in 1950 and “Tokyo Joe” from
1949, the first of two movies with Bogart. Bogart’s filmography is filled with
classics, duds and those in between like “Chain Lightning.” Eleanor Parker
appeared in many movies, sometimes as the lead, throughout the 50s and early
60s. Raymond Massey was great at playing heavies and semi-villainous roles with
occasional heroic figures such as Abraham Lincoln. Richard Whorf is a bit of an
enigma for me, featuring in mostly B-movies and never quite reaching leading
man status.
Released in 1950 with
a flight time of 95 minutes, the movie looks and sounds terrific on this
region-free Blu-ray upgrade from the previous DVD release. Extras on the disc include the
animated “Bear Feat,” the Joe McDoakes comedy short film “So You Want to Be an
Actor” and the trailer for the film. The movie is recommended for Bogart fans
and aviation movie enthusiasts.
The late, great Rutger Hauer was an amazingly
talented actor. Named the Best Dutch Actor of the Century by the Dutch public,
the Saturn Award nominated thespian had an extremely entertaining career where
he memorably played both heroes and villains in classic films such as Nighthawks, The Hitcher, Blade Runner,
Ladyhawke, Wanted: Dead or Alive, and Buffy
the Vampire Slayer. Just to name a few. Recently, Hauer’s wonderful turn as
Nick Parker in 1990’s action-packed film Blind
Fury was released to Blu-ray.
Written by Charles Robert Carner and directed
by Phillip Noyce, Blind Fury deals
with Nick Parker (Hauer), a soldier who was blinded in Vietnam, but developed
his remaining senses and, through intense training, becoming an expert with a
samurai sword before returning to the States. When Parker’s best friend and
fellow soldier, Frank Deveraux (Terry O’Quinn), is kidnapped by ruthless
criminals, Parker decides to take Frank’s young son, Billy, (Brandon Call) to
Nevada in order to find and rescue his dad. However, the deadly thugs want
Billy so that they can use him to convince Frank to make their illegal drugs.
With the help of Frank’s girlfriend, Annie (Lisa Blount), Nick does everything
he can to protect young Billy from the homicidal hoods and save Frank before
it’s too late.
Filmed around the Midwestern United States
and released by Tri-Star Pictures in March of 1990, Blind Fury, which was produced by Daniel Grodnick and actor/director
Tim Matheson, is a highly enjoyable action adventure/martial arts film with
well-drawn characters and just the right amount of comic relief and heart.
Based on the Japanese character Zatoichi—a blind swordsman who was created by
Kan Shimozawa in 1948 and appeared in 26 films—Blind Fury is basically a loving remake of the seventeenth Zatoichi
film Zatoichi Challenged (1967).
Clocking in at a brief 86 minutes, Blind Fury moves along pretty quickly
and not only features excellent direction by Phillip Noyce, but also a
well-known, veteran cast who do a terrific job. Naturally, Rutger Hauer is
excellent in the role of Nick Parker. Trained by blind judo champion and
Paralympic silver medal winner Lynn Manning, Hauer has said that playing a
blind swordsman was one of the most difficult jobs he’s ever had to do.
Besides the super talented Call, O’Quinn and
Blount, the exciting film also features wonderful performances from Noble
Willingham, Nick Cassavetes, former pro boxer Randall “Tex” Cobb, comedian Rick
Overton, the immortal Sho Kosugi, the lovely Meg Foster, former professional
wrestler Tiger Chung Lee and former pro football player Jay Pennison.
Blind Fury has been released on
a region one, two and three Blu-ray, and is presented in its original 1.85:1
aspect ratio. The entertaining film looks excellent and sounds just as great.
Special features include a very informative audio commentary by screenwriter
Charles Robert Carner (moderated by filmmaker Douglas Hosdale)as well as the original theatrical
trailer. The Blu-ray also comes with a slipcover which contains some
fun-looking artwork of Nick Parker in action. If you’re a fan of old school
action/martial arts cinema; Rutger Hauer; samurai films or all of the above,
then definitely check this one out.
The 1980s were chock full of amazing action
franchises and action stars. The stars were legendary: Charles Bronson, Clint
Eastwood, Sylvester Stallone, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Chuck Norris, Mel Gibson,
Danny Glover, etc. The franchises were just as legendary: Death Wish, Dirty Harry, Rambo, Terminator, Missing in Action, Lethal Weapon, etc. Not to mention the
beloved James Bond series which produced five blockbuster movies throughout the
80s, three starring Roger Moore and two starring Timothy Dalton. Then, there
were the great one-shot action films of which there are way too many to list
here. Of course, martial arts/action; especially those featuring ninjas, were
just as popular with cinemagoers. Yes, it was an exciting decade.
In 1985, Cannon Films, led by immortal
producers Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus, decided to start a new action movie/martial
arts franchise titled American Ninja.
Cannon, who were responsible for the popular
Missing in Action and Death Wish
series of films as well as several well-loved ninja movies which starred the
fantastic Sho Kosugi and partly started the ninja craze, wanted Chuck Norris to
play the lead role of Private Joe Armstrong. However, Norris declined. Cannon
then went on a worldwide search and, after auditioning over 400 candidates, they
chose up and coming actor Michael Dudikoff. The well-made movie would go on to
spawn four sequels, two of which (parts 2 and 4) would see Dudikoff return as
the silent, but deadly Armstrong. Thanks to our friends at Kino Lorber, the
original film has now been released on Blu-ray.
Written by Paul De Mielche (from a story by
Gideon Amir and Avi Kleinberger) and directed by action veteran Sam
Firstenberg, American Ninja tells the
story of Joe Armstrong (Dudikoff), a US Army private who uses his Ninjitsu
skills when a supply convoy is ambushed by rebels led by a Black Ninja Warrior
(Tadashi Yamashita). Now marked for revenge by the Black Star Ninjas, Joe, with
the help of his friend, Corporal Curtis Jackson (played by the late, great
Steve James), must do everything in his power to rescue the kidnapped Patricia
Hickock (Judie Aronson)—daughter of Joe’s commanding officer—and take down the
Black Star Ninjas for good.
Made for one million dollars, American Ninja (aka American Warrior and American
Fighter) is a solid and entertaining 80s action film with an engrossing
enough story, a terrific cast, and exciting action sequences which are more
than competently handled by director Firstenberg (who already had some Ninja
experience directing the Sho Kosugi martial arts/action classics Return of the Ninja and Ninja III: The Domination for Cannon).
The fun, 95-minute movie also features John Fujioka, Don Stewart and Richard
Norton.
Trained by 10th degree black belt
and martial arts champion Mike Stone, American
Ninja instantly made Michael Dudikoff an action movie star. Over the next
two decades, Dudikoff would appear in a plethora of action films. He would also
reunite with Steve James two more times in American
Ninja 2: The Confrontation and Avenging
Force; both directed by Firstenberg. James, who I believe would have become
a major action star if not for his untimely death, went on to reprise his role
as Curtis Jackson a third time in American
Ninja 3: Blood Hunt.
American Ninja has been released on
a region one Blu-ray. It is presented in its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio and
the film looks and sounds incredible. The special features include an
informative audio commentary by director Sam Firstenberg (moderated by
filmmaker/editor Elijah Drenner) as well as a second commentary with
Firstenberg and Stunt Coordinator Steven Lambert. We are also treated to Rumble in the Jungle: The Making of
American Ninja, the original theatrical trailer and TV spot, and a very
cool-looking slipcover. This is pure 80s goodness. Don’t miss it.
The
film classic that put director Bernardo Bertolucci on the map outside of Italy
was 1970’s The Conformist, hailed by the arthouse cinema circuit as one
of the masterpieces of international filmmaking in that decade.
An
Italian-French-West German co-production, The Conformist was filmed in
Italy and France and stars celebrated French actor Jean-Louis Trintignant, who
made several pictures in Italy along with the many in his native country.
Although Trintignant could speak Italian, he was almost always dubbed by an
Italian actor in these pictures; in fact, all Italian movies of the era were
usually dubbed in post-production. Luckily, the dubbing here is quite good
because at least Trintignant is mouthing the correct Italian language dialogue.
This
is a gorgeous-looking movie, often cited as a groundbreaker in cinematography.
Vittorio Storaro made his name with the picture, just as Bertolucci did.
Francis Ford Coppola allegedly used The Conformist as the “look” he was
going for when he made The Godfather. Storaro is one of only three
people who have won the Best Cinematography Oscar three times (he won for Apocalypse
Now, Reds, and The Last Emperor, another Bertolucci title).
This
is reason alone to view the film today. The content is perhaps a little too
attached to the time period in which it was made, in that the editing and
narrative flow of the movie is somewhat experimental with its use of flashbacks
and time-jumping that filmmakers liked to play with in those days. As a result,
the first half of The Conformist takes some getting used to (and is, at
first, difficult to follow), but the second half is riveting. The subject
matter is also extremely political in that it is a psychological character
study of a man torn between the desire to fit in and to do what is right within
the context of the socio-political climate of his time.
It’s
1930s Italy, during Mussolini’s reign. Trintignant is Marcello, a wannabe
social climber… but to do so, he must during those years be a member of
Mussolini’s party and, well, a fascist. Most of his friends are members of the
party, as is his closest pal, a blind man named Italo (José
Quaglio). In 1938, Marcello accepts the assignment to assassinate his former
college professor, Luca Quadri (Enzo Tarascio), a staunch anti-fascist living
in Paris with his wife, Anna (Dominique Sanda). Marcello marries Giulia
(Stefania Sandrelli), a pretty girl who is naïve and rather common, in an
attempt to be “more like ‘normal’ people.” Marcello disguises his true purpose
on the trip to Paris by bringing along Giulia, and he is shadowed by his
handler, Agent Manganiello (Gastone Moschin, recognizable to Western audiences
as Don Fanucci from The Godfather Part II). Once in Paris, Marcello and
Giulia enjoy social gatherings with the Quadris, and there is some eyebrow-raising
hanky-panky that occurs between Anna and not only Marcello, but also Giulia!
(The seductive dance between Anna and Giulia at a party is a highlight of the
movie, and stills from the sequence dominated its marketing.) In the meantime,
Marcello is struggling with his assignment. Thrown into his head torment is the
trauma he suffered back in 1917, when as a boy he was molested by a young man.
There
is a lot going on within the characters’ psyches in The Conformist. It
is a rich, deeply layered motion picture that asks many questions and provides
few answers. Some sequences were shocking in 1970 and are still disturbing
today. This is potent cinema, providing the early evidence that Bertolucci was
a formidable artist who would push the envelope.
The
RARO Cinema Art Blu-ray edition (from RAROvideousa.com, distributed by Kino
Lorber) is a 2-disk set. The first disk contains a new stunning 4K restoration
from the original camera negative. This is accompanied by an audio commentary
by film critic Bilge Ebiri. The second disk is the 2011 HD restoration that
both Bertolucci and Storaro worked on. The inclusion of the second disk feature
is curious since the new restoration is far, far superior and should be the
go-to viewing. It appears that the second, older version is simply there for
comparison.
Supplements
spread over the two disks include an interview with Valentina Ricciardelli, the
president of the Bernardo Bertolucci Foundation; an hour-long documentary, “In
the Shade of The Conformist”; and trailers of the film from 1970, 2014,
and 2023.
The
Conformist is
for fans of Bernardo Bertolucci, Vittorio Storaro, Jean-Louis Trintignant,
international cinema, and political films.
One
of the more under-seen and underrated films from 1985 is John Boorman’s
impressive The Emerald Forest, which gave us an ecological message long
before that was much in the public consciousness.
Of
a more cinematic significance, this picture is a grand adventure full of action
and spectacle, much like Boorman’s Deliverance (1972) or Excalibur (1981)
before it. The production values also indicate that this was no easy feat of a
movie to make.
The
Emerald Forest was
shot in and near São Paolo, Brazil, right smack by the Amazon
River and in the rain forest. Native extras populated much of the movie, which
possibly for the first time provided to audiences of a mainstream motion
picture depictions of how indigenous tribes in the jungle live. The result is
fascinating, and the National Geographic lesson is enhanced by an
exciting tale of kidnapping, exploration, survival, and human trafficking!
Powers
Boothe is Bill, a high-ranking engineer with a corporation that is building a large
hydro-electric dam on the edge of the rain forest. He’s moved his family of a
wife and two young children—a boy and a girl—to the city. One day while
overseeing the work of clearing the area of trees, Bill and his family have a
picnic at the edge of the jungle. Little does he know that the “Invisible
People,” a tribe that has not had contact with civilization, has dared to get
close to what they refer to as “the edge of the world.” When Tommy wanders off,
he is kidnapped by the tribe. Bill thus embarks on a long process to search for
his son, but to no avail.
Ten
years later, Tommy (Charley Boorman) has assimilated into the tribe and become
one of the Invisible People. His “father” of the tribe (Rui Polanah) loves him
like a son, and Tommy loves him back, although he has dreams of “Daddy.” Now
Tommy is ready to take a mate, and he chooses young and beautiful Kachiri (Dira
Paes). Meanwhile Bill and a photographer embark deep into the jungle to look
for Tommy again. They encounter the hostile “Fierce People,” who force Bill to
become prey in a hunt through the jungle. Tommy ends up saving Bill, and the
real father and son reunite. Tommy, however, refuses to accompany Bill back to
his first home. And then the human traffickers enter the story. To say more
would spoil the tale!
There
is a lot of “Tarzan movie” aspects to this picture, but without the
unintentional racism. There is also a lot of nudity of all the indigenous
people on display, which received some criticism when the picture was released
(Dira Paes was only fifteen years old). However, this was not exploitation.
Boorman and his team took great pains to be accurate and truthful in the
depiction of the tribes’ customs and ways. Yes, the Fierce People are portrayed
as the villains and the Invisible People are ultimately shown to be good at
heart (even though they kidnapped a young white boy). There is indeed some idealism
and moral ambiguity going on in The Emerald Forest, especially when it
comes to the film’s climactic raid on a human trafficking center in the jungle.
Finally, there is the message that indigenous people are being wiped out by the
actions of white people who are cutting down rain forests.
Powers
Boothe does an admirable job here, but it is Charley Boorman (son of the
director) who steals the movie. He was around eighteen when the picture was
made, and he manages to speak the indigenous language, perform jungle stunts,
and carry on with his native costars as if he were one of them. Boorman’s
direction is notable, too, given the locale and the cast with whom he had to
work. Philippe Rousselot’s cinematography is also quite commendable.
Kino
Studio Classics’ new Blu-ray release is a welcome one, and its 1920x1080p
presentation is colorful and rich. There is an audio commentary by filmmaker
Edgar Pablos and film historian Nathaniel Thompson that sheds light on the
production. Supplements include the theatrical trailer and other Kino trailers. There is also reversible sleeve artwork.
The
Emerald Forest is
for fans of director John Boorman and of jungle exploration adventures.
Recommended.
RETRO-ACTIVE: MEMORABLE ARTICLES FROM THE CINEMA RETRO ARCHIVES
By
Hank Reineke
In September of 2021 I attended Manhattan’s Quad Cinema screening
of Thomas Hamilton’s affectionate documentary Boris Karloff: the Man Behind the Monster.As a life-long fan of the actor - and the
owner of dozens of books examining the actor’s career in film, stage and radio
- this was the sort of career-spanning appraisal I was hoping to someday
see.Then, only a few weeks following
that theatrical screening, Cinema Retro
was provided a stream of the doc for critical review.This enabled me to watch the film a second
time, revisiting bits of commentary I had missed or recalled only hazily.At the time the stream was provided to Cinema Retro, it was still uncertain if Boris Karloff: The Man Behind the Monster
would be offered on physical media.That
question was answered in October 2022 when the film became available as a two-disc
combo Blu ray/DVD set from Voltage Films/Abramorama.
In the sixteen-page booklet that’s included in the set, director
Hamilton advises both he and scripter Ronald MacCloskey originally envisioned
their Karloff doc as a bold “4-hour, 2-part film or a 6 part miniseries.”They certainly had enough material to do so,
with a reported 60+ hours of interviews involving no fewer than fifty-five
subjects.And, that sixty hours of
recorded interviews, of course, didn’t include the footage gleaned from
Karloff’s fabled filmography.
While you’re not going to find some sixty-odd hours of
extras on this release,the set does suggest that it offers an expanded
director’s cut (titled on packaging - but not on the film itself - as Boris Karloff: The Rest of the Story).This is a bit curious.The version screened theatrically at the Quad
ran 103 minutes – at least as per its billing at the cinema.The
Rest of the Story disc runs one hour and forty-three minutes.Which, if my math skills haven’t failed,
equals the same 103 minutes of running time.
Of course the new set does feature two additional bonus
selections.The first, Meeting Boris Karloff, is, truthfully,
not a terribly essential addition, but not uninteresting.It’s an offering of fourteen minutes of interview/commentary
by three figures a bit tangential to Karloff’s legend.Of the trio, author and film historian Kevin
Brownlow shares his reminisce of his November 1964 interview with Karloff.He recalls Karloff as an interesting
interviewee – one who wasn’t remiss to take issue or correct erroneous information
found in the press clippings Brownlow had collected.But he noted Karloff always challenged misinformation
in a gentlemanly manner.
Andrew Pratt, described as a “great nephew” of the actor,
then shyly recounts his one and only meeting with his great uncle.He credits that meeting as inspiration to
pursue a career in film art direction – a career that would earn him a number
of nominations and awards from the Academy, BAFTA, and the Art Directors
Guild.The last subject interviewed was
Anthony Bilbow, a television host of BBC-2’s Late Night Line-Up. His only real connection to Karloff was when
the actor was a guest on the program, September of 1968.He recalls Karloff as a gentleman kind and
warm, modest and self-effacing – but not in a “counterfeit” sort of way.
The final bonus feature of the set is a three-minute
interview with the co-scriptwriter of Boris
Karloff: the Man Behind the Monster, Ron MacCloskey.This New Jersey-based writer and comedian
fell under Karloff’s spell at age seven, having caught Frankenstein on a late night TV telecast.A collector of Frankenstein memorabilia,
MacCloskey’s interest in Karloff’s work proved lifelong and ultimately led to
his teaming with director Thomas Hamilton to start shooting this documentary in
2018.
If the doc itself is truly an expanded version of the original,
it doesn’t really change or radically alter anything presented in the
theatrical cut.I’m more than willing to
stand corrected if indeed, the doc is offered here in an expanded form.My frame-by-frame memories of those 2021
screenings are all a bit hazy now, so I can’t say with any certainty if extra
footage/commentary was included.But, if
you missed it the first time, I’ll tack on my original “streaming” review of
October of 2021.I very much enjoyed the
doc on its original run and my opinion of its merit has not changed at all.Read on, should you wish:
There’s a telling moment at the dénouement of Thomas
Hamilton’s and Ron MacCloskey’s affectionate documentary Boris Karloff: The Man behind the Monster.Sara Karloff, the now eighty-two year old daughter
of the beloved actor, opines that her father’s lasting cinematic legacy is due,
in part, to the tenaciousness of his devoted fan base.It’s a demographic that we soon discover
consists of a number of amazingly creative people: folks whose loyalty to and
enthusiasm for Karloff’s work has not wavered over the decades.Sara’s contention is inarguably true.As this ninety-nine minute Voltage
Films/Abramorama documentary unspools – crisply narrated by Paul Ryan and
featuring commentary by preeminent Karloff scholar and “Biographical
Consultant” Stephen Jacobs - we discover the actor’s admirer’s bridge several
generations of fans and filmmakers.
The first generation to discover Karloff in the decades
following his big splash as the Frankenstein monster in 1931, include directors
Roger Corman and Peter Bogdanovich.Both
men would have the opportunity and honor to work with the actor in his twilight
years.The second generation of admirers
were those introduced to Karloff via neighborhood cinema screenings or through
television broadcasts of Shock Theater
in the late 1950s/early 1960s.
These filmmakers, profoundly influenced by Karloff’s art,
would go on to create a few cinematic gems of their own:John Landis, Joe Dante, and Guillermo Del
Toro, to name a few.The latter
gentleman is particularly effusive in his praise, describing Karloff’s
performance as the vampiric Wurdalak
in Mario Bava’s Black Sabbath as a
“tremendous” example of the great actor’s “physical presence, his majesty, his
demonic power.”
If the documentary is chock-full of talented filmmakers offering
tributes, the film is also supported by the erudite commentaries of film
scholars David J. Skal (The Monster Show:
a Cultural History of Horror), Gregory W. Mank (Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff: the Expanded Story of a Haunting
Collaboration), Donald F. Glut (The
Frankenstein Legend: a tribute to Mary Shelley and Boris Karloff), Sir
Christopher Frayling (Frankenstein: the
first Two Hundred Years), and critic Leonard Maltin.
There are also short tributes and reminisces by several
actors – three now gone - who had worked with Karloff at some point in their
career: Dick Miller (The Terror),
Christopher Plummer (The Lark, Even the Weariest River), Ian Ogilvy (The Sorcerers), and Orson Bean (Arsenic and Old Lace).Karloff’s tells part of his own story through
audio recordings made available to the filmmakers courtesy of the British cinema
historian/author Kevin Brownlow (The
Parades Gone By…) and the Pacifica Radio Archive.
It has long annoyed me that when one searches out the
term “Boris Karloff” in the ever-expanding IMDB, the resulting prompt
identifies the actor’s signature film as The
Grinch that Stole Christmas (1966).My daughters would remind me that my personal agitation of this result is,
by definition, a “first world” problem, one hardly worthy of condemnation.But as cinema’s preeminent boogeyman for four
decades, seeing Karloff’s storied career reduced to a role featuring only his
disembodied voice as the Grinch… Well, let’s just say that I still find it somewhat
misleading and inappropriate.
Be that as it may, Hamilton’s film reminds Karloff
himself might disagree with my wariness of the Grinch being bandied as the
cinematic crown jewel of the actor’s legacy.Sara Karloff recalls receiving a phone call from her father immediately
following his recording of the narration for that beloved Dr. Seuss vehicle.The actor we learn was profoundly happy with
his work on the now-famous animated holiday classic, telling his daughter
proudly, “I’ve done something which I think is pretty good.”
Karloff would pass away a couple of years following the
first broadcast of The Grinch that Stole
Christmas, but he worked to the very end of his days, appearing in a number
of memorable – and a few less-than-memorable – films, several of which would see
release in years following his passing.His last films were little more than cameo-length appearances shot on a
Hollywood sound stage.It was director
Jack Hill’s idea to take the Karloff footage from these shoots and blend the
results into a series of Mexican horror films.
Karloff, rightly and proudly, would choose to refer to
his spell-binding turn as the semi-autobiographical aging horror film actor Byron
Orlok in Bogdanovich’s Targets (1968)
as his feature film swan song.Technically,
it wasn’t.But the brief appearances in that
post- Target series of Hollywood-Mexico
co-production mash-ups were mostly an excuse for an old pro to continue to ply
his trade and keep busy.But working
oxygen-tank dependent and wheelchair bound on the Jack Hill-directed sequences,
Karloff was prevented from doing much of anything with the already somewhat
cut-and-paste material given to him.
Karloff, of course, was not the only “horror film” star
of the genre’s celebrated Golden Age of the 1930s and 40s. Karloff, we learn, was actually not happy with
the designation “horror movie”, much preferring his films to be termed as
“thrillers” or “shock” pictures. His contemporary competitor as grand ghoul of
the horror film - one whose own legacy would burn bright into the next century -
was Bela Lugosi.Although Lugosi had too
often played second-fiddle to Karloff in matters of employment and billing, the
Hungarian’s post-mortem fame may have eclipsed his friend’s star over the last few
decades.
For starters, Lugosi’s sad and lurid dependency on morphine
and alcohol in his final years made him the subject of tabloid fodder, and
gossip then – and now – still rules.Lugosi’s
slow demise coupled with his appearances in several of Edward J. Wood’s revered
cult films brought him a big degree of post-mortem fame.A brand new generation would discover the
actor through Martin Landau’s Oscar-winning turn as Lugosi in Tim Burton’s
semi-biographical drama Ed Wood.
To be fair, Lugosi’s string of mad performances in Wood’s
Plan 9 from Outer Space (1957), Bride of the Monster (1955), and Glen or Glenda (1953) are, in many ways,
were no less better or worse or more undistinguished than Karloff’s walk-ons in
the creaky Jack Hill/Mexi-horror films of spring 1968. Though both sets of films are passably
entertaining in their own uneven, cult-ish ways, both actor’s cinematic exits
were ignoble ends to these two great men who famously made audiences shiver in
1931.
James Whale’s Frankenstein
would ultimately transform Karloff into a full-fledged movie star, but it had
been a long road to achieving such fame.The actor had been working on various Hollywood backlots since the
silent era.In the course of his
earliest silent film efforts – beginning with such titles as The Lightning Raider (1919) and His Majesty, the American (1919) – he
worked as little more than an extra.His
subsequent fame would cause a score of budding film historians to carefully
survey battered old prints of Karloff’s earliest filmography in the often
futile hope of catching a glimpse as he passed by the camera.
In truth, his decade-long career as a silent film actor
was mostly non consequential.He would
appear in approximately sixty or so silent films between 1919 and 1929.He would, on occasion, be gifted a role of
some heft, most notably as that of “The Mesmerist” in The Bells (1926) opposite Lionel Barrymore, but he was most often
cast in adventure-orientated serials as a heavy, or as a Hindu, Mexican or an Arab,
a mystic or a general ne’er-do-well.
It was his casting as the sadistic “Galloway” in Howard
Hawk’s sound prison drama The Criminal
Code (1930) that brought him to the attention of Universal executives
looking to cast a suitably cadaverous-appearing actor as the Frankenstein
monster.Following Lugosi’s rejection of
the part due to the absence of dialogue afforded, Bela’s pass on the role was
fortuitous for Karloff.He was still hungry
and looking for that big break.Although
the role of the monster would forever typecast him, the actor remained forever
grateful for having taking the role in Frankenstein,
once describing the career door-opening creature as “the best friend I ever
had.”
It’s not hard to see why Karloff’s portrayal of the
monster remains the preeminent of the Universal series.He was, after all, the only actor to have
been given the opportunity to actually act and emote, to bring a sense of pathos
to the role.He was abetted, of course,
by Jack Pierce’s iconic make-up which, rather than masking, cannily sculpted
and made highlight of Karloff’s facial features and sunken cheeks.This gave the monster, according to one of
the participants in the documentary, a “full expression range.”The trio of actors who would subsequently
portray the monster in the Universal series simply weren’t given the
opportunity to apply any emotive effect of their own.Even by Son
of Frankenstein (1939), the third film in the series, the screenwriters had
already reduced the monster into little more than a hulking, lumbering menace
and henchman.
It is discouraging to learn that when Frankenstein had its gala premiere in
the autumn of 1931, Karloff was not even invited to attend.He was already forty-four years of age when
he assumed the role, a no-name celebrity and hardly a handsome matinee idol of
any recognition.The unexpected
phenomenal success of Frankenstein
would change all that, and Universal was quick to capitalize on the actor’s
sudden notoriety as Hollywood’s most beloved boogeyman.Karloff’s natural proclivity for taking on
roles of menacing villainous characters with icy stares would allow his casting
into a string of Golden Age horror classics – not only for Universal but for
other studios as well, including memorable turn in MGM’s The Mask of Fu Manchu.The
latter remains a great, entertaining film… if undeniably one of the most
politically-incorrect lavish big studio productions of the 1930s.
When the market for horror films softened in the
mid-1940s – thanks, in part, due to the horror genre’s continuing perceived transgressions
of the Hays Code - Karloff easily transitioned to character roles, where,
according to his daughter, her father’s natural “dark coloring,” permitted him
to slip easily into “ethnic roles.”As
one of the founders of the Screen Actors Guild, he was able to exercise his
freelance status by working for, amongst others, RKO, Columbia, Monogram, and
Warner Bros.
Another avenue of opportunity had presented itself around
this same time.In 1941 Karloff was
lured, against his better judgement according to this film, to take on the Broadway
role of the villainous Jonathan Brewster in Joseph L. Kesselring’s stage play Arsenic and Old Lace.It was to his life-long disappointment that a
clause in his theatrical stage contract prevented his returning to Hollywood –
as did several fellow members of the original Broadway cast – to reprise the
role for the much beloved Frank Capra film adaptation of 1944.
Though initially frightened to work in theatre before a
live audience, the success of Arsenic
emboldened Karloff to accept several other roles in such Broadway productions as
The Lark (with Julie Harris), The Linden Tree, The Shop at Sly Corner, and even in a memorable turn as Captain
Hook in a 1950 production of Peter Pan.Fortunately, we of a certain age who missed
out still can get a small taste of what we missed since kinescopes survive from
early Hallmark Hall of Fame
broadcasts of the original production of The
Lark and a 1961 re-staging of Arsenic
and Old Lace.
Though Karloff’s work in radio is mostly ignored in this
documentary, the film does take pains to point out that he was among the first
movie stars of his generation to fully embrace television.Though he would often appear in serious
televisions drams for such programs as Texaco
Star Theater or Playhouse 90, he
was not above spoofing his own curious fame as Hollywood’s grandest ghoul on
any number of variety programs hosted by the likes of Red Skelton or Dinah
Shore.
(Stefanie Powers and Robert Vaughn with Karloff in "The Mother Muffin Affair" on "The Girl from U.N.C.L.E." (Photo: Cinema Retro Archives)
In the 1960s, he would famously host (and occasionally
act) in episodes of the television program Thriller,
or appear in drag as “Mother Muffin” in an episode of The Girl from U.N.C.L.E – or with former U.N.C.L.E. agent Robert
Vaughn in the spy-film The Venetian
Affair (1966).Joe Dante also
references the series of wonderful long-playing albums Karloff would record
over the years, his unmistakable, lisping voice introducing children to a wonderful
selection of folk tales, ghost stories, Washington Irving classics, and
time-worn fables.
Boris
Karloff: the Man behind the Monster reminds us that the actor (1887-1969)
accomplished a lot in his eighty-one-years, a large percentage of which would
encompass appearances on screen, on stage, on air, on record, and on
television.To their credit, the
filmmakers share what they can in the constraint of the film’ ninety-nine
minute running time, and the film certainly succeeds as an excellent
primer.Karloff wonks like myself might
hold out hope that a multi-part, Ken Burns-style series might someday be put
into the works, but I imagine that’s unlikely.One hundred and thirty four years have passed since Karloff’s birth.The fact that contemporary audiences remain completely
entranced by his filmography in 2021 is testament enough to the worthiness of
this loving tribute painting him as one of Hollywood’s greatest.
Supernatural Horror Classic, The
Devil’s Partner (1961) Newly Restored 4K Special Edition
Includes Newly Restored Bonus
Film, Creature From the Haunted Sea (1961)
On Blu-ray & DVD Jan. 16th
Special Features Includes New Interview With Roger Corman
ROCKPORT, Mass. — January 2024 — For Immediate Release — Vintage film restoration and distribution company Film Masters continues its tribute to the pope of pop cinema, Roger Corman, with the third installment of The Filmgroup series on Blu-ray and DVD, The Devil’s Partner, available Jan. 16.
Corman and his brother, Gene, founded The Filmgroup to distribute their own films. While the company did produce the majority of its films, including the cult classic Creature From the Haunted Sea, it also occasionally acquired projects by other filmmakers, as is the case with The Devil's Partner (1961). From director Charles R. Rondeau, the film is a macabre tale of an elderly man who regains his youth after making a deal with the devil.During the summer and fall of 1961, the two films were often paired as a double feature.
Half Man, Half Beast, He Sold his Soul for Passion — Director/actor Edgar Buchanan (best known as Uncle Joe on Petticoat Junction)
appears in this supernatural thriller about an old codger trying to
reclaim his youth, employing black magic to lure a woman away from his
rival. The film also stars Jean Allison,Richard Crane and Ed Nelson.
This well-crafted, independent feature has been hailed for its
atmosphere and as a pioneering film in the devil worshiping subgenre
made popular in the ‘70s.
Made in 1958, The Devil’s Partnerlanguished with no release date until it was picked up and distributed by The Filmgroup, becoming a steady presence on the drive-in circuit, often appearing in tandem with Creature from Haunted Sea, another Corman classic from the golden age of drive-in schlock.
This spoof of spy/gangsters/monster movies stars Anthony Carbone
as a gangster and smuggler who decides to kill members of the ship’s
bungling crew and blame their deaths on a legendary sea creature. What
he doesn’t know is that the creature is actually out there!Also starring Betsy Jones-Moreland and Academy Award-winning screenwriter Robert Towne (Chinatown) under the pseudonym Edward Wain.
?
The film was conceived when Corman finished shooting The Last Woman on Earth in Puerto Rico and discovered he had enough film left over to make another film. He enlisted long-time associate Charles B. Griffith,
who—legend goes—had six days to write the script. Ever the pragmatist
when it came to budget, Corman recruited locals to appear in this film
as extras.
Special Features:Commentary for The Devil’s Partner is by Larry Strothe, James Gonis, Shawn Sheridan and Matt Weinhold of the Monster Party podcast; theatrical-length commentary for Creature From the Haunted Sea
is by fan favorite Tom Weaver, with contributions from Roger Corman,
Kinta Zertuche and Larry Blamire. Weaver also provides the liner notes
for the film. Ballyhoo Motion Picturescontributes Hollywood Intruders: The Filmgroup Story
with Part III of the story, as well as their new interview with Roger
Corman on the formation of The Filmgroup; recut trailers, based on the
original theatrical trailers; original Creature From the Haunted Sea theatrical trailer (from 16mm archival elements scanned in 4k); and a full essay for The Devil’s Partner by author Mark McGee.
Both films are presented with a theatrical aspect ratio of 1.85:1, as well as in a 1.37:1 television format. The televised version of Creature From the Haunted Seaincludes anadditional
15 minutes of footage shot years later to extend the film for a sale to
Allied Artists. Discs are region free and include English SDH.Audio is DTS-HD/Dolby AC3s.
Horror films featuring either attached, murderous
hands with minds of their own or just a homicidal, disembodied hand on the
loose have been around since the early days of cinema. Classic films like The Hands of Orlac (1924), it’s 1935
remake, Mad Love, as well as The Beast with Five Fingers (1946) and Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors (1965) are
just a few that immediately come to mind.
After the phenomenal success of 1973’s The Exorcist, a plethora of demonic
possession films flooded theater screens, creating a popular cycle of movies
which consisted of, amongst other things, satanic possession and the power of
good (usually in the form of a Catholic priest) to stop it. Titles such as Beyond the Door (1974), Abby (1974) and The Omen (1976) quickly followed, with the first two, although
thoroughly entertaining, aping The
Exorcist quite a bit. Unfortunately, there were also many films that were
merely unenjoyable and stale Exorcist
cash-ins. However, in 1981, a low-budget filmmaker smartly combined the
homicidal hand idea with satanic possession and created a fun, little cult film
called Demonoid.
While in Mexico, Mark Baines (Chinatown’sRoy Jenson) unwittingly unleashes an ancient evil in the form of a
severed hand. The hand immediately possesses Mark and wreaks havoc until the
poor man is killed and the demonic hand is separated from his dead body. Once
free, the hand continues to possess anyone it comes across, leaving a trail of
blood in its wake. With the help of benevolent Irish priest, Father Cunningham
(Stuart Whitman from Eaten Alive), Mark’s
wife, Jennifer (The Brood’ sSamantha Eggar), does everything in her
power to try and stop the evil hand before more innocent blood is spilled.
The fun film features two Academy Award nominees:
Samantha Eggar (for 1965’s The Collector)and Stuart Whitman (for 1961’s The Mark). Needless to say, Eggar and
Whitman are both convincing due to taking their roles and the premise of the film
seriously. This only helps the audience to believe in it as well, therefore
making the film even more enjoyable. Fans of 60s/70s cinema and television will
also be happy to spot highly recognizable character actor (and sometime
stuntman) Roy Jenson from Our Man Flint,The Getaway, The Gauntlet, Kung Fu and
Star Trek, just to name a few. Last, but not least, actor/stuntman Ted
White (Starman), who is best known to
genre fans for playing our favorite hockey-masked slasher-killer, Jason
Voorhees in 1984’s Friday the 13th:
The Final Chapter, shows up as an unfortunate victim of the hand’s deadly
rampage.
Filmmaker Alfredo Zacarias’ idea for Demonoid sprang from a desire to make a
film about the good and evil that dwells within every person. Combining the
disembodied hand idea with demonic possession/Exorcist-like themes, Zacarias fashioned a somewhat original and
enjoyably cheesy drive-in film that grindhouse fans like me find extremely
pleasurable. The movie may be a bit silly in spots (certain scenes of the hand
moving around as well as the actors pretending that their left hands have a
mind of their own are unintentionally hilarious and quite charming; not to
mention the fact that Stuart Whitman goes in and out of an Irish accent
whenever he feels like it), but it’s still an interesting and entertaining
enough horror-thriller with a solid, likeable cast and a fun monster in the
form of the disembodied hand.
Demonoid has been released as
a Blu-ray/DVD combo from the fine folks at Vinegar Syndrome. The film, which
has been restored from the original 35mm camera negative and scanned in 2K, is
presented in its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio and, with the exception of a little
grain here and there, the transfer looks beautiful. Special features include
the theatrical trailer, TV spot, an artwork gallery, and an interesting and
informative video interview with writer/director/producer Alfredo Zacarias. The
disc also contains the international version of Demonoid titled Macabra,
which runs ten minutes longer than the US version and features a different
soundtrack (the US version uses music taken from the 1977 sci-fi classic The Incredible Melting Man). We are also
treated to a Macabra trailer and TV
spot. The eye-catching, original poster artwork for Demonoid can be seen on the Blu-ray sleeve and the Blu-ray disc
itself while the striking artwork for Macabra
shows up on the DVD disc as well as on the reversible sleeve. All in all, a
very well put together collection of a not very well-known, but extremely fun
film.
William Holden, Grace Kelly and Mickey Rooney star in James
A. Michener’s Korean War drama, “The Bridges at Toko-Ri,” released on Blu-ray by
Kino Lorber. Holden is Lieutenant Harry Brubaker, a lawyer and Naval Reservist
called to active duty during the Korean War. The film opens in November 1952
where we meet Brubaker returning to the deck of the aircraft carrier USS Savo
Island off the coast of Korea. He ends up ditching his plane in the ocean after
running out of fuel and is rescued from the icy waters. Mickey Rooney gives a
memorable performance as Chief Petty Officer Mike Forney, the helicopter pilot who
rescues Brubaker from the ocean. Forney wears an unauthorized addition to his
uniform, a green top hat and matching scarf, when flying. He also likes to
brawl while on shore leave due to girlfriend problems. Earl
Holliman plays Nestor Gamidge, the rescue man who assists in getting the
pilots into the helicopter and brawling with Mike.
Brubaker is a good pilot and WWII veteran who’s resentful
because his civilian life was disrupted by the recall for the Korean War. He
starts to question his abilities as a pilot after ditching his plane and is
nervous about an upcoming bombing mission. Grace Kelly plays his wife, Nancy
Brubaker, who surprises her husband by visiting Japan with their children which
casts additional doubts on Brubaker’s ability to carry out dangerous missions.
Headquartered on the USS Savo Island, the naval task
force commander is Rear Admiral George Tarrant and is played by Fredric March.
Tarrant lost his sons during WWII and is filled with many regrets in life but
tries to change Brubaker’s mind about his career as a naval aviator.Rounding out the cast is Charles McGraw as
Commander Wayne Lee, the fighter wing commander, who leads the climactic
assault on the bridges. Robert Strauss is
Lieutenant “Beer Barrel,” and Willis Bouchey as Captain Evans.There’s also an uncredited bit role by Dennis Weaver as the mission briefing
officer.
The movie is divided into three parts. We meet the
members of the carrier crew in part one. The middle section features shore
leave in Japan where we meet Mrs. Brubaker and the Brubaker’s two young
daughters. There’s also some shore leave drama involving Forney and Nestor
which shows Brubaker’s dedication to these men. The final part of the movie
involves the bombing mission at Toko-Ri which pays off beautifully.
The movie features great use of United States Navy
resources as the bulk of the film takes place on the deck of the carrier USS
Essex with extensive use of the F9F Panther and shots of the carrier task
force. The use of actual United States Navy ships and aircraft rather than
models is an essential part of the authenticity of this movie. Michener himself
spent time on board the USS Essex gathering research for what would become the
short novel, “The Bridges at Toko-Ri,” which was released in 1953. That
experience by Michener was made into the MGM release, “Men of the Fighting Lady,”
with Michener played by Louis Calhern. That movie was released in May 1954, a
few months prior to the premier of “Toko-Ri.”
Holden gives one of his typical cynical performances
which he was great at doing, especially in such films as “Sunset Blvd,” “Stalag
17” and later in “The Bridge on the River Kwai” and “The Horse Soldiers.” He’s
not quite so cynical in this film and gives a great performance as
Brubaker. Grace Kelly isn’t given much to do other than looking beautiful as
the dutiful wife with kids in tow, but she’s important in sealing her husband’s’
doubts. All her scenes were filmed on studio sets in Hollywood with someone
doubling for her in long shots in the location scenes. I think Rooney gives the
standout performance as Mike Forney with the green top hat and scarf. Earl
Holliman is also good as Mike’s best friend and sidekick with Fredric March and
Charles McGraw good as the stoic and capable father figures. I wish Robert
Strauss’ comedic skills were put to greater use in the film, especially
considering he is fondly remembered in “Stalag 17” with Holden. There’s a side
story set up at the start and end of shore leave involving a set of golf clubs carried
by Beer Barrel that’s never explained.
The movie is directed by Mark Robson with a screenplay by
Valentine Davies. While Robson is not a name that rings bells, you certainly
know his movies which include “Peyton Place,” “The Prize,” “Von Ryan’s
Express,” “Valley of the Dolls” and “Earthquake” to name a few of his most well-known
movies. Robson started his career working uncredited as an assistant editor for
Orson Welles and eventually worked his way up to editor and director
culminating in several high-profile big budget movies. He died of a heart
attack in 1978 shortly after the completion of “Avalanche Express” which was
released the following year.
The score by Lyn Murray is serviceable and the on-location
shipboard filming adds great production value to the movie. The model work
depicting the crash landing scenes are very done as well. The film was released theatrically in December
1954 by Paramount. This Kino Lorber release looks and sounds better than ever. The
movie clocks in at 102 minutes and is presented in a widescreen aspect ratio
which resembles VistaVision, even though it isn’t, as the movie went into
production during the transition period when the process was still being perfected.
The Blu-ray release includes an outstanding audio commentary by film historians
Steve Mitchell and Steven J. Rubin as well as trailers for this and other Kino
Lorber releases. The movie is highly recommended for fans of Holden, Kelly,
Rooney and military drama.
Although
he had made two previous feature films and several shorts, it was Mean
Streets that placed Martin Scorsese into the minds of discerning filmgoers.
This low budget independent picture (released by Warner Brothers) proved, as
filmmaker Richard Linklater states in a Directors Guild of America interview
with Scorsese from 2011 (presented here as a supplement), that artists who
wanted to make a movie could go out and find the means to put their
vision on the screen without interference from studio brass. Indeed, that’s
what Scorsese did.
At
the time, Scorsese was trying to make it in Hollywood. It was John Cassavetes
who had urged him to stop working for Roger Corman (for whom Scorsese had made
1972’s Boxcar Bertha) and “go back to his roots.” Well, Scorsese’s roots
were in the Little Italy neighborhood of New York City. He had grown up there.
He had friends there. He knew the life there, all the “goodfellas” and wannabe
tough guys and low level (and some high level) gangsters. So the filmmaker
crafted a screenplay with fellow NYU film school alumnus Mardik Martin, cast
guys he knew such as Harvey Keitel in the lead (he had starred in Scorsese’s
first feature, Who’s That Knocking at My Door from 1967, retooled and
released in 1968 and again in 1969) and Robert De Niro (who had also grown up
in the neighborhood and had known Scorsese when they were younger; this was
Scorsese’s first collaboration with De Niro, then an actor who had done some
Roger Corman films and was still attempting to up his game). Other familiar
faces that have appeared in Scorsese’s oeuvre were also cast—Victor
Argo, Harry Northup, David Carradine, and Murray Moston—but also other notable
actors who have been in mob-related pictures such as David Proval, Richard
Romanus, and Cesare Danova. Amy Robinson, who later became a producer (she
co-produced Scorsese’s After Hours in 1985) was cast as the female lead.
Mean
Streets features
the hallmarks of what we would come to know to be in a “Martin Scorsese Film,”
especially when he focuses on the underworld, a topic to which he has returned
many times: brotherhood, loyalty, friendship, betrayal, guilt (lots of guilt),
Catholicism, sex, drugs, rock and roll, crime, and violence. This life in
Little Italy is edgy, gritty, dangerous, and quite self-contained. There isn’t
a moment in which an audience might think—oh, this couldn’t happen… because
Scorsese convinces you that it can and has.
Charlie
(Keitel) is a small time hood in Little Italy. His uncle is Giovanni (Danova),
a big time Mafioso. Charlie acts as a big brother figure to his friend, Johnny
Boy (De Niro), who is reckless and not the brightest bulb in the socket, and
who owes money to several gangsters, including Michael (Romanus). Charlie
secretly dates Teresa (Robinson), who is Johnny Boy’s sister. She suffers from
epilepsy and is an outsider to the closed-knit Italian culture of the
neighborhood. Giovanni wants Charlie to get away from Johnny Boy, but Charlie
can’t do it. Eventually the debtors come to get Johnny Boy to pay up, and Charlie
must make decisions that will tear him apart. And that’s when the violence
erupts.
What’s
truly amazing about Mean Streets is that, according to cinematographer Kent
Wakeford, only 6% of the film was actually shot in Little Italy (this reviewer
believes it is slightly more, but certainly not as much as 10%). The rest was
all shot in the Los Angeles area! Scorsese and his design team managed
to find locations in California that somewhat resembled New York City, and
nearly all of the interiors were shot in real spaces (existing bars, hotels,
and apartments). No sound stages were used. For decades, critics and film
historians have touted Mean Streets to be one of the “great New York
films, shot on the streets” when, in fact, it wasn’t! That’s not to say that
it’s not a great New York film, because it is.
Mean
Streets is
a rough and ready, visceral, fast moving, in your face crime picture with unsavory
characters and a vibe that will make you nervous. You might ask, well, is it
entertaining? You bet your life it is. But with these ne’er-do-wells, your life
may not be worth much.
The
Criterion Collection presents a new 4K digital restoration approved by Scorsese
and frequent collaborator/editor Thelma Schoonmaker (who was not involved with
the film), with an uncompressed monaural soundtrack. After several home video
releases in the past on DVD and Blu-ray, this one is obviously tops.
Supplements
include the excellent previously mentioned discussion about the film between
Scorsese and Richard Linklater at the DGA; an audio commentary by Scorsese and
Amy Robinson on specific scenes from the film; a new, observant video essay by
Imogen Sara Smith about the picture; an interview with DP Wakefield; excerpts
from a documentary about co-writer Mardik Martin; a vintage promo video from
1973 about the making of the film (the only supplement ported over from
previous home video releases); and the theatrical trailer. The package booklet
contains an essay by critic Lucy Sante.
Mean
Streets is
a must-have for fans of Martin Scorsese, Harvey Keitel, Robert De Niro, and New
York City mob movies. Get it now… just remember to pay your debts!
When we think of the 1969 Oscar winner "Midnight Cowboy", chances are Harry Nilsson's "Everybody's Talkin'" comes to mind, as the song played a key part in setting the tone and atmosphere of the film, even though it was not written for the movie. United Artists made a deal to include it in the film. John Barry's moody, haunting main theme for the movie is one of the great composer's best works. If you need to be reminded why, you can relish the song again in this video montage.
The
incentive for this 4th volume in my Celluloid Adventures series was a dismissive review in a reference
book of the 1956 film version of George Orwell’s novel, 1984, calling it “a great disappointment and a lackluster
adaptation of the briliant novel.” This derogatory opinion remains the general
consensus among many critics. I disagree with this assessment, in part
because
the movie remained in my memory long after I first saw it. Furthermore, I had
read the novel so I knew that, though the adaptation was definitely a loose
one, it was actually faithful to Orwell’s ideas. So I wanted to redress this
negative opinion of the movie and proceeded to write about it. This led to my
considering other movies in the science fiction and horror genres that, I
believe, are also underrated. Thus was born the concept for Celluloid Adventures 4:Science Fiction Thrills….Horror Chills.
I
should state at this point that I became a fan of science fiction and horror
movies in my adolescence. I also loved Westerns (Shane is my all-time favorite movie) and it has always upset me
when a good movie, particularly in my favorite genres, fails at the box-office.
Thus, my objective in the first three volumes was to bring overdue attention to
some of these movies. In these books, I discuss films within several genres
while I devote individual chapters to science fiction and/or horror movies. For
this fourth book, I decided to focus only on science fiction and horror because
the ascendancy of these genres that began with Star Wars (1977) and The
Exorcist (1973) relegated to relative obscurity many fine movies that
preceded this dominance along with a few that followed. And it is some of these
films that I wanted to retrieve from anonymity for this book. (Not
coincidentally, my devotion to the genres more or less ended in the late 70s,
coinciding with this ascendancy, but that’s another story.)
It
was very rewarding for me to research the movies in Celluloid Adventures 4 because I discovered numerous interesting details
about their development and production that I hope will make this book equally
interesting. For instance, here are just a few of the many intriguing facts
that I learned:
The director of one movie fired his own
brother who had written the screenplay.
One movie is based upon a legend of the
birth of a deformed monster.
One movie was made by a married couple
that later engaged in an acrimonious divorce.
One movie failed upon its original
release but played to enthusiastic audiences in New York
and Los Angeles 65 years later.
The
screenplay for one movie is based upon actual inhumane experiments conducted in
prestigious universities.
The producer of one movie was forced to
cast the actor who starred in it.
The director of one movie considers it among
his worst.
One serious movie suffered because its
studio promoted it as an exploitation movie.
The
14 movies that I highlight cover a period of three and one-half decades, from
1943 to 1978, and I would speculate that the average moviegoer today has not
heard of most of them. With one exception, they were financial failures or
disappointments, a fact that contributes to their obscurity. However, I believe
that they still deserve the recognition and praise that they did not receive
upon their original release. In my estimation, these are all excellent films
but yet most of them did not attract wide audiences.
These
movies include a wide variety of subjects. In Son of Dracula (1943), the main character is a woman who is not
only eager to die but is also willing to kill the man that loves her. In Alias Nick Beal (1949), Lucifer is
determined to condemn an innocent man him to eternal suffering. Both The Power (1968) and The Medusa Touch (1978) portray men with
superior brains that have the capability to either save or destroy the entire world.
One of them will choose destruction because he hates humanity with a passion.
Very
few people have heard of the movie, Who?
(1974), and those who have heard of it were probably confused by the title. And
yet it is a poignant story of an altruistic man who is victimized by futuristic
technology. The protagonist of The Groundstar
Conspiracy (1972) also endures tremendous suffering from another type of
futuristic technology. The future of the aforementioned 1984 (1956) is extremely frightening because it depicts a world in
which a sweet-looking child will betray her own father to be tortured and
perhaps killed.
I
am hoping that this book will encourage people, including some of you who are
reading this, to view these movies. They are all entertaining and, in some
respects, provocative. For instance, after seeing The Maze (1953), you might actually sympathize with a monstrous amphibian.
If you believe that a brain is lifeless once it is removed from its body, Donovan’s Brain (1953) may change your
mind. You might also discover how fragile our brains are after viewing The Mind Benders (1963), a story about the
cruelty of pitiless scientists. If you view Crack
in the World (1965), you will witness how the earth is almost destroyed by
a scientist with abundant hubris. Upon viewing Journey to the far Side of the Sun (1969), you will witness a benevolent
scientist lose his sanity because of his extraordinary discovery.
There
are moments of pure excitement and suspense as well as pure terror in these
movies. Viewers of Capricorn One
(1977) will inevitably break out in ecstatic applause at the sight of a rickety
biplane suddenly appearing on an isolated desert road. This is the only movie
among the 14 in this book that was a success – with the public if not the
critics. In contrast, The Mummy’s Shroud
(1967) played the bottom-of-the-bill of double features and was unnoticed upon
its release. But I believe it deserves some kind of awareness.
So
I hope that I have piqued your curiosity enough to encourage you to read about
the making of these movies. But even if you choose not to buy the book, for
your own safety, I implore you to please heed this warning: Beware the beat of
the cloth-wrapped feet!
Nick Martin (Joey Travolta, Hollywood Vice Squad, Normal People Scare Me), the leader of
a gang called the Nightcrawlers,dreams
of moving his girlfriend, mother and two brothers out of Sunnyside, Queens, but
becomes involved in a violent war against a rival gang called the Warlocks.
Beautifully directed by Night Gallery’s Timothy Galfas (who also co-wrote the screenplay with
Jeff King from a story by King and Robert Schaffel), and released by American
International Pictures, Sunnyside is
an engaging and entertaining drama/love story that carries an important message.
Although it never reached the popularity of other gang films like Walter Hill’s
The Warriors, Sunnyside is still an extremely well-done movie that I not only
feel is underrated, but that should definitely be seen.
Besides Travolta’s solid and likeable
performance, the movie also features an amazingly talented cast of actors such
as John Lansing (More American Graffiti),
Stacey Pickren (Runaway Train),
Andrew Rubin (Police Academy),
Michael Tucci (Grease), Talia Balsam
(The Kindred), Chris Mulkey (The Hidden), Joan Darling (The Troublemaker), Jonathan Gries (The Monster Squad), Peter Kwong (Big Trouble in Little China), Eric
Laneuville (A Force of One), John
Megna (To Kill a Mockingbird), Thomas
Rosales, Jr. (The Hunter), Mykelti
Williamson (Forrest Gump), John
Alderson (Against All Flags), Grand
Bush (Colors), Billy Jacoby (Bloody Birthday) and Robert Dryer (Savage Streets).
Sunnyside has been released on
a Region 1 Blu-ray and is presented in its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio. The
film looks great and the audio is also superb. Special features include a
terrific interview with actor Chris Mulkey, the original theatrical trailer as
well as trailers for Dirty O’Neil; Checkered Flag or Crash, and Walk Proud.
Roger Corman had, over a relatively short period of time,
directed and/or produced more than a
half-dozen pictures since his entry into the movie industry in 1955.His first efforts were modest successes, but
the filmmaker firmly broke into a dependably bankable stride within two years’
time.Though already having helmed two
low budget science-fiction pictures with some success (Day the World Ended (1955) and It
Conquered the World (1956) his reputation in Hollywood - as a budget-minded
money-spinner - was properly recognized following the box office counting of his
1957 chiller combo: Attack of the Crab
Monsters/Not of This Earth.Variety noted the package – each film made
on a “slenderized bankroll of $85, 000,” had brought in an impressive domestic
gross of $800,000.By early November of
’57, that package, distributed through Allied Artists, had earned back the
entirety of its production and marketing costs within twelve weeks of its release.
Through the remainder of the 1950s and well into the early
1960s, Corman continued to grind out a dizzying array of feature films, not all
of the horror and sci-fi variety: there were plenty of exploitative teenage
rock n’ roll pictures and crime dramas offered as well. But from 1960 through
1964, Corman worked primarily – though not exclusively – producing and directing
an impressive slate of upscale horror classics.He had already given fans such soon-to-be low-budget cult favorites as Bucket of Blood (1959) and Little Shop of Horrors (1960).But in 1960 he more famously scored with House of Usher, the first of his iconic and
moody cycle of Poe and H.P. Lovecraft adaptations - many featuring Vincent
Price in roles as both tormentor and tormented.
One of Corman’s most important collaborators in his early
years was screenwriter Charles B. Griffith.Griffith would receive screenwriting credit – or co-credit – on no fewer
than eight of Corman’s earliest films 1956-59.The writer would later recall for Beast
from Haunted Cave he had been commissioned by Corman to essentially rework
the storyline of an earlier film they had crafted together – Naked Paradise (1957) aka Thunder Over Hawaii.Naked
Paradise, of which Griffith was brought on late to the project for a
re-write, was essentially a South Seas crime-drama set in a pineapple
plantation under the umbrella of a glistening sun.
Since that film had done well enough, Corman wanted to revisit
the scenario of Naked Paradise for the
reimagined crime drama titled Beast from
Haunted Cave.There would be a new
twist: the new scenario was to take place in and around a gold mining community
nestled in the dead winter snow of South Dakota’s Black Hills.Oh, and Corman advised Griffith that he also wanted
a genuine cave-dwelling monster thrown in for good measure - that sort of thing
was still selling.That was essentially
all the background material given to Griffith to get started on the project.
Despite its menacing title Beast from Haunted Cave appears more a crime-drama than horror
flick in the course of its 65-minute running time.The story revolves around the criminal doings
of a circle of bandits: chain-smoking mastermind Alexander Ward (Frank Wolff), his
two minions Marty Jones (Richard Sinatra) and Byron Smith (Wally Campo) and
Ward’s oft- inebriated “secretary” Gypsy Boulet (Sheila Carol).The thieves have gathered in the snow-capped
mountain winter of the pioneer town of Deadwood, South Dakota.Their plan is to plant an explosive in an
abandoned cave in the early hours of a quiet Sunday morning.The explosion is set merely as a strategic
ploy to distract authorities for a time, enabling the thieves’ free reign to
steal gold bars from an unattended payroll office of a local gold-mining
company.
Unfortunately, their plans don’t run smoothly.Ward’s dissatisfied and affection-starved
lover-secretary, Gypsy, has a bit of a drinking problem.She complicates matters when she falls hard for
ski instructor and trail guide Gil Jackson (Michael Forest), a swarthy,
dark-haired gentleman of gentle temperament. (As an aside, I occasionally had a
bit of trouble understanding actress Sheila Carol’s dialogue in this film: her
diction seemed a perplexing amalgam of drunken slurred words and a faux
Katherine Hepburn accent).The cold Ward
takes notice of his woman’s wandering eye but is unworried.He has plans to kill Jackson once the skier -
unwittingly - guides this gaggle of crooks on a cross-country trail run to a
remote location.
Ward had plans to rendezvous with a waiting plane to
ferry his gang - and their misbegotten treasure - off to safe sanctuary in
Canada.But this plan too is scuttled by
an unwelcome blizzard passing through the mountains.(As a second aside, Ward’s cross-country ski scheme
is surely the most ineffectual escape route ever mapped by criminals carrying weighted
gold bars in rucksacks.They really would
have done better just hightailing it out of town in their rented car). To complicate matters further – and this is
where the horror finally comes in - their explosive mine charge has awakened
the titular beast, sort of an upright walking, giant spider that collects his victims
by webbing them against cave walls and drinking their blood at his leisure.Let’s just say the moral of the story is a
familiar one: essentially, crime doesn’t pay.
In Corman’s attempt to make their chilly time in the
Black Hills more productive and worthwhile (i.e. profitable), the filming of Beast was to be produced back-to-back on
location in Deadwood with yet another Charles B. Griffith script, Ski Troop Attack.This second film was to be a somewhat more
ambitious project, a snow-bound WWII action-adventure pitting American
ski-troopers against their wintry Nazi counterparts.The Corman team would use the same primary
on-and off screen talents featured in the cast and credits of Beast for Ski Troop Attack.
The scenario of Ski
Troop Attack referentially takes place in the snow-capped mountains of
Germany’s Hürtgen Forest, circa
December 1944.A small American band of
ski-troopers are the only remaining Allied force active in this Nazi-controlled
region, hiding themselves behind enemy lines so they can spy and report on SS
ski-troop movements.The level-head
Lieutenant Factor (Forest), a graduate of the Army’s Officer Candidate School,
wishes to stay clear of engaging in active combat with the enemy.As the only team of Allied forces positioned
inside the Nazi-controlled German-Belgian border, it is Forest’s belief his
outfit should purposely avoid direct contact.He instead wants to concentrate his efforts on secret reconnaissance
missions.By acting as the covert eyes of
the good guys behind enemy lines, his outfit would be able to transmit vital
information on Nazi troop movements back to HQ.
But Factor is at loggerheads
with tough-talking Sergeant Potter (a mustache-less Wolff, again cast in a
“heavy” role).Potter is described by
Factor as an old school “regular army guy,” a man of pure fighting spirit but someone
strategically short-sighted.Potter desperately
wants to engage the Nazi ski-troopers in active combat and is mostly dismissive
of the Factor’s civilian background and wartime decision-making capabilities.Potter does get a number of chances to engage
in hand-to-hand combat.The film actually
offers no shortage of brutal on screen violence with competing ski-troops ambushing
and beating one another with fisticuffs, rifles butts, bayonets, knives and
machine-gun fire.
Ultimately, the American’s
decide to blow up a strategic railroad bridge that Allied air powers are unable
to access and target.But while
attempting to get to the base of the bridge to set off their detonators, they
must first successfully climb an ice-covered vertical cliff side.If this isn’t problematic or dangerous enough,
they must also fend off a team of six pursuing Nazi ski-troopers hot on their
trail.The German skiing contingent,
incidentally, is led by the badly-dubbed Roger Corman himself.The film’s climactic ending is, somewhat surprisingly
for this type of adventure, more bleak than celebratory.
Griffith’s screenplay is
actually far more nuanced than it is given credit for in the film’s original
round of reviews.The sensitively written
dialogue is mature – the scene where soldier Grammelsbacher (Sinatra) sits
around a campfire musing if somewhere out there there’s still “a bullet with my
name on it” – is particularly gripping.The better written dialogue also brings out better acting performances
of all involved – including Shelia Carol who appears midway through the film as
a spiteful German captive of the Americans.
The film does plod a bit.There’s a lot of wartime newsreel footage
interlaced throughout, and no matter how beautiful the mountain settings are
photographed, there’s far too many time-filling shots of ski-troopers silently
trudging cross-country style through the tundra.Having said that that, there’s also some
well-executed ski chase scenes captured on screen, such action-footage surprising
for a film shot on a threadbare budget.The soundtrack of the film is riddled with the sound of machine-gun fire
and a decent score courtesy of composer Fred Katz – though fans of Corman’s
earliest films will surely recognize a good number of Katz’s recycled musical
motifs are in play.
As both projects were to be shot on tight schedules,
Roger’s brother, Gene, stepped in as the de facto producer of Beast.Once a Hollywood agent, Gene Corman was co-founder (with Roger) of their
company Filmgroup, Inc.Gene’s earliest
entries as producer would include a number of exploitative sci-fi efforts such as
Night of the Blood Beast (1958) and Attack of the Giant Leeches (1959).With Roger set to both produce and direct Ski Troop Attack, the directorial duties of Beast were given to first-timer Monte Hellman - whose only previous
film experience was having worked as an apprentice editor at ABC-TV.
In his entertaining memoir, How I Made a Hundred Movies in Hollywood and Never Lost a Dime
(Random House, 1990), Roger Corman recalled the wintertime location shooting in
and around snowbound Deadwood as “unbearable” and “a very tough
challenge.”When shooting was to
commence on the peak of Mount Terry, Corman recorded temperatures of a frigid thirty-eight
degrees below zero.In the recollection
of script supervisor Kinta Zertuche, her primary job was simply “to find ways
to keep the film warm enough so it wouldn’t get brittle and crack.” She was
also deigned to find ways of keeping the production cameras from freezing – not
always successfully.
Production assistant Paul Rapp recalled he had been
tasked to drive the parsimonious Corman – and an automobile-filled cache of
film props - from Los Angeles to Deadwood, so the director “could save on
airfare and have an extra car on location.”When filming one downhill ski sequence, Corman accidentally set off a
small avalanche by shouting “Action!” too loudly through a bullhorn.Rapp recalled while the incident scared him
half-to-death, Corman quickly realized the potential visual impact of what the
camera was capturing.So the team was
commanded to continue to roll film, Corman exhorting via bullhorn that his terrified
skiers try their best to “Stay Ahead of the Avalanche!”
In March of 1959, there was a trade announcement that
“Corman’s distributing outfit, The Filmgroup,” was planning to release Beast from Haunted Cave nationally (paired
with The Wasp Woman) as early as June
1, with Ski Troop Attack (to be paired
with Task Force 38) a little more
than a month later, July 13.But neither
of those prospective release dates would actually roll out as planned, even
though the films themselves were
ready to roll.Beast would come closest to realizing its projected release date,
appearing on some screens in July 1959.
As early as February of 1960, Variety reported that the steamroller that was Filmgroup was
optimistically planning to roll out eight feature films a month between March
and June of 1960.Ski Troop Attack was to see release on the very tail end of that
schedule. The Hollywood Reporter suggested Filmgroup’s plan as more ambitious
than even originally announced: the company was planning on issuing no less
than twenty-four features over a
year’s period, with eleven of those titles already in the can and ready to go.
The company was also interested in testing international
markets. It was reported that the usually closed-to-outsiders Soviet film
market was interested in importing four Corman titles – including Beast and Ski – assuming whether or not Irving Allen, president of Canada’s
Astral Films, could finalize a deal while visiting London.Later in May of 1960, it was reported
Filmgroup had sealed another deal to distribute eight films – again, including Beast and Ski - throughout the Philippine islands.Finally, in August of 1960, Continental
Distributors would obtain rights of Filmgroup product for European markets.
But the U.S. market was of most concern to the filmmakers.On March 16, 1960, there was a very belated press
screening of the Beast and Wasp combo at the Hollywood Theatre. Variety was generally impressed with Hellman’s
Beast, but suggested the film’s scenario
was completely illogical.The critic
also pondered that perhaps interest in horror films was generally on the
wane.He opined, audiences were growing
“inured to monsters and hardly blink when this one guzzles its customary quota
of blood.”The review of Wasp was likewise middling in
praise.The trade noted, while the film
was certainly an “exploitable” passable entertainment, “it’s pretty slow and not
very frightening.”
The “official” premiere of Beast from Haunted Cave was to take place at dual locations in
South Dakota:Rapid City’s State Theatre
and the Hile-Hi Drive-in outside of Deadwood: the latter venue was to enjoy a
four day night run of Beast beginning
August 2, 1959.This was obviously a nod
of acknowledgment to the folks living in the area of the Black Mountain Hills
who hosted and assisted the film’s production.But no matter how well-intentioned the “premiere” honor, Beast from Haunted Cave and The Wasp Woman had already been
projected on screens in the mid and southwestern U.S. as early as July of ’59.
Earlier that spring, director Gene Corman had written
Allan “Birdie” Arnold of Deadwood’s Chamber of Commerce City Council, a champion
of the film shoot. “We saw a rough cut of our picture, it is very good and I’m
sure everyone who helped, especially you, will be proud and pleased,” Gene
wrote, adding, “I plan to make it a full length picture and hope to release it
in the summer.”For their assistance,
both Arnold and Mayor Ed Keene of Lead, South Dakota, were given “Technical
Advisor” credits on Beast.
In 1984, James Cameron’s immortal classic The Terminator—a film about an almost
unstoppable killer cyborg—was unleashed upon an unsuspecting public and it
quickly became a critical and commercial success. Three years later, Paul
Verhoeven’s Robocop—which told the
story of a seriously wounded police officer being put back together with
robotic parts and brought back to active duty—flooded theater screens and, just
like The Terminator, became a
phenomenal success. That same year saw the release of a low budget, sci-fi
actioner titled Programmed to Kill
which not only borrowed heavily from both films, but also pre-dated 1992’s Universal Soldier; a movie with a
similar plot.
Written by Robert Short and directed by Allan
Holzman, Programmed to Kill tells the
tale of ruthless Middle Eastern terrorist Samira (Sandahl Bergman) who, after
completing a horrible mass shooting at a marketplace in Greece, is stopped and
seriously injured by former CIA agent Eric Matthews (Robert Ginty). Samira is
then taken to the United States where she is transformed into an obedient
cyborg killing machine. Programmed to wipe out her elite team, she is then sent
back to the Middle East. However, after completing her mission, Samira regains
her memory and begins violently assassinating her CIA enemies. Is there anyone
who can stop her out-of-control bionic rampage?
Also known as The Retaliator, Programmed
to Kill is a fun, low-budget 80s action film with a gripping, if
derivative, story; a solid cast and exciting action sequences (well-handled by
director Holzman). At a brief 91minutes, the movie never overstays its welcome.
If, like me, you’re a fan of 80s action flicks, Robert Ginty, Sandahl Bergman
or all three, you won’t be disappointed.
Programmed to Kill has been released on
a Region One Blu-ray and is presented in its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio. The
film’s brand new HD master from a 2K scan of the 35MM interpositive looks
fantastic. The special features include an informative audio commentary by
director Allan Holzman (moderated by filmmaker Douglas Hosdale); an interview
with screenwriter Robert Short; an alternate opening credit, and the theatrical
trailer. The Blu-ray also comes with a very cool-looking slipcover, and
reversible artwork featuring the movie’s alternate title The Retaliator. Fun stuff. Check it out.
The
following press release was received from The History Press.
“The 007
Diaries: Filming Live and Let Die” (Fine Press Edition) By Sir Roger
Moore KBE
9781803992600
240 pages
4 October 2023, £350
· Will
feature a new foreword from actress Madeline Smith (Agent Caruso in Live and
Let Die) as well as an existing foreword by the late, great David Hedison
(Felix Leiter)
· James
Bond is synonymous with luxury, high-end products, and Bond fans typically seek
these out (see 007store.com for examples)
· Live
and Let Die is a much-loved and iconic Bond film, which lends itself to
this format · Will include some more rare images from the filming of Live
and Let Die
· The book will be individually numbered, beautifully produced, complete
with slipcase
Out of
print for over forty years, The 007 Diaries introduces Roger Moore’s
James Bond Diary to a new generation of fans. To tie in with the release of
his first James Bond film, Live and Let Die, Roger Moore agreed to keep
a day-by-day diary throughout the film’s production, which would be published
just ahead of the premiere in July 1973. From his unveiling as the new 007 in
1972 through to his first scenes on location in New Orleans and his final shot
in New York, Moore describes his whirlwind journey as cinema’s most famous
secret agent. Taking in the sights of Jamaica before returning to Pinewood
Studios, Moore’s razor wit and unique brand of humour is ever present. With
tales from every location, including his encounters with his co-stars and key
crew members, Moore offers the reader an unusually candid, amusing and hugely
insightful behind-the-scenes look into the world’s most successful film
franchise.
AUTHOR
DETAILS
SIR ROGER
MOORE KBE had an extraordinary career that spanned seven decades, from early
television to the golden age of Hollywood and on to international superstardom.
Dashing, handsome and every inch the archetypal English gentleman, he was
unforgettable as the title character in The Saint and as Lord Brett Sinclair in
The Persuaders! But it was as James Bond where he made his mark, playing the
most debonair of the 007s in seven blockbusting films.
The fifth
season of 'Icons Unearthed' will focus on Bond, James Bond.
Directed by
Brian Volk-Weiss (The Toys That Made Us, The Movies That Made Us, Behind the
Attraction), Alyssa Michek (Icons Unearthed), and Ben Frost (Icons Unearthed),
the documentary series features exclusive, candid interviews with the people
that helped make the franchise popular.
Appearances
include George Lazenby, Gloria Hendry (who will also narrate the
series), Caroline Munro, Catherine Schell, Terence Mountain, Andreas
Wisniewski, Trina Parks, Vic Armstrong, John Glen, Jeffrey Caine, Norm
Wanstall, Lee Pfeiffer, Ajay Chowdhury, and Matthew Field.
MI6 can
confirm the following episode titles and premiere dates:
Icons
Unearthed: James Bond
Episode 1: A Spy Is Born - Wed, Oct 4, 2023
Episode 2: The Man Who Wouldn't Be King - Wed, Oct 11, 2023
Episode 3: James Bond-Changing Times - Wed, Oct 18, 2023
Produced by The Nacelle Company, 'Icons Unearthed: James
Bond' will broadcast on VICE TV.
Review: Clint Eastwood: The Iconic Filmmaker
and his Work, by Ian Nathan, White Lion Publishing; 1st edition (7 Sept. 2023),
Hardcover, 176 pages.
Clint Eastwood, one of the original stars to
emerge from the ‘cool’ era of the Sixties, continues to demand the status of
cultural icon on a worldwide basis. From the lone man with no name in the
‘Dollar’ movies to Inspector Harry Callahan in the Dirty Harry franchise, bare
knuckle fighter Philo Beddoe to an ageing Korean War veteran in Gran Torino and
The Mule - his roles exemplified an undeniable screen magnetism and a masculine
sense of command.
Eastwood was born in 1930 at Saint Francis
Memorial Hospital in San Francisco. An introverted child (by his own
admission), a personality trait that probably surfaced due to an unsettled
childhood which saw him constantly travelling wherever his father’s work would
take him. He was drafted into the United States Army during the Korean War
where he became a lifeguard at Fort Ord. On his return he made a few appearances
and given minor roles by director Jack Arnold in B pictures such as Revenge of
the Creature and Tarantula. His big break came as Rowdy Yates in the TV Saga Rawhide,
an hour-long western series which ran for over 7 years. It was during Rawhide
that Eastwood accepted an offer to travel to a remote region of Spain in order
to make a low-key western for a relatively unknown director, Sergio Leone. It
turned out to be a smart move on Eastwood’s part and one that would catapult
him to one of the leading lights of Hollywood.
Author and Film Critic Ian Nathan’s new book,
Clint Eastwood, The Iconic Filmmaker and his Work (part of the Iconic
Filmmakers Series) (ISBN-13?: ?978-0711283657),
explores, in detail, Eastwood’s phenomenal Hollywood career as actor, director,
producer and composer. As a leading actor in some of the biggest and most respected
films to hit the cinema screens, Nathan breaks his book down into several
linier chapters which makes for an easy-to-read timeline of events. But the
author has also been smart enough to include other important departures such as
his tenure as Mayor of Carmel and his move into directing. The transcendence
from major box office sensation of the Seventies into more personal film
projects of the Eighties and Nineties is smooth and seamless and never misses a
beat. The book charts his maturity, examining certain myths and more
challenging subjects as a filmmaker. The book explores Eastwood as he gradually
moved more behind the camera as opposed to in front of it while maintaining a
healthy respect from both fans and his peers.
I also like Nathan’s footer timeline.
Appearing at the bottom of certain pages, it works well as a nice guide which
keeps you on track during certain periods of his career. Of course, Eastwood’s
career is long and distinguished, often making editing a real nightmare of a
task. There’s a fine line between examining too deeply or not examining deep enough
– especially in a career spanning nearly 70 years (and counting). But Nathan
gets the balance just about right here. It covers all the important aspects of
a very rich and varied career, and with just the right weight in terms of
detail. I doubt if seasoned fans will find anything particularly new within its
176 pages, but they’ll certainly want to add it to their collection,
regardless. Anyone wishing to examine Eastwood’s career, perhaps for the first
time in book form, couldn’t really go far wrong with this as an entry point.
It’s also lavishly packaged. A solid hardback edition which is also housed
within a matching hardshell slipcase matching that of the book’s cover is as
appealing as they come – and a particularly nice touch - as well as serving as
a great form of protection.
Published by White Lion Publishing and
released on 7th September, 2023 – this book also contains a wealth of
impressive images, from rare posters, production shots and a wonderful
collection of stills ranging from the early Universal years right up to Eastwood’s
latest release, Cry Macho. Overall. it’s
a lavishly detailed publication which I wouldn’t hesitate in recommending. It’s
a book in which everyone involved should feel a genuine sense of pride and
accomplishment. Darren
Allison
The first time that I heard of the name Nat Segaloff was in
1990 when I purchased his new book at the time, Hurricane Billy: The Stormy
Life and Films of William Friedkin. I eagerly read through it in no time as
The French Connection, Mr. Friedkin’s Oscar-winning film for Best
Picture and Best Director among others, is my favorite film. It was his fifth
feature as a director, and it put Mr. Friedkin on the map following the
disappointing box office performance of his first four films. However, the
critical praise and box office success of this real-life-inspired police drama
which contains two of cinema’s greatest action set pieces would not truly
prepare audiences for his follow-up film.
Mr. Friedkin’s The Exorcist, a film adaptation of the
best-selling 1971 William Peter Blatty novel of the same name, opened
theatrically on Wednesday, December 26, 1973 on no less than twenty seven
theater screens, one of which was the Cinema 57 which was part of the Sack Theatre
chain in Boston, MA. Mr. Segaloff was a publicist and was tasked with playing
door guard to a top-secret pre-arranged screening of the film on Christmas
morning to a handful of critics who were there to get their reviews in their
respective papers earlier than usual. This incident is recounted in his preface
to his latest book, The Exorcist Legacy: 50 Years of Fear, the title of
which brings to the forefront the shocking revelation of just how many years
have transpired since Regan MacNeil’s head spun around. The film is something
that I had heard about for years prior to becoming a fan of scary cinema and I
was unsure how much of it was rumor or fact. I recall purchasing The
Exorcist on VHS in February 1986 seven months before I saw The French Connection.
It was in the oversized clamshell box by Warner Home Video and while I was
impressed with it, it did not scare me in the slightest. However, I have spoken
to other people who saw the film in their teenage years and refused to view it
ever again. A September 1996 viewing of the film to a sold-out screening at
Radio City Music Hall, introduced by both lead actress Ellen Burstyn and the
director in-person, solidified the film’s stature as a masterpiece in my mind.
The release of the film on DVD in a 25th anniversary edition whetted
the appetite of those who would see the film theatrically two years later when The
Exorcist: The Version You’ve Never Seen was released which would include
changes and additional footage. The Blu-ray of the film in 2010
in the extended director’s cut was by no means the final word, as in 2013 a 40th anniversary
Blu-ray added a nice documentary and extended interviews with the author. Just
in time for the 50th anniversary, the film is now bowing in 4K UHD.
Following a foreword by John A. Russo of Night of the
Living Dead fame, Mr. Segaloff begins his book, which is comprised of
sixteen chapters and lasting just over three hundred pages in length, from the
correct presumption that the film is a misunderstood classic. He agrees with
the assessment by both Mr. Blatty and Mr. Friedkin that the film is many things
except the horror film that it is widely revered as since the time of its
release, though audiences have other opinions. We are treated to many interesting
tidbits: the hilarious story of how Mr. Friedkin met Mr. Blatty and how the
former’s honesty solidified a working relationship and lifelong friendship with
the latter, with Mr. Friedkin being the sole director that Mr. Blatty wanted
from the get-go; Warner Brothers’ initial reluctance to hire Mr. Friedkin until
the release of his brilliant The French Connection in 1971 garnered
sudden critical and financial success and changed the game completely; the
original 1949 real-life case of a young possessed Maryland boy; Mr. Blatty’s
writing of the novel; the making of the film; a multitude of issues that beset
the film’s production giving way to the supposed “curse” on the set; the
controversy surrounding the release of the film; in-depth looks at the much-maligned
Exorcist II: The Heretic (1977) and the superior The Exorcist III
(1990), the latter both written and directed by Blatty; the prequels and
television series, and the little-known The Ninth Configuration. If
you’re even just a passing fan of the film, the book is a must read.
Mr. Segaloff was gracious enough to speak with me from his
home in Los Angeles by phone regarding the book. Unfortunately, the day I
contacted him about the interview was the same day that Mr. Friedkin had passed
away, a fact that I was unaware of until an hour later. Mr. Segaloff wanted to
press on with the interview, however, which amazed me as he knew Mr. Friedkin
for nearly fifty years.
Todd Garbarini: Where are you from originally?
Nat Segaloff: I was born in Washington, D.C., and
raised in Silver Spring, Maryland, which is a good long way from Cottage City,
Maryland, where that little boy was possessed in 1949. We were not possessed in
Silver Spring. Silver Spring was a very strange place. It was the nation’s
largest unincorporated city, about one hundred thousand people, and nobody
taking out the garbage.
I was able to leave and go to school in Boston, and there, I
not only ran the major movie program on campus, I also insinuated myself into
both the city’s professional film scene and the then-burgeoning underground
film scene. Of course, we’re talking the 1960’s.
When I graduated from college, I started doing publicity for
the film companies in town and, after a while, moved to New York to do it
there, then moved back to Boston and became a critic. All of that served as
fodder for the books I’ve written and for the people I’ve met because I’m a
kind of a demimonde. A lot of people remembered me from when I was a publicist,
but then when I became a reporter, they thought I was still a publicist, and
they trusted me. It’s a very odd combination, and I sometimes had to tell
people, “You know, I’m a reporter now.” I was able to keep close to a lot of
people that I’d met doing publicity, like Robert Altman, James Bridges, Paul Mazursky,
and John Milius.
TG: A lot of people I’ve spoken with who
work in the film industry didn’t go to the movies or even see films on
television until they were much older. Did you do the same thing, or did you
get into them later?
NS: Back when I was a pod, the only way to
see an old movie was on late-night television. I stayed up till one-thirty in
the morning to view The Jazz Singer on Washington television because
there was no way I was otherwise going to see it. There was no video, and you
couldn’t even rent a 16-millimeter print of it. Later, there were revival
theaters in Washington where I attended occasionally, but you still had to wait
for something to appear. Only when I went away to school and ran the film
program was I seeing movies every weekend, because I had to make sure people
weren’t smoking in the theater. That was my job. I was managing the campus
theater. I saw a lot of movies in class and in theaters, and it was wonderful.
Between that and being a critic, I must have spent thirty years watching a
couple of movies a week, and then I just burned out completely.
TG: As much as I love watching movies, I
don’t know that I would be able to do that! Do you have an all-time favorite
movie?
NS: The easy answer is Citizen Kane.
It certainly is the source of so much inspiration and technique for everybody
who makes movies. I don’t think it’s possible to cite one particular film.
Whatever pleases you at the time that you’re open to, it’s a film that becomes
your favorite. I also like His Girl Friday. No connection between those,
except they’re both about newspapers.
TG: Are you drawn to movies about reporters
and publicists?
NS: It turns out that I am drawn to
movies about reporters. Certainly, Sam Fuller’s Park Row is a movie that
makes me cry, not because it’s sad, but because it reminds me of the days when
I was writing for real newspapers. No, I don’t find myself glomming onto any
particular kind of film, be it science fiction, horror, drama, musical, or
anything else. I just like a good movie.
TG: So, you don’t consider yourself partial
to certain genres?
NS: I think that so many genres,
particularly horror or suspense films, seem to have a playbook, and I don’t
like films that go where you know they’re going to go. I remember something
Jonathan Demme said about the script for his film Something Wild. He
said you literally didn’t know from one page to the next what was going to
happen. I like to see that on the screen. I like films that have what I call an
“Oh, shit!” moment. The first one I remember was, of course, 2001: A Space
Odyssey, just before the intermission, when we realized that HAL was
reading the astronauts’ lips, and that was the moment where the whole audience sort
of exclaimed, “Oh, shit!” [laughs]. There are also other movies like A
Beautiful Mind with that kind of moment, or a movie that very few people
remember that Stephen Fears made called Dirty Pretty Things.
TG: Yes, that’s with Audrey Tautou from Amelie.
NS: Yes. I was watching it in a small
theater, and not only did we all say, “Oh, shit,” but we all stayed through the
credits and then stood up and congratulated each other after the movie for
seeing that film.
TG: You’ve written and published a good
number of books on The Towering Inferno, the Scarface films, the
Hollywood Code, John Milius, William Friedkin and Harlan Ellison. Your latest
book, The Exorcist Legacy: 50 Years of Fear, is quite an accomplishment.
It begins on Christmas Day in 1973. You were working for the Sack Cinema 57 on
Stuart Street in Boston.
NS: Yes. I was their publicity director in
1973 when The Exorcist was scheduled to be released on Wednesday,
December 26th. One of our critics, Stuart Byron, who knew the
industry really well, was able to inveigle William Friedkin to permit a
day-before screening so that the weekly papers, which catered to the young
audience, would be able to meet their deadlines. So, I hosted this greeting of The
Exorcist on Christmas morning.
For some reason, the critics had no problem leaving the
bosom of their families to come and see a movie about a little girl whose head
spins around. I didn’t see the movie that day. I was standing in the lobby
guarding the door so the people who weren’t invited couldn’t get in. Nobody got
sick. We didn’t know we were supposed to throw up. Of course, the Technicolor
yawns began the very next day.
TG: Did you have any inkling what that film
was like? Based upon the lobby cards, the marketing of the film by Warner
Brothers, did you have any idea what was going on behind those doors?
NS: I had no idea what was going to be
going on, “on this street in that house in a little girl’s bedroom.” [laughs]
I had read the book, of course. The only glimpse we had was a teaser trailer
that went 30 seconds with the narration I just did for you. It was simply a
shot of the poster of Max von Sydow standing outside of the house. That’s all
anybody knew. There were no pictures, nothing. In fact, there was an embargo on
anything from the film. I think it was either Time or Newsweek
who ended up sued by Warner Brothers because somebody sneaked into the theater
and got a picture of Regan in makeup and ran it. That was considered a breach
of copyright, a very secret thing. The audiences, as you know, would file out
ashen. The audiences waiting to get in would know that something weird was
going on in there, and it became an emotional rollercoaster for them.
TG: Now, I of course, didn’t live through
this. Was this a similar reaction like when Psycho came out? Psycho
had been a novel first, and then the film was released and it was all
hush-hush, “don’t give away the ending.”
NS: I wasn’t old enough to see Psycho
when it came out. I do know, of course, that Hitchcock specified that nobody be
allowed in once the film had started. That made a certain groundswell of public
opinion. The film that was closest to The Exorcist when I was that age
was Night of the Living Dead, which had a reputation for being gross,
scary, and horrifying. The fact that it was shown at midnight to a bunch of
kids who were probably high made additional impressions on people. A black and
white film with blurry pictures from an indie source in Pittsburgh was not the
same thing as a beautifully photographed color film from Warner Brothers.
Incidentally, John Russo, who co-wrote Night of the Living Dead, wrote
the forward to The Exorcist Legacy.
TG: What was your introduction to William
Friedkin’s work? Had you seen any of his previous films?
NS: I had seen The Birthday Party.
It was on a sneak preview where Walter
Reade’s Continental Releasing was trying to get a booking for it, and I
saw it in Boston. That wasn’t the film that I was there to see. The Birthday
Party was just stunning. Robert Shaw, Patrick Magee, I mean, just a
beautifully contained job. I’d also seen The Night They Raided Minsky’s,
and thought it was lovely, but I didn’t really realize it was a William
Friedkin film. I had missed Good Times with Sonny and Cher, which I’ve
seen since then. Then of course, The French Connection came out. I was
late seeing The Boys in the Band because I was in school at the time
when it played in theaters. I caught it later. The French Connection
naturally was the one that galvanized everybody. In fact, at the theater that
showed it in Boston, which is where I was working at the time, people would
come in early when they knew that the car chase was going to start, and they’d
see the chase and stay through to watch the film all through again so they
could get in and see the chase twice. We had to clear the theater. It was
remarkable with that on a huge screen. The vertigo was just phenomenal. It was
just a staggering effect because I don’t think anybody had ever mounted a
camera on the bumper of a car before Billy did it.
TG: That’s what blows me away about his
cinema. He did things that we had never seen before.
NS: Yes, including racing through the
streets of New York without permits. Randy Jurgensen will tell you one thing.
Sonny Grosso would tell another. Billy Friedkin would tell you something else. There’s
no agreement. From what I understand, and I trust Randy, is that they simply
ran the car. They didn’t have any siren on the car to warn people because, as
Randy said, if you put a siren on the car, people look at the car and they don’t
want people looking at the car. Billy sat in the back, Bill Hickman drove, and
they just tore ass through Brooklyn. If anybody stopped them, Randy said he’d
just flash his badge saying, “Fellow officer, let us go.” You could do that
then. You could get away with it.
TG: So much of what you could get away
with, you can’t do now because of small security cameras and the Internet.
NS: Yes. We’re living, as John Milius said,
under the booted foot of the lifeguard state.
TG: How did this book about The Exorcist
Legacy come about? When did you start thinking about it? Had it been
something gestating in your mind for some years? Had you started writing it a
long time ago in anticipation of the 50th anniversary?
NS: I could tell you my publicity line,
which is that I’ve been possessed by The Exorcist for 50 years, but in
fact, I’d acquired a wonderful new agent, Lee Sobel, at the end of 2020. We
were thinking what kind of books we could possibly sell. Anniversary books
seemed to work well. What film was having a 25th, a 40th, or a 50th
anniversary? We figured, well, with a year and a half or two of lead time, that
makes it 2023. I said, “The Exorcist is going to be 50.” Bang, he sold
it in a matter of days.
TG: Did you approach John Russo
specifically to do the forward?
NS: John Russo was approached by my editor,
James Abbate, who knows him and has worked with him. He very graciously did the
forward to the book.
TG: Yes, John is very nice. I go to horror
conventions that they have and most of the cast of my favorite horror films
come and speak about them. Night of the Living Dead was one of them. I
got to meet John there and talk with him at length about the films and all. I
just love the behind-the-scenes stories that you haven’t read and haven’t been
published. It gives you a real look into the film, a new appreciation, of the
movie, whatever that movie may be.
NS: There are some very good people out
there. The great thing about writers is that we tend to help each other.
Whenever I need an author’s query or information, it’s always the writers who
come through first, like yourself.
TG: As far as TheExorcist Legacy
is concerned, who was the first person you spoke to? Did you go straight to
Billy?
NS: I didn’t go to Billy at all for The
Exorcist Legacy. There was a reason for that, which is that I had all the
answers I needed back in 1988 to 1990 when I wrote his biography. In those
days, The Exorcist was merely a hit. It wasn’t a classic yet. The
stories, I believe, were closer to the source. I also had the good fortune to
speak to Ellen Burstyn, whom I adore, and who I believe is our finest American
actress of our generation.
TG: I agree, she’s phenomenal.
NS: She’s amazing. I had spoken to William
Peter Blatty at great length. We’d been friends and kept in touch over the
years. A lot of his material in the book is material that I could not publish
while he was alive. He was very frank about his relationship with film studios.
As he hand-wrote on the side of a transcript that I sent him for approval, as
you do, he said, “Nat, don’t print this. I’ve got enough problems.” He was a
warm, funny, and wonderful man.I’ve become friends with his oldest son,
Mike, since the book came out. In fact, I saw him at a signing the other day.
He happened to be in town. I’m very happy to keep up my connection with the
Blatty family.
TG: Oh, sure. Whom did you speak to at
great length for the book?
NS: I did it two years ago and it was with
Terry Donnelly, who was the first assistant director and unit manager. I had
worked on a film with Terry years ago. We picked up where we left off and he
was able to tell me about the behind-the-scenes facets. I spoke to Craig McKay,
who is a film editor. He cut TheSilence of the Lambs among other
films. He’s very good. He was a kid when he was starting out on The Exorcist,
there to pick up pieces. He had some wonderful stories. I did speak to Jeremy
Slater, who was the showrunner for the Exorcist television series, and
of course, David Gordon Green, who has a new Exorcist film coming out. I
had a lot of the material from when I wrote Hurricane Billy (Billy’s
biography). I was able to use that. What can I say, covering all these films,
two sequels, two prequels, and each of them was recut? It was a lot to write
about.
TG: How do you keep track in your head just
of all these different versions of these movies? As much as I love films, I
really find it so hard to be able to keep track of the director’s cut, or the
original cut, and this one runs this number of minutes, etc. I’ve always
admired Tim Lucas’s review of movies in Video Watchdog for that reason
because it’s encyclopedic, the amount of information that he has on all these
films and how he would do all the video comparisons. How did you find doing
that? Was that something that came easily to you because you had seen the film
so many times in different versions?
NS: Tim Lucas is one of the people in the
book, as is Mark Kermode. We’ve known each other for so many years that we don’t
even think about it. With the different versions of The Exorcist, which
I’m not very happy with, I guess, three of them, or maybe four, depending on if
you count one of them twice, I think the original is the best version, except
for a couple of scenes that are put in “The Version You’ve Never Seen,” so it’s
very hard. I would like to do my own fan edit, but I think I’ve watched The
Exorcist enough by now.
TG: Was there anybody you wanted to
interview for this book whom you weren’t able to interview because they either passed
away or you were unable to contact?
NS: Linda Blair.
TG: What was the first Billy Friedkin film
that you were on the set of?
NS: The Brink’s Job
in the summer of 1978. I was there for Evening Magazine, which was the
version of PM Magazine that was run on the stations that were owned by
Westinghouse.
TG: Oh, I remember PM Magazine. That’s
where I first saw Matt Lauer.
NS: Billy allowed our cameras on the set,
which is funny because he just kicked the publicity cameras for Paramount and Universal
off the set, and he let us on. We had wonderful footage of Peter Falk and the
cast. Dean Tavoularis had done a reconstruction of the Brink’s system as it was
in 1951 when the robbery took place. It was a magnificent set. There was an
incident where some local tough guys broke into the editing offices, took
footage, and wanted to hold it for ransom to shake down the production. As it
happened, I had the only footage of Brink’s and I was with a TV station, but I
couldn’t get my TV station to run their own footage because we had shot
non-union. That was Westinghouse. That’s why they’re not around anymore. Westinghouse
was the Pazuzu of television. I was also on the set of one of Billy’s films in
Montreal when I was writing the book (the 1988 TV-movie C.A.T. Squad: Python
Wolf). You don’t learn a whole lot on a set. William Goldman is right. The
most exciting day of your life is your first day on a movie set, and the most
boring day of your life is your second day on a movie set.
TG: I’ve seen a handful of films being shot.
It’s fairly boring, I must say.
NS: I will correct you on one thing. Billy
Friedkin didn’t allow chairs on his sets. You stand around.
TG: Christopher Nolan is like that. He
doesn’t allow them either.
NS: He’s right! James Cameron has a nail
gun (like in No Country for Old Men), and if anybody’s cell phone rings,
he nails it to a prop.
TG: Holy Jeez! Is there anything that I
haven’t covered that you wanted to say about the book?
NS: The book goes into not just the
original Exorcist, but the sequels and prequels. That’s something that
people don’t consider because nobody ever intended The Exorcist to be a
franchise. It became a franchise when Morgan Creek bought the rights from Bill
Blatty, and they are now trying to revive it, of course, with the October
release of The Exorcist:Believer.
TG: Have you seen that?
NS: No, I haven’t seen it yet. I’m looking
forward to it. I do know that I really like David Gordon Green, who was very
kind to me. He probably shouldn’t have been talking about the film. He did
because I had a year and a half lead time for the book, and it’s in there. I
was disappointed in the prequel, both Dominion, which was Paul Schrader’s
version, and Exorcist: The Beginning, which was Renny Harlin’s. Although
I think there’s a lot in Paul Schrader’s version, I’ve been saying the
difference between them is that Paul Schrader made a film where Renny Harlan
made a movie. I think that both films had trouble because people expect an
exorcism Exorcist movie and what they got was CGI. That’s not the same
thing. CGI is not the real thing. That’s what distinguishes The Exorcist;
what made The Exorcist work was that it was real. The things that
happened in front of the camera actually happened. Linda Blair really floated,
the bed really shook, doors really cracked, things really fell over. Curtains
really blew on closed windows. They didn’t happen because anybody was
possessed. They happened because Dick Smith created brilliant makeup and Marcel
Vercoutere had incredibly complicated mechanical effects, but they all happened
in front of the camera so that it looked real. That’s the documentary nature of
Billy’s filmmaking and why he believes in reality. That, I believe, will be his
ultimate legacy on film, which is that he made the movies look real. Of course,
now most of the movies look like fantasy. We’ve lost that.
TG: Yes. Steven Spielberg would agree with
that statement. He likes to see everything real in front of the camera. He does
realize that in today’s day and age, you do have to use computer graphics, and
that’s really came to fruition with Jurassic Park. Before that, he wondered
how they were going to make the dinosaurs run.
NS: It’s true. He tried stop motion, but he
didn’t want to make Jurassic Park until he could do it right. Not
everybody has that. They’ll say, “Well, the audience won’t know.” No, no, they know.
The audience doesn’t know what’s called the uncanny valley, but it is the
uncanny valley.
TG: I want to thank you very, very much for
taking the time to speak with me about the book.
NS: Thank you so much. I do want to say something about
Billy who, as you know, died just twenty-two days shy of his 88th birthday. He
was a friend for fifty years and an inspiration, not just for his films, but
for his personality: he didn’t cotton to bullshit which, of course, is the coin
of the realm in Hollywood. Billy was a very brave man because I can’t think of
many other directors, except maybe Brian De Palma, who let somebody write a
book about them while they were still working. He did that for me and launched
my career as a writer. I love him and I miss him. And thank you, Todd and
Cinema Retro, for giving me the chance to say that on the record.
Filmmaker
Nicolas Roeg always managed to challenge cinematic norms. Even his most
accessible and popular film, Don’t Look Now (1973), still had what some
might call “arty” shots and experimental editing. Roeg was a director who loved
the images the camera caught, but he also enjoyed manipulating the narrative of
his pictures with the kind of radical editing likely inspired by the French New
Wave, but probably more by the so-called New American Cinema movement that included
revolutionary filmmakers such as Andy Warhol, Stan Brakhage, and others.
Roeg
began his work in film as a cinematographer—and a very good one, too (second
unit on Lawrence of Arabia, The Masque of the Red Death, Far
from the Madding Crowd, and more). After a co-directing (with Donald
Cammell) debut of Performance (1970), Roeg struck out on his own and
made a name for himself as a director of provocative art house fare.
First
out of the gate was Walkabout (1971). It was Australia’s official entry
to the Cannes Film Festival that year, despite it being primarily a British
production (and Roeg himself being English). It was based on the 1959 novel by
James Vance Marshall (a pseudonym of Donald G. Payne), which was first
published as The Children but subsequently renamed Walkabout.
Roeg had apparently wanted to adapt the book into a film for years, and he
finally got the chance to do it with only a million dollar budget. Producers
Max L. Raab and Si Litvinoff (both known primarily as executive producers of
Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange, because they had initially owned the film
rights) provided the funding for what was essentially an independent
production, eventually released by 20th Century Fox. Playwright Edward Bond wrote
a treatment that acted as the screenplay, but most of the picture was
improvised on the go.
Taking
a minimal crew and a cast of unknowns into the Australian outback, Roeg gave us
a haunting, enigmatic, gorgeous-to-look-at, existential treatise on innocence,
the loss of it, and the importance of communication.
“Girl”
(a young Jenny Agutter, who was sixteen when the film was made) and “White Boy”
(Nicolas Roeg’s son Luc Roeg, credited as Lucien John, who was age seven during
production) are siblings who live what appear to be “normal” lives with their
parents in Sydney. One nice, sunny day, “Father” (John Meillon), takes the two
children to the desert for a picnic. There, he attempts to shoot them, but Girl
protects her younger brother and they hide. Father kills himself and sets the
family car on fire. The two kids are now stranded in the outback. Lacking
survival skills, they manage to make it through a few days (but time is never
clear in the film). Then they meet a young “Black Boy” (Australian and Yolngu
actor David Gulpilil, whose age was unknown at the time but since estimated to
be about eighteen when cast) who is out in the wilderness alone. He befriends
the two, regardless of a language barrier, and effectively saves the white
kids’ lives by teaching them how to find water and hunt for game to eat. Interestingly,
it is White Boy who is able to communicate with Black Boy through mime and
playful gestures; Girl seems to be at sea when dealing with the human who is
totally foreign to her. Days pass as the trio travels across the striking
landscape, culminating in a moment in which the physical adolescence of Girl
and Black Boy follow a natural course to sexual tension. Black Boy performs his
native “courtship ritual” dance in tribal makeup and clothing for Girl. Not
understanding what he’s doing and fearful of him, Girl rejects him. Revealing
the rest of the tale would certainly be a spoiler.
A
“walkabout” is a rite of passage in Australian Aboriginal society. Adolescent
males must spend six months in the wilderness and survive—or not—to became an
adult. Hence, while Black Boy is likely enacting his own walkabout, the film
becomes a walkabout for Girl and White Boy. There’s a lot going on underneath
the surface here, including an examination of race and class differences in a
land where the British Empire encroached on an indigenous people, sexual mores
and taboos, and how one’s social environment dictates how one behaves.
Walkabout
is a
fascinating film, and it was highly praised by critics upon release—but, sadly,
it was a box office failure. It has since become a cult classic and a cinephile
favorite. There was some criticism (still is) of the picture’s display of
nudity of all three leads, seeing that, technically, Agutter and young Roeg
were underage. Some bits were cut for the initial release, but footage was
restored in the 1990s. The British Board of Film Classification, though,
determined that the film was not “indecent.” Agutter herself has contemporarily
defended the nude scenes and says that they are essential to the themes of the
movie.
The
Criterion Collection released the film on DVD and Blu-ray years ago, but now
the company has issued a new 4K UHD edition containing two discs. A 4K UHD digital
master in Dolby Vision HDR occupies the first disc, while a Blu-ray of the film
plus special features are on the second. The visuals are, naturally, stunning. An
audio commentary featuring both Nicolas Roeg and Jenny Agutter accompanies the
film. Special features include vintage interviews with Luc Roeg and Agutter, an
hour long documentary on the life and career of David Gulpilil, and the
theatrical trailer. An essay by author Paul Ryan is in the booklet.
With
John Barry’s lush score, Roeg’s own striking cinematography, the sweeping
panoramas of the Australian outback, and the likable, honest performances by
the cast, Walkabout is a highly recommended must-see.
We film collectors are a spoiled lot: and, yes, I include
myself in that assessment.When Australian
video label Imprint first announced their seminal Silver Screams Cinema collection in 2021, I was ecstatic.Though the now defunct U.S. based Olive Films
had already given us Blu-rays of three titles soon-to-be featured on the
Imprint set (Return of the Ape Man
(Monogram, 1944) She Devil (1957) and
The Vampire’s Ghost (Republic, 1945),
it was the Aussie’s inclusion of several long-neglected films from the vault of
Republic Pictures - Valley of the Zombies
(1946), The Phantom Speaks (1945) and
The Lady and the Monster (1944) -
that compelled one to pre-order.
The Imprint set contained almost every title a fan of
Republic’s horror-mystery offerings might desire… with one notable
exception.Where was Lesley Selander’s The Catman of Paris (1946)? It was the
one Republic horror flick I had been wishing on the longest.Decades ago I gave up hope of ever seeing any
sort of legitimate home video issue. So I sought out the serviceable – if scratchy
and hazy - gray-market bootleg long making the rounds on the collector’s market.So the exclusion of The Catman of Paris from Imprint’s otherwise magnificent Silver Screams set was a bit
frustrating.
So it was with great anticipation when Imprint’s
single-disc Blu-ray of The Catman of
Paris recently arrived.I’m pleased
to report that the release not only looks great but also arrives with a couple
of bonus features.But while this film’s
arrival on Blu-ray brings with it a satisfying sense of closure, I think it’s best
to acknowledge that The Catman of Paris
is by no means a riveting lost classic of horror cinema.Though the film holds a certain charm in my personal
nostalgia bank, The Catman of Paris often
plods along for most of its hour or so running time.But I’m still a fan.
Republic Pictures was, of course - unfairly, in my mind –
deemed a Hollywood “Poverty Row” studio.But the production values of the studio were often of high-caliber
despite meager budgets, the studio producing more than a thousand features and
serials from its inception in 1935.Though associated with Monogram Pictures – a purveyor of a number of
1940s low-rent horror and mystery pictures (which often featured the likes of
genre stars Bela Lugosi, George Zucco, Lionel Atwill and John Carradine),
Republic was late in getting on the exploitative horror-film train.I suppose it can be argued that they nearly missed
the train entirely.The studio only really
began to test the horror-picture market when public interest in such fare was clearly
on the wane.
But the studio’s first horror pic The Lady and the Monster (1944), featuring Erich von Stroheim as a cold
and humorless mad scientist, did well enough for the studio to greenlight a
double-dose of new horror in 1945:The Vampire’s Ghost and The Phantom Speaks – two films which
we’ll get to in a moment.Generally
speaking, the Republic horrors were of similar construct to Monogram’s.But unlike the Monogram films – which have
been mostly available over the years on home video due to their public domain
status – the Republic horror pics have been, until recently, almost entirely commercially
inaccessible to students of the genre.
It’s possible the Republic horror pics have been glossed
over due to the fact that, unlike the studio’s western film counterparts – which
featured such star-spangled stars as Gene Autry, Roy Rogers and John Wayne –
their horror pics offered no similar
marquee attraction.Perhaps if the
Republic horror and mysteries features offered such boogeymen as Lugosi or Boris
Karloff there might have been more of a commercial interest in getting these
out to fans and collectors.But
Paramount Pictures, the company that ultimately absorbed the Republic catalog,
seemed mostly disinterested in making available that studio’s horror film efforts.
To be fair, Republic wasn’t Universal: there actually wasn’t
a great deal of true “horrors” to choose from.In 1999, film historian Tom Weaver examined some of the Republic titles
in his tome Poverty Row Horrors!:
Monogram, PRC, and Republic Horror Films of the Forties (MacFarland).A decade- and -a -half later author Brian McFadden
published his Republic Horrors: The
Serial Studio’s Chillers.Both books
were welcome additions to the film scholar’s personal libraries.But while McFadden’s effort seemed to promise
a deeper-dive into the Republic’s long-neglected horror catalog, it mostly reminded
readers that the studio actually released very few true horror pictures during the Golden Age of the 1940s.Of the ten films chosen for examination by McFadden,
only five could justify being classified as genuine “horrors.”The remaining five titles selected were simply
mysteries with woven eerie elements.
But if Universal’s reign as the preeminent horror-movie
studio was beginning to wind down by the mid-1940s, Republic’s was just
beginning to rev up.In early May of
1945, the Los Angeles Times reported
that executives at Republic Pictures, “encouraged by the current success of The Vampire’s Ghost and The Phantom Speaks,” were already planning
a pair of thrillers of similar design.Under the watchful eye of producer William O’ Sullivan, Republic’s
newest horror pics, titled The Catman of
Paris and The Valley of the Zombies,
was to “be sold to exhibitors as a pair.”
Associate producer Marek M. Libkov told the Hollywood Reporter that their newest, The Catman of Paris, would have a
provisional start date of September 20, 1945 with casting to “start
immediately.”In fact, most of the
principal casting was already in
place by early September, though casting notices for small roles were still being
announced as late as October 5.It was also
later reported that the film’s start date would be pushed to September 22.The film’s presumed co-feature – Phil Ford’s Valley of the Zombies – was already just
shy of two weeks into production with production on The Catman of Paris set to follow immediately on its heels.But even the revised start date of September
22 is in doubt.On September 24, 1945,
the Los Angeles Times noted
production on Lesley Selander’s The
Catman of Paris was, at long last, to start “today at Republic.”
It’s of some interest that the two primary cast members
of The Catman of Paris, Carl Esmond
and Lenore Aubert, were both born in Vienna, Austria.Though neither had ever appeared in a horror
film, both already would share near-miss flirtations with real-life
horrors.Esmond left for the U.S. as
early as 1938 at the behest of MGM’s Louis B. Mayer.The actor had been performing with a touring
company in London when Nazi troops swept into Austria in March of 1938.Esmond reflected to Hollywood scribe Maxine
Garrison that Mayer dangled an MGM contract before him, warning ‘You would be
foolish not to come [to America].Europe
will be lost in war before long.”Esmond
admitted, “I had not thought of it that way, but he was right.”
Aubert too left Vienna, choosing travel to Paris.But with German troops already occupying the
City of Light, the actress also made the decision to immigrate to America.(Ironically, Aubert’s first screen credit was
for a performance as a villainous Nazi spy for Samuel Goldwyn’s They Got Me Covered (1943), an early Bob
Hope and Dorothy Lamour comedy).Though
not a household name to most cinephiles, the darkly beautiful Aubert is likely
best remembered for her performance as the sinister Dr. Mornay in the
time-tested Universal classic Abbott and
Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948).
The Hollywood trades were reporting a lot of activity on
the Republic Studios lot that first week of October of 1945… but most interest
was fixed on producer-director Frank Borsage’s ambitious and expensive Technicolor
effort Concerto.But a wandering journalist noted that only
“two stages away,” Republic’s dual monochrome horror pics, The Catman of Paris and Valley
of the Zombies, were being shot concurrently for a provisional
double-feature release.“On both sets,
the visitor must have nerves of steel,” it was reported, “to withstand sudden
appearances of perambulating cat people and corpses.”
By Thursday, October 11, 1945, the Hollywood Reporter noted that production on The Catman of Paris had wrapped on the night previous, when
“final exterior scenes were filmed on the studio’s back lot.” The report also indicated
that co-feature Valley of the Zombies
had finished shooting a mere “one day before Republic started rolling Selander’s
picture.”If true, the earlier reportage
of dual-picture sightings of “perambulating cat people and corpses” was little
more than promotional ballyhoo.
So who was this sinister cinematic Catman of Paris? Parisian police detectives are of the belief
that it’s none other than the best-selling, dashingly handsome French novelist
Charles Regnier (Carl Esmond).The
popular-selling author has recently returned to Paris following two years of
international travel – including a possibly fateful visit to the tropics.Not everyone has enjoyed his most recent
book.Regnier’s fiction-novel Fraudulent Justice has come to the
attention – and annoyance – of the French government.It seems Regnier’s narrative appears to have
been based on a true-life crime and trial: the details of which were never brought
to public scrutiny and the judicial outcome now thought a travesty of
justice.So how was it that Regnier
could accurately account so much about a secretive government trial?
Regnier has also returned to Paris to wrestle other demons.The writer suffers headaches which bring
about unexplainable subsequent episodes of amnesia.During such sessions Regnier is visited by
images of violent weather disturbances and of a mysterious black cat.Regnier’s moneyed patron, Henri Borchard
(Douglas Dumbrille), suggests Regnier’s fragile mental state is due to his having
contracted some sort of fever when visiting the tropics.There’s also a measure of astrological hokum
in the scripting mix as well.
Both Bouchard and Regnier’s publisher Paul Audet (Francis
Pierlot) are concerned that following two gruesome murders of which Regnier is
at least tangentially involved, the author’s book sales might plummet and
bankrupt the publishing house.And circumstantial
evidence of Regnier’s involvement in the murders continues to mount.The Catman’s most recent victim - Regnier’s
high-society fiancé Marguerite Duvall (Adele Mara), was recently jilted so the
author might enjoy a new romance with publisher’s daughter Marie (Lenore
Aubert).Having completely fallen for
the dashing author, Marie Audet is completely convinced of Regnier’s innocence…
until she herself is chased through a misty evening garden by a cloak and
top-hatted Catman on the prowl for her blood.
Though the film would eventually pair with Valley of the Zombies, The Catman of Paris was initially paired
on release with John English’s somewhat better-received ice-skating
musical-mystery Murder in the Music Hall.The first wave of reviews of The Catman of Paris were generally fair -
if mostly unfavorable.The Hollywood Reporter ignobly described the
film as an “absurdity,” a career embarrassments to all involved.The lugubrious screenplay of Republic scenarist
Sherman L. Lowe was decried as far too “wordy… every character uttering
editorials instead of dialog.”
There were complaints – also not unfair - that the film
displayed a curious lack of “physical action.”Variety was a bit more forgiving in its assessment,
calling the Valentine’s Day preview of The
Catman of Paris “a cross between a garden-variety whodunit and a
Jekyll-Hyde horror-meller […] that taxes belief to the breaking point.”The Christian
Science Monitor dismissed the film outright as a “routine horror story
based on far-fetched thrills.”
Despite the lukewarm reviews of both Murder in the Music Hall and The
Catman of Paris, the package managed a successful earning of $35,000 in its
first week.Which, at the very least, guaranteed
a second week of booking.Republic, presumptively
optimistic and encouraged by strong initial returns, inked producer Libkov to a
contract of three additional pictures. Though there was the inevitable revenue
fall-off in the second week of release, the trades were reporting box office
tallies in and around Los Angeles remained “good” if not showing signs of
sustained momentum. But by week three,
the box office receipts were down to disappointing four figure earnings.As the Catman
creeped regionally across the U.S. through autumn of 1946, local reviewers and small-town
theater managers found the film a mild mystery offering at best.Subsequently, four-figure weekly returns were
now the norm.
Frank
Sinatra made his directorial debut with the World War II drama “None But the
Brave,” available on Blu-ray via the Warner Archive Collection. An American C-47
carrying Marines and a Navy Corpsman, crashes on a Pacific island in the Solomon
Islands chain. The island is occupied by a small force of Japanese soldiers who
have been stranded and forgotten. The C-47 radio is damaged in the crash and
the Americans have a limited supply of food, water and ammunition. The Japanese
control the only source of fresh water on the island, grow food, fish and have
built a boat.
The
Americans have a Navy corpsman and the Japanese have an injured soldier. The
Americans also have a hot-headed Marine Lieutenant itching to kill Japanese.
Fortunately, the senior ranking American is the cool-headed Army Air Corp pilot
of the downed C-47 and he keeps the Lieutenant and his men in check. The
Americans and Japanese form a temporary truce; food and water in exchange for
medical care for their injured soldier.
The
movie is part of a sub-genre of WWII movies about adversaries who become
stranded and must survive within enemy territory until rescued. “No Man is an
Island” (1963) and “Hell in the Pacific” (1968) are examples. While its
doubtful American and Japanese ever created such a truce, the concept does make
for interesting story telling. There have even been sci-fi versions of this
premise such as “Robinson Crusoe on Mars” (1964) and “Enemy Mine” (1985).
William Dafoe’s “Robinson Crusoe” is a clear literary source for this genre.
When
a typhoon hits the island, the Americans and Japanese have to work together to
save the fresh water pond. The Americans repair the radio and rescue is at hand,
bringing everyone to the brutal conclusion. The movie ends with a preachy
epitaph, “Nobody Ever Wins,” which comes out of nowhere and makes no sense.
Sinatra and the writers may have been making an early statement about the
Vietnam War at a time when American audiences were still eager to see WWII
action movies like “The Great Escape,” “The Dirty Dozen” and his own “Von
Ryan’s Express.” “None But the Brave” is a good WWII movie with a great cast,
but I think Sinatra may have picked the wrong war to send an anti-war message. Perhaps disillusioned, he never directed another film.
Sinatra
co-produced the movie and receives star billing in what is essentially a co-starring
role as Maloney, a cynical Navy chief who drinks too much. Clint Walker is at
his best as the Army C-47 pilot, Captain Dennis Bourke, who has a history with
Maloney. His Japanese counterpart is Lieutenant Kuroke played by Tatsuya Mihashi.
Tommy Sands is the hot-headed Marine, 2nd Lieutenant Blair in a performance that
is a bit over-the-top, and Takeshi Kato as his equallyhot headed Japanese
counterpart, Sergeant Tamura. Other familiar faces in the American cast include
Brad Dexter as Sergeant Bleeker and Tony Bill as Keller, the C-47 radio
operator. Hisao Dazai appears as Corporal Fujimoto and may be familiar to fans
of Godzilla movies, as he featured in several Toho monster movies. Laraine
Stephens, one of only two women in the movie, appears uncredited in a flashback
scene as Lorie.
Sinatra
gives his typical easy-going performance as Maloney and his direction is
equally easy-going, making use of the tropical location with Kaua'I, Hawaii,
filling in for the South Pacific island. The Japanese-American co-production
has a screenplay co-written by John Twist and Takeshi Kato and is based on a
story by Kikumaru Okuda. There’s unconvincing model work used in the plane
crash scene at the start of the movie with a model Japanese Zero shooting down
the C-47 and an American fighter. The main sets include the freshwater pond,
the C-47 hulk and the Japanese Army compound. I’m sure the cast and crew
enjoyed their time in Hawaii.
The
movie was released in February 1965 by Warner Bros. and clocks in at 106 minutes.
The Warner Archive region-free Blu-ray looks very good and sounds great, with an
early score by John Williams. The only extra on the disc is the trailer which is
interesting because it shows Sinatra acting as both director and star. The
English subtitle option is welcome, especially during the Japanese scenes. The
movie is not perfect, but it is an enjoyable afternoon movie recommended for Sinatra
fans and WWII military adventure.
Click here to order from the Cinema Retro Movie Store
From
the vantage point of 2023, the domestic and professional situations depicted in
Mervyn Le Roy’s “Moment to Moment,” a romantic melodrama released on January
27, 1966, might as well be a portrait of an alien society.Kay Stanton (Jean Seberg) lives in a charming
rented villa in Cannes, France, thanks to her husband Neil’s sabbatical from
his tenured position as an eminent professor of psychology at Columbia
University.If you ask a professor
nowadays if he or she ever expects to receive a year’s paid leave on the French
Riviera complete with housing, the answer is likely to be, “Sure, in your
dreams.”In today’s penny-pinching,
increasingly conservative institutions of higher learning, most professors are
lucky to get tenure.
Kay
has no visible interests or pursuits outside of her role as a housewife, and
even the chores of cooking, cleaning, and supervising the couple’s well-behaved
ten-year-old son are fulfilled by paid help.Today’s overworked, stressed-out soccer moms would pant with envy, but
Kay is lonely.Neil (an archetypal
Arthur Hill role played here by . . . Arthur Hill!) is a loving husband, but he’s
on the road most of the time, happily accepting offers to lecture in London and
Edinburgh.In that pre-IT age, he and
Kay don’t even have the luxury of seeing each other on FaceTime.The best Kay can expect is a hurried call on
her landline as Neil rushes off to an appointment, and the most excitement she
can muster are the afternoon cocktails with her impish, divorced neighbor
Daphne (Honor Blackman).Daphne is as
happily promiscuous as Kay is strait-laced, offering a perpetual open house to
randy gangs of officers on leave from a nearby American Navy base.Despite her good-times facade, we eventually
learn that Daphne’s objective is as middle-class as they come, hoping
eventually to land Mr. Right in the form of a well-to-do, well-connected
commander or admiral.
For
Kay, temptation enters as she encounters Mark Dominic (Sean Garrison), a
handsome Naval ensign with ambitions as an artist.They meet when her son Timmy notices Mark
painting at an easel in town, and from there they drift into a relationship when
she offers to drive him around to scout out potential backdrops at quaint
village plazas and cafes.In the best
Soap Opera tradition of smart people who do stupid things against their better
judgment — not unlike real life, come to think of it — Kay goes to bed with
Mark one night when her son is sleeping over at a friend’s house and the
housekeeper is on vacation.Next
morning, Kay suffers remorse and tells Mark it’s over.Mark reacts angrily, a gun is brandished and
goes off, and he drops to the floor, apparently dead.Kay compounds one stupid act with another
when she convinces Daphne to help her dispose of the body.
At
that point, the movie finds its surest footing as a suspense thriller.Kay calls the police anonymously to tell them
where to find Mark, and soon the shrewd Inspector DeFargo (Grégoire Aslan) is
on the case.He suspects Kay of being
the culprit, and begins to tighten the screws by asking Neil, newly arrived
home not knowing about Kay’s infidelity, to help treat a young man with amnesia.The patient is Mark, alive but suffering a
total loss of memory beginning with the morning he met Kay.In scenes of sadistic comedy that nearly
rival Alfred Hitchcock’s best, DeFargo engineers a series of meetings with
Neil, Kay, and Mark in which various visual and acoustic clues threaten to jog
the young officer’s memory.Kay cringes,
Neil is oblivious, and DeFargo watches like a spider contemplating a fly in its
web.To say the least, it’s unorthodox
police procedure.At least he doesn’t
propose the old Hollywood remedy of smacking Mark on the head again to see if
that does the trick.Maybe he found it
more amusing to torment Kay.
“Moment
to Moment” was the final film of Melvyn Le Roy’s long and versatile career,
except for uncredited assistance on John Wayne’s “The Green Berets,” and it is
largely forgotten today even as new generations of movie buffs rediscover “Little
Caesar,” “Gold Diggers of 1933,” “The Bad Seed,” and “Gypsy.”In part, it was probably a matter of having a
B+ cast instead of an A cast.Jean
Seberg was a well-established actress, but not a proven box-office draw like
Audrey Hepburn or a rising luminary like Faye Dunaway.Sean Garrison co-starred in a short-lived TV
Western, “Dundee and the Culhane,” and then drifted into a busy but low-key
career as a supporting actor.He had the
misfortune of entering the business at the same time as dozens of other young,
good-looking hopefuls, and unlike James Brolin, Chad Everett, Harrison Ford,
Lee Majors, and Robert Redford, he never quite had the charisma or lucky break
needed to surface above the pack.
But
the main jinx for the movie was bad timing.Released the same year that “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” and “Blow-Up”
began to shake Hollywood’s taboos against explicit language and nudity, “Moment
to Moment” struck critics and probably most viewers as glossy, old-fashioned
entertainment not much racier than the TV Soap Operas of the era.Today, that very quality is likely to work in
its favor among viewers who weren’t even born in 1966.Who wouldn’t be curious about a world in
which a thirty-something woman lounges around the house in Yves Saint Laurent
dresses instead of yoga pants and a sweatshirt?The plot about marital infidelity and attempted murder is mirrored now
by true-crime podcasts and “NBC Dateline Two-Hour Events,” although the
culprits there are usually less attractive and a lot less classy than Kay
Stanton, and the cops less idiosyncratic than Inspector DeFargo.
A
new Blu-ray edition of “Moment to Moment” from Kino Lorber Studio Classics
presents the movie in a sharp, 1.85:1 image much richer than the old prints
that used to run on local TV stations in the 1980s, before “Dr. Phil” and “The
View” claimed their time-slot.Special
features include an amusing, informative audio commentary by Howard S. Berger
and Nathaniel Thompson, and a short 1966 featurette, “Moment to Moment with
Henry Mancini.”The featurette, actually
a slightly extended trailer, intercuts shots of the composer conducting his
lush score for the picture with quick scenes illustrating how the music
underlines Le Roy’s moods of romance and suspense.Would that we had more composers now as
talented as Henry Mancini, and more directors with Mervyn Le Roy’s versatility,
sharp sense of composition, and confident pace.
There were passing
moments when watching this gorgeously curated Blu-ray of Phil Tucker’s cult 3-D
masterwork Robot Monster (1953) that
I mulled its reputation as cinema’s most fabled wreck was undeserved.Surely, I thought, I’ve cringingly sat
through worse sci-fi films produced before and since.But then some particularly awful line of dialogue
(delivered woodenly, of course), or a bizarre plot turn, or a not-so-special
effect, or an inexplicable episode of dinosaur wrangling would interrupt my
musings, causing a return to sober reality.Phil Tucker’s low-low-low
budget monster-piece is a crazed vision, to be sure.But acknowledging that, Robot Monster is most certainly not
one of the world’s worst films: it’s too entertaining to be dismissed as such.On the same token, it’s undeniably one of the
most desperate and unhinged cinematic artifacts lensed by an indie Hollywood film-outfit
of the ‘50s.
The sullied reputation of Robot Monster is the result, no doubt, due to the merciless
flailing of the production by the smirking Medved brothers - Michael and Harry –
who infamously skewered the film in their pop-culture, eminently readable and
caustic tomes The Fifty Worst Films of
All Time (1978) and The Golden Turkey
Awards (1980).Still the film’s space
helmet and gorilla-suit sporting “Ro-man” (as listed in the film’s end credits)
– has somehow managed to become as
visually iconic a totem of 1950s sci-fi as the gigantic robot Gort in The Day the Earth Stood Still (2oth
Century Fox, 1951) or the Metaluna monster in This Island Earth (Universal-International, 1955).
As is so often the case, the backstory to the creation of
Robot Monster is perhaps more
interesting than the artifact produced.The
screenplay was written by Wyott “Barney” Ordung.The Californian was trying desperately to
break into the film business, initially as an acting student working
occasionally in walk-on roles, often uncredited.In a 1983 interview with the late film and
3-D historian Ray Zone, Ordung recalled it was in 1952 when he was approached
by Tucker – who he’d known casually from working on a previous picture – to write
the script for Robot Monster.Ordung recalled he was originally tasked to
play the role of the “Ro-Man” – at least in earliest test footage photography.
Ordung’s script for Robot
Monster would serve as his springboard into the world of professional
filmmaking.Following that film’s
release, the Californian would script the war film Combat Squad (1953) as well as another sci-fi guilty pleasure Target Earth (1954).Still (mercifully) unproduced is the script Ordung
wrote directly following the release of Robot
Monster.That prospective film was,
according to Sun Valley’s Valley Times,
to feature Ordung’s “3-D comedy” scenario based on “Mildred Seamster’s
Hollywood beauty salon.”The plot would
“deal with the varied individuals who patronize a beauty salon and their
interesting escapades.”Oy.
That film would not materialize, but it was of little
matter as Ordung would soon receive his first directing credit when Roger
Corman tapped him to helm Monster from
the Ocean Floor (1954).Though Ordung
had not previously helmed any sort of film production, it was an offer and
partnership of economic necessity.Corman agreed to allow Ordung to direct on the condition he contribute
$2,000 of his Robot Monster earnings
to the new film’s budget and work for “a piece of the picture.”Hey, a break’s a break.
First-time director Phil Tucker too was looking for his first
big break in the film industry and was of the mind that Robot Monster just might be the ticket.But his experience working on Robot Monster was, alas, bittersweet.Less than two months following the release of
that film, Tucker was found in Fairbanks, Alaska – of all places - shooting his
non-union follow-up epic: the seventy-five minute Venusian “science-fiction
thriller” Space Jockey – a film never
released and now thought lost.Tucker grudgingly
told a journalist in Fairbanks that with only Robot Monster to his credit, he had already soured on the politics
of Tinseltown.
“The movie industry is stifled in Hollywood,” he director
complained.“They tell you what to
write, how to produce it, when to direct it, who [to] put in it and when to try
to sell it.It’s a tight little island of rulers and it’s
a hard place in which to breathe free.”Tucker did confess he wasn’t trying to be a true auteur in any sense of the word: “I’m not trying to create
art.I’m trying to make money,” he
offered plainly.
The primary stumbling block to Tucker’s earning any
monies was New York-born Al Zimbalist, the executive producer and guiding hand
of Robot Monster.The movie was the first of the films Zimbalist
would oversee as producer – and occasionally as “writer,” though that was mostly
as concoctor of “original stories” and little more.Throughout the 1950s and a bit beyond,
Zimbalist delivered such bargain-basement fare as Cat-Women of the Moon (1953), Miss
Robin Crusoe (1953), King Dinosaur
(1955) and Monster from Green Hell
(1957) to the pleasures of a mostly undiscerning cinema-going audience.It was also Zimbalist who steered Robot Monster to go the then popular 3-D
filming route.It was an unusual decision
for an indie film to be shot on a shoestring budget.
It made some sense.Hollywood’s production of 3-D films was at its zenith in 1953.Box
Office would note in April of 1953 that no fewer than sixty-two films to
offer the 3-D treatment were either completed, in production or in the planning
stages.Practically every major studio
was readying a slate of 3-D cinematic fare: Columbia, Paramount, RKO Radio,
United Artists and Warner Bros. among them.By far, 20th Century Fox was leading the way with a scheduled
twenty-two 3-D films on the drawing
board.There were only a couple of
independents in the mix, having chosen to dip their toe in the 3-D pool.Al Zimbalist and Phil Tucker’s “newly
organized” Third Dimension Pictures was one of them.
The trades reported on March 21, 1953 that Zimbalist was to
employ a unique “Tru-Depth system of 3-D” photography for his in-the-works Robot Monster project. Then, a mere week
following the start of the film’s
production, Box Office noted that Robot Monster had completed shooting… though no release date had yet been set.Zimbalist was so pleased with the results of
the “Tru-Depth” system, that in April of ’53 the Hollywood maverick announced
the formation of his “Tru-Stereo Corporation.”The company would “make available a stereoscopic 3-D system to
independent producers.” “Tru-Stereo” would serve as an affordable,
budget-conscious alternative to the more expensive 3-D systems used by the
Hollywood majors.
In fact, there were no fewer than twenty-two competing 3-D systems being used by filmmakers by late
spring of 1953.(“Tru-Depth” had since been
rechristened as “Tru-Stereo.)”The
Tru-Stereo 3-D was proffered as being similar to the others: it too employed
two cameras to create the three-dimensional effect.But the system also boasted “an authentic
interlocking control which is said to insure against faulty
synchronization.”Robot Monster had also boastingly employed “a newly developed
stereophonic sound system devised by the Master-Tone Sound Corporation.”
The first casting notices for Robot Monster were announced in March of 1953.Handsome leading man George Nader was reportedly
hired to play the role of “Roy” following his appearance in the still
unreleased pic Miss Robin Crusoe.Nader’s performance in that film impressed
Zimbalist who worked on the same as associate producer.Roy’s love interest, Alice (Claudia Barrett)
hadn’t much big-screen experience, but had been steadily working on any number
of early television series.The film’s
egghead professor would be played by the long-working Ukrainian actor John
Mylong, his children, Johnny and Carla, by stage-kids Gregory Moffett and
Pamela Paulson, respectively.
The role of the professor’s wife went to Selena Royle, an
actress with a familiar face due to her long run as a dependable player at MGM.Royle was happy to get the role – any role –
as she had recently been blacklisted in the pages of Red Channels, “the American Legion’s list of 200 motion picture
workers suspected of communist leanings.”Her crime was the organizing and serving of free meals to the
un-and-under employed actors in and around New York City during the throes of
the Depression.Royle vowed to fight the
accusations, telling journalist her post-blacklist acting income had dropped
from six figures to a mere three figures by mid-summer of 1952. Robot
Monster would be one of her two final feature film appearances, Royle and
her husband choosing to immigrate to Mexico in 1957.
With Russia currently dominating world news in an unfavorable way and authoritarian political figures making headlines even in democracies, it's relevant to look back on the 1983 crime thriller "Gorky Park", which has been released on Blu-ray by Kino Lorber. The film was based on Martin Cruz Smith's international bestseller and was unique in its day because it centered on subterfuge within the Soviet law enforcement system and was set primarily in Moscow. Director Michael Apted had hoped to be the first major Hollywood studio production to shoot within the Soviet Union but unsurprisingly he was turned down due to the fact that the story dealt with systemic corruption throughout every layer of the government. Apted settled for the next best thing, shooting in Finland and Sweden, both of which make convincing substitutes for the USSR. Transforming the lengthy, complex novel to a screenplay could have been no easy task, even for acclaimed screenwriter Dennis Potter ("Pennies from Heaven"). Although the film has a leisurely running time of 128 minutes, there are still some portions of the story that are not fleshed out enough to be easily understood.
The movie gets off to a gripping start when three young people drift away from the crowd at a winter festival in Moscow's Gorky Park. They are shot dead shortly thereafter, although we don't know why or by who. Police detective Arkady Renko (William Hurt) is first on the scene and he discovers that the snow-covered bodies have been horribly mutilated with their fingers removed and their faces skinned so that their can be no recognition of the victims. This leads to some particularly gory scenes in which a pathologist skillfully manages to recreate their facial features using synthetic skin. In a country and political system in which everyone is justifiably paranoid, Renko begins to suspect that the KGB might have been behind the killings and are looking to set him up as a fall guy. An interesting cast of characters is gradually introduced. Irina Asanova (Joanna Pacula in her screen debut) is a glamorous actress who was a friend of the victims. Renko cannot persuade her that they are dead, as she has been assured that they escaped into exile by Jack Osborne (Lee Marvin). He's a well-connected, rich American businessman who deals in the lucrative trade of sable furs. Renko is immediately suspicious that Osborne, with his bought-and-paid for allies in Soviet law enforcement, is somehow tied to the murders. This results in a few of those scenes moviegoers love in which the hero and villain banter words, using euphemisms to represent their actual thoughts as they engage in a duel of wits. The more dedicated Renko becomes in solving the crime, the more he realizes his is putting his own life in danger. He later gets assistance from an American visitor, William Kirwill (Brian Dennehy), a detective who is in Moscow to try to solve the murder of his brother, who was one of the three victims. Together, he and Renko begin to unravel a tangled web of corruption, deceit, betrayal and more murders.
"Gorky Park" enjoyed good reviews at the time of its release but it was a boxoffice disappointment. Viewing the new Blu-ray, I found it more intriguing and enjoyable than I had previously- even though the plot gets very complicated and so many characters are introduced that by the end of the movie, I can't say for sure why the original three murder victims were killed. The movie was an important early starring role for William Hurt and he's adequate in the role but rather bland at times, although he and Pacula engage in the kind of steamy sex scene that was de rigueur at a time before movies became largely devoid of eroticism. Pacula gives a very fine performance that earned her a Golden Globe nomination and Dennehy steals every scene he's in, although the premise of an American detective thinking he will have free reign to operate in one of the most oppressive societies in the world is a bit of a stretch. Ian Bannen is a welcome presence as Renko's superior officer, who may be in the pocket of Osborne. As the American fur trader, Lee Marvin is terrific in a marvelous late-career role. It must be said that the largely British cast of supporting actors retain their natural accents, which proves to be a distraction since they are supposed to be playing Russians. Hurt supposedly complained about this because, for the sake of consistency, it forced him to adapt his own version of a British accent, which seems like a hybrid with American English. It doesn't work at all and it's surprising that a skilled director like Apted didn't simply encourage his cast to adopt Russian accents. The production design is rich and expensive-looking but James Horner's score, which was acclaimed in some quarters, sounds dated and very much from an era in which synthesizers were employed ad nauseum.
For those of who came of age during the Cold War period, the film is a reminder of how every aspect of Soviet life was put under scrutiny, with paranoia instilled in citizens to keep everyone off-balance and reluctant to trust anyone else. Despite the Putin regime's quashing of many societal freedoms, today's Russia still enjoys far more freedoms and prosperity than it did when "Gorky Park" was made. Michael Apted's direction is first-rate. Dennis Potter's screenplay excels at showing what life is like in an authoritarian state, where the trappings of democracy are undermined by the fact that everyone knows that there are people who follow the people who follow them. What I found surprising and refreshing is that Renko, who is aware of and frustrated by the Orwellian aspects of his country, remains a dedicated law enforcement official who proudly serves the Soviet state. "Gorky Park" is not a classic but it is a compelling and offbeat thriller that holds up today.
The Kino Lorber Blu-ray looks very good, indeed. Cinematographer Rolf D. Bode's cinematography really impresses, as he shot the film in a rather washed out, colorless manner to reflect the blandness of the Soviet state. The release is one of the few from KL that doesn't include a commentary track, but there is an excellent 16-minute recent interview with Michael Apted, who says he rarely revisits his own films but did so in this case. He says he was surprised at how well the film has held up but expresses his frustration that, despite good reviews, the movie was not successful at the American boxoffice, though it did well internationally. Apted recalls the challenges of trying to replicate Moscow in Helsinki and speaks well of his cast and crew. He says that Lee Marvin, though appearing healthy on screen, was in intensive care in a hospital just prior to filming, as he suffered from emphysema. He relates that Marvin was especially enthused about the film because it gave him a rare opportunity to play a character who was sophisticated and highly cultured. The Blu-ray also includes the original trailer, a teaser trailer and TV spots for "Gorky Park" and an extensive number of trailers for other action films available from KL.
A personal observation: it should be noted that the interview segment with Michael Apted was produced by Walter Olsen, co-founder with his brother Bill of the Scorpion Releasing video label. Scorpion had partnered with KL in recent years to release many under-radar-films on Blu-ray. Walter passed away in May just months after his brother died. Those of us who value their contributions to the home video industry mourn their passing.