The Warner Archive has showcased another "B" movie and rescued it from relative obscurity with the release of "Lady Scarface". The 1941 movie is an RKO "Poverty Row" production with a low budget (i.e. there are almost no exterior shots) and abbreviated running time of only 66 minutes. The titular character is never referred to as such in the film. She's simply called Slade and she's a mysterious Chicago gangster who the police have been searching for under the assumption their prey is a man. Slade does bear a scar on her cheek but it would appear this was added simply to enable the producers to capitalize on the "Scarface" moniker in order to tie the film in with Paul Muni's classic gangster flick. Slade appears in the opening scene in which she and her gang rob a businessman and loot his safe. She ends up shooting him in cold blood. As played by Judith Anderson, Slade has the potential to be a fascinating character-- a female mob boss in the early 1940s. At one point she dresses in a foreboding black hat that makes her resemble Margaret Hamilton's Wicked Witch of the West. However, the screenplay only uses her to bookend the film's opening and climax and she rarely appears on screen in the interim. It's a pity because Judith Anderson's ruthless interpretation of the role is quite interesting and in this viewer's mind seemed to foreshadow Lotte Lenya's Rosa Klebb in "From Russia with Love" in that she's as brutal as any of her male counterparts, humorless and devoid of humanity on any level. Most of the story is devoted to a perky couple who are tracking down Slade, still under the impression they are searching for a man. Lt. Bill Mason (O'Keefe) is a Chicago detective who is sent to a New York hotel where they set a trap for Slade to appear. Accompanying him is Ann Rogers (Frances Neal), an intrepid reporter in the Lois Lane mode. They banter and bicker but we all know they will fall in love by the end of the film. When they get to New York the plan goes awry when an innocent honeymooning couple (Mildred Boles, Eric Blore) inadvertently gets caught up in the plot and are mistaken for Slade's accomplices.
"Lady Scarface" was probably produced to be the lower half of a double bill. However, it isn't without its merits. Director Frank Woodruff keeps the pace brisk and the story, although occasionally confusing, holds the viewer's interest. O'Keefe and Neal make a good team in the "Thin Man" mode but it's Anderson who steals her scenes despite her abbreviated appearances in the film. She was already an acclaimed star on Broadway and recently gave a brilliant and acclaimed performance in Hitchcock's "Rebecca". One can only ponder why she was attracted to this low rent production that is distinguished primarily by the fact that women are given the most interesting roles. Slade keeps her male gang members in line through sheer acts of terror and Ann Rogers is ahead of the police in cracking the case. In all, a competently made and fun crime thriller. The Warner Archive print looks perfectly satisfactory. There are no extras but the disc is region-free.
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Mill Creek Entertainment has released the 1981 comedy "Neighbors" on Blu-ray. The film boasted an impressive line-up of talent both before and behind the cameras. Stars John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd were both riding high on the previous year's success of "The Blues Brothers". Director John G. Avildsen had won the Oscar a few years before for "Rocky". The producers were Richard Zanuck and David Brown, the team behind the blockbusters "The Sting" and "Jaws" and the screenplay was written by the esteemed Larry Gelbart, based on Thomas Berger's recently published novel. The story finds Belushi as Earl Keese, a bored executive living a hum-drum life with his equally bored wife Enid (Kathryn Walker). The Keeses reside on a seemingly isolated suburban street (the film was shot in Staten Island) and the bland surroundings reflect the bland state of their marriage. Then one night Earl notices that a couple is moving into the vacant house next door. They are Vic (Dan Aykroyd) and Ramona (Cathy Moriarty) and the fact that they are choosing to move in during the night is only the first sign of their bizarre lifestyle and behavior. When Earl makes they acquaintance, he is immediately unnerved. Vic is the polar opposite of Earl's button-down, conservative manner and Ramona is a sex-obsessed beauty who has no qualms about trying to seduce Earl, going so far as to sneak under his bed sheets while Edna is preparing dinner for the group. Vic is perpetually upbeat and smiling, though he and Ramona engage in a series of cruel pranks and jokes with Earl as their target. Edna is immediately smitten with the new couple, however, and finds their over-the-top behavior and bad habits to be an anecdote to her dull life with Earl. As the plot progresses, Earl and Vic alternate between being friendly and adversarial, each competing to one-up each other through elaborate pranks most of which find Earl on the losing end. When Earl and Enid's wayward daughter Elaine (Lauren Marie-Taylor) arrives home from college, cheerfully explaining that she has been expelled, she, too, is intoxicated by Vic and Ramona's exotic and unpredictable, sexually-driven behavior.
Bizarrely, "Neighbors" seems to have been inspired in part by Edward Albee's masterpiece "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" In that classic, a young, bored couple are induced to visit another couple, George and Martha, who they have just met. As the seemingly endless evening unwinds, they witness their new friends engage in outrageous and often vulgar behavior and language. They find themselves alternately repulsed and excited by George and Martha's outrageous antics right up until everyone ends up suffering brutal psychological assaults on their relationships and psyches. "Neighbors" takes a similar premise and adds slapstick humor. Belushi and Aykroyd were to have played opposite roles but Belushi wanted to prove he could play the straight man in a comedy. Both acquit themselves well, as do Moriarty and Walker- but the film itself is an unsatisfying mess. Behind the scenes, Belushi, who was trying valiantly to conquer his drug addiction, fell back into bad habits. He squabbled with Larry Gelbert over the script and hated working with director Avildsen. At one point, Belushi tried to get John Landis to take over direction of the film. No one could even agree on the musical score and Avildsen dismissed the original composer, Tom Scott, in favor of his frequent collaborator, Bill Conti, who provides a score that is supremely annoying and distracting. After test screenings showed audiences were confused and unsatisfied with the film, reshoots took place to try to salvage it. "Neighbors" was heavily marketed and ended up making money, though falling short of expectations due to bad word-of-mouth. (It was released directly to video in the UK.) There are some occasionally amusing moments but the disjointed script never quite gels and the characters are more irritating than funny.
The Mill Creek Blu-ray has a very fine transfer and is creatively packaged to replicate the movie's original VHS release. Unfortunately, the perks stop there as there are no other bonus features. This is a pity since film historians would have a field day recounting the dramatic developments in the making of the movie, which proved to be John Belushi's final feature film. He would die of a drug overdose four months after its release. He was said to loathe the final cut, making the tragic circumstances associated with "Neighbors" even more profound.
This year marks the 50th anniversary of "Where Eagles Dare", director Brian G. Hutton's slam-bang WWII classic starring Richard Burton, Clint Eastwood and Mary Ure. Here is the original trailer.
CLICK HERE to order Cinema Retro's 116 page special edition "Where Eagles Dare" issue!
Quentin Tarantino’s “Once Upon a Time . . . in Hollywoodâ€
is a mad, wild romp through a film geek’s mind—a hallucinatory homage to
America’s dream factory. It’s also a funny/sad farewell to a time when people
believed in the dreams the factory once delivered on a regular basis. Rick
Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio) is an actor who once had a popular TV western series
called “Bounty Law.†The series got canceled and he’s making a living playing
villains in guest star roles in other TV series. His agent Marvin Schwarzs (Al
Pacino) advises him to go to Italy to make spaghetti westerns lest he finally
fade into bad guy oblivion. Dalton’s friend, stunt double, and confidence
booster, Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt), thinks it would be a great idea, especially
since Dalton’s drinking is beginning to impact his career.
Tarantino plays this story line out against the backdrop
of Hollywood as it was between February and August 1969. He has us follow the
two friends behind the scenes of studio backlots, in restaurants, and parties
at places like the Playboy Mansion, where we are inundated with references to
dozens, if not hundreds, of films and TV shows of that era. Hardly a frame of
film rolls by without a movie poster appearing on a wall, a black and white
image on a TV set somewhere of some old show, or a word of dialog spoken that
does not hearken us back. Hollywood Boulevard was even given a facelift, with
false 1969 fronts placed over the current buildings. Booth lives in a house in
the Hollywood hills next door to the home of director Roman Polanski and his
beautiful wife Sharon Tate. He only wishes he could establish contact with them
to give his career a boost.
As Dalton struggles to conquer his alcoholism and
remember his lines, we follow Cliff around downtown LA running various errands in
Cliff’s Cadillac Eldorado. He eventually picks up a young female hitchhiker
named Pussycat (Margaret Qualley). He turns down her offer of sex fearing she’s
under 18, but agrees to drive her out to the Spahn Movie Ranch where she’s
living and where he and Rick used to film Rick’s series.
When they get to the ranch, the movie takes a detour into
dark territory. Cliff finds a group of mostly female hippies living there and
Pussycat asks where “Charley†is. When she learns Charley is out somewhere she
says it’s too bad and tells Cliff: “Charley would probably like you.†Cliff wants
to visit with ranch owner, his old friend George Spahn (Bruce Dern in a part
originally intended for the late Burt Reynolds) but Squeaky Fromme (Dakota
Fanning), the leader of the girl hippies, says it impossible. Cliff is not one
to be trifled with and forces his way into George’s bedroom and determines,
even though he’s in bad shape, he’s not being taken advantage of.Tension builds when Booth finds the tire on Rick’s
car slashed. He has a violent confrontation with the scuzzy hippie who did it.
The scene is filled with Tarantino’s patented brand of tension, but only serves
as a teaser for what is to come.
And what is to come? Plenty, but to reveal the
astonishing ending to “Once Upon a Time . . . “ would be to ruin it for anyone
who hasn’t seen it yet. It is an ending both shocking, gratifying, and oddly
enough, hilarious beyond all expectations. It provides a cathartic release
after two and a half hours of building tension and inner rage that leaves you
breathless at the end. Tarantino’s writing has never been sharper. His ability
to foreshadow events, and to plant story ideas that become important and useful
at the climax are masterful. His skill as a director is at its peak. He gets
performances out of DiCaprio and Pitt I never would have thought they could
deliver. They supposedly based their characters on Burt Reynolds and his stunt
man buddy Hal Needham. I can see Reynolds in DiCaprio’s performance, but to my
mind Pitt seemed more like Hollywood stunt-man legend Jock Mahoney, who had
that same calm, confident swagger in real life that Pitt affects.
One of the highlights of “Once Upon a Time . . .†is the
much-talked about scene between Cliff and Bruce Lee (Mike Moh) on the set of
“The Green Hornet.†Lee is shown arrogantly boasting that he could defeat
Cassius Clay in a fight, which causes Cliff to laugh out loud. Lee says he
would teach him a lesson for laughing but his hands are lethal weapons and if
he accidentally killed him he would go do jail.“Anybody who kills anybody by accident goes to jail,†Cliff says. “It’s
called manslaughter.†Which prompts a quick round of hand-to hand combat. The
outcome is a bit of a surprise, but Lee, to say the least, makes quite an
impression.
There are so many things to like about this film, but it
is not without its shortcomings. Tarantino’s foot fetish is becoming a joke and
a distraction. His treatment of Sharon Tate is pretty shallow, as some critics
have complained, but only if you are looking at her as a real human being and
not the symbol of a lost age, as Tarantino intends. The film is a bit long, but
frankly I wouldn’t cut a single frame, and in fact I hope the Blu-ray contains
additional footage that wasn’t used. All in all, this is the movie of the year,
and a must-see for anyone who loves old movies and TV shows.
John M. Whalen is the author of "Tragon of Ramura". Click here to order from Amazon.
The Cohen Collection has released the obscure but worthy 1977 ensemble comedy "Between the Lines" as a special edition Blu-ray. Back in the day, the film won acclaim at film festivals but was barely seen by the public. The movie was the brainchild of aspiring screenwriter Fred Barron, who approached director Joan Micklin Silver, who had won praise for her feature film "Hester Street", released in 1975, which chronicled the experience of Russian Jews who emigrated to America in the late 19th century. "Between the Lines" was sandwiched between "Hester Street" and her 1988 film "Crossing Delancy", which also won a good deal of praise. The film was shot entirely in Boston and takes place at the cramped offices of an alternative weekly newspaper. The progressive staff is comprised of young people who caught the tail end of the protest movements of the mid-to-late 1960s. By the time 1977 rolled around, that movement- having accomplished much- was diminishing by the day. The staffers doggedly pursue muckraker journalism while coping with measly salaries that see them perpetually scrounging in order to let off some steam at the local bars. Having served on a campus newspaper during this period, I can attest that director Micklin Silver perfectly captures the mood of such a setting. In the pre-internet era, campus papers and alternative weeklies were widely read by young people and carried a good deal of influence. (My own contributions were somewhat less impressive: I was the film critic, an enviable position because I got to see major films in advance without having to delve into my barren wallet.)
The staffers portrayed are a diverse lot ranging from those dedicated to the highest standards of journalism and others who simply hang around, having lost the spark that once inspired them. The offices are cluttered and messy and even the one modern perk- the coffee machine- constantly malfunctions. The screenplay is meandering as it covers the personal relationships between this diverse group of young writers and editors. They are also fearful of rumors that the paper will soon be sold to a rich man (Lane Smith in full Nixonian mode) they suspect will put profits above integrity. The staffers are an incestuous lot in the sense that, despite the fractured inter-office romances and friendships, they can't quit each other. There is romantic sex, spontaneous sex and revenge sex. Since the film was directed by a woman, it's not surprising that it plays out in a sympathetic manner to the female characters who are generally presented as honest and intelligent while even the most likable male characters are impulsive and self-centered. Given the scarcity of women filmmakers during this period, it's hard to gripe about the men not getting a fair shake, given the fact that so many movies of the era presented female characters in equally simplistic terms.
"Between the Lines" features an engaging cast of up-and-comers who would find varying degrees of stardom over the next few years. Lindsay Crouse, Jill Eikenberry and Gwen Welles are the female leads and acquit themselves very well indeed. The male cast contains some very good performances as well with Jeff Goldblum funny as a slacker on the newspaper staff whose desire to change the world has degenerated into trying to justify his meager $75 pay check; John Heard as a once-estimable writer who has also fallen on hard times and Stephen Collins, especially good as an aspiring author who becomes an elitist snob when he finally gets a book contract. (Given the sharp edges Collins provides to the character, it is especially disappointing that henceforth he would mostly be cast in bland roles as romantic leads.) Bruno Kirby, having distinguished himself as young Clemenza in "The Godfather Part II" shines as the office nerd and Marilu Henner gives a fine performance as a stripper with a heart of gold. Michael J. Pollard is woefully underutilized but Lane Smith shines as the newspaper's new owner. I even unexpectedly spotted a personal friend, New York publicist Gary Springer in an early acting role. We're also treated to a 1977 concert by Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes, who are still a popular attraction in New Jersey. Kenneth Van Sickle provides some impressive cinematography and Michael Kamen adds some original musical scoring. It all moves along briskly under Micklin Silver's assured direction and makes for a generally compelling and interesting film.
The Cohen Collection provides an excellent Blu-ray transfer along with an original 1977 TV spot and a trailer for the remastered reissue of the film. There is also an engaging recent on-camera interview with Joan Micklin Silver in which she discusses the challenges of being a female film director then and now. In all, an impressive release. Recommended.
I
was living in New York City in the summer of 1989, when Spike Lee’s Do the
Right Thing opened and caused a sensation. I recall finding the picture
exhilarating at first, and then ultimately very disturbing. Racial tension in
the city had been high following several incidents of police brutality against
persons of color on one hand, and the Central Park jogger case, which had
occurred a mere three months earlier, on the other. Was the film a cautionary
tale or a call to action, or both?
Now,
thirty years later, Do the Right Thing is more relevant than ever. Its
message aside, the filmmaking warrants the accolades it has received over the
years, and its reputation has grown considerably as one of the great American
motion pictures. While Spike Lee has gone on to make many excellent movies,
including last year’s Oscar-nominated BlacKkKlansman, he will likely be
most remembered for his 1989 masterpiece.
The
story takes place entirely on one neighborhood block in the section of
Bedford-Stuyvesant in Brooklyn over a very hot couple of days in the summer of
’88. People tend to do crazy things when the weather is that hot. While Mookie
(Spike Lee) is probably considered the protagonist of the tale, the focus is
more on the entire ensemble of characters who live and work on the street in
equal weight. Mookie delivers pizzas for Sal (Oscar-nominated Danny Aiello),
who with his two sons, Pino (John Turturro) and Vito (Richard Edson), runs the
only white business on the block. There is also a Korean market right across
the street run by Sonny (Steve Park). Da Mayor (Ossie Davis) is an alcoholic
who holds court with hazy words of wisdom, and he is constantly belittled by
Mother Sister (Ruby Dee). Mookie’s pals Buggin’ Out (Giancarlo Esposito) and
Radio Raheem (Bill Nunn), continually push people’s buttons. Buggin’ Out is an
angry young man who resents the presence of Sal’s pizzeria and the fact that he
puts no celebrities of color on his wall of fame. Raheem walks around with a
huge boombox that blasts Public Enemy’s “Fight the Power,†annoying many, but
mostly Sal. Mookie’s girlfriend Tina (Rosie Perez, in her debut film), has a
young son with Mookie, but they don’t live as a couple. Instead, Mookie resides
with his sister, Jade (Joie Lee). Acting as a sort of Greek chorus is the radio
DJ, Mister Señor Love Daddy (Samuel L. Jackson, credited as
“Sam Jackson†in these early days of his career), whose studio is right in the
middle of the block.
Much
of the picture is very funny—in fact, one could call the first 2/3 a comedy, a
slice of life that shines a light on a marginalized community. This was
revelatory in 1989. The final third, however, erupts into a shocking violence of
racial conflict that leaves audiences truly jolted.
Many
contemporary reviewers—white ones—misinterpreted the film. In a revealing
“final word†video segment that is a supplement in this beautifully presented
Criterion Collection 2-disk Blu-ray package, Lee calls out the critics who
blasted him and the film for being a “lit fuse.†There was one critic who
opined that the population should hope that the film better not play at a local
theater, implying that it might incite a riot! Some more sensitive critics pointed
to the moment when Mookie throws a trash can through a window, “doing the right
thing†by directing the anger of the neighborhood residents to a building
instead of against its white owners. Again, Lee questions that notion, for what
Do the Right Thing is really about, what it really illustrates,
is that white audiences were generally more upset about some property being
burned down than they were about the murder of one of the black characters at
the hands of the police.
And
that’s the crux of the message. We’re to do the right thing by understanding
where the injustice truly lies.
Criterion
had released the movie on DVD in 2001 and has now upgraded it to a marvelous
director-approved 4K digital restoration (also approved by cinematographer
Ernest Dickerson), with a 5.1 surround DTS-HD Master Audio soundtrack. There’s
a 1995 audio commentary by Lee, Dickerson, production designer Wynn Thomas, and
Joie Lee.
Supplements
include several that are ported over from the 2001 DVD: video introductions and
closings by Lee; a 60-minute documentary of the making of the picture in a new
2K digital transfer; a featurette of Lee revisiting the location in 2000;
Public Enemy’s music video of “Fight the Power†(directed by Lee); a forty-minute
press conference from the Cannes Film Festival with Lee and members of the cast
and crew; behind the scenes footage of the first readthrough and wrap party;
original storyboards for the riot sequence; an interview with editor Barry
Brown; and the theatrical trailer and TV spots.
New
supplements on this Blu-ray edition include interviews with costume designer
Ruth E. Carter, New York City Council member Robert Cornegy Jr., writer Nelson
George, and filmmaker Darnell Martin; and deleted and extended scenes. The
thick booklet contains an essay by critic Vinson Cunningham and extensive
excerpts from Lee’s journal kept during the making of the film.
This
is an exceptional release from the always reliable Criterion Collection. Do the
right thing…and buy it.
Hauer in his iconic role as Batty in "Blade Runner".
BY LEE PFEIFFER
International film star Rutger Hauer has died at age 75 in his native Netherlands after what has been called "a short illness". Hauer had run away from home at age 15 and joined the merchant marines before turning his attention to acting. He gained stardom in the Netherlands in the 1960s through a TV series titled "Floris". He gravitated to feature films where his good looks and assertive personality made him a popular attraction. His first major hit in European cinema was the acclaimed 1973 film "Turkish Delight". Hauer, who frequently collaborated with director Paul Verhoeven, made a mark in Hollywood playing a memorable villain in the 1981 thriller "Nighthawks" starring Sylvester Stallone. In 1982, he landed his most iconic role as the villain Batty in director Ridley Scott's sci-fi classic "Blade Runner". The film was a critical and boxoffice disappointment but over the decades it has become widely beloved and acclaimed by movie fans. In 1986, he scored again with film-goers as the titular character in "The Hitcher" in which he gave a chilling performance as a charismatic psychopathic killer. He landed another plum role in 1988 with the film "The Legend of the Holy Drinker", playing a ne'er do well character. His performance was widely acclaimed. Hauer was also a popular presence in major TV movies including "Escape from Sobibor" and "Fatherland", which earned him Golden Globe nominations. In recent years, Hauer appeared in his share of "B" movies and TV productions but he never suffered the greatest fear of actors: being out of work for extended periods. Rutger Hauer never went out of style. For more click here.
Due for release on 27th September 2019: 3 CD (5 original albums) The Electric Banana (1967), More
Electric Banana (1968), Even More Electric Banana (1969), Hot Licks (1973) and
The Return Of The Electric Banana (1978).
Fans of Film and TV Library music should be
gleaming all over with this upcoming release. Initially coming together during
a Fontana-era lull in The Pretty Things’ prodigious career, the band’s
now-legendary body of work for music library de Wolfe as The Electric Banana
saw their alter-egos become parallel universe superstars, their work utilised
by film and TV producers in everything from soft-porn skin-flicks, a Norman
Wisdom vehicle and horror classic Dawn of the Dead to small-screen ratings
winners like Dr. Who (1973 season), The Sweeney (1975) and Minder (1984).
But there is so much more just begging to be re-discovered
within these shiny silver time capsules. Cult TV shows such as Timeslip (1970) and
Doomwatch (1972). Ultra-rare music from sexploitation gems such as Confessions
of a Male Groupie: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and love The Electric Banana
(1971) and some great Tony Tenser productions including Monique (1970) and the
Norman Wisdom film (which has since gathered a cult reputation amongst British
psychedelic music buffs), What’s Good for the Goose (1968). And not forgetting Michael
Armstrong’s The Haunted House of Horror (1969) – all feature something,
somewhere from The Electric Banana. This generous and hugely enjoyable
collection is peppered with many surprising treats.
In the Sixties, the Banana recordings
mirrored British pop’s gradual evolution into rock, courtesy of brass-led
Swinging London ravers (‘Walking down the Street’, ‘Danger Signs’), primal
garage punk (‘Street Girl’, ‘Love Dance And Sing’) and maximum psychedelia
(‘Eagle’s Son’, ‘Alexander’). They switched gears again in the Seventies;
confidently mixing swaggering bar-band hard rockers (‘The Loser’, ‘Sweet Orphan
Lady’), putative terrace anthems (‘Whiskey Song’), metal-based rock (‘Maze
Song’, the Hendrix tribute ‘James Marshall’) and jangly, Byrds-inflected power
pop (‘Do My Stuff’).
Taken from the original master-tapes, the
3-CD set The Complete De Wolfe Sessions represents a number of firsts: the
first-ever legitimate CD issue of these recordings (authorised by both The
Pretty Things and de Wolfe), the first time that the Banana’s Sixties and
Seventies work has been made available under one roof, and the first time that
the karaoke-anticipating backing tracks have been made commercially available.
Housed in a clamshell box that includes a
lavish illustrated booklet, The Complete De Wolfe Sessions incorporates the
original albums artwork, an extended essay on the band, quotes from pivotal
members Phil May, Dick Taylor and Wally Waller, and some priceless photos from
back in the day.
More than forty years after The Pretty Things
last donned the Electric Banana mantle, this long-overdue complete package is
the final, definitive word on these seminal and much-loved recordings – and certainly
proves to be a rich voyage of discovery.
Referring to the 1955 film "Man With the Gun" as a routine Western might not sound like an enthusiastic recommendation. However, because the 1950s was such a fertile time for fine movies representing this genre, "routine" can be taken as praise. The film follows many of the standard story elements that were popular in horse operas of this era: a stalwart, mysterious loner with a shady past who takes on the forces of evil; a good-hearted "bad girl"; a larger-than-life villain and a town with a population of timid, helpless men who must rely on the stranger to save them from being exploited and cheated. Robert Mitchum, then an up-and-coming star, plays Clint Tollinger, a drifter with a reputation for taming wild towns. The town he rides into has a trouble with a capital "T". Seems one Dade Holman (Joe Barry) is the standard villain in a Western piece: he's been flexing his considerable financial resources by buying up all the surrounding land and using paid gun hands to terrorize or kill anyone who won't cede their property rights to him. Tollinger drifts into town to find that his reputation precedes him. He is hired by the local council to thwart Holman's thugs, who have also been disrupting the peace. Tollinger agrees as long as he has complete control over the methods he employs and that he is temporarily deputized, as well. He finds the local sheriff to be an aged, fragile man Lee Simms (Henry Hull), who is more of a figurehead than a respected lawman. Tollinger quickly reverses roles and becomes the central law officer in town, with Simms taking on the role of his deputy. It doesn't take long for Holman's gunmen to test his mettle. Tollinger proves to be adept at protecting himself, consisting outdrawing his adversaries and killing them even when they outnumber him. He also enforces a "no guns in town" rule and a curfew as well. Before long, the businessmen are complaining that now things are too peaceful and their businesses are suffering. Tollinger also interacts with a young couple who are engaged to marry: lovely Stella Atkins (Karen Sharpe) and her headstrong fiancee Jeff Castle (John Lupton) who continues to defy Holman's men and who has been seriously wounded for his refusal to cede a parcel of land Holman wants. Tollinger takes a liking to the couple, though rumors begin to swirl that Stella is more in love with him than she is with Jeff. Tollinger also encounters his estranged wife Nelly (Jan Sterling), who is running the local bordello/dance hall. The two are not happy to see each other and when Nelly reveals a shocking secret about their daughter, the enraged Tollinger goes on a rampage that terrorizes the town.
"Man With the Gun" suffers from a bland, uninspired title but the film itself is quite engaging. Mitchum looks terrific in the part, strutting about town ramrod straight and looking handsome even when embroiled in shoot-outs. Even this early in his career there was evidence of a superstar in the making. The supporting cast is also very good, especially some wonderful character actors such as Henry Hull, Emile Meyer, James Westerfield and other familiar faces of the era (including a young Claude Akins). The film, ably directed by Richard Wilson, is certainly no classic but on the other hand, it is consistently engrossing and highly entertaining. Despite the considerable talent involved, it's Mitchum's show throughout- and he delivers the goods.
The Blu-ray release from Kino Lorber does justice to the crisp B&W cinematography. The edition features the original trailer and bonus trailers for other Mitchum Westerns from the company, The Wonderful Country and Young Billy Young.
(Hedison with Roger Moore on the set of Live and Let Die, 1973)
BY LEE PFEIFFER
David Hedison has died at age 92. The Rhode Island native started in theater, studying at the famed Actor's Studio under the guidance of Lee Strasberg and made an impression off-Broadway in the 1950s. Hedison originally was billed under his birth name as "Al Hedison" but would later change it to David. He found himself in demand for television and feature film. He played the role of a scientist who is transformed into a deadly creature in the 1958 cult classic "The Fly" in which Hedison co-starred with Vincent Price. Hedison began to guest star on many popular TV series before landing his first series, starring in "Five Fingers", an espionage show that ran from 1959-60. His best-known role was on Irwin Allen's sci-fi series "Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea", which ran from 1964-68 and saw Hedison starring with Richard Basehart. He would return to episodic TV as a regular on the popular soap opera "The Young and the Restless" in 2004. Hedison never quite made the front ranks of leading men in feature films but he did appear in many diverse movies. Among them: "The Greatest Story Ever Told", "The Enemy Below" and "The Lost World". When Roger Moore inherited the role of James Bond in 1972, he arranged to have his old friend Hedison (who had appeared with him in an episode of "The Saint") to play the prominent role of 007's C.I.A. colleague Felix Leiter. Hedison would resume the role opposite Timothy Dalton's Bond in the 1989 film "Licence to Kill". He also appeared with Moore in the 1979 adventure film "ffolkes" (aka "North Sea Hijack".).
The
folks at Mill Creek Entertainment have released the 10-part documentary “WWI:
The War to End All Wars†on DVD. The documentary is a detailed analysis of what
was known as The Great War until the outbreak of World War II. Each episode covers
a different aspect of the war, in mostly chronological order, from its origins
leading to the assassination of Austro-Hungarian Archduke Franz Ferdinand in
Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina, on 28 June 1914 to the armistice signed on 11
November 1918.
In
four years and four months, over 70 million men were mobilized on all sides and
in the end an estimated nine million died along with seven million civilians. Disease
and genocides resulted in an estimated additional 50 to 100 million deaths
making World War I one of the deadliest wars in history. Early research was
done during and after the war with men ravaged by what is known today as post-
traumatic stress or PTS (many veterans prefer excluding “disorderâ€). Back then
it was called “shell shock†and in World War II, “battle fatigue.†An entire
generation of men never returned from the war. Many others who did survive
suffered from a largely undiagnosed and rarely treated illness.
The
documentary was produced by Creation Films in 2008. Each episode runs between
40-47 minutes with title cards and five acts per episodes for a total running
time of just over 7 hours. It was produced,
co-written and directed by Edward Feuerherd and is narrated by Fred North. The
research is detailed, informative and interesting. Single episodes are devoted
to topics such as aviation, the war at sea and chemical warfare.
The
series ends rather abruptly with the signing of November 11th Armistice. An
episode on the aftermath of World War I and its impact would have added more
value to the series. While the well-researched information provided in the
narration is excellent, the major flaw is the poor quality of the 100 year-old film.
I doubt anything was done to restore the film for the series when it was produced
in 2008 or for this 2018 DVD release.
Interestingly,
the title of the documentary at the start of each episode is, “The War to End
War 1914-1918.†I’m not sure why the DVD title is different. Perhaps it was
changed in a subsequent television broadcast. According to IMDB, the
documentary was released on the Heroes Channel in the U.S. in September 2014,
presumably to tie in with the 100th anniversary of the start of World War I.
IMDB lists the documentary as a co-production by Looksfilm and Les Films d’ici
Paris.
In
addition to the well-researched narration and film shot during the dawn of
movie making on the front lines of the conflict, there is the music both
contemporary of the era and original scoring included to add dramatic effect.
Highlights include “Shine on Harvest Moon†by Jack Norworth and Nora Bayer, “Adagio
for Strings†by Samuel Barber and “Adagio in G Minor†by Tomaso Albinoni. There
are scenes that are reused numerous times and the music becomes repetitious,
but both get the job done.
The
10-parts of the documentary are divided between two disks with five parts on
each disc. The movie looks adequate and is watchable, but the lack of a
restoration is a major liability. The DVD release includes a digital version of
the documentary, but there are no extras. Recommended for history buffs,
especially since it’s value-priced.
While criticism of Earthquake usually concentrates on its flaky Sensurround effects,
the film’s more important flaws lie in a confused approach to the genre and –
especially – one character who really belongs in a different movie altogether,
writes BARNABY PAGE.
Although it remains one of the
best-known of the early-1970s all-star disaster extravaganzas, Earthquake (1974) was less successful
commercially than Airport, The Towering Inferno or The Poseidon Adventure, and did not
enjoy the critical acclaim of the latter two.
It probably suffered in the
short term from being released only a month before Inferno, and in the longer term from its over-reliance on the
Sensurround system; watched now, though, it is flawed largely through
discontinuity of tone and the uneasy co-existence of both a strong human
villain and a natural threat. Still, the film casts interesting light on the
genre as a whole, sometimes complying with its standards and sometimes
departing from them.
At the time Earthquake must have seemed something of
a sure bet, overseen for Universal by Jennings Lang, a veteran
agent-turned-producer who was more or less simultaneously working on Airport 1975, had lately been
responsible for some high-profile critical successes including Play Misty For Me and High Plains Drifter, and was a supporter
of Sensurround.
Director Mark Robson had only
a few years earlier delivered the hit Valley
of the Dolls. Co-writer Mario Puzo was riding high on The Godfather,and
Charlton Heston, although his fortunes had waned somewhat during the 1960s, had
been revived as a star by Planet of the Apes.
In Earthquake he would again be one
of those square-jawed “Heston heroes who lack irrational impulsesâ€, as Pauline
Kael memorably put it (though not referring to this movie); he had lately
played a number of characters who defended civilisation against all odds, in
films from El Cid to Khartoum and Major Dundee, and even had a recent disaster-movie credit in Skyjacked.
Yet somehow none of its
creators could quite make it jell, and we are never sure quite what kind of
film we are supposed to be watching. It may not have helped that Puzo
apparently left the project to work on The
Godfather Part II and was replaced by the obscure George Fox, who – from
what I can discover about him – seemed to be as interested in researching
earthquakes for factual accuracy as in crafting an engaging drama. He wrote a
little about the production in a book, Earthquake:
The Story of a Movie, that was published to coincide with release of the
movie.
From early on in the film, we
feel it doesn’t quite have the slickness of the disaster classics. Earthquake belongs to a genre that at
heart took itself very seriously, yet it is more humorously self-referential
than them – not least when Charlton Heston reads, very woodenly, a script with Geneviève Bujold, who plays a wannabe
actress. Another character, Victoria Principal, mentions going to a Clint
Eastwood movie; and in one of the film’s most visually striking sequences we
later see this Eastwood flick, running sideways during the quake before the
projector conks out.
One could even take the
repeated joke of the Walter Matthau character, drunk at a bar and ignoring the
earthquake while randomly spouting the names of famous figures (“Spiro T.
Agnew!†“Peter Fonda!â€), as a comment on the all-star concept.
But at the same time Earthquake is also bleaker than many
others; by contrast Airport is upbeat
and even Towering Inferno, which ends
on a prediction of worse fires in the future, also offers the hope that better
architecture can prevent them. In Earthquake,
however, the ending is distinctly mournful – with its semi-famous final line,
“this used to be a helluva town†and
the comment that only 40 people out of 70 trapped in a basement survived. (The
death tolls in classic disaster movies vary, from negligible in Airport and Inferno to near-total in Poseidon;
numerically, Earthquake sits in the
middle, but it is clearly much more about destruction than salvation.)
And italso has more sheer nastiness than all the others combined,
notably in the miserable marriage of Heston and Ava Gardner – made all the more
bitter by the way Heston feels obliged to save her and dies in the attempt,
when he could have reached safety with his newer love Bujold – and in the
repellent character of Jody, the retail worker and National Guardsman played by
Marjoe Gortner.
Michael Coate of the Digital Bits web site has once again assembled an on-line round table of James Bond scholars including Cinema Retro's own Lee Pfeiffer to reflect on the 1979 James Bond film "Moonraker", which recently marked its 40th anniversary. Although a financial success, the film remains controversial among 007 fans due to its excessive use of over-the-top humor. Click here to read what the panel participants now think of the film 40 years on.
I personally have never been a huge fan of sex comedies
as most of the ones that I have seen generally rely too much on infantile
attitudes towards sex or gross bathroom humor as a means of generating laughs
and simply fail to provide a payoff. The good ones are the type that men and
women can comfortably watch together and laugh with rather than at. Porky’s
(1981) and Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982) are two examples of this.
Gas Pump Girls, filmed in 1978 and released regionally in
1979, is probably the most entertaining movie ever made in Sacramento,
California. It takes place following a group of seniors’ high school graduation.
The film is big on nudity but soft on sex despite the suggestive ad campaign poster
boasting the tagline “You'll love the service they give…†Girls is the result
of director Joel Bender’s idea to use the tried-and-true film trope of a
dilapidated business that needs a much-needed injection of fresh blood for it
to be resuscitated and to prosper. George Cage’s wonderful Skateboard (1978) similarly
featured an avuncular Allen Garfield doing his best to marshal teenagers and
Leif Garrett into a skateboarding team that would make money for him. In Girls,
Huntz Hall of the “Bowery Boys†fame is Joe, the owner of a gas station desperately
in need of a make-over after his competitor across the street commandeers his patrons
with a souped-up, state-of-the-art service center. His niece June (Kirsten
Baker) enlists the help of her attractive friends Betty (Linda Lawrence), April
(Sandy Johnson), January (Rikki Marin), and Jane (Leslie King). They all give
the gas station a much-needed facelift via a new paint job and a new name:
Joe’s Super Duper. Who better than a group of beautiful and nubile young female
women to come to the rescue and make Uncle Joe’s establishment lucrative? This
premise is by no means original, but it works well in this film as the ladies
find an answer to every hurdle thrown their way through ingenuity, especially
when their tanks are empty and they need to get more gas for their customers,
and quickly!
With the help of skimpy work outfits to showcase their
considerable assets and the hiring of their boyfriends as mechanics, one of
whom is Roger (Dennis Bowen), the group is on their way to saving the day until
a three jerks who call themselves the Vultures, comprised of Hank (Demetre
Phillips), Butch (Steve Bond), and Peewee (Ken Lerner), come in to trash the
place out of a sense of boredom. These guys look like rejects from the Pharaohs
in George Lucas’s American Graffiti (1973) or gang members from Randal
Kleiser’s Grease (1978). June, however, is very persuasive in getting the
Vultures on their side as tow truck operators when the rival and cigar-chomping
Mr. Friendly (Dave Shelley) vows to shut them down by sending over two
hoodlums, Bruno (Joe E. Ross) and Moiv (Mike Mazurki), to intimidate them. The
ladies turn on their charms in some truly humorous moments which include adorable
April giving the time to a customer (Paul Tinder, who resembles a young Ronny
Cox) as he’s in the garage lift – you won’t look at oil changes in quite the
same way after this scene; April enticing a hilariously excited Bruno to stave
off a robbery; and the whole crew breaking into a dance sequence in the garage
(look fast for the little kid wearing the same Darth Vader shirt that I had in 1978!).
Sandy Johnson is the standout among the ladies. Introduced to the world as
Playboy’s Playmate of the Month in June 1974, Ms. Johnson made a memorable
albeit brief appearance in movies during the 1970’s and disrobes in Girls with
such glee that you cannot help but root for her. She is perhaps best known to horror
film genre fans as Judith Margaret Myers, the ill-fated sister of the indefatigable
killer Michael Myers in John Carpenter’s Halloween (1978).
Sprinkled throughout the film is the voice of a radio
deejay, played by New York’s own “Cousin Brucie†Bruce Morrow, a cute device
probably lifted from the Wolfman Jack character in American Graffiti. This
appearance no doubt inspired K-Billy’s Sounds of the Seventies in Quentin
Tarantino’s Reservoir Dogs (1992).
The ending of the film is crazy, as the girls and boys
dress as Saudi Arabian oil magnates who feign their way into the office of the
head of the rival gas company. The sequence features a rarity in cinema – a
contrite businessman.
Unsurprisingly, the film wasn’t nominated for any awards
in the acting category and I will say that much of it is stilted and sounds
recited and forced. However, the ladies are so sweet and good-natured that this
is a minor quibble in an otherwise funny and entertaining romp.
The
U.S. has finally seen a Blu-ray release of David Lynch’s challenging 1997 feature,
Lost Highway (up until now it has been available only on DVD and
less-than-ideal-quality imported Blu-ray editions from various countries.) Kino
Lorber unleashed this disturbing and surreal work of art from the heir apparent
of Luis Buñuel, and it’s a doozy.
Lynch
described his 1997 feature, Lost Highway, as a “psychogenic fugue,â€
which is a fancy term for a dissociative disorder. The story concerns musician
Fred Madison (Bill Pullman), who may or may not be having marriage trouble with
his beautiful wife, Renee (Patricia Arquette). An outside force seems to be
watching and harassing the couple by leaving intimate videotapes of themselves
on their doorstep. Throw in some nightmares and the appearance of a
“mystery man†(the very creepy Robert Blake) with powers that could only exist
as dream logic, and Fred eventually loses it. Suddenly he’s arrested for
killing his wife. But then—uh oh—while he’s sitting in a jail cell, he becomes…
someone else. The cops find Pete Dayton (Balthazar Getty) in Fred’s
place. Puzzled, they let Pete go, since he’s not the man they want. Now there’s
a kind of alternate universe thing going on, because Patricia Arquette now
plays Alice, the mistress of the cruel Mr. Eddy (Robert Loggia), who may in truth
be a porn producer named Dick Laurent.
Confused?
Many audience members were at the time of Lost Highway’s initial
release. The picture marked the first in what might be called the “fugue
trilogy†(the other parts being Mulholland Drive and INLAND EMPIRE),
in which main characters become other people during the flow of the tales.
After a second or third viewing and examining Lynch’s narrative conceits in the
other movies, one can get a sense of what it’s all about. And I’m not
going to tell you. Just know that Lost Highway is about a man who
murders his wife, and he is unable to live with himself—or inside his own
mind—because of it. The film generates a good amount of dread, and it is pure
Lynch. It marks a transition from earlier, more narrative-friendly pictures, to
more dreamlike, experimental works of art that defy description—other than that
they are “David Lynch Films.â€
When
the Kino Lorber release appeared, Lynch made the news by denouncing it,
claiming that he disapproved of the transfer and that he wasn’t consulted. Kino
Lorber fired back with a response. (Click here to read.)
While
we at Cinema Retro don’t want to dispute Mr. Lynch’s opinions on the movie’s
Blu-ray release, we can say that the Kino Lorber edition is the best we’re
going to get at this time. It looks darned good even without the intended restoration/transfer
from the original negative. The dual-layered BD50 disk, with its 5.1 surround
and 2.0 lossless audio, sure beats the old DVD and import versions. There are
no supplements, although the picture has chapter breaks (something Lynch has campaigned
against with the release of his pictures on home video).
The
final verdict—until, say, Criterion, or another company properly uses the
original negative and has Lynch’s approval, then the Kino Lorber release is good
enough. Sorry, David, we just want the movie!
(Although David Lynch did not approve the audio commentary by Tim Lucas for inclusion on the Blu-ray, Lucas has made it possible for fans to download the commentary for free. Click here for info.)
It’s
been three years since ‘American Horror Project’ was unleashed. Comprising an
eclectic gathering of indie curios from the 1970s, the fact it was announced as
Volume 1 led to much anticipation as to what future collections might serve up.
Well,
Arrow Video has finally issued Volume 2. It’s been a long wait. Was it worth
it? For those whose passions run to the sort of weird, otherworldly slices of
70s small-town America represented by the first, the answer would be a
resounding yes. But, as before, for a more general audience it’s unlikely to harbour
much appeal. Regardless, whether you think they’re deserving of Blu-ray
resurrection or not, all power to Arrow – and ringmaster of this circus of the
bizarre, film historian Stephen Thrower – for rescuing these micro-budget
productions from the bowels of obscurity, giving them a wash and brush up and
setting them free back into a world that for better or worse had long forgotten
them. Someone somewhere is sure going to love them.
All
three titles in the set are brand new 2k restorations from the original film
elements, and some infrequent patches of heavy grain notwithstanding – really
only distracting in darker sequences – they look absolutely fantastic.
So
what exactly do we get this time? Opening with 1970s Dream No Evil, we move on
to 1976’s Dark August and conclude with 1977’s The Child. All three films are thematically
linked, however tenuously, in that in each it is a child who’s the catalyst for
the terrors that ensue. In the first they’re born of a little girl’s
desperately unhappy childhood, in the second the product of an accidental
death, and in the third it’s vengeful death wrought upon those around her by a
precocious teenager.
Dream
No Evil
A
former orphan, Grace (Brooke Mills), now assistant to a charlatan travelling
fire and brimstone preacher, Rev Bundy (wild-eyed Michael Pataki), is fixated
on locating her real father. Not only is Grace convinced she’ll find him but
that when she does he’ll welcome her back into his life with open arms. Her inadvisable
quest leads her down a path of self-destruction and she descends into madness.
Though
everything is subjective, writer-director John Hayes’ film isn’t so much horror
as it is bleak drama… exceedingly bleak. If the forlorn pre-titles sequence
doesn’t alert you to that, then Jaime Mendoza-Nava’s gently melancholic credits
music reinforces the notion. A couple of slasher movie tropes aside – and even
they are rendered mundane in their bloodlessness – the real draw here is former
Oscar-winner (for The Barefoot Contessa) Edmond O’Brien, overweight and
overacting on the fag end of a prodigious career; it’s a car crash performance from
which it’s impossible to avert your eyes. Still, it’s nice to see Marc “I
didn’t know there was a pool, down there†Lawrence, dressed almost exactly as
he appears in his two Bond roles (Diamonds Are Forever and The Man with the
Golden Gun), as a seedy mortician rather than a hoodlum.
With
some dispassionate narration thrown in, presumably to keep you up to speed if
you’ve zoned out during its leisurely pace, Dream No Evil’s key conceit has
been worked countless times; if you keep in mind that what you’re seeing is
what Grace is seeing, not necessarily what’s real, then there won’t be too many
surprises ahead.
Bonus
features on the disc are an appreciation and a look at the director’s prior
career by Thrower, an audio commentary from writers Kat Ellinger and Samm
Deighan, and a segment devoted to dear old O’Brien.
Dark
August
In
a small backwoods town a little girl is accidentally killed when she runs into
the road without looking, following which the driver of the vehicle (J J Barry)
has a death curse sworn upon him by the child’s grandfather.
Although
Planet of the Apes star Kim Hunter as a psychic medium is probably the main
draw here, what makes it worth sticking around for is J J Barry. A slow burn
drama helmed by former director of commercials Martin Goldman, Barry’s sincere,
committed performance lends the supernatural shrouding a bit of gravitas. The
irksome score at the outset (courtesy William S Fischer) does its darnedest to dissuade
the intolerant, but it’s worth hanging in there; it may be the least
interesting constituent of the set, but it does evolve into something rather
compelling.
Goldman
not only directed, but also co-wrote and co-produced, and much like bedmate Dream
No Evil it isn’t really a horror film. I’d label it chiller-lite with a couple
of wince-inducing moments tossed in, the most effective being when a character
slips and carves up his leg with a handsaw (even though the subsequent blood
spill is of the day-glo paint variety).
Shot
in Vermont, Richard E Brooks’ beautiful cinematography balances out the overall
oppressive mien, and if the finale is a tad anticlimactic it isn’t excessively
injurious.
Bonus
features are a couple of appreciation pieces (one by Thrower, the other from
writer and artist Stephen R Bissette), interviews with Goldman and his
co-producer Marianne Kanter, and a commentary from Goldman.
The
Child
Embittered
over the death of her mother, a teenage girl, Rosalie (Rosalie Cole), uses her psychic
powers to reanimate a battalion of corpses from a graveyard, willing them to
carry out her twisted campaign of vengeance upon those she deems responsible.
In
terms of exploitation terrors this tasty number from director Robert Voskanian
is where we hit pay dirt, it’s the diamond in the rough. Yes, the dialogue –
evidently post-dubbed, and badly at that – is stilted and the acting in general
is wooden enough to drill holes in, but it’s the only title in the collection
that engenders any real suspense and it boasts a supremely grungy vibe.
Taking
a little while to gain momentum, once it does it delivers the goods with several
suitably impressive set pieces and a bunch of effectively creepy zombies. Gory
when it needs to be – albeit all pretty unrealistic looking by today’s
standards – it builds up a decent head of steam for a climax in which the
survivors take refuge in an old barn, barricading themselves in to fend off a
full-on assault by the undead.
Also
known as Zombie Child and (this writer’s favourite) Kill and Go Hide, skewed
camera angles and a disorienting score – one moment melodic piano recital
material, the next a series of peculiar electronic bleeps and bloops – all add
to the sense that Voskanian was a fledgling talent with so much more to offer, making
it a crying shame to note that (for reasons outlined in the supplements on the
disc) this was to be his sole feature.
Said
supplements consist of an appreciation from Thrower, an interview with (and commentary
from) Voskanian and producer Robert Dadashian, plus an original theatrical
trailer. There are two viewing options on the feature itself, a 1.33:1
presentation and a 1.78:1; though not the most aesthetically pleasing choice,
the former opens up the frame significantly to reveal more picture both top and
bottom.
‘American
Horror Project’ Volume 2 comes with a limited edition 60-page collectors’
booklet, and each individually cased film has a reversible sleeve bearing
original and newly commissioned artwork.
One
of the most surprising things about director Roger Christian’s 1982 chiller The
Sender, which screams America from almost every fibre, is that it’s British
made. With a cast and crew of varied nationality and narratively set in America
– location work took place in Georgia – all the studio work for the Paramount
Pictures production was actually shot on stages at Shepperton in the UK.
British
born Christian himself was a former Academy Award winning art director on the
first Star Wars (and a nominee in the same category for Alien). On the other
end of the ‘accomplishments to be proud of’ scale, however, he’s the man
responsible for the woeful Battlefield Earth, so it’s fair to say his cinematic
career was mixed. The Sender, his debut in the director’s chair, resides on the
upper end of that scale.
Following
a failed attempt at suicide on a public beach, a nameless young man suffering
from amnesia (Zeljko Ivanek) is committed to a sanatorium for psychiatric
assessment by Dr Gail Farmer (Kathryn Harrold). Before long she begins
experiencing phantasmagorias, at first confounding, then progressively
disturbing. It transpires her patient, who’s tagged John Doe #83, is a
telepath, but to a level beyond his control, cursed with unconsciously transferring
the conjurings of his dreams and fears into the minds of others, skewing their
sense of reality. After she’s visited by Doe’s subtly manipulative mother
(Shirley Knight), Farmer believes she's starting to get to grips with the lad,
but she hasn’t accounted for how deeply he’s penetrated her psyche and how
great an influence he has on her ability to distinguish between the physical
and the hallucinatory.
The
Sender’s ability to toy with an audience’s perception of what is and what isn’t
real gifts it with the tropes of one of the better entries in the series
spawned by Wes Craven’s A Nightmare on Elm Street – minus its infamous child
molesting maniac, of course. The waking dream sequences are expertly realised,
several of them genuinely chilling, and writer Thomas Baum taps into a number
of base human fears with his gleefully dark and disturbing script. For example,
there’s a full blooded yikes moment in which it goes unnoticed by surgical
staff that the patient on the table has woken during an invasive procedure. If
that doesn’t touch a nerve, little will, although murophobics should definitely
approach with caution! The film’s highlight hallucinatory sequence is served up
in a marvellously staged setpiece during an attempt to administer shock therapy
treatment to Doe, wherein all manner of telekinetic hell breaks loose.
Yet
for all the horrors The Sender has stashed in its pocket, there’s a curious undercurrent
of melancholia coursing through its veins. It’s a facet that enables the viewer
to empathise with Doe, who, much like Carrie White before him, hasn’t chosen to
walk a destructive telepathic path, but rather has been pushed that way by
circumstance rooted in a toxic maternal relationship.
Of
the cast there are several standouts. American Kathryn Harrold, who over the
period of just a few years scooped starring roles opposite the likes of Steve
McQueen (The Hunter, 1980) and Arnold Schwarzenegger (Raw Deal, 1986), is
excellent and – let’s not skirt it, seriously gorgeous – as the beleaguered
psychiatrist. Christian couldn’t have chosen a better leading lady, her
authoritative confidence masking an endearing fragility. Perhaps the most
recognisable among the cast’s British contingent is Paul Freeman, who brings
class to everything in which he appears and pleasingly gets plenty to do here.
As the head doctor at the sanatorium, the impotent voice of reason amidst the
less and less easy to explain away dramatics, he commands the screen whenever
he’s on. Shirley Knight meanwhile delivers an elegantly eerie performance as
Doe’s mother, arriving to impart an earnest warning about her son, then
departing with ethereal serenity. And then there’s Slovenian actor Zeljko
Ivanek in the first of what thus far tallies in excess of a hundred film and
television roles, large and small; he most recently cropped up in 2017’s Three
Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. His John Doe is at once scary and
sympathetic, and on the strength of his stellar performance it’s easy to see
why he continued in the profession with such success.
With
moody cinematography from debuting DoP Roger Pratt (Brazil, Batman) and a score
by Trevor Jones (The Dark Crystal, Angel Heart) that spans the thrill-infused
to the breezily melodic, The Sender is arguably Roger Christian’s most enjoyable
film and well worth spending time with.
Arrow
Video have done a splendid job with their restoration, which looks absolutely
luscious on their new Blu-ray release. The supplements comprise an audio
commentary from Roger Christian, interviews with Thomas Baum and Paul Freeman,
an overview of psychic horror in the cinema from genre guru Kim Newman, a
decent sized step-through stills gallery, a trawl through all the extended,
alternate and deleted material in Baum’s shooting script, and a trailer. And
what would any Arrow release be without reversible sleeve art and an attractive
limited edition collectors’ booklet?
The James Bond film "Licence to Kill" opened in the summer of 1989. Although it was a hit worldwide, American grosses were anemic- at least by James Bond standards. The film marked Timothy Dalton's second and final appearance as 007 as the movie opened against a number of blockbuster films that saw it wither by comparison in terms of boxoffice. Critics were also largely unimpressed with the new, realistic tone of a revenge plot and a grim James Bond in a fairly humorless story. But some of us knew we were seeing something exciting an innovative here. Roger Moore had a very successful run over a twelve year period but even he admitted he went a film too far, bowing out after the goofy "A View to a Kill" in 1985. Dalton took over the reigns with "The Living Daylights" in 1987. Fans and critics seemed relieved to have a more realistic portrayal of Bond on the big screen. "Licence to Kill" dared to upset the formula completely, paving the way for Daniel Craig's somber version of Bond that premiered to wide acclaim in 2006. "Licence" is the Rodney Dangerfield of Bond movies: it don't get no respect. Many Bond fans loathe it but perhaps a critical reassessment is underway. The film is far from perfect and there are some loose ends that could have been improved, but Dalton is terrific, as is Robert Davi as his nemesis, Sanchez. It's also director John Glen's most assured achievement in the Bond canon. Writing in the Hollywood Reporter, Phil Pirrello provides a thoughtful and positive article about the film's ultimate impact on the franchise, albeit it the innovations were deemed to be unacceptable at the time. Click here to read.
That’s
a key line in Alan J. Pakula’s 1971 film Klute, which has just been released in
a new Criterion Collection edition. The line is delivered by a New York City
call girl named Bree Daniels, as portrayed by Jane Fonda, who won a Best
Actress in a Leading Role Oscar for this performance.
“It’s
easy to manipulate men†is a striking declaration, especially when it comes
from the mouth of a paid sexual escort. But some context is necessary here,
because when Daniels utters that line to her psychiatrist – in one of a few
crucial scenes that take place in Daniels’s shrink’s office – she is actually
talking about the one man in her life whom she’s not sure she can control. This
is John Klute (played by Donald Sutherland), a strait-laced fellow from a
no-name town in Pennsylvania. A friend of Klute’s from PA, this guy a
successful businessman and seemingly happily married man, has gone missing. The
FBI has reason to believe his disappearance may be connected to Daniels, whom
he must have met while on a business trip in New York and to whom he appears to
have a perverted fascination. When the feds can’t locate the missing man, the
family, in conjunction with a business associate, hires his friend Klute to go
to the big city and work through the call girl in an attempt to track him down.
But much more happens between Klute and Daniels than them joining efforts to
solve the mystery of the vanished man. And this disturbs the escort, who is
comfortably accustomed to being able to remain emotionally detached in her
relations to members of the opposite sex.
To
a great extent, Klute is a film driven by contrasts. The contrast between the
apparently normal lifestyle led by the missing man, with the more sordid,
sinister doings he appears to have gotten up to in his interactions with the
New York call girl. The contrast between the reserved, repressed Klute and the
expressive, psychologically volatile, sexually liberated Daniels. The contrast
between Daniels’s life as an escort, where she is in command of the men who pay
for her company and sexual favors, and her endeavors to break into acting,
where she is shown to be just another face in the crowd, and unwanted. The contrast between the movie’s overall
somber, eerie tones with the Bacchanalian, seedy atmosphere in the club scenes.
The contrast between the story’s suspense film elements and its following of an
unconventional romance.
It’s
odd that the movie is called Klute. Because that suggests that the tight-lipped
detective-for-hire is the most central character. Anyone who’s viewed Klute
knows that the story revolves around Daniels, and that John Klute is just
another person who’s transfixed by the unpredictable doings of the complicated,
dynamic call girl. Fonda, who was reluctant to take the role of Daniels, to the
point of telling Pakula he should forget about her and cast Faye Dunaway
instead, wound up owning the part. Sutherland is also impressive in playing the
enigmatic Klute in a manner that makes him the ultimate interpersonal challenge
to Daniels.
There
aren’t many significant supporting roles in the film, but among the few, both
Roy Scheider (Daniels’s former pimp) and Charles Cioffi (the business executive
man who oversees Klute’s mission) are convincing. Rita Gam makes a memorable,
if brief, appearance as a madam, and it’s an unexpected treat to see Jean “Edith Bunkerâ€
Stapleton in a bit part. Director of Photography Gordon Willis’s
darkness-oriented work is spot-on, and Michael Small’s experimental, effective
score sounds like it could be music provided by Ennio Morricone for an Italian
giallo thriller.
In
all, Klute is a masterwork. It’s a stunning achievement for Pakula,
particularly considering that it was only his second directorial effort to date.
It works as an eerie suspense story, but is more deeply satisfying as a
character study of a believable, intriguing, complex woman. It perfectly set
the tone for what would become known as Pakula’s “paranoid trilogy,†the other
titles being The Parallax View (1974) and All the President’s Men (’76).
Regarding
the Criterion extras, the transfer looks beautiful, as one would expect. Mark
Harris’s booklet essay is somewhat interesting, but the better part of that
packaging is the set of eye-opening excerpts from a 1972 Sight & Sound
interview with Pakula.
The
first of the featurettes is 20 minutes or so from a documentary about Pakula -
this includes current and archival interview snippets with a film historian, a
former student of Pakula’s, Charles Cioffi, and Pakula himself. There’s a new
interview of Fonda by Ileana Douglas; a discussion of the film’s look and style
by a fashion historian; a 1978 TV interview of Pakula by Dick Cavett in which
they discuss Klute and Pakula’s other work as both a film director and producer;
a 1973 interview of Fonda by Midge Mackenzie, this largely centered around
Fonda’s political activism at the time; and, finally,“Klute in New York,†a short documentary
about the making of the film, at the time that it was being put together. Among
the video bonus features, the first few are somewhere between vaguely
interesting and ho-hum, but the Cavett/Pakula and Mackenzie/Fonda interviews
are fascinating and highly worthwhile, as is the “Klute in New Yorkâ€
featurette.
Lieutenant Fred Williams (Jack Hedley) is easily the
horror cinema’s most pedestrian, laid back, and disinterested police detective
in recent memory. In Lucio Fulci’s infamous slasher outing The New York Ripper
(1982), a spate of brutal crimes involving young women being sliced up by a
knife-wielding maniac who quacks like a duck (yes, you read that right) lands right
smack into Williams’s lap and he couldn’t be more bored by it. Mr. Hedley’s
characterization of this by-the-book investigator was no doubt in the script,
but his character just meanders through his scenes with such an aloof attitude
that it’s amazing no one calls him out on it. The few times Williams does
appear to spring to life are when the sex lives of his victims are revealed,
which he reacts to with a judgmental shrug and smirk when he’s extricating a
motive from the morgue pathologist (Giordano Falzoni) or informing one Dr.
Lodge (Cosimo Cinieri, credited here as “Laurence Wellesâ€) that the effects of
his open marriage have resulted in the death of his sexually adventurous wife
Jane Lodge. This is a hypocritical reaction considering that he himself
frequents a prostitute named Kitty (Daniela Doria), a fact not lost on the
“quacker†who phones Williams at Kitty’s apartment just to let him know that he
has his eye on him! Williams himself is genuinely confounded by this unexpected
breach of privacy which gives him some resolve to find the killer with slightly
more urgency, but not by much – it also puts Kitty in danger.
The murders in this film are gory, graphic and
protracted. Any seasoned slasher fan will easily differentiate between the
actual performers and the graphic make-up effects created to look like the
female anatomy, be it a decomposed human hand retrieved by a dog at the film’s
start, a young victim named Rosie (Cinzia de Ponti) slashed on the Staten
Island Ferry, a sex performer named Eva (Zora Kerova) who meets a violent end
thanks to a smashed bottle, or the aforementioned Jane (Alexandra Delli Colli)
who gets more than she bargained for when her sexual shenanigans go south. It’s
obvious to both Williams and his police chief (played by Lucio Fulci!) that the
“quacker†is a misogynist. It’s a good thing he isn’t a doctor. A prime suspect
is a sex show spectator with two missing fingers, Mickey Scellenda (Renato
Rossini, credited here as “Howard Rossâ€), who meets Jane at an insalubrious 42nd
Street theater and later engages in some consensual BDSM with her at a flea bag
motel that begins to exceed even her limits. Jane goes from being an aroused
spectator to a willing participant. Scellenda then sets his sights on Fay
Majors (Almanta Keller), a young woman who foolishly rides the graffiti-riddled
subway train alone in the middle of the night, and later attacks her before her
physicist boyfriend Peter (Andrew Painter) comes to her rescue.
Williams enlists the help of a psychotherapy professor,
Dr. Paul Davis (Paolo Malco of Mr. Fulci’s The House by the Cemetery), who is
prepped as the Simon Oakland character in Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960) and
creates a psychological profile of the killer. Barbara Cupisti makes her
Italian horror film screen debut and appears briefly as an assistant. She would
go on to star as Alicia in Michele Soavi’s phenomenal Stage Fright five years
later.
More surprising than the violent murders are the sexually
charged scenes that lend a high degree of uneasiness to the whole affair. A
live sex shows plays more like a softcore porn interlude, and the film’s
arguably most disturbing sequence involves what amounts to Jane being raped in
a pool hall by a creepy player (Josh Cruze) egged on by his equally creepy
friend (Antoine Pagan). Even Dr. Davis is portrayed as a closet homosexual,
purchasing a copy of BlueBoy magazine at a newsstand and hiding it inside a
copy of the New York Post (think about that for a minute!). I can only imagine
what the audiences in 1982 must have thought about this film. In 2019, it’s
distressing to say that far worse is available to see on the Web to eyes just
as jaded as Lieutenant Williams’s.
One would think that the duck quacking would have turned
this film into a comedy and while there are moments that do elicit laughter,
the whole thing is actually played straight, so straight in fact that when the
denouement arrives courtesy of the requisite deus ex-machina, the killer is
revealed in one of the bleakest endings in giallo history.
Filmed in New York City between August and October in
1981 during an especially seedy time in Times Square’s history, The New York
Ripper is one of the most controversial and infamous giallo films of the
decade, or perhaps ever. Mr. Fulci’s work has always been uneven to me, lacking
the color that featured so prominently in Mario Bava’s work and the highly
stylized cinematic look that punctuates the best work of Dario Argento. Anyone
who saw this film during its theatrical exhibition on 42nd Street in 1984
probably never would have imagined that the film could look as good as it does
in the new 4K-remastered Blu-ray that Blue-Underground has just released, or
they were probably too drunk and stoned to even care. If you saw it on the
Vidmark VHS release, this new and completely uncut version reveals a film that
none of us have seen before. This transfer is reference quality and reveals
image nuances previously unseen, on a par with the fine work that
Blue-Underground has done previously on William Lustig’s Maniac (1981), another
gory slasher, with full 4K restoration. Any previous versions of the film on
home video pale in comparison to this new transfer.
The new three-disc Blu-ray contains many new extras,
which include:
A very cool lenticular sleeve cover that the Blu-ray case
fits into.
Disc One:
A full-length audio commentary by Troy Howarth who once
again provides a highly detailed and entertaining overview of the film at hand,
making no apologies for being a fan. Extremely insightful and highly
knowledgeable, Mr. Howarth points out interesting tidbits along the way and
allows the viewer to experience the film in a new light.
The Art of Killing (about 30 minutes in high definition,
2019) – This is an onscreen interview with Dardano Sacchetti, a prolific
screenwriter whose is probably best known to the horror film fans as the
screenwriter or story originator of The Cat O’Nine Tales (1971), Shock (1977), Zombie
(1979), City of the Living Dead (1980), The Beyond (1981), The House by the
Cemetery (1981), Demons (1986) and Demons 2 (1988). He speaks at length about
working with Mr. Fulci on a script about progeria, a disease that ages the
cells and tissues to such an extent that the victim dies by age 18. Anyone
remember Ralph Macchio in The Three Wishes of Billy Grier (1984)? He also
explains that Italian horror cinema always has a further ending, a double
ending, and a final ending. Highly entertaining raconteur.
Three Fingers of Violence (about 15 minutes in high
definition, 2019) is an onscreen interview with actor Howard Ross who plays
Mickey Scendella in the film. He recounts meeting Mr. Fulci at a dinner party
and auditioned for the film soon after. He also laughs about being mistaken for
Charles Bronson while filming in Times Square. Spoken in Italian with
non-removable and legible English subtitles.
The Second Victim (about 13 minutes in high definition,
2019) is an onscreen interview with actress Cinzia de Ponti who plays Rosie.
She was discovered after being named “Miss Italia†in a beauty contest. Spoken
in Italian with non-removable and legible English subtitles.
The Broken Bottle Murder (about 13 minutes in high
definition, 2019) is an onscreen interview with actress Zora Kerova who describes
working with Mr. Fulci on this scene, but not knowing that it required sex and
nudity until it was time to film. Spoken in Italian with non-removable and
legible English subtitles.
“I’m an Actress†(about 9 minutes in high definition,
2009) is an onscreen interview with actress Zora Kerova who describes working
with Mr. Fulci on her scene, and also her work with Bruno Mattei and Umberto
Lenzi. This is ported over from the Blue Underground single disc Blu-ray
release from 2009.
The Beauty Killer (about 23 minutes in high definition,
2019) is an onscreen, English language explanation of giallo films from critic
and author Stephen Thrower who explains that these films became more and more
violent for one simple reason: they want to push the envelope and show the
audience something that they haven’t seen yet in an effort to make more money.
Paint Me Blood Red (about 17 minutes in high definition,
2019) is my favorite extra because it introduces us to one of cinema’s unsung
heroes, movie poster artist Enzo Sciotti. This man has created some of the most
stunning and gorgeous artwork ever created for horror films. His work for Dario
Argento’s Phenomena (1985) beautifully captures the spirit of the film, while
his work for Paganini Horror (1989) is the only redeeming thing about that
film. Spoken in Italian with non-removable and legible English subtitles.
NYC Locations Then and Now (about 4 minutes in high
definition, 2009) compares the filming locations from 1981 to 2009 when the
comparisons were made. This is ported over from the Blue Underground single
disc Blu-ray release from 2009.
Theatrical Trailer
Poster and Still Gallery – while there are many images
presented here, I’m not sure if many of them appeared as lobby cards since they
depict graphic sex and violence. Granted, Europe is more liberal than the US,
and when I walked through Times Square for the first time in May 1980, I was
shocked by the explicit images on display when Friday the 13th was in release.
There is also a beautifully illustrated, 18-page booklet
containing an essay, Fulci Quacks Up: The Unrelenting Grimness of “THE NEW YORK
RIPPERâ€, which accompanies the set.
Disc Two:
This consists of a DVD that includes everything that the
Blu-ray offers.
Disc Three:
This consists of a 29-track compact disc of the film’s
original soundtrack album.
"Casablanca" symbolizes a great American film that has transcended being a popular hit to becoming an internationally loved classic film. Unlike many great films, it didn't take many years for audiences to appreciate its stature as a classic, as evidenced by the Hollywood Reporter's original review from 1942. Click here to read.
Basil Dearden’s intriguing The Man Who Haunted Himself is a feature-length remake of a
thirty-minute televised episode of Alfred
Hitchcock’s Presents.That episode -
from the 1955 program’s first season - had the distinction of having been
directed by the maestro of suspense himself.It was one of only a handful of dramas in the series that Hitchcock
chose to helm.The episode was based on Anthony
Armstrong’s short story (later novelized) “The Strange Case of Mr. Pelhamâ€
(Methuen & Co. Ltd., UK, 1957).The
book was later published that very same year in the U.S. as part of Doubleday
& Co.’s fabled “Crime Club†series.
Armstrong’s psychological thriller had been originally
published in the November 1940 issue of Esquire
magazine.The short story was later re-sold
and re-published in June 1955 as part of Ellery
Queen’s Mystery Magazine… which is likely where Hitchcock became acquainted
with it.(If interested, the entire
first season of the Hitchcock program, including “The Case of Mr. Pelham,†can
be found on one of the Alfred Hitchcock
Presents sets issued by Universal Pictures Home Entertainment in 2006.That is, of course, assuming you can get the
discs to play; there were all sorts of unwelcome pressing issues associated with
that DVD set).
Kino Lorber’s Special Edition Blu-ray of The Man Who Haunted Himself is a
co-venture with Britain’s StudioCanal label.It’s the second digital copy to make it onto my groaning shelves.StudioCanal issued the film in 2013 as a
Region 2 DVD and this UK edition was generous in their bonus supplements.The StudioCanal set included a standalone
thirty-four minute “music suite†of composer Michael J. Lewis’s memorable score,
a 2005 recorded commentary featuring Roger Moore and Bryan Forbes, the original
theatrical trailer, image galleries and even a PDF of promotional materials
used to market the film in 1970.
This new release on Blu by Kino here in the U.S. welcomingly
ports over the Moore/Forbes commentary (moderated by Jonathon Sothcott, author
of The Cult Films of Christopher Lee.The Sothcott tome might be of some additional
interest as it carries a preface by none other than “Sir Roger Moore (O.B.E.).â€
This Kino release also includes the film’s original trailer (as well as
trailers of three additional Moore films, Gold,
Street People, and The Naked Face.)We’re also treated to an informative bonus
supplement that features director Joe Dante and Hitchcock historian Stuart
Gordon musing on the film’s back stories and production history.
Though The Man Who
Haunted Himself is mostly regarded as a thriller in the Hitchcock tradition,
Dante suggests it serves as a genuine horror film as well: there are moments in
the film, he contends, that can still send a “chill up the backs†of movie-going
audiences.Dante and Gordon both reference
the Alfred Hitchcock Presents episode
of 1955 as the film’s immediate forebear, but Gordon suggests that Armstrong’s short
story goes back even further in conception.He proposes the story is essentially a reworking of the Hans Christian
Andersen fable “The Shadow,†first published in 1847.
Roger Moore had offered on numerous occasions that his
turn as Harold Pelham was a personally rewarding one.For a graduate of the London’s prestigious
Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts, Moore would often commiserate he was rarely
given the opportunity to be “dramatically stretched†in his chosen profession.Certainly his popular TV roles as
cosmopolitan playboy-adventurers Simon Templar and Brett Sinclair – not to
mention his casting as the longest-serving James Bond – hadn’t allowed Moore to
demonstrate his mettle as a “serious†actor.
The
Man Who Haunted Himself certainly is more representative of his
abilities, with Moore estimating Basil Dearden and Michael Relph’s screenplay
as “one of the best scripts I’d ever read.â€There’s even a tease of what was soon to come buried within the dialogue.Discussing the possibility of internal leaks
of confidential and sensitive information, Moore confidently cautions his worried
colleagues that acts of industrial “espionage isn’t all James Bond and Her
Majesty’s Secret Service.â€For Moore, it
soon would be.
Moore’s performance is undisputedly wonderful in this,
though in my estimation the film – while never uninteresting - remains an
intriguing curiosity with an unsatisfying and confusing finale.Others have found the film to be an
under-appreciated off-the-radar masterpiece.Moore gets to play two characters in this, the colorless Harold Pelham
as well as his own calculating doppelganger.Basil Dearden’s direction is top-notch (and dizzyingly unorthodox in a
scene where Moore and eccentric psychiatrist (Freddie Jones) discuss the state
of his declining mental health).The Man Who Haunted Himself would,
tragically, be Dearden’s last feature film effort.The helmsman of such films as Woman of Straw and Khartoum, Dearden would die from injuries sustained following an
automobile crash on the M4 in 1971.Ironically, this is very same stretch of highway that Moore’s Pelham fails
to circumnavigate near the film’s beginning.He loses control of his Rover while driving recklessly at 110 kilometers
per hour.The calamitous car crash
results in Pelham suffering a near-death experience which, essentially, ignites
the tale that will unwind.
Twilight Time has issued a Blu-ray release of the 1968
western "Bandolero!" as a region-free title that is limited to 3,000
units. The film is top-notch entertainment on all levels- the kind of
movie that was considered routine in in its day but which can be more
appreciated today. The story opens with a bungled bank robbery carried out by
Dee Bishop (Dean Martin) and his motley gang. In the course of the robbery two
innocent people are killed including a local businessman and land baron, Stoner
(Jock Mahoney). The gang is captured by Sheriff July Johnson (George Kennedy)
and his deputy Roscoe Bookbinder (Andrew Prine) and are sentenced to be hanged.
Meanwhile Dee's older brother Mace (James Stewart), a rogue himself, gets wind
of the situation and waylays the eccentric hangman while he is enroute to carry
out the execution. By assuming the man's identity. he is able to afford Mace
and his gang the opportunity to cheat death at the last minute. When they flee
the town they take along an "insurance policy"- Stoner's vivacious
young widow Maria (Raquel Welch) who they kidnap along the way. This opening
section of the film is especially entertaining, mixing genuine suspense with
some light-hearted moments such as Mace calmly robbing the bank when all the
men ride off in a posse to chase down the would-be bank robbers.
Mace and Dee reunite on the trail and the gang crosses
the Rio Grande into Mexico- with July and a posse wiling to violate international
law by chasing after them in hot pursuit. Much of the film is rather talky by
western standards but the script by James Lee Barrett makes the most of these
campfire conversations by fleshing out the supporting characters. Dee's outlaw
gang makes characters from a Peckinpah movie look like boy scouts. Among them
is an aging outlaw, Pop Cheney (Will Geer), a well-spoken but disloyal, greedy
man who is overly protective of his somewhat shy son, Joe (Tom Heaton). The
presence of Maria predictably results in numerous gang members attempting to
molest her but their efforts are thwarted by Dee, who always comes to her
rescue. Before long, Maria is making goo-goo eyes at her protector,
conveniently forgetting he is also the man who slew her innocent husband. (The
script tries to get around this by explaining that while her husband was a
decent man who treated her well, she could never get over the fact that he
literally bought her as a teenager from her impoverished family). The story
also puts some meat on the bone in terms of Dee and Mace's somewhat fractured
relationship. Both of them have been saddle tramps but Mace informs Dee that
his reputation as a notorious outlaw allowed their mother, who Dee neglected,
to go to her grave with a broken heart. Every time the script might become
bogged down in these maudlin aspects of the characters, a good dose of humor is
injected.
Actor Rip Torn has died at age 88. He was a volatile figure in the entertainment industry, known for his sometimes bizarre behavior as well as his brilliant performances. A native Texan, he gravitated to New York City in the 1950s where he studied under Lee Strasberg at the legendary Actors Studio. He was championed by director Elia Kazan, who gave Torn high profile roles in his stage and film productions. Torn gained major acclaim with a Tony-nominated performance on Broadway in "Sweet Bird of Youth", a role he would reprise in the 1963 film version. Torn's film career occasionally saw him attain leading man status but he remained a highly acclaimed supporting actor throughout his career. His feature films include "A Face in the Crowd", "Baby Doll", "The Cincinnati Kid", "Pork Chop Hill", "King of Kings", "Beach Red", "Coming Apart", "Tropic of Cancer", "Crazy Joe", "The Man Who Fell to Earth", "Coma" and the 1983 film "Cross Creek', for which he was nominated for a Best Supporting Actor Oscar. For the 1968 thriller "Sol Madrid", Torn was called upon at the last minute by MGM to play the villain opposite David McCallum after John Cassavettes, who had originally filmed the role became very ill the day before shooting the finale, thus causing all of his scenes to be reshot with Torn. Later in his career, he made a splash with his appearances as the quirky intelligence chief in the "Men in Black" films and won fine notices for Albert Brooks' comedy "Defending Your Life". In the 1990s, Torn's television career soared to new heights with his recurring role on HBO's "The Larry Sanders Show", which would see him nominated for six Emmys. He would later earn more Emmy nominations for his role on the "30 Rock" sitcom. Roles earlier work in television included "Playhouse 90", "Ben Casey", "Combat!", "Dr. Kildare", "Rawhide", "Bonanza", "Mannix" and "Columbo". He had one of his most memorable roles in a 1965 two-part episode of "The Man from U.N.C.L.E" titled "The Alexander the Greater Affair" in which he played a villain who wants to attain power by systematically breaking each of the Ten Commandments in order.
(Above: Torn on the set of "The Man from U.N.C.L.E." with Dorothy Provine and David McCallum.)
Despite his success in the entertainment business, Torn was a man who had many personal demons that affected his life and career. He was originally cast in the role that gained Jack Nicholson stardom in "Easy Rider" but he had a falling out with the film's star and director, Dennis Hopper, who stated publicly that Torn lost the role because he had pulled a knife on him over dinner, an accusation that Torn refuted and ultimately won a libel case over. However, he was known for erratic behavior and in a bizarre 2010 incident he was arrested after breaking into a bank. Nevertheless, Torn's legacy as one of the most reliable and interesting character actors of his generation remains intact.
Maria Schneider and Marlon Brando in Bernardo Bertolucci's Last Tango in Paris (1972.
In the 1960s and 1970s there was an explosion of sex in the cinema as filmmakers, making the most of new-found freedoms, tried to compensate for decades of self-censorship in the industry. Much of the sex depicted on screen was pure exploitation, to be sure, but some of it was profound and resulted in the first truly adult looks at sexual relationships to be shown to mainstream audiences, at least since the silent and early sound era before the dreaded Hays Code of censorship was imposed. Films such as Last Tango in Paris, The Night Porter and The Devils were extremely controversial in their day with some critics acclaiming them as cinematic classics while others denounced them as high class pornography masquerading as art. Nevertheless, sexual content in films has traditionally pushed the envelope. However, in recent years- with a few exceptions primarily seen in art house releases- it has diminished in major studio releases. Ann Hornaday, film critic for the Washington Post, is not happy about it. She posits that studios are concentrating on big blockbusters that present sex in a pure vanilla, watered-down manner that is calculated not to offend. She misses films such as Body Heat and Fatal Attraction that combined compelling plots with sensuality. She says that when filmed with skill, sex scenes can play a key role in making movies not only memorable but artistic as well. Click here to read.
The year 1976 was a phenomenal time for films
that went into production. George Lucas’s space opera, Star Wars began principal photography in March; Steven Spielberg,
fresh off the success of Jaws, was
given carte blanche to bring Close Encounters of the Third Kind to
the screen and began shooting in May; and Dario Argento, who became emboldened
by the financial success of his latest and arguably best film to date, Profundo Rosso (known in the U.S. as Deep Red), embarked upon Suspiria, a murder mystery involving a
dance school hiding in plain sight while housing a coven of witches, which
began filming in July. Horror author Clive Barker once described this supernatural
extravaganza as what you would imagine a horror film to be like if you weren’t allowed
to see it. I believe that this is a good description of what is unquestionably
one of the most frightening, entertaining and colorful horror films ever made. Suspiria was edited for its American
theatrical exhibition due to some graphic violence that many would have
considered shocking for its day. Distributor 20th Century Fox was
reportedly so embarrassed by the film that they created a subsidiary company,
International Classics, to release it three months after their phenomenally
successful Star Wars, another film
they had no faith in.
Suspiria opened in New York
on Friday, August 12, 1977 at the long-gone Criterion on 45th and
Broadway before branching out to additional theaters. It’s the first in a
trilogy concerning the nature of Death (Inferno
(1980) and The Mother of Tears (2007)
are the second and third parts, respectively). The film’s quad-syllabic title
quite understandably leaves those who attempt to say it tongue-tied (it’s
pronounced sus-PEER-ee-ah). The word itself
has its origins in Latin and roughly translates into “sighs†or “whispers†and
the film is based upon the writings of British essayist Thomas De Quincey. His
most famous work, Confessions of an
English Opium Eater, was published in 1822. Twenty-three years later he
published Suspiria de Profundis which
is Latin for “Sighs from the Depths†and is a collection of essays, the most
famous of which is Levana and Our Ladies
of Sorrow which Mr. Argento used as the source material for his
trilogy.
In Suspiria,
Suzy Bannion, played by doe-eyed Jessica Harper (who was Woody Allen’s
girlfriend at the time and passed on Annie
Hall because she wanted to go to Italy), arrives in Frieberg, Germany to
begin dance lessons at the famous Tanz Academie (the architecture is copied
from Haus zum Walfisch in Freiberg). From the film’s opening frames, we already
know that we are in uncharted territory as the images are bathed in diffused
primary colors. Upon her arrival
at the airport, things are already not what they seem. Once she leaves the
premises and the glass doors close behind her, she enters a fairy tale in the
form of an unusually violent thunderstorm. Hitching a ride from a taxi
driver played by Argento regular Fulvio Mingozzi (min-GOATS-see), who worked for the director no less than ten times
in both film and television episodes, she makes her way to the school (as a
side-note, eagle-eyed viewers can see the director’s reflection in the glass
partition in the taxi 3:31 minutes into the film and it lasts for two seconds.
He appears, with a large smile on his face, in the lower left-hand corner of
the screen).
Just as she arrives, a hysterical woman, Pat
Hingle (Eva Axen), appears on the school’s doorstep and makes an unintelligible
proclamation before bolting into the deluge-swept streets. Suzy carps with a
woman on the intercom, pleading for entry and refuge from the torrential rain. When
she’s denied, she re-enters the taxi and rides through the Black Forest,
catching a glimpse of Pat as she runs, attempting to make her way past the
trees. What could possibly have set her off on such a perilous journey?
Pat makes her way to her friend Sonia’s (Susanna Javicoli) apartment,
hesitant to disclose what she has come to learn about the school. In what is
considered Argento’s finest hour and the film’s most disturbing and celebrated
sequence, Pat is violently stabbed by some inhuman creature with hairy arms and
long black fingernails and is thrown through a stained-glass window, the shards
of which also kill Sonia. It’s been compared with the shower scene in Psycho (1960) for pure shock effect,
though this one is much more graphic.
The calm following the storm reveals a
strange faculty staff consisting of lead ballet teacher Ms. Tanner (Alida Valli),
headmistress Madame Blanc (Joan Bennett), pianist Daniel (Flavio Bucci), and
Pavlos (Giuseppe Transocchi) the handyman. Suzy is told by the headmistress
that one of their expelled students, Pat, was murdered by a madman the night
before. Wouldn’t that be enough to send one packing their bags? The same scenario
plays out for Jennifer Connelly in the director’s other macabre coming-of-age
horror film, Phenomena (1985), and the
information in that film is met with nothing more than a smile and silence. Unbeknownst
to Suzy, the school is a front for a coven of witches who hold black masses
within the massive building’s stealthy labyrinths. Her suspicions that all is
not right with the school become confirmed when people around her suddenly disappear
or are killed off. Like previous Argento protagonists, Suzy plays sleuth to
gain insight into the bizarre goings-on, especially the teachers’ concerted
effort to hide the directress’s presence from her. When she teams up with Sarah
(Stefania Casini) to find out more about one Helena Markos, more people begin
to die as Suzy learns of a shocking secret that lies behind an imperceptible
door.
Suspiria’s simple premise
permits Mr. Argento to stage some of the most shocking and elaborate death
sequences of his career, all performed in-camera (that is without the use of
opticals or blue-screen technology used later in post-production). The Italian
progressive rock band Goblin provides a phenomenal score that, unbelievably,
was composed before filming began and was played on the film’s soundstages
during shooting to maximize the effect on the performers. It’s an astonishing
concoction with shrieks, whispers and wails, which I always assumed to be
non-diegetic in nature, acting almost as a macabre precursor to the far more
relaxing Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response (ASMR) videos that have taken YouTube
by storm.
Mr. Argento has also put together an eclectic
cast, the bulk of whom are women. Joan Bennett, who appeared in Fritz Lang’s coincidentally
titled Secret Beyond the Door… with
Michael Redgrave (1947) as well as her stint on Dark Shadows, provides the proper amount of sinister air that the
film requires. Alida Valli is terrific as Miss Tanner, the “stern and surlyâ€
ballet teacher, arguably the most memorable in the cast. Jessica Harper, fresh
off her role as Phoenix in Brian DePalma’s wildly entertaining Phantom of the Paradise (1974), appears
naïve but turns out to be anything but as she goes to greater-than-usual
lengths to uncover The Big Secret.
Suspiria is unique in that it
was shot on Eastman Kodak film but printed using the now-defunct three-strip
Technicolor dye transfer process which divided the negative into three individual
color bands of red, green, and blue. By manipulating the intensities of these
primary colors both on the set and in the lab, cinematographer Luciano Tovoli
was able to create some truly horrific and stunning images. The set design is
garish, colorful and must be seen to be believed. The
color scheme seems to have been inspired by Walt Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarves (1937) and dance film aficionados
will likely also think of Emeric Pressburger and Michael Powell’s stunning 1948
technicolor film The Red Shoes and their follow-up, 1951’s The
Tales of Hoffman (George A. Romero’s favorite film), but the story seems inspired
by Chicho
Ibáñez-Serrador’s La Residencia, a terrific horror opus from 1970 which pits the borstal’s
headmistress, Senora Fourneau (played brilliantly by Lilli Palmer), against a
school of young women in need of reform. There is a predatory air about
Fourneau that carries over to Ms. Tanner in Suspiria.
A case might even be made that Ms. Tanner is a psychological cinematic
equivalent of the malevolent and sadistic Mrs. Wakehurst in Peter Walker’s House of Whipcord (1974). La Residencia has appeared under such
titles as The Finishing School, The Boarding School and here in the
States as The House That Screamed when
it was released on a double-bill with Anthony M. Lanza’s The Incredible 2-Headed Transplant in July 1971.
Kino Classics and the film preservationists at France’s
Lobster Films have dug up three interesting, if obscure, old “classics†that,
if nothing else, definitely would have qualified for presentation on Art Fern’s
old Tea Time Movie skits from Johnny Carson's "Tonight Show". Names like Helen Twelvetrees, William Farnum, J. Farrell
MacDonald, Lowell Sherman, Wade Boteler, Louis Wolheim, and Evelyn Brent appear
in the films gathered together here on one disc under the title, “RKO Classic
Adventures.â€
The first is “The Painted Desert†(1931) starring Helen
Twelvetrees and Bill Boyd (who at this early date had not yet played Hopalong
Cassidy, and went by Bill rather than William). The story starts out as a cross
between John Ford’s “3 Godfathers†and Sam Peckinpah’s “Ballad of Cable Hogue.â€
Cash Holbrook (William Farnum) and Jeff Cameron (J. Farrell MacDonald) are two
cowboys who discover an abandoned wagon in the Arizona desert containing a baby
boy. The two argue over who will take care of him, with Holbrook pulling a gun
on his partner and riding off with the infant. Cameron intends to stay put on
the spot where he found the boy because it’s got the only water between town
and the railroad. Years go by and the two men become bitter enemies. Cameron
married and had a daughter, Mary (Helen Twelvetrees), while Holbrook raised the
boy, now called Bill. You don’t need much imagination to figure out what’s
going to happen with this set up. However, a complication arises, when Clark
Gable, in his first talkie appearance, shows up as a drifter named Rance Brett and
takes a job on Cameron’s spread. He has eyes for Mary. There’s an interesting
subplot regarding a mining operation that unites the two old enemies
temporarily only to have it blow up in their faces, literally.
“The Pay-Off†(1930) is, as Kino’s liner notes say, “a cool-minded
gangster movie directed by and starring Lowell Sherman as an honorable mobster
in a dishonorable racket.†Sherman was a popular star in the silent era and on
stage, often playing suave villains. He directed films starring Katharine
Hepburn and Greta Garbo. In “The Pay-Off,†he’s Gene Fenmore, the head of a
jewelry heist ring. His main problem is keeping control of his gang. His
leadership is being challenged by younger and ruthless rival, Rocky (Hugh
Trevor). Rocky has no scruples about robbing a young couple he accosts in a
park when he learns they have $250 they intend to use to get married. The kids
turn the tables on him however because they recognize him and follow him to
Fenmore’s apartment where the gang is meeting (Pretty nervy of them, I’d say!) The kids bumble the attempt to get
their money back and Rocky wants to waste them but Fenmore has a soft spot for
the youngsters and takes them under his wing. Things go bad when Rocky, unknown
to Fenmore, turns the young couple into the fall guys in a jewelry store heist.
It’s a lot of sentimental hooey from there, but has a certain charm.
With the star power of Judy Garland and Gene Kelly, a
riotous score by Cole Porter, sensational choreography, and truly eye-popping
Technicolor, on paper Vincente Minnelli’s The Pirate has all of the trappings of
the smash hit musicals of the Golden Era, though went on to be an example that
this mathematical equation to success in the film industry was not as
predictable as it appeared. As a reinterpretation of S.N Behrman’s play by the same
title, which poked fun at the tropes of the swashbuckler genre, the film
traipses into the less traversed waters of satire, actively differentiating
from the mainstream musical narratives of the time arguably to a fault. Despite
being one of Minelli’s most notorious box office flops and having been eroded
from cultural consciousness unlike its cinematic relatives such as An American
in Paris or Meet Me in St. Louis, a quiet but impassioned debate has survived
into modernity; is The Pirate a lost experimental masterpiece that dared to
explore the social taboos of 1940s American culture, or a forgettable misstep
with glaring tonal and narrative inconsistencies?
Writing on the site Pocket, Ian Frazier presents a short but insightful article about the mysterious things that bond people together in fear. Sensibly, he posits that no matter how awful crimes may be, we can ultimately learn to deal with their aftermath because we can make sense of them. They have been committed by a person or people. But what of those things that go "bump" in the night? Frazier's article doesn't relate to films but the point he makes is easily transferable to an appreciation of the horror/suspense film genres. Most contemporary movies achieve depicting horrible images but they are not necessarily suspenseful. For my money, films such as Robert Wise's The Haunting and Jack Clayton's The Innocents deliver the goods because there is an ambiguity about what we see or don't see. Both films are classic haunted house tales but we are never quite certain whether the allusions to the supernatural are simply illusions. Once in a while, the film industry still gets it right, as in the case of The Blair Witch Project, which tantalizingly leaves any sensible explanation for the horrific events shrouded in mystery. Even those of us who are skeptics about the existence of the supernatural will have to confess that there are times when we have let our imagination get the better of us. Who among us can't relate some eerie circumstance that we have yet to find a way to deal with? If you are home alone late at night during a bad storm (speaking of cliches!) and you hear a thumping coming from the attic, it's only a bothersome noise if you recall there was a loose shutter on the window that you keep forgetting to repair. However, if there isn't a loose shutter, the sound can represent something more ominous precisely because it is what you can't see or explain that really scares the bejesus out of us. Click here to read Ian Frazier's article.
Here is a brief but informative look at the comic genius Marty Feldman, reflecting how he took a physical handicap and turned it into an asset only to fall victim to his own excesses. His legacy, however, is secure among audiences who treasure his contributions to classic comedy.
Cinema Retro has received the following press release:
BURT LANCASTER, a four-week, 37-film festival
spotlighting one of the 20th century’s brightest stars, will run at Film Forum
from Friday, July 19 to Thursday, August 15 – kicking off
with a one-week run of Robert Siodmak’s The Killers, starring
Ava Gardner and Lancaster, playing in a new 4K restoration, July 19 – 25.
Burt Lancaster (1913-1994), a street kid from East Harlem, got a late start in
pictures in his mid-30s – after a brief stint in the circus, serving in World
War II, and appearing on Broadway (where he was discovered by agent and future
producing partner Harold Hecht) – but his star personality, among the most
powerful in film history, was there from the beginning: from the doom-laden
twisted hunk in films noir (The Killers, Brute Force, I Walk Alone, Sorry,
Wrong Number, Criss Cross, Desert Fury); to the grinning hot dog in spoof
adventure films (The Flame and the Arrow, Trapeze, The Crimson Pirate, Apache);
to the sleaziest of con men (The Rainmaker), Nazi collaborator (Judgement at
Nuremberg), and tabloid columnist (Sweet Smell of Success); to a stalwart
leader of men (Twilight’s Last Gleaming); to an idealistic fanatic (Elmer
Gantry); to a supremely dignified icon of another age.
Ranked among the top box office stars of the 1950s and 60s, Lancaster was also
a pioneering independent producer. Forming Hecht-Hill-Lancaster
Productions in 1948 gave him the ability to choose his own projects
(including Kiss the Blood Off My Hands, The Flame and the Arrow, The Crimson
Pirate, Apache, Trapeze, Sweet Smell of Success, Run Silent, Run Deep, The
Young Savages, Birdman of Alcatraz, and more). Nominated for four Academy
Awards, winning one for Elmer Gantry, Lancaster’s successful five-decade career
placed him at #19 on AFI’s list of the 50 Greatest Male Screen Legends.
“His vitality was more than cheerfulness or strength;
he seemed charged with power.â€
– David Thomson
BURT LANCASTER has been programmed by Bruce Goldstein,
Film Forum’s Director of Repertory Programming.
In contemporary cinema, it would appear that virtually every major action film is based on super hero from the comic book universe. Yet, decades ago, superhero flicks were considered to be a dicey bet by most major studios, despite the success of Christopher Reeve Superman films, which had been deemed as having run out of steam. All of that changed with the 1989 release of Tim Burton's dark, revisionist interpretation of Batman. Writing in The Washington Post, Michael Cavna explores how the success and influence of that film led to the glut of superhero blockbusters we are seeing today. Click here to read.
Film noir wasn’t just
relegated to American Hollywood films of the forties and fifties. It was
something of an international movement, albeit an unconscious one, for it
wasn’t until the late fifties that some critics in France looked back at the
past two decades of crime pictures and proclaimed, “Oui! Film noir!â€
Britain
was doing it, too. Carol Reed’s 1947 IRA-thriller-that-isn’t-an-IRA-thriller Odd Man Out is one of the best examples
of the style. Robert Krasker’s black and white cinematography pulls in all the
essential film noir elements—German
expressionism, high contrasts between dark and light, and tons of shadows. Other
noir trappings are present, such as stormy
weather, night scenes, exterior locations, bars, shabby tenements, a lot of smoking,
and a crime. And, for a movie to be “pure noir,â€
there must not be a happy ending. Odd Man
Out fulfills that last requirement with shocking bravura.
James
Mason stars as Johnny, the leader of “the organization†in an unnamed Northern
Ireland city; it isn’t difficult to connect the dots and assume the
organization is the IRA and the city is probably someplace like Belfast (where
much of the second unit photography was done on the sly; the rest of the film
was shot in studios and locations in England). Johnny escaped from prison a few
months back and has been in hiding, secluded in a house with his girlfriend
Kathleen (the beautiful Kathleen Ryan) for months. He has gathered a small gang
to rob a mill for money to support their cause. The problem is that Johnny has
gone a bit “soft,†and isn’t properly prepared for the job. Nevertheless, the
four men pull off the caper, but of course it goes wrong. Johnny is shot in the
shoulder, he unwittingly kills a man in self defense, and he is separated from
the other gang members. The rest of the film is a D.O.A.-style story of the next twenty-four hours or so as Johnny
eludes capture from the police on the streets, all the while losing blood and
his life. So we know he’s probably not going to make it and we wait for the
inevitable—but what happens until that fateful ending (which manages to
surprise us anyway with an unexpected twist in how it’s done) is incredibly
suspenseful.
Odd Man Out is one of the most
engaging and thrilling British films of the 20th Century. Period. It certainly
rivals Reed’s The Third Man, which is
also an excellent model of British noir.
Mason is terrific as he stumbles around the streets, delusional and suffering,
practically bouncing from one obstacle to another with no safe haven in sight.
Other familiar British and Irish faces crop up—Robert Newton, Cyril Cusack, Dan
O’Herlihy, F. J. McCormick—and Kubrick fans might recognize a younger Paul
Farrell (the tramp from A Clockwork
Orange) as a bartender named Sam.
Criterion’s high-definition digital restoration looks marvelous, naturally. Once again,
the company’s mastering for Blu-ray outdoes the competition. The image is sharp
and without blemishes for the most part, and appears as if the film was made
yesterday. Extras include a new interview with British cinema scholar John Hill
on the picture; “Postwar Poetry,†a new short documentary; a new interview with
music scholar Jeff Smith about composer William Alwyn and his gorgeous score; a
nearly-hour-long 1972 documentary featuring James Mason revisiting his hometown
in Ireland; and a radio adaptation of the film from 1952, starring Mason and
O’Herlihy. The essay in the booklet is by critic Sara Smith.
All
of these supplements are very good, but the reason to run out and buy this
Blu-ray release is the film itself. Odd
Man Out is a landmark crime picture with wonderfully eccentric Irish
characters, lush atmosphere, and film
noir traits galore. Highly recommended.
Jon Voight and Dustin Hoffman in "Midnight Cowboy".
Writing on the Thrillist web site, Jennifer M. Wood presents an excellent article outlining 50 major films that were initially rated X but which were not pornographic. Her analysis dates back to the early days of the American ratings system when "X" initially just meant adult fare that children could not be admitted to view. Acclaimed films such as "Midnight Cowboy" and "Last Tango in Paris" were released under the "X" rating but ultimately the porn industry made the "X" synonymous with hardcore sex films. Eventually, the studios adopted the "NC-17" rating in the hope that it would revive interest in mainstream, adult fare that had an edge to it, but ultimately the strategy largely failed. Some of the classic movies initially rated "X" or "NC-17" were ultimately re-rated to "R" including a 1994 re-release of "The Wild Bunch"!