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

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

By Lee Pfeiffer

In a lifetime of reviewing movies, there have been some titles I generally try to avoid. With a few exceptions, Biblical epics aren't my thing, nor is anything with "Adam Sandler" above the title. One retro-based film I've tried studiously to avoid is "Ilsa: She Wolf of the S.S." I've got a pretty liberal attitude when it comes to watching distasteful movies, but the idea of blending Nazi concentration camp horrors with eroticism was too much. Nevertheless, there is no denying that the 1975 film, shot for $150,000 in sets left over from "Hogan's Heroes" (I kid you not!), was a boxoffice smash on the grindhouse circuit back in the day. Recently, I received a review DVD of the film from a company I won't identify, not only because the transfer was lousy but primarily because it apparently isn't available any longer. (The movie is now in the public domain and there are apparently a wide range of releases of varying quality).  I decided to finally take the plunge and judge the film as objectively as I could.  I've heard that there are very good transfers of the film on the market. Unfortunately, this isn't one of them. The plot centers on a Teutonic goddess named Ilsa, who is the de facto commandant of a Nazi prison camp. Her primary obsession is conducting gruesome medical experiments on inmates in order to prove a bizarre theory that women can withstand more pain than men. (Exactly what scientific value of such research would be is never explained, but real life Nazi quacks such as Dr. Josef Mengele did indeed conduct hideous experiments on helpless people.) As played by Dyanne Thorne, an Amazonian, blonde ex-show girl, Ilsa is indeed an imposing presence. She has the run of the camp and is feared by inmates and guards alike. Ilsa takes special delight in mixing sexual perversions with her daily grind. She has a loyal staff of female soldiers who parade around topless and excel at whipping and torturing female prisoners. Men receive special treatment. If Ilsa finds a male inmate attractive, she treats him to a night of passionate S&M sex, ironically with her playing the submissive role. Yet, there is a bit of a downside. The day after making love to Ilsa, these men are routinely castrated so that they can never have sex with another woman.

Ilsa meets her match when she meets a hunky prisoner named Wolfe (Gregory Knoph), who is cunning enough to make his services indispensable to Ilsa, while secretly organizing inmates to attempt to take over the camp. In the interim, viewers are treated to all sorts of depravities. If these were limited to sex, it would be bad enough (historically, sexual manipulation was indeed an everyday part of life in a concentration camp with certain female inmates allowed special treatment if they served in bordellos.). However, director Don Edmonds indulges in stomach turning sequences of men and women being systematically flogged and butchered under the most heinous circumstances imaginable. In one particularly awful sequence, a beautiful young woman has a noose tied around her neck and she is placed atop a block of melting ice so that she is slowly strangled to death. The fact that she is dying while standing atop a dinner table where Nazi officers dine and laugh in amusement make it almost unbearable to watch- precisely because such "creative" tortures were implemented in the camps.The film culminates in a limply-staged battle between guards and inmates in which the bad guys get their comeuppance.

There are legions of fans of this movie who argue it represents genuine eroticism. There are also legions of people who think it's cool to wear T shirts with Charles Manson's image on them. I can't understand either point of view. Yes, sexual fantasies are just that-fantasies. If you dream of being flogged by an Amazon woman, good for you. However, blending sexual fantasies with real life horror of the Holocaust makes me wonder how anyone can find this film a turn-on. The fact that it was released during an era when there were still millions of survivors of concentration camps still alive makes the subject matter all the more atrocious. There certainly is a place for artistic expression of sexual content in films that push the envelope. (The Night Porter comes to mind, but at least it was a quality film with an intelligent viewpoint beyond shameless exploitation.)

The film was so successful that it spawned two sequels, though they dropped the Nazi angle. I guess that says all we need to know about what passes for entertainment in some quarters.

I suppose there is an audience for anything and I don't argue the producers had every right to release and profit from this claptrap. You just have to wonder how anyone can derive sexual pleasure from seeing screaming women being disemboweled and hapless men being castrated. Call me old-fashioned, but I would personally rather watch "Hogan's Heroes."

Click here to view trailer and judge for yourself (Warning! X-rated and not for the squeamish.)

Click here to order Prime Time DVD (illustrated above)  from Amazon, but please note: this is not the DVD we actually reviewed, though it is said to be of superior quality. 

 By Lee Pfeiffer 

The latest grindhouse vintage porn double feature from Vinegar Syndrome is one of their best releases yet. "Sadie" is an unlikely 1980 hardcore "adaptation" of Somerset Maugham's classic story "Rain", though we doubt ol' Somerset ever envisioned the types of goings-on that occur in this film, directed by Bob Chinn, a prolific name in the industry who was born in Hawaii (please refrain from making the old joke "on the island of Kumoniwannaleiya")  and went on to direct dozens of X rated feature length movies. Here the titular character is a blonde bombshell played by Chris Cassidy. Sadie is a prostitute living in Borneo and the action all takes place in a low-rent beachfront hotel here she plies her services and receives paternal loving care from the seedy owner of the resort. Sadie is in love with an American soldier on leave to Borneo but finds she can't leave the island because the local Raja insists that he "bought" her in Saigon and that she must become a member of his harem. Sadie is a moody young woman, prone to selfish and occasionally reckless behavior. Her stress level only increases when an Evangelical U.S. senator and his wife and teenage daughter check into the hotel. The senator has married his wife in order to make an "honest woman" of her because she had been unwed when she gave birth to her daughter. Since then the couple has led a chaste marriage, as the senator believes sex is the work of the devil. The daughter, who has just turned 18, has no such beliefs and her raging hormones can't stand the strain as she witnesses the unapologetic free love practiced by Sadie and her friends. Before long, she's joining in the action while Sadie tries to construct a plan to work with corrupt government officials to get out of the country with her lover. 

"Sadie" is largely confined to a few rooms in the hotel and there are no exterior shots. Yet the film is somewhat ambitious and rises above standard porn because director Chinn has a degree of skill in presenting a reasonably compelling story. His leading lady fits the bill in terms of the erotic sequences but is weak dramatically. Unusually for this type of film, Chinn gives plenty of screen time to what appear to be accomplished middle-aged character actors who don't get involved in the down-and-dirty stuff. The film is all the better for it. Chinn also knows how to skillfully lens the sex scenes but never overdoes them. There are twosomes, threesomes and orgy scenes but there is plenty of time devoted to at least attempting to tell an engaging story. 

Another Chinn film fills out the double feature, thus making this a genuine "Double Chinn" presentation. "The Seductress" is a 1981 film, that like "Sadie", is far more ambitious than standard grindhouse fare of the era. Porn superstar Lisa De Leeuw plays Cindy, a young wife married to Richard, a local commissioner on the Las Vegas fire commission board. He's a chauvinist boor who talks to her as though she is the hired help. She finds out about a "service" that blackmails spouses by having them seduced, then secretly photographed from behind a two-way mirror as they have their illicit liaisons in a hotel room. Cindy engages the service and sure enough, Richard goes for the bait and ends up in bed with Renee (Lee Carroll), who pretends she is also married and is nervous about having an affair. In reality, she is a heroin-addicted hooker. Cindy's plans go awry when Renee refuses to turn over the photos of her husband unless Cindy "fills in" for her at the next night's liaison. If she doesn't, Renee will blackmail her. Cindy reluctantly takes on the task and ends up in a foursome with a cynical hooker and two men, one of whom is also being set up for blackmail/divorce. The plot gets pretty confusing at times but Chinn elicits good performances by old pros De Leeuw and Carroll, though his luck runs out with much of the supporting cast, some of who read their lines as though they are in a school play. Nevertheless, the film boasts a good story line that involves organized crime and a conspiracy to manipulate who sits on the fire commission. The political intrigue aspect has a genuinely creative payoff in the last frames, as Chinn ties it in with real life news footage of the disaster 1981 Hilton Hotel fire in Vegas that was caused by arson. 

The print quality of these two features is above average and Vinegar Syndrome has even gone to the effort of tracking down the original trailers for each film. Although both "Sadie" and "The Seductress" are hardcore films, these represent an early attempt to appeal to female viewers who, at the time, might have wanted to experience some X-rated fare without being totally grossed out.  Both hold up well today and are probably more creative than the largely indistinguishable fare being made today. 

Click here for a preview of both films.

Hepburn arrives at the 1988 Oscar ceremonies.

Audrey Hepburn would have been 85 years old this month. As a tribute to her special sense of class and style, the Huffington Post provides a series of photos illustrating Hepburn in the 1970s and 1980s as evidence that her beauty and elegance only became more impressive as she aged. Click here to view 

Rod Barnett, writing on his blog The Bloody Pit of Rod, has an intriguing take about what went wrong with both attempts to make The Lone Ranger the subject of big screen feature films. The first debacle, The Legend of the Lone Ranger, was a costly flop back in 1981 but it looked like a smashing success compared to the 2013 Disney version, which is estimated to have lost $250 million despite the presence of Johnny Depp. Barnett's article, written contemporaneously with the release of the latter film last summer, examines why both films veered far off course. Click here to read 

By Don L. Stradley

The first image we see in Gore Vidal: The United States of Amnesia, a handsome new documentary by Nicholas D. Wrathall, is of Vidal at the Rock Creek Cemetery in Washington D.C., standing over what will soon be his own tomb. He’s heavier than we remember, leaning on a cane for balance. He recalls a few friends who are already buried nearby, mentions his “pathological hatred of death,” and ambles away. This is the titan at midnight, crumbling at the edges, still formidable.

The movie’s cryptic opening segues into a respectful, occasionally moving, look back at Vidal’s life. It’s more a tribute than a full-blown biography, for Wrathall presents Vidal as a kind of intellectual colossus, utterly devoid of faults, a near perfect thinker, and the last lion of America’s golden age of liberalism. The movie stops short of hagiography, but just barely. What keeps it interesting is Vidal, a born entertainer who, even in his final years, could still spin a tale, drop a name, or do an impression of JFK.

Vidal seems a natural subject for a documentary - there have been several already, including a 2004 episode of the PBS American Masters series - for his life was very much like a long, American novel of the 1920s. His mother was a ditzy alcoholic. His father was an aeronautics instructor at West Point, had an affair with Amelia Earhart, and wanted to be the Henry Ford of aviation. The job of raising Vidal was left to his blind grandfather, the fiery Senator T.P. Gore of Oklahoma. When Vidal reminisces about the senator, the respect and awe is palpable. T.P. passed on to Vidal not just his liberal politics, but also a love of literature, and a fearsome oratory skill.

After a stint in the U.S. Army during World War II, Vidal went on to become a scandalous novelist, a playwright, a screenwriter, a television dramatist during TV’s golden age; he was a self-described member of the ruling class who struggled to escape it; he never referred to himself as ‘gay,’ but wrote books and essays defending bisexual and homosexual lifestyles; he was deeply involved in politics, and later, was a TV gadfly, appearing on The Tonight Show a dozen times, as well as many other programs, even lending his voice to The Simpsons and Family Guy.

Wrathall taps most of those aspects of Vidal’s past (not, alas, the cartoon work), but focuses mainly on Vidal the political commentator, the weary traveler who sees America as a series of shams and failures, the gruff grumbler. Indeed, the movie shows Vidal holding court at various speaking engagements; all he has to do is call George Bush “a fool,” and the walls of the joint practically come down. If the movie has a glaring fault, it’s that we see Vidal go from being a young author of gay themed novels to a socio-politico bon vivant, with very little in between to illustrate his journey. Instead, Wrathall relies on nameless, faceless narrators to offer such bromides as “Gore was everywhere, like a shape shifter.”

The cornerstone of any documentary about Vidal will be his televised 1968 debates with William F. Buckley. Wrathall includes a hearty helping of them here, and they still bristle nearly 50 years after their first airing on ABC. Buckley is especially fascinating – he’s so effete he doesn’t even know how to show anger. He bites his lip and cranes his neck like a man having a fit. Vidal doesn’t come off well either. He and Buckley were both trying so hard to be witty, and so unable to conceal their hatred of each other, that whatever topic was on the table grew cold quickly.

Much of the footage comes from late in Vidal’s life, when he was bothered by physical problems and needed help getting around. Hence, we see Vidal being helped up stairs, helped across bridges, helped up hills, helped onto a stage at the 2005 Pen awards, and carted around in a wheelchair. These scenes are interwoven with a sort of “greatest hits” collection from Vidal’s past, where the great pundit railed at this and that, his words rolling over his enemies like a tank. The effect is entertaining enough, and if Wrathall intended to depict Vidal as a fallen hero, he sort of succeeds. Still, a more thorough and less deferential documentary might have considered some of Vidal’s resounding flops. Remember Caligula?

Vidal’s long life, which included friendships with Tennessee Williams, Paul Newman, and other bright lights of our popular culture, can’t be jammed into a 90 minute documentary. For instance, Truman Capote is barely mentioned, which is akin to leaving Joe Frazier out of a movie about Muhammad Ali. The saucier aspects of Vidal’s life, such as his affairs with women, are not mentioned here, either. His engagement to Newman’s future wife, Joanne Woodward, is ignored, although there are several odd photos of the Newmans with Vidal, including one of Vidal and Newman fondling a statue’s buttocks.

Wrathall doesn’t spend an inordinate amount of time on Vidal’s books, or the notion, held by many, that Vidal possessed a great facility with words but could not quite write a masterpiece. Instead, Wrathall gets cute and shoots close-ups of Vidal’s pithy quotes, including “Whenever a friend succeeds, a little something in me dies.” And, “Never offend an enemy in a small way.” Anyone who doesn't know better might think Vidal composed blurbs for fortune cookies.

Where Wrathall succeeds grandly is in showing Vidal’s soft side. It's touching to hear of Vidal's relationship with longtime companion Howard Auster, and Wrathall is smart to let the camera linger when Vidal turns melancholy. Watch how Vidal pauses when recalling a childhood friend who died in WW2, or the way his eyes mist over when he recalls “school boy’s stuff, at a boys’ school, long, long, long ago.” These moments, and the gorgeous scenery surrounding Vidal’s Italian home, make the documentary worth seeing. Wrathall’s movie is like one of Vidal’s novels in that it’s not great, but very good.

(The film has just opened theatrically in New York. Click here to view trailer.)

By Lee Pfeiffer

Vinegar Syndrome has released another grindhouse double feature of '70s hardcore porn flicks. "The Altar of Lust" is a boring, snoozefest masquerading as erotica when, in fact, it is about as stimulating as an Amway party. Erica Landers (billed in the film credits as "Erotica Lantern" (!), plays Viveca Hansen, a nubile Dutch teenager who is brutally violated by her barbaric stepfather in the only rape sequence ever filmed that is more boring than offensive. She makes her way to New York where she confides her life story to a sympathetic psychiatrist. For whatever reason, the dialogue comes from superimposed voices from both characters that give the impression that the film was badly dubbed. Erotica Lantern doesn't live up to her name, even in an era when everyday women could become major porn stars. She is far from exotic looking and is adorned with a dime store fright wig that gives each one of her scenes an unintentionally funny overtone. The entire "story line" involves her inability to have a stable relationship with men. After being abused by her stepfather, she enters affairs with other men who verbally abuse her (including porn super star Harry Reems, who uses the screen name "Stan Freemont".)  One night, she walks in on her boyfriend  Don as he's getting it on with another girl. The other woman ends up seducing young Viveca, much to the amusement of Don. However, when the two get carried away with sapphic lovemaking, he realizes there's no room for him in this party and he angrily departs the scene. Henceforth, Viveca becomes obsessed with women, leading her to see the therapist to find out what is wrong with her. The only intriguing angle of the flick is to evoke a bygone era in which gay people were seen to be suffering from a mental disorder. At the end of the flick, Viveca is put back on track when her own psychiatrist gets it on with her, a plot device you can see coming from minute one. The film is unexceptional on every level and will disappoint fans of the genre because the majority of sex scenes are softcore. The transfer, however, is top notch, given that source material for such releases comes from the "take what you can get" school.

The second feature on the DVD is "Angel On Fire", a 1974 flick that attempts to capitalize on "The Devil in Miss Jones". The film opens without credits but Darby Lloyd Rains is the female lead and stalwart male performers Marc Stevens and Jamie Gillis have major roles. The first scene finds Steven, a young hunk,  in bed having torrid sex with his adoring girlfriend. However, when she informs him she is pregnant with his child, he verbally abuses her and abandons her without a second thought. He is a lifelong chauvinist who treats women as sex objects and nothing more. He is ultimately struck by a van and killed by driver (Stevens), who has been distracted by the fact that his girlfriend had been performing a sex act on him while they were cruising the streets of Manhattan. Steven finds himself in Heaven and in the presence of a comely female angel who tells him his fate: he is to be sent back to earth, this time as a female. Steven is "reborn" as a good look young woman named Stephanie (Darby Lloyd Rains) who is as sex crazed as his male alter-ego was. Before long, she enters a relationship with an arrogant man (Jamie Gillis), who treats her every bit as callously as he treated his own girlfriend. Speaking of whom, that woman reappears at his apartment and doesn't seem to be overly-startled by the revelation that her former lover has been reincarnated as a woman. In fact, the two get down to serious canoodling right away for the film's primary prerequisite lesbian sequence. As her dependence on her new boyfriend grows, Stephanie finds herself serving as a virtual sex slave to her deplorable lover- and her devotion only increases the more he abuses her. Finally, she discovers she is pregnant- and he abandons her as callously as he once abandoned his own lover. Stephanie is so heartbroken the she begs to die and - Presto! She is back in Heaven as Steven. He tells his angel guardian that he has learned an important life lesson about respecting women. For this, he is informed that in Heaven, sex is frequent and guilt free. She rewards him for recognizing his flaws and correcting them and the two start getting it on. ("If this cloud is a rockin', don't come a knockin'",  you might say.) As The Temptations pointed out, everyone's doing fine on Cloud Nine. Angel on Fire is crudely made and suffers from an insufferable performance by Rains. Beyond that, however, it is far superior to "The Altar of Lust" and contains some genuinely erotic sequences. The flick also looks like it went through a meat grinder, with numerous blotches and edits apparent. As with previous Vinegar Syndrome releases, however, this only adds to its appeal.

Click here to watch a preview clips from the double feature.

CLICK HERE TO ORDER DISCOUNTED FROM AMAZON

By Lee Pfeiffer

When it comes to documentaries about the American Civil War, it's pretty much acknowledged that the gold standard was set with Ken Burns' acclaimed 1990 PBS series. However, it would be a mistake to dismiss other filmmaker's take on the conflict. One of the most impressive documentaries we've seen is producer, director and writer Chris Wheeler's "Civil War: The Untold Story", a  five-episode series presented on two DVDs through Athena Home Video. The series is impressive on every level and rivals Burns' film in terms of educating viewers and providing emotional impact. Whereas Burns relied entirely on photographs of the period and location photography, Wheeler delves into the risky realm of using re-enactments of famous battles. If such sequences are not up to par, the effect can look cheesy and distracting. However, in "Civil War: The Untold Story", Wheeler was obviously working with a very substantial production budget. The battle sequences are meticulously staged and take on the feel of an epic, often evoking the grandeur of the big screen feature film "Gettysburg". The title is a bit misleading. There really isn't much here that has been "untold" but there is plenty that has not been covered in the detail Wheeler goes into. The series begins with a look at the plight of black slaves in the old South and poignantly shows the horror of their living conditions. The show then delves into the complex socioeconomic and political  factors that brought about secession and the start of the war in 1861. As with most such series, this one is peppered with plenty of scholarly talking heads, each of whom adds immeasurably to one's understanding of the conflict. I did learn a great deal from the show, including how some famous generals were known to have made enormous military blunders such as ordering frontal assaults on embedded enemy positions, thus resulting in mass casualties. Wheeler's literate script also details how fragile American democracy was by 1864. With President Lincoln's popularity at its lowest point, war-weary northerners were more than willing to make peace with the south. In fact, Lincoln suffered the humiliation of having one of his former top generals, McClelland, nominated to be his Democratic opponent in the election. Violent and deadly riots had already torn apart New York City in protest of the draft. Lincoln had to pull off a major victory or America, as we know it, would have been confined to the dustbin of history. In fact, democracy itself as a form of government would have been doomed. Although we know the outcome of all this, Wheeler skillfully builds these crisis to the point of considerable suspense. He also manages to tell the story of the war through focusing on individual soldiers from both sides as well as freed slaves who found emancipation to be a crisis in and of itself. Where did these poor souls go? With no education, money or support structure, many ex-slaves traded one hellish life for another. Wheeler also points out the the legacy of the Civil War still permeates North/South relationships today. Indeed, even some elected officials call the conflict "The War of Northern Aggression".

The series, wonderfully narrated by Elizabeth McGovern, is completely addictive and you'll find yourself on a viewing binge, looking forward to each successive episode. The only downside is that one would have hoped that Athena had included an interview with Chris Wheeler about the making of this remarkable show. The only extras are some silent WWI-era newsreels that show fascinating footage of Civil War veterans from both sides attending "Peace Jubilees". It's truly surprising how many thousands of these veterans were still alive and well in the era of the automobile. The set also includes an instructional booklet of historical biographies and facts.

"Superb" is not a word one throws around casually but "Civil War: The Untold Story" is a superb achievement.

Click here to order from Amazon

By Don Stradley

It’s hard to say why the brain trust at Troma decided to release Dangerous Obsession on DVD this year. Perhaps someone thought the Esquire network’s recent re-airing of the old HBO Dream On series would create interest in Brian Benben, who stars in this film (originally called Mortal Sins) as Nathan Weinschenk, a brash private investigator from New York who gets involved in a complex murder case involving some transplanted Southern religious zealots. But even if there is a sudden renewed interest in the Benben catalog, it’s difficult to imagine that even the most devoted Benben completists would derive any pleasure from this cheaply made 1989 flick with its clichés and hack dialogue. I can’t even label this one as decent 1980’s kitsch.

When Reverend Park Sung (James Saito) is murdered in his Manhattan apartment, Weinschenk is hired by rival evangelist Malcolm Rollins’ (James Harper) who wants to protect his own Manhattan church (‘The Divine Church of the People’). Weinschenk also ends up protecting Rollins’ lovely daughter (Debrah Farentino), which adds a little steam to the proceedings. The daughter, you see, has a complicated sex life, as most women in movies did back in the late 1980s, whether or not they knew Mickey Rourke or Michael Douglas.

Weinschenk mines the humor of being a Jew in a nest of bible-thumping Southern vipers. True, the idea of Southern-fried televangelists setting up shop in Manhattan may have sounded edgy at the time (this was the 1980s, remember, when Jimmy Swaggart and Jim Bakker were involved in serious scandals, and TV preachers had become popular punching bags), but the film is played out in such broad strokes that any good ideas are quickly crushed by cartoonish acting. Weinschenk, for instance, has the stereotypical Jewish parents who are oblivious to anything outside their little household. He also shares his office with a no-account male relative (I couldn’t tell if they were brothers or cousins) and there’s even a running gag where the Southern folks can’t pronounce his name.

If the Jewish stereotypes aren’t enough, we also get a lot of TV private eye clichés. As if he’s auditioning for a role in a network cop show, Weinschenk drives a classic 1950s car, and listens to classic R&B (I’ll give some points to this movie for including a cut of Jackie Wilson’s ‘No Pity In the Naked City’). He also thinks he’s a real wiseass, although his level of wit is restricted to lines like, “Nice work if you can get it.” Benben curses a lot, too, and while he can drop the F-bombs with convincing venom, he’s still stuck with playing a wooden character. The Southern stereotypes are pretty thick, too. The Southerners are all portrayed as bloated, effete, Jerry Falwell types, speaking in exaggerated, syrupy drawls; if you told me they were all stoned on Quaaludes during filming, I’d believe you. The perfectly named Brick Hartney has some success as the slimy Billy Beau Backus, playing his part like a community theater star vamping for his friends in the front row. Proving that some people know how to get out while they’re on top, Hartney never acted in films again.

There are plenty of extras here, but none are about Dangerous Obsession. The extras are solely Troma related, including vintage trailers for The Toxic Avenger, Return to Nuke ‘Em High: Vol. 1, Badmouth, Poultrygeist, and Cars3, plus a snippet of a Troma documentary called How To Sell Your Own Damn Movie, featuring filmmaker James Gunn discussing the dubious wonders of social media.

For those who enjoy spotting character actors early in their careers, you’ll find a surprising number of them in Dangerous Obsession. Anthony LaPaglia has a small role, as does Maggie Wheeler, who went on to recurring roles on Friends, Ellen, and Everybody Loves Raymond. Anyone who has watched TV during the past 25 years will also recognize Peter Onorati, who has made a career out of playing guys named Angelo or Sal. Director Yuri Sivo and screenwriter Allen Blumberg have worked infrequently since 1989 – Blumberg has directed a couple of small projects, with Sivo’s highpoint being a couple episodes of the Swamp Thing TV series.

On the plus side, Dangerous Obsession is visually striking, with a sophisticated use of shadows and silhouettes. That’s no surprise since it was shot by underrated veteran Bobby Bukowski, whose recent work includes two excellent titles, The Messenger (2009) and, what is perhaps my favorite movie of the past few years, The Iceman (2012). Even while strapped to a no-budget howler like Dangerous Obsession, Bukowski shows the immense talent that would make him one of the most reliable and sought after cinematographers of the past two decades. (Hell, he even shot Shakes the Clown!) In fact, I’d only recommend this DVD to those who want to marvel at how a ham-handed script made on an Ed Wood budget can feature so many lollipops for the eye. Even the final shot is superb, with Weinschenk and his girlfriend arguing on a fire escape, the camera pulling back and wheeling around to reveal a lush New York skyline at what must have been the so-called magic hour. The idea that the evil Southerners are gone and the New Yorkers can get back to arguing among themselves is trite, but Bukowski shoots it like he’s practicing for his future.

CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON 

By Martin Sheffield

The Empty Canvas (original Italian title La Noia), is a 1963 Italian drama waiting to be rediscovered as a classic by retro film lovers in America. Besides being a solid outing for Horst Buchholz and part of Bette Davis’ 1960’s resurgence, this film is a reminder of why French-born Catherine Spaak was the “IT” European teenager of the period. She was described by critic Rex Reed as "[h]alf kittycat go-go girl, half petulant defiance, … like a sexy lollipop [with] soft hair the color of maple syrup.” In The Empty Canvas, the 18-year-old actress gave the best performance of her career in a role intended to make her an international star. That performance earned a special Golden Plate award at the David di Donatello awards (presented by The Academy of Italian Cinema) in 1964.

Based on a novel by Alberto Moravia, the film follows Dino (Buccholz), the twenty-something artist son of a rich, American ex-patriot from New Orleans (Davis).  Dino has lost his way in life and no longer feels inspired to paint, or inspired for life in general, so it seems.  He resents his mother and her money, spending as little time with her as possible.

Dino's life changes, however, when he meets Cecilia (Spaak), an amoral young woman.  Cecilia has been carrying on a torrid affair with a much-older married painter, who is Dino's neighbor.  Upon the painter's death, Dino and Cecilia slide into a torrid affair of their own.  As their affair progresses, Dino, suddenly filled with feelings and purpose in his life, becomes obsessed with obtaining commitment from Cecilia.  In the film's penultimate scene, Dino covers Cecilia's nude body in lira notes in an effort to win her commitment.  Cecilia, on the other hand, is just out to have fun and do whatever makes her feel good.  Dino is in danger of letting his obsession with Cecilia destroy his life, just as the old painter’s life was destroyed by his obsession with Cecilia.

Of the "money" scene, director Damiano Damiani was quoted in The Saturday Evening Post as saying that "It was the most important scene of her career in her first English-language picture, one that would either make or break her as an international star.  And she was cold as ice." While she may have been cold as ice in controlling her nerves, as Cecilia, Catherine exudes a sensuous quality that leaves no doubt about how a man like Dino could become obsessed with her charms. In one scene set at an outdoor cafe overlooking the city, as Rita Pavone sings "Now That You've Gone," Cecilia dances seductively while Dino watches attentively from a swing.  Without a word being said, you can see Dino's resistance falling and his obsession budding.  That is one of my all-time favorite scenes from any film.

Shot in gorgeous, mood-setting black-and-white around Rome in the summer of 1963, the film's set was a linguistic adventure.  Director Damiani spoke English to Bette Davis, German to Buchholz, French to Spaak, and Italian to others.  The actors spoke their lines in English for later dubbing. It had to have been interesting to watch Bette Davis try to reign supreme over such an eclectic mix of talent. In Rex Reed's N.Y. Times profile of Catherine in 1966, he quoted her as saying:  "I acted with Bette Davis in 'The Empty Canvas.'  Everyone in Rome was terrified of her.  I said only one thing to her: 'Hello'."

On a curious side note, Bette Davis biographer Charlotte Chandler recounted in her book an odd incident concerning Bette's arrival in Rome for filming.  She was greeted at the airport by Buchholz, who wanted to get things started off on a good note with the notoriously persnickety Davis.  Buchholz leaned forward to kiss Bette on the cheek, as custom would dictate, whereupon Bette proceeded to put her tongue in Buchholz's mouth in a more-than-friendly kiss!  Buchholz never knew whether she was just trying to shock him, or whether she had other intentions. 

It is also interesting to note that Sophia Loren’s 18th century castle, renovated at a cost of nearly $2,000,000, was loaned by her to represent Bette Davis' villa in the film. Furthermore, the filming of the garden party, which provides the setting for the "money" scene, included the participation of more than 150 leaders of Rome's cultural set, who were there to honor Bette Davis' first film in Rome.

The Empty Canvas was a hit in Italy before being distributed in the U.S. in March 1964 by Joseph Levine’s Embassy Pictures. Levine was quoted by The Saturday Evening Post as saying that “[Catherine Spaak] will be the biggest new star of the 1960's.  This girl will be the Bardot of her generation.  Ten years from now there will be girls billing themselves as the new Catherine Spaak.” In Bardot tradition, I suppose, some of the advertising showed Cecilia draped only in a towel and was considered too risqué in some circles. As a result, some of the advertising was censored. Levine even took to Variety to express anger about the ad censoring by the L.A. Times and the L.A. Examiner. Censoring can still be seen on many of the surviving lobby cards for the film. My how times have changed!

The Empty Canvas generally received mixed-to-negative reviews at the time from American critics, but it did respectable business and garnered considerable attention for Catherine in the U.S. She was featured on the cover and in a story in the July 1964 issue of Cosmopolitan, and she was also the subject of a feature story in the May 2, 1964 issue of the Saturday Evening Post.

Catherine’s story was a dream come true for the press, because she was the daughter of well-known screenwriter Charles Spaak, was the niece of famed Belgian politician Paul-Henri Spaak, and had married actor Fabrizio Capucci (of the Capucci fashion-design family) in February of 1963, while seven months pregnant with their first child. Amazingly, after giving birth to daughter Sabrina in April of 1963, Catherine shot a film called The Little Nuns before commencing work on The Empty Canvas in July. By the time the film reached U.S. shores, Catherine and Capucci had already split, including a well-publicized incident at the Italian border, where authorities stopped Catherine as she was trying to leave the country with her infant daughter. I am sure that the tabloids of the day were all over this story.

The Empty Canvas has never been released on DVD in North America, but it was released by Embassy Home Entertainment in an English language version on VHS in 1987.    With The Criterion Collection’s impressive recent release of the 1962 Italian classic Il sorpasso (aka The Easy Life), in which Catherine has a prominent supporting role, the time is ripe for rediscovery in America of her classic work in The Empty Canvas as well. Furthermore, there should be no Bette Davis film from the 1960’s that is unavailable on DVD in the U.S.

We want our DVD!

By Fred Blosser 

On a windy night, a black-clad stranger rides into Daugherty City, Texas. He flips a coin to a scruffy drunk who is strapped for the price of a drink. He exposes a crooked dice game in the local saloon, where most of the townsfolk seem to be congregated. Then he departs. In the meantime, down the street, a gang of acrobatic robbers breaks into the bank and heists a safe containing $100,000 in Army payroll money. The getaway crew escapes town before a wounded trooper can raise the alarm, but out on the trail they run into the stranger, Sabata, who picks them off with a tricked-out rifle and recovers the stolen money.

Thus, in under 15 minutes of running time, Gianfranco Parolini neatly sets up the events that will drive the remaining 90 minutes of his 1969 Spaghetti Western, "Ehi amico... c'è Sabata, hai chiuso!" -- better known simply as “Sabata,” as United Artists retitled the English-dubbed version that debuted in the U.S. in 1970. The original Italian title translates to something like, “Hey, Pal, Sabata’s Here, You Lose” . . . or maybe closer to the film’s rambunctious spirit, “. . . You’re Screwed.”

Bracketing the opening credits, Parolini economically introduces most of the movie’s main characters, establishes their personalities, and through their interactions with Sabata and each other, defines the interpersonal relationships that will drive the plot.

Sabata (Lee Van Cleef), the sharp-eyed “man who knows,” as the drunk Carrincha (Pedro Sanchez) calls him, deduces that the men behind the attempted robbery are the local businessman Stengel, his partner Ferguson, and their crony Judge O’Hara (Gianni Rizzo). He approaches them and demands $10,000 in hush money. Refusing, Stengel dispatches one assassin after another to kill him. Stengel’s henchman Slim, a hulking gunman named Sharky, two hit men dressed like the Earp brothers, and a nervous killer disguised as a clergyman all try and fail. With each attempt, Sabata raises his price higher and higher.

An old acquaintance, barroom minstrel Banjo (William Berger), one of the supporting characters deftly sketched in the opening saloon scene, ambles in and out from the periphery, toting his own tricked-out weapon, a carbine hidden under his musical instrument. Sometimes he sides with Sabata for money, sometimes he works for Stengel; in any event, not to be trusted by either. He and a greedy saloon girl, Jane, have a sort of romance characterized by mutual boredom and availability. Carrincha and a mute Indian acrobat, Alley Cat (Nick Jordan), help Sabata.

Arguably, “Sabata” represented the high tide of Spaghetti Western popularity in the States in 1970, benefiting from the box-office success of Sergio Leone’s groundbreaking films and preceding the decline of the genre as it sputtered toward a slow box-office death in the mid-‘70s. Where Leone’s movies were generally panned by mainstream U.S. media on their initial release, but nevertheless attracted a small early following of more progressive critics, “Sabata” ironically met the opposite reception.

Major outlets like The New York Times gave it good notices, but the pioneering book-length studies of the genre by Christopher Frayling and Laurence Staig & Tony Williams were lukewarm. Staig and Williams dismissed it as “a mixture of gimmickry and borrowed themes.” Citing Banjo’s hidden carbine, Frayling said that the movie was one of the “derivatives” inspired by Leone’s scenes in which “guns are fired from unexpected places.”

Other commentators over the years have noted additional Leone influences. Before you see Sabata’s face in the opening scenes, Parolini gives us a shot down the main street of Daugherty City, framed between Sabata’s boots in close-up -- a favorite Leone visual angle. Paralleling the three lead characters of “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly,” Parolini (who also co-scripted with Renato Izzo) builds the action around an unflappable protagonist, an icy bad guy, and a talkative, slippery secondary lead. Sabata’s black suit, black military coat, and fanciful weapons recall Colonel Mortimer’s from Van Cleef’s break-out Spaghetti role in “For a Few Dollars More.”

The argument that Leone cast a long shadow over Parolini’s movie is valid as far as it goes, but then Leone cast a long shadow over all the Italian Westerns that followed after his enormously successful pictures with Clint Eastwood. If we acknowledge that “Sabata” often follows the visual and dramatic conventions of Leone’s movies, it’s only fair to Parolini to note that he also departed from those conventions in ways that other Spaghetti directors such as Sergio Corbucci, Sergio Sollima, and Luigi Vanzi generally didn’t.

For example, like John Ford, Leone held a sentimental reverence for the sanctity of the traditional family; the families in his movies symbolize social stability. There are no traditional parents and children in Parolini’s universe, even if a kid’s chorus heard in the movie’s bouncy title tune suggests there will be. The only offspring and parent in “Sabata” are Sharky -- a burly, slovenly adult -- and his gray-haired old virago of a mother, who berates him verbally and physically for not settling a score with their neighbors the Mallorys. “They stole your woman, didn’t they?” she shrieks. No, Sharky retorts, “you sold her to the Mallorys.”

Carrincha, who looks a bit like Sharky in girth and disheveled appearance, laments his life of thirst and poverty: “I curse the mother who bore me, and my brother, and my whole family.” Almost everything Carrincha says is prone to exaggeration, so it’s difficult to know whether this sentiment is real or not. Regardless, it mirrors and reinforces the satiric relationship between Sharky and his mother, poles away from the traditional relationships portrayed by Leone and Ford.

Playing with the “trio” aspect of “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly,” Parolini assigns the trickster role of “the Ugly” not to the boisterous Mexican (in name, at least) Carrancha, as Eli Wallach’s Tuco was “the Ugly” in Leone’s movie, but to the Anglo drifter, Banjo. This way, Parolini finds not only differences but also similarities between the two characters, including allusions to a shared history during and after the Civil War and maybe a shared past outside the law. This gives their relationship an extra dimension not present in the relationship between the Good and the Ugly in the Leone movie.

Critics and fans who appreciate “Sabata” on its own terms usually employ terms like “hectic and chaotic,” and “fun” that’s “not to be taken too seriously.” The movie hardly lets up for a moment (none of Leone’s long, measured takes), but a term like “chaotic” can be misleading if you think it means slipshod. In fact, even though Parolini doesn’t build the movie around a mystery as Leone does in “For a Few Dollars More” (what do those seemingly shared flashback memories by Colonel Mortimer and Indio mean?) or around a character arc as Sollima does in “The Big Gundown” and Corbucci in “The Mercenary,” “Sabata” has its own ingenious design. Beyond the action, stunts, and cynical humor, “Sabata” bears repeated viewing to appreciate the two techniques that Parolini uses to bring unity to the film.

One technique is repetition. Little details that appear in one scene in the visuals or in the dialogue will unexpectedly and sometimes subtly reappear later in a different context. Slim’s loaded dice in the opening saloon scene always come up 7. There are seven men in the getaway crew from the bank robbery whom Sabata ambushes. When Sabata checks into a hotel in Daugherty City, Banjo’s squeeze Jane gives him Room 7 -- “next to mine,” she says suggestively. (Sabata isn’t interested. As Jules Feiffer once observed of Superman, he is so self-sufficient and self-confident that he doesn’t need to pursue every woman he encounters, or even to respond to every pass that comes his way.)

Parolini’s other technique is music. Like Ennio Morricone’s compositions for Leone, Marcello Giombini’s score is integrated into “Sabata” as an essential part of Parolini’s fabric. Like Morricone, Giombini tailors certain musical themes and cues to specific characters in the story. As John Mansell observes in his liner notes for a 2001 CD soundtrack edition, Sabata’s theme incorporates “a rather buoyant sounding guitar piece … interspersed with a solo muted trumpet, occasional harpsichord flourishes plus the added support of choir, which is carried along on a backing of slightly upbeat percussion.” Banjo’s theme is a cocky melody plucked on his namesake instrument, sometimes augmented by jingling bells like those sewn on his trousers.

But Mansell’s description of Sabata’s theme, while insightful, fails to note that the theme also incorporates a glissando passage like the swirling of the wind. Sabata is associated with the wind throughout the movie. In the first scene, tumbleweeds blow down the street and lamplight flutters as Sabata rides into Daugherty City. In the closing scene, Parolini and Sabata use the wind to the same ironic effect that John Huston used it at the end of “Treasure of Sierra Madre” and Stanley Kubrick in the finale of “The Killing.” Although Judge O’Hara wonders if Sabata is a government agent, and Stengel snaps back that “he’s nothing -- just a drifter who’s after our money,” the man in black perhaps suggests his true elemental nature when he advises Stengel in one exchange: “Don’t shoot at the wind.”

Parolini and Giombini also take their partnership one step further than Leone and Morricone did in their collaborations. In Morricone’s scores, Leone’s primary characters have (in the words of Staig and Williams) their own “individual musical signatures” -- the template followed by Parolini with Sabata’s and Banjo’s themes. The difference is that, in Morricone’s scores, in any one scene where the character either enters or dominates the action, his theme predominates. Parolini combines his individual themes for Sabata and Banjo as point and counterpoint in the same scene to underscore the two gunmen’s shared history and one-up rivalry.

Banjo’s theme sounds a little like the old military marching tune, “The British Grenadier,” a reminder of Banjo’s allusion to his and Sabata’s Civil War past on different sides of the conflict: “You in the North and me in the South.” In their first meeting after Sabata’s arrival in town, Banjo plays a mocking version of the tune, in increasingly frantic tempo, as if trying to get under the other man’s skin. Sabata stops the performance by shooting one of the pegs off the banjo. “You were out of tempo,” he says dryly.

Near the end of the film, as Banjo leaves Daugherty City in apparent triumph after a pivotal final encounter with Sabata, a merry version of his banjo theme begins to play, bolstered by a fife and drum that underlines the similarity to military marching music. The jingle of bells joins in with a close-up of the bells on Banjo’s trousers. The viewer senses that this is the victorious music that Banjo probably hears in his own imagination. However, Sabata’s wind-theme presently swirls in. As if in competition, the strum of the banjo gains tempo, becoming increasingly insistent. Remembering the association of the fast-tempo strumming with the much earlier scene in which Banjo was humiliated, you may anticipate that Banjo’s present victory will be short-lived, too.

There isn’t an official 45th anniversary edition of “Sabata,” but the Swiss label Explosive Media recently released a new Blu-Ray combo pack that also includes a DVD print, a supplemental disc of interviews and features, and a nice souvenir booklet in German, copiously illustrated with stills and pictures of various international posters.

“Sabata” and the two Parolini films that immediately followed it are popularly known as “The Sabata Trilogy,” although only one is a true sequel. “Indio Black, sai che ti dico: Sei un gran figlio di . . .,” released in Italy in 1970, was imported to the U.S. the following year as “Adios, Sabata.” Yul Brynner played the hero who wears black, this time a black fringed shirt and bell-bottom trousers instead of Lee Van Cleef’s more formal outfit. In the Italian version, he’s Indio Black; in the dubbed U.S. print, Sabata.

Both movies are strongly linked in casting and style. Three of the major supporting roles in the two movies are occupied by the same actors (Jordan, Rizzo, Sanchez) and fulfill similar functions in character and plot. Dean Reed, who looks like the young Roger Moore, plays an opportunist named Ballantine who serves as this film’s surrogate for Banjo. There are several big-action set pieces, mostly involving Sabata’s mission in Mexico to relieve a tyrannical officer, Colonel Skimmel, of a hoard of gold during the revolution against Maximilian.

“Adios, Sabata” is an entertaining Spaghetti with a bigger cast of extras and more explosions than its predecessors. One set piece, in which Sabata sends the no-good Murdock Brothers to their “just reward” in a showdown at the Bounty Hunters’ Agency, is particularly well dialogued and choreographed.

But “Sabata” is the better movie, partly because Van Cleef and Berger had stronger chemistry than Brynner and Reed, and partly because Brynner’s character is a more traditional soldier of fortune and do-gooder (he’s friends with benevolent old priests and small children) than Van Cleef’s enigmatic loner. Although Bruno Nicolai’s score for “Alias Sabata” is quite good on its own terms, the title track emulating the full-on symphonic, choral sound of Morricone’s Spaghetti music, it isn’t as ingeniously integrated into the movie as Giombini’s composition was.

Parolini’s authentic sequel to “Sabata,” released in Italy in 1971 as "È tornato Sabata... hai chiuso un'altra volta," reached the States in 1972 as “Return of Sabata.” Lee Van Cleef returns as the lead character, and Giombini returns as the soundtrack composer, but unfortunately this movie doesn’t measure up to its predecessors.

As in “Sabata,”Van Cleef’s character rides into a town where a cabal of seemingly respectable citizens is engaged in nefarious activity. This time, the heavies are the outwardly pious McIntocks who trumpet civic expansion in Hobsonville by raising money for new buildings and businesses. They do so by imposing exorbitant taxes on the town’s goods and services.

In truth, patriarch Joe McIntock is conniving with his brother-in-law, banker Jeremy Sweeney, to smuggle the money out of town for his own enrichment. Sabata, who arrives in Hobsonville as a sharpshooter in a traveling circus sideshow, following a hunch about something being rotten somewhere, uncovers the fraud. As in “Sabata,” he demands blackmail from the bad guys in return for keeping their secret. The McIntocks, reluctant to pay, send a series of would-be assassins after him.

Again, Parolini employs his stock troupe of Jordan, Rizzo, and Sanchez in supporting roles, and inserts a slippery intermediary character, Clyde (Reiner Schone). Clyde, like Banjo, shares a Civil War past with Sabata. Giombini’s music isn’t as ingenious as his score for the first movie, and the circus aspect of the story never quite jells with the plot about the McIntocks’ scam; as a whole, the movie lacks the little visual and aural details that wove “Sabata” together.

Another problem: Sabata loses much of the steely, enigmatic quality that defined his personality in the first movie. In “Return of Sabata,” an old girlfriend, a hooker named Maggie, drifts into town, and Sabata shacks up with her. Maggie is never quite integrated into the story either. Sabata as a mysterious loner in the original film was intriguing. As a more conventional character with a sexy main squeeze, like a hero out of a paperback adult western, he isn’t. Still, “Return of Sabata” hardly merits a place among the “50 Worst Movies of All Time,” as the Medved brothers asserted in their 1978 book. Maybe Parolini has the last laugh: the Sabata movies live on while the Medved book is long forgotten.

CLICK HERE TO ORDER "THE SABATA TRILOGY" FROM AMAZON USA

(For information about Explosive Media's Blu-ray European special editions, click here. For more information, see the story in Cinema Retro issue #29. Click below to purchase). 

 Cinema Retro issue #29:

Gordon Willis, one of the most acclaimed cinematographers of all time, has passed away at age 82. Praised by critics and prominent filmmakers alike, Willis helped transform the way modern movies were shot and had a unique style that defined his work. His most prominent films include The Godfather triology and numerous movies with Woody Allen including the 1979 classic Manhattan, which Willis shot in black and white. It became what many consider to be his signature achievement in motion pictures. Willis never won a competitive Oscar but was honored with an Academy Award on the basis of his lifetime achievements. For more click here 

Some of the international movie posters presented in Cinema Retro issue #28, which features in-depth coverage of the making of Zulu.

By Brian Hannan

The 50^th anniversary showing of Zulu in Britain next month is unlikely to be repeated in the U.S. where the film flopped. But even the poorest box-office performer has an afterlife. So in 1965 Zulu was pushed out again anywhere that would have it. That meant it supported some odd, not to say ugly, bedfellows – exploitationer Taboos of the World in Kansas City, The Three Stooges in The Outlaws Is Coming in Phoenix, B western Stage To Thunder Rock in Long Beach, How to Stuff a Wild Bikini in Des Moines and Rhino in Abilene. They liked it in Long Beach where it supported both Circus World and That Man from Rio. It was the second feature to None But the Brave in Provo, Utah, and to two more successful Joe E. Levine movies, Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow in Ironwood, Michigan, and Marriage, Italian Style in Corpus Christi, Texas. Triple bills being a staple of drive-ins, it was seen with Viva Las Vegas and Beach Party in Tucson.

But it was not just support meat. Almost a year after its release, it topped the bill in Helena, Montana, with Robert Mitchum in Man in the Middle as support. In Chester it was the main attraction with Homicidal in support. In Weimar, Texas, it was supported by Tarzan the Magnificent and in Bridgeport by First Men on the Moon. At the Cecil theatre in Mason City, Iowa, it played on its own, as it did in Colorado Springs where it was advertised as “in the great tradition of Beau Geste” (supply your own exclamation marks.)

But it was not done yet. Exhibitors in San Mateo had a soft spot for Zulu in 1966. It played there seven times, as support to The Great Race, Marlon Brando western Appaloosa, Fantastic Voyage (in two theaters), What’s Up Tiger Lily?, The Leather Boys and Lawrence of Arabia. Abilene brought it back twice, for a re-match with Rhino and then in a double bill with Kimberley Jim starring singer Jim Reeves when it was promoted as “a true story of the Zulu tribe.” Fremont cinemas also ran in twice – with Return of the Seven and Fantastic Voyage. In Troy and Bennington it rode shotgun with Elvis in Harum Scarum. In Charleston it supported Arabesque, in Winona The Second Best Secret Agent and in Long Beach What Did You Do in the War, Daddy?

The highlight of 1967 had to be a double bill with The Daleks (Dr Who and the Daleks) in Delaware, or perhaps the teaming with Batman in Cumberland, Maryland, or El Cid in Ottawa. Zulu returned twice to Fremont to support Africa Addio and John Sturges’ Hour of the Gun. In Modesto it played with Where The Spies Are. In Long Beach it was put on at a pop concert where the headline act was Organized Confusion (anybody remember them?). These three years of repeated showings hardly counted as a proper reissue, but it did cast an interesting light on what may – or may not – have turned into something of a cult film. In Britain, where it was a smash hit, it was reissued on the ABC circuit in 1967 and 1972/

Brian Hannan is the author of the forthcoming The Reissue Bible.

CLICK BELOW TO ORDER CINEMA RETRO ISSUE #28

Brian Williams and Ron Howard. (Event photos copyright Giacomo Selloni. All rights reserved.)

Earlier this month, Cinema Retro was invited to cover Tribeca Talks, a new live interview series that took place as part of the Tribeca Film Festival in New York City. We sent our "Man About Manhattan", Giacomo Selloni to cover the initial event at which Ron Howard was interviewed by  NBC newsman Brian Williams. Here is his report:

By Giacomo Selloni

Ron Howard is an articulate film director. So it should come as no surprise that he is also an articulate speaker. He also has a way with anecdotes, as one might expect, given the length and diversity of his career.

"I think it's wrong to think of what I'm in as the movie business," Howard says. "It's the moving image business. I think it's necessary to work in all different mediums." He also says it's hard  to call it the film business as the industry moves further towards digital movie making. Part of his process is deciding not only how to tell a story but what medium to use, film, television even the internet. "Some stories might work better on the internet, with little three-minute segments. The audience is always going to tell you what they want," he continued, "the audience clearly wants to have the option to view different stories in different ways."

"You're sixty, and a grandfather; it's enough to make one check their watch," Brian Williams said about Howard as he asked him questions about his career. When called upon to tell stories about the people he's worked with in his career that has now spanned six decades, Howard's abilities as a story teller came to the forefront. John Wayne, Henry Fonda, Betty Davis, Jimmy Stewart are among the legends he's acted with or directed. Howard recalled his first meeting with "The Duke." He was picked up at the airport in Carson City, Nevada by "The Shootist" dirctor, Don Siegel and driven to the motel where they were all staying. "C'mon," Siegel said, "let me introduce you to The Duke." Upon introducing the young star of "Happy Days" to John Wayne, Siegel handed Wayne a copy of the latest TV Guide that he picked up at the airport. It featured Ron Howard and Henry Winkler on the cover. "A big shot, huh?" said Wayne. Howard later asked Wayne if he wanted to run lines. Wayne told Howard that no one had ever asked him to do that before. Howard was struck by how hard Wayne worked on finding the right spots to insert his trademark pauses and hitches. They weren't by accident, they were part of a "structured performance." "That's one thing all the great ones had in common," Howard recalled, "they always worked a little bit harder than everyone else."

Howard co-starred with John Wayne in the Duke's final film, the 1976 Western classic The Shootist. Wayne considered young Howard to be among the most professional actors he had ever worked with.

Williams asked Howard if he would ever return to acting. "I would kind of like to," Howard replied - much to the audience's approval. Now that he and his wife are empty nesters she's urging him to get out of the house more.
He told the story of how he got his first full-length feature directing job. "Kids off TV sitcoms were not from the fertile ground where the industry looked for directors." He made a deal with Roger Corman who wanted him to make "Eat My Dust," a film he did not want to star in. Corman gave him the opportunity to pitch a film that was in the same car-chase vein. "Grand Theft Auto" was the result. Howard co-wrote the script with his father, actor Rance Howard, and it was a major boxoffice success. The rest, as they say, is history. A few years later Howard gave up acting completely in order to concentrate on his booming career as a director, although out of sentiment, he did co-star in the smash hit TV movie "Return to Mayberry" in 1986 out of sentiment and respect for his co-stars from "The Andy Griffith Show".

The subject of politics and popular culture came up. Howard is a great believer in American culture. "We are truly a melting pot nation and we understand how to make it work and grow." Working primarily in Europe for  the last few years, he is troubled by the confusing messages the United States sends to the rest of the world, the whole red state/ blue state thing. People are purposely polarized. Moderate ideas, he claims, don't get any attention. The only messages that get attention are those of the extremists.
In closing, Brian Williams told Howard that "If our country were to prepare a time capsule, your films would have to be in it - if not you, yourself." A quick look on IMDB  as a reminder of his distinguished directorial career may have you feeling the same way.

(Giacomo Selloni is a playwright and serves as Treasurer of the legendary Players club in New York City.)  

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

I.B.TAURIS PRESS RELEASE

OUTER LIMITS

THE FILMGOERS’ GUIDE TO THE GREAT SCIENCE-FICTION FILMS

Howard Hughes

Published in Paperback
30 May 2014
£14.99 | 9781780761664

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

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

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

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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

PRAISE FOR HOWARD HUGHES’ BOOKS

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

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

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

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

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

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

CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON USA

CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON UK

There will be a special two-day 50th anniversary tribute to the James Bond classic "Goldfinger" held in Oslo, Norway May 22-23. Ken Adam, the legendary Oscar-winning production designer, will be an honored guest along with his biographer Sir Christopher Frayling, Norman Wanstall (who won an Oscar for his sound effects for the film) and actress Margaret Nolan, who played "Dink" and whose body was seen in the classic opening titles sequence. For full information and schedule click here

Joe Dante's Trailers From Hell site presents the original theatrical trailer for John Boorman's classic 1972 screen adaptation of James Dickey's "Deliverance" starring Jon Voight, Burt Reynolds and Ronny Cox and Ned Beatty, both in their feature film debuts. The trailer includes commentary by film director Neil Labute. Click here to view  Click here for Cinema Retro's review of the Blu-ray 40th anniversary release.

(This review pertains to the Region 2 UK release) 

By Paul Risker

Unemployed and disgruntled Ronnie (Robert Buchanan) hatches a plan to steal  ninety sinks as a means to solving his financial hardship. Recruiting his closest friends, against the grey backdrop of Glasgow, eight teenagers plan to pull off the cinematic caper that would define 1979.

Alongside the 60th Anniversary release of Akira Kurosawa's seminal action masterpiece Seven Samurai, the month of April would find the BFI with one eye fixed on Japan, and the other on home soil.

With their Flipside label the BFI proudly champions the rediscovery of British cult films, and the latest film to find itself inducted into this illustrious catalogue is Bill Forsyth's 1980 caper comedy That Sinking Feeling.

It is hard to think of two more distinct films finding themselves on the release slate alongside one another. In spite of being worlds apart, they share a single similarity, and to the astute eye it is a singularity that multiplies. That Sinking Feeling and Seven Samurai together are perhaps a testament to the fact that films, like people, are individuals but also live within a cinematic or narrative society.

As unmistakably Japanese as is Seven Samurai – although it would be the seed of inspiration for John Sturges’ The Magnificent Seven -- Forsyth's Glaswegian crime caper has British cinematic blood coursing through its veins. It is indelibly a cult British classic,, regardless of whether or not you’d describe it in that typically English way as your “cup of tea.”

The role That Sinking Feeling plays in the story of both British and international independent cinema should not be overlooked. Highlighted in an entry of Kermode Uncut that can be found amongst the extras, Forsyth discusses how he constructed the film’s budget and how he gathered non-financial resources that made his debut feature anything but a sinking endeavour. It positions Forsyth as one of cinema's ingenious independent filmmakers, and his story allows us to compare the landscape of independent cinema and the working filmmaker from then to now.

With its shade of social realism through the disenchanted youth, Forsyth and his cast of characters turn hardship into comedic gold, or at least they attempt to do so through a caper that more than thirty years on may strike one as pointless, and even perhaps, as amusing as the film itself. That being said, with the recent scurrying around for scrap metal and copper that has helped regional news programmes fill their schedule, That Sinking Feeling may not have sunk as deeply into the past as one might imagine.

From the outset Forsyth imbues the film with playfulness - the film's title sinking off-screen to the suggestion of Glasgow as a fictitious place. Add to that the wry smile that frequents Ronnie’s (Robert Buchanan's) lips and it is almost as if the film is trying not to laugh along with itself; an infectious humour that would similarly plague Seinfeld cast members years later.

The fictitious place known as Glasgow is one that may just intertwine itself with an inner knowing truth that Glasgow is real, and the grey urban landscape of Forsyth’s debut feature is a reflection that possesses a certain proportion of truth.

Constructed with a seeming focus on individual moments - the opening monologue, the science-fiction comedy element and the encounter with a pretentious art dealer amongst others, That Sinking Feeling is made up of comedy segments that undermine the fluidity of a narrative gliding towards its destination. Whilst it does successfully tell the story of a caper, and the forming of a gang, it decidedly feels as if it is a film of moments that should be appreciated as such.

Although it is rough around the edges, and it habitually surrenders to the moment, it should be regarded as both criticism and praise. These faults afford That Sinking Feeling a vitality that so often can be found in first films where directors succumb to the moment, a creative energy or instinct. After all, film is constructed of moments, and the creation of these moments that permits a film to exude charm and energy is reason enough for celebration.

With a comprehensive set of extras of first-hand accounts, the BFI have pulled Forsyth's debut out of the shadows cast by Forsyth’s better known and often more celebrated Gregory's Girl and Local Hero. That Sinking Feeling may be a title of introspective truth regarding its own fate.

Whilst the dark confines of the cinema may be the traditional spiritual experience of the cineaste, to fine connoisseurs of home entertainment such as the BFI, they are equally a beguiling means towards discovery or rediscovery. If the truth be told, they possess a greater capacity to take us beyond the film, and with the restored original Glaswegian audio track and a spate of extras, for those either not born in 1979 or for those too young to see That Sinking Feeling on its initial theatrical release, the BFI Flipside release is a beguiling means of discovery, and for all others re-discovery with it restored to Forsyth’s original vision.

Click here to order from Amazon UK

By Don L. Stradley 

Martin Ritt's Conrack, now available on Blu-ray from Twilight Time, first hit theaters in 1974. This was a time when new, brash directors were reinventing American cinema, a time when movie screens were likely spackled with vomit from demonically possessed little girls, or blood from the victims of Dirty Harry Callahan's .44 Magnum. Theaters in your neighborhood were just as likely to be playing hardcore porn as the latest Paul Newman movie. Ritt's simple tale of an optimistic white teacher in a schoolroom of dirt poor black students was a success just by squeaking through to its birth.

Looking at it 40 years later, one is struck by two things, namely, Jon Voight's relentless energy and goodwill as the big-hearted teacher, and the very realistic performances from the kids. Even while acknowledging the film's uneven tone, or what one critic deemed "a crazy quilt of naturalism, farce, and soap opera all jumbled together," one is still intrigued by Conrack. Maybe the idea that a caring soul might try to educate some people who would otherwise remain ignorant strikes a primal cord within us. Maybe there's something irresistible about sheltered folks suddenly realizing there is more to the world than their dirty little backwater. Or maybe, and this might trump all the other maybes, we all hated school so much that we wish our own lives had been enriched, even briefly, by someone like Conrack.

Pat Conroy, a young idealist, takes a teaching position on a remote island in a South Carolina river delta. He's vowed to grow his hair until the war stops (the story takes place in 1969) and the locals look at him as if they're seeing a mythical animal up close, for a towering blonde white man on an island made up almost entirely of blacks is as odd as a unicorn. The locals can't even pronounce his name, which creates the movie's title. The newly dubbed Conrack fends off their suspicions with a grin as wide as the Bible belt, and then sets about teaching "the babies," as these fifth through eighth graders are called. He's shocked to find out the level of his students' ignorance - they can't read, they know nothing about life beyond the island, they've never heard of Babe Ruth or Halloween, have never played football, and, Heaven forbid, they don't even know that coffee comes from Brazil.

Based on Pat Conroy's memoir ‘The Water Is Wide,’ the story follows Conrack's effort to help these children even as he is met by resistance from the school's principal, a middle aged black woman (Madge Sinclair) who believes the children need to beaten with a leather strap, and superintendent Skeffington (Hume Cronyn), a grinning sadist who likes to grab a kid by the thumb and twist, a punishing move he calls "milking the rat." Add to this a local drunk (Paul Winfield) who skulks around the island like Boo Radley, the talkative Mr. Quickfellow (Antonio Fargas) who stalks 13-year-old girls with promises of new dresses, plus the natural reluctance of students who have never been challenged, and it seems Conrack has entered a world that may be too much for him to conquer.

Yet, armed with nothing but his enthusiasm, Conrack gradually earns the love and respect of the classroom. The kids, as meek as church mice at the movie’s start, are soon chanting James Brown songs, and dressed up for a Halloween trip to Beaufort. Conrack's teaching methods are unorthodox - he tickles, wrestles, and teases the students, and when he learns that no one on the island knows how to swim, he promptly throws the kids, one by one, into the river. His freewheeling style gets results. He even gets the class to sit still long enough to listen to some recordings of classical music. I like how the kids calmly pay attention to the sounds coming from the old turntable. In a more contemporary movie, they all would have picked up instruments, mastered them overnight, and would have then gone on to win a contest of some kind, for in modern America a story is only uplifting if you can crush someone and win a prize. But in Conrack, the kids merely listen; they’re quietly mystified by the music, happy that they can come close to pronouncing the names of Beethoven or Brahms. Conrack even picks up one of the younger boys and cradles him as the music plays, inviting him to close his eyes and sleep. Somehow, Conrack's good intentions get him labeled as "an outside agitator" and fired from his job. Conrack tries to fight the verdict but is no match for Skeffington’s power as superintendent. His good spirit bloodied but unbowed, Conrack leaves the island. To the children he says, "May the river be kind to you when you cross it."

As one might have expected, reactions to the movie were mixed: syndicated columnist David Sterritt dismissed it as "an audacious attempt at mythmaking." Indeed there are scenes of Conrack jogging along the beach, his class running along behind him, as if he’s some sort of golden haired pied piper, an image that probably ruffled some feathers in the super cynical ‘70s. The New York Times gave it a mostly positive review, but lamented the film's "glaze of sentimentality that sugars much of the narrative."

MI6 Confidential, the terrific British James Bond magazine, is now shipping issue #25. Highlights include: interview with legendary stuntman/coordinator/second unit director Vic Armstrong; interview with former United Artists head of production David V. Picker; The Cars of Ian Fleming; interview with Lana Wood of Diamonds Are Forever, The Bond in Motion London auto exhibition; the story behind the James Bond Jr. animated series, and much more. Click here to order.  

L to R – Senior Archivist Dr. Greg Bradsher; Chief U.S. Archivist David Ferriero; Monuments Men Foundation Chairman Robert Edsel and real-life Monuments Man Harry Ettlinger. All attended a ceremony today (May 8, 2014) at the National Archives in Washington where Edsel donated “Hitler Album No. 6” to the Archive. The photo album has now been reunited with 39 other “Hitler Albums” documenting the looting of cultural treasures in Nazi-occupied Europe that were recovered at the end of World War II. Ettlinger represented the historic group honored most recently in Sony Pictures’ THE MONUMENTS MEN, based on Edsel’s No.1 New York Times’ bestseller, which is now available on Digital and on Blu-ray™ May 20. (Photography: copyright Bruce Guthrie

Cinema Retro has received the following press release from Sony:

CULVER CITY, Calif. (May 8, 2014) / PRNewswire — At a ceremony today at the U.S. National Archives in Washington, D.C., Monuments Men Foundation Founder and Chairman Robert Edsel donated “Hitler Album No. 6” to the Archive, reuniting it with 39 other “Hitler Albums” recovered at the end of World War II. Chief Archivist of the United States, David Ferriero, accepted the album from the foundation and Monuments Man Harry Ettlinger. Ettlinger represents the historic group honored most recently in Sony Pictures’
THE MONUMENTS MEN, which is based on Mr. Edsel’s No.1 New York Times’ bestselling book of the same name.

George Clooney’s action thriller THE MONUMENTS MEN is now available on Digital from Sony Pictures Home Entertainment, starring Clooney, Matt Damon, Bill Murray, John Goodman, Jean Dujardin, Bob Balaban, Hugh Bonneville and Cate Blanchett.[i] The Blu-ray™ Combo Pack and DVD are available on May 20, including bonus features with Ettlinger and Edsel, who worked closely with Clooney during the production of the film.

The brown leather-bound album of photographs donated today was created by the staff of a special Nazi taskforce, the Einsatzstab Reichsleiter Rosenberg (ERR), which documented Hitler’s systematic looting of cultural treasures in Nazi-occupied Europe. The ERR staff catalogued the French collections by creating leather-bound photo albums, including Album No. 6, with each page containing a photograph of one stolen item with inventory codes denoting the family to which it belonged. These albums were specifically created for Hitler in an effort to keep him apprised of the ERR’s progress in France. In May 1945, 39 original ERR albums, along with records that documented the confiscation of thousands of looted items, were discovered at the Castle of Neuschwanstein in Germany by the Monuments Men, including Lt. James Rorimer, who after the war became the sixth Director of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The albums were subsequently taken to the Munich Central Collecting Point, where they were used by the Monuments Men, including Harry Ettlinger, to assist in the restitution process. The albums were also introduced as evidence at the Nuremberg trials to document the massive Nazi art looting operation.

Today, the U.S. National Archives has custody of the original 39 albums. It was believed that additional ERR albums had been destroyed during the latter days of World War II. However, since 2007, The Monuments Men Foundation discovered three additional albums, which have since been donated to the U.S. National Archives, joining the original 39 albums. Album No. 6 was found when an heir of an American soldier stationed in the Berchtesgaden area of Germany contacted the Monuments Men Foundation. In the closing days of World War II, the soldier had entered Hitler’s home in the Bavarian Alps and picked up the album as a souvenir. The soldier’s nephew, who later inherited the album, was initially unaware of their historical significance until meeting with Edsel.

“The Foundation often receives calls on our toll free tip line, 1-866-WWII-ART, from veterans and their heirs, who don’t know the importance of cultural and artistic items they brought home after their military service, or aren’t aware that anyone is looking for the items,” Edsel stated. “This album is just the tip of the iceberg, and thanks to George Clooney and the success of The Monuments Men film, global awareness about these heroes of civilization has increased dramatically. We are delighted, and anticipate that the home entertainment rollout of the film will continue to help us honor the legacy of the men and women, and complete their mission by locating and returning works of art and cultural items to their rightful owners.”

Bonus features on THE MONUMENTS MEN include two all-new featurettes that highlight the making of the film. The first, “George Clooney’s Mission,” features interviews with Clooney, as well as the rest of the cast, on the elements that went into completing THE MONUMENTS MEN. The second featurette, “Marshalling the Troops,” features a cast discussion on the real men and women who inspired the film. Exclusively available on the Blu-ray Combo Pack are deleted scenes and two additional exclusive featurettes. “In Their Own Words” is a unique piece that offers the most comprehensive and direct insight into the hearts and minds of the heroes, featuring an interview with Ettlinger, one of the last surviving members of the Monuments Men.
“A Woman Amongst the Monuments Men” features a discussion with Cate Blanchett about her film character, Claire Simone, who is based on French heroine Rose Valland.

Review by Darren Allison

On Chris' Soundtrack Corner label

Stelvio Cipriani's beautiful percussion based score for Joe D'Amato's ORGASMO NERO (1980) (CSC 014) sits very nicely alongside Chris' Soundtrack Corner’s previously released PAPAYA DEI CARAIBI (1978) (CSC 006). Both films are among D’Amato’s island-based sexploitation features and both were scored by Italian composer Cipriani. Both of Cipriani’s scores are superb examples of Mondo-exotica/erotica film music. Beyond the percussion based tribal themes there are also many subtle and romantic pieces that reflect the sun, sand and sexuality – each of which were often the staple exponents of European cult cinema of the 70s. Yes, these films were of course adult sub-genres, and in this case the focus was on American born actor Richard Harrison who plays Paul, an ethnological researcher who is investigating a little known island tribe. Paul is accompanied on the trip by his wife Helen (played by Spanish actress Nieves Navarro). Helen subsequently begins a sexual relationship with Haini (Lucia Ramirez), a beautiful black tribeswoman who exercises a lusty ‘primitive’ sexuality. Thus begins a fractured love triangle – a relationship that is further complicated when Paul and Helen take Haini back with them to the big city. From here on, D’Amato relies on a very familiar and tested formula, using each occurring situation as the premise for a soft porn sequence.

Cipriani's music is always reliable and often outlives the film itself, and this again proves to be the case with ORGASMO NERO. Cipriani provides some rich Bossa cuts, but you are never too far away from a piece of evocative, multi layered ambiance. Cipriani wisely chose a contrast of styles, an intelligent decision on his part – as it isn’t hard to imagine how other (and arguably lessor) composers may have simply relegated it to one particular genre. Fans and collectors of Cipriani’s work will certainly have little problem melting into this latest release and no doubt take to it like an old familiar friend.

To order click here

Lorcan Otway, owner of the legendary New York theater, starts off the festivities.

Actress Arlene Dahl ("Journey to the Center of the Earth") introduces Alan Cumming.

Alan prepares to be "immortalized" in cement for the theater's walk of fame.

On Monday night, Cinema Retro was invited to attend a private party in honor of actor Alan Cumming at New York's legendary and quirky Theatre 80 St. Marks on St. Marks Place. The venue has its own mini "walk of fame" that dates back many decades. The Theatre/bar also houses the Museum of the American Gangster, as it once had a sordid history that included a gangland rubout. Alan Cumming graciously signed the cement block, having been introduced by the theater's owner Lorcan Otway and actress Arlene Dahl. After the party, everyone thundered to the famed bar, where plenty of good brews and live Irish music (and Irish whiskey) rounded out the evening. (Alan Cumming is currently reprising his Tony Award-winning role in Cabaret on Broadway.) 

If you are in New York and would like to visit Theatre 80 St. Marks, click here for info.

(All photos copyright Cinema Retro. All rights reserved.)

By Todd Garbarini

Ivan Kavanagh’s The Canal (2014) is the one of the creepiest, most brilliantly photographed and edited psychological studies I have seen of late. An utterly frightening and unsettling concoction, The Canal, which screened last month at the 2014 Tribeca Film Festival, pulls no punches in creating an overwhelming feeling of dread while constantly keeping the audience on its guard.

David (Rupert Evans) is a film archivist who appears to have a wonderful home life. He and his expectant wife Alice (Hannah Hoekstra) visit a prospective house, with a canal not far off, to settle in. As Alice inspects the layout, David sees what appears to be someone walking through the first floor. Vexed, he swears that he saw someone. Or did he? Five years hence their lives appear ordinary with the addition of their young son, Billy (Calum Heath). Alice keeps telling David she loves him prior to leaving for work or following mechanical sex. It arouses suspicion; at a dinner party, Alice rushes off to speak with a client, Alex (Carl Shabaan), but David notices intimate exchanges between the two and when she returns to dance with him, and we see the estrangement on their faces.

At work, David’s work partner Claire (Antonia Campbell-Hughes) tells him that new footage has come in and needs to be viewed for archiving. He is shocked to learn that it is a detail of a 1902 crime scene that took place inside the bedroom that he and his wife now occupy (this is a point that the estate agent naturally neglected to impart to the couple.) The footage has the look and feel of authenticity (the effect could have probably been created in post-production on a computer utilizing a high brow software package) and director Kavanagh shot the crime scene aftermath with a 1915 Universal movie camera by using the lowest speed black and white 35mm stock that he and his crew could find. The film delves more into a ghost story that recalls The Shining (1980), The Ring (2005), and The Innkeepers (2011) in terms of imagery and mood. Veteran composer Ceiri Torjussen provides a brilliantly effective, frightening and memorable score.

David starts to become unhinged. When his wife prepares to go to work, David pleads with her to come straight home and she promises to. After work, David follows her as she and Alex, their affair now obviously confirmed, walk to Alex’s house which is opposite a canal. David follows them from a distance, and catches them in the midst of sexual passion, leaving him feeling betrayed and disillusioned. He stumbles into the worst cinematic toilet seen since Danny Boyle’s Trainspotting (1996) and begins to see flashes of the murder that occurred well over 100 years ago. Like the best ghost stories, The Canal presents us with images that give us pause to determine if they are real or if they are just happening in the mind of the protagonist.

When David’s wife goes missing, he contacts the police and tries desperately to locate her. The lead officer on the case (Steve Oram) immediately suspects David killed her and asks him straight out; David is bewildered by the inquiry. His son Billy is too young to understand the concepts of disappearance and death; Sophie the nanny (Kelly Byrne) is concerned for Billy’s welfare but is also afraid for her own safety and as David becomes more and more frenetic she feels the need to leave.

The film is beset in imagery that references pregnancy and childbirth; water, as it did in Robert Altman’s dreamlike 3 Women (1977), plays a big factor, as does duality. The references in The Canal are two-fold – there is the canal where David’s wife’s body is found, and the birth canal is referenced in a scene of unnerving horror.

By Lee Pfeiffer 

Explosive Media is an exciting new German company that specializes in releasing excellent Blu-ray and DVD editions of retro movies. The good news is that all of their releases are "region free", which means they will play on any Blu-ray/DVD system. The bad news is that if you don't live in Germany, you might have a difficult time obtaining these unless you order through Amazon Germany or find the the titles through third party sellers. Nevertheless, our considerable European readership will be especially gratified that some excellent titles are now available through this company. One of those titles is The Revengers, a little-remembered but very worthwhile 1972 Western that reunited Wild Bunch co-stars William Holden and Ernest Borgnine, along with another Western icon, the great Woody Strode. The time-worn premise is a familiar one to fans of the genre. Holden plays John Benedict, a successful rancher with a loving family consisting of two sons, two daughters and a devoted wife. One day, while out hunting a mountain lion, Benedict is alerted to the fact that his ranch is being attacked by a band of ruthless rustlers. By the time he makes his way home, he finds a horrific sight to greet him: his entire family and dedicated farm hand have been mercilessly slaughtered. Benedict is overcome with grief but his overriding emotion is for revenge. He learns the band of cutthroats consists of renegade Indians and white men who are led by Tarp (Warren Vanders), who is leading the pack and their stolen herd to a hideout encampment in Mexico where they will use the horses to trade for guns and liquor. Benedict travels to Mexico and hand picks a gang of convicts who are suffering under horrid conditions in a desert prison. He "rents" them ostensibly to do labor in a mine but actually enlists them to accompany him on his seemingly suicidal mission to infiltrate Tarp's camp so he can have his revenge. Predictably, the motley crew double crosses and even robs him- but in the end, his faith in them is justified when they return and inform him they will go with him. They embark on a year-long quest to find Tarp's camp and when they do, a major battle ensues during which Tarp escapes. Benedict and his ragtag "army" continue the hunt but not without some infighting within their group that leads to Benedict being seriously wounded by one of his own men. 

The Revengers looked like pretty standard horse opera stuff at the time of its release. At times it's like The Comancheros meet The Magnificent Seven by way of The Dirty Dozen and The Searchers. However, the film plays better today with Holden and Borgnine giving fine performances (the latter is particularly amusing as the sleaziest of Holden's allies) with Woody Strode and an impressive cast of supporting actors adding to the mix. Susan Hayward (in her last film role) pops up briefly as a lonely Irish nurse who cares for the wounded Holden. Director Daniel Mann makes the most of the Mexican locations and there is some truly inspired cinematography by Gabriel Torres. There are also any number of well-staged action sequences including a hell of a battle when Holden's group aids an outnumbered outpost of U.S. Cavalry against an overwhelming number of Comancheros. These scenes feature some of the best horse falls stunts of the era. The only criticism from a technical standpoint is that composer Pino Calvi's score seems dated and more appropriate for an old episode of Starsky and Hutch.

The Blu-ray edition boasts a crystal clear transfer with the film available in both English and German languages. Explosive provides some nice extras including a four-page German language illustrated booklet, a great gallery of original posters and German lobby cards and several trailers for other releases including a terrific promo for Burt Lancaster in Valdez is Coming.

Explosive Media titles may be hard to get in the English language market, but they are worth going to some trouble to obtain.

Click here to visit their web site with links to Amazon Germany.

(In America, Paramount is reissuing the film on DVD, but not Blu-ray. Click here to order)  

Paramount Home Video is releasing a special Blu-ray edition of the John Wayne/Maureen O'Hara hit Mclintock! (1963) in May. Here are the details. Pre-order now!

Synopsis: McLintock! presents screen giant John Wayne at his two-fisted best, with the beautiful, fiery Maureen O’Hara as the proverbial thorn in his side. The Duke stars as George Washington McLintock, a proud, defiant cattle baron whose daughter is due home from college. But G.W.’s happy reunion is tempered by the arrival of his headstrong wife (O’Hara), who recently left him. Verbal fireworks explode, slapstick pratfalls bloom… and the Wayne-O’Hara “reconciliation” culminates with the notorious “spanking” scene and the biggest mudhole brawl this side of the Mississippi in this wild, raucous and hilarious Western comedy!

Audio & Subtitles:

· English 5.1 Dolby TrueHD, English Mono Dolby TrueHD, French 5.1 Dolby Digital, Spanish 5.1 Dolby Digital & Portuguese 5.1 Dolby Digital

· English, English SDH, French, Spanish & Portuguese Subtitles      

Special Features:

· Introduction by Leonard Maltin

· Commentaries by Leonard Maltin, Frank Thompson, Maureen O’Hara, Stefanie Powers, Michael Pate, Michael Wayne and Andrew McLaglen

· The Making of McLintock!

· The Corset: Don’t Leave Home Without One!

· 2 Minute Fight School

· Photo Gallery

· Theatrical Trailer HD

CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON  

Efrem Zimbalist Jr., the son of a violin master and an opera singer who became an acclaimed actor, has died at age 95. Zimbalist had a recurring role in the 1950s hit TV series Maverick before starring with Roger Smith as private eyes in the smash hit 1958 series 77 Sunset Strip. However, it was in the 1960s that his star really rose by top-lining the TV show The F.B.I. The series was a love letter to the bureau and won praise from its controversial and mercurial director, J. Edgar Hoover, who gave unprecedented cooperation to the series. Zimablist went on to appear with his daughter Stephanie Zimbalist and Pierce Brosnan in another crime show, the 1980s hit Remington Steele. His feature films include Wait Until Dark, Airport 1975, The Crowded Sky and The Chapman Report. For more click here

Seven James Bond films starring Sean Connery and Roger Moore debut in May on Netfllix, North America. Titles are:  Goldfinger, You Only Live Twice, A View to a Kill, From Russia With Love, Live and Let Die, For Your Eyes Only and Never Say Never Again.  Click here for a list of other films and TV shows debuting this month. 

By Lee Pfeiffer

There are precious few things in life that reach the status of absolute perfection. Off-hand I can think of three:

1. A top notch Cuban cigar.

2. A wee-small hours meal in a New Jersey White Castle.

3. Any performance by the New York Philharmonic.

Last night, I had the opportunity to cover the latter for Cinema Retro, as the Philharmonic, under the direction of the esteemed conductor David Newman, presented a magnificent tribute to the music of the Pixar animated film classics. The event took place at Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center in New York City and was the latest production in the legendary orchestra's tie-ins to major motion pictures. Last year, I reported on the Philharmonic's similar celebration of the films of Alfred Hitchcock. (Click here for coverage)  However, the Pixar event was even more impressive. My one gripe with the Hitchcock event was that the film clips included dialogue which distracted from the fact that a live orchestra was providing the background music. Obviously those concerns were shared by others because the clips used in the Pixar tribute were silent, thus allowing the full impact of the magical music scores to be appreciated. 

David Newman addressed the packed auditorium prior to the concert and gave some fascinating insights into his family's long ties with film compositions. His father, Alfred Newman, was one of the most acclaimed movie composers of all time, having been accorded an astonishing 45 Oscar nominations and 9 wins. David is a noted film composer in his own right, his brother Thomas has been nominated for 12 Oscars and cousin Randy Newman has been nominated for 16 Oscars and won twice. It's doubtful there will ever be such a family legacy again in the course of motion picture history. David Newman's enthusiasm for the event was evident. He put his heart and soul into the performance. Drenched with sweat but clearly brimming with family pride, he provided an encore of Randy Newman's classic "You've Got a Friend in Me" from the original "Toy Story". It brought down the house. Kudos also to the editing team that so painstakingly put together the film clip montages that perfectly accompanied the scores. In all, there were selections from "Toy Story", "Finding Nemo", "Ratatouille", "A Bug's Life", "WALL-E", "Toy Story 2", "Cars", "Up", "The Incredibles", "Monsters, Inc.", "Cars 2", "Toy Story 3", "Brave" and "Monsters University". All but five of these scores were written by Randy or Thomas Newman. Four of the remaining scores were written by Michael Giacchino, with the score for the Scottish-themed "Brave" composed by Patrick Doyle. (There was a bagpiper brought out on stage to perform with the Philharmonic for themes from this film.)

We've written frequently about the fact that most contemporary movies lack memorable film scores. Composers are treated today like necessary evils rather than valued contributors to the finished movie. Often, they are brought on board after the movie has been completed and given an abbreviated time table to knock out a score. Compare that to the old days when composers were viewed as integral members of the production team who were often scoring sequences while the movie was still in production. The Pixar films still provide high profile presentations of major composer's work. Hearing these superb scores played by one of the world's greatest orchestras was a truly thrilling experience. Even more pleasing was the fact that there were many children in attendance. What better way could there be to illustrate to a young person the the contributions of musical scores to films?

The concerts opened last night and run tonight and tomorrow, May 3. Do not hesitate to attend if you possibly can. (Click here for ticket info) 

Now I have to get those two other "perfect" things in life, so I'll have to track down a Cuban cigar while I head off to a White Castle here in Jersey.  

By Don L. Stradley 

When a young woman is killed in the woods near the Florence Nightingale Institute, detectives immediately begin their investigation at the weird old nursing establishment. Why wouldn’t they? The place seemed full to bursting with suspicious characters. There was shifty-eyed Dr. Cabala, for instance, who looked too much like Christopher Lee to be totally innocent. Or maybe it was Dr. Carter, who seems a bit too enthusiastic about splashing around in the guts of dissected frogs. (His fingers seem permanently stained from frog juice). Then there was Hettie Green, the head of the nurses who liked to welcome new trainees with a very sensual bedtime massage. Accusations could also be aimed at Moss, the drooling hunchback who wandered the landing in his role as handyman, often peeking in on the young nurses as they slept or showered. Then again, maybe it was the cloaked figure in the top hat who seemed to always be lurking in the shadows. There’s even a young nurse who is acting in a local stage production of Dr. Jekyll and Mister Hyde, a small girl whose delicate hands belie a facility with a sword. That’s only part of the cast of characters in The Jekyll and Hyde Portfolio, an occasionally bloody and often pornographic mess from 1971, brought back to gory life by the kind fellows at Vinegar Syndrome, a group that thrives on reviving long buried grindhouse dreck.

The epic was directed by Eric Jeffrey Haims, who spent a brief time making porno movies in Hollywood under the auspices of his bare bones production company, Xerxes Productions Ltd. Haims gained a small amount of publicity when his 101 Acts of Love was shown at Hollywood’s Las Palmas Theater in ’71 before an invited group of medical professionals. The film was part of a benefit, with proceeds going to the LA Free Clinic. Haims’ piece was one of those bogus medical documentaries that were made as an excuse to show couples humping, yet J. Michael Kenyon of the Hollywood Reporter praised the thing: “…the beauty and intrinsic calm of physical delight are well highlighted by artful rendition…” I wonder if Kenyon saw The Jekyll and Hyde Portfolio?

According to those who keep track of such things, The Jekyll and Hyde Portfolio was given an extremely limited VHS release many years ago by Intervision Video, resulting in some outlandish bidding wars on Internet auction sites. There have been instances of it selling for over $1,500. (Who bid that much? It must have been J. Michael Kenyon.) Not to dampen the spirits of the lucky winners, but I can’t imagine what made this movie such a collectible title. True, there are some scenes of lesbianism, and a lot of nudity, and some of the ladies are very pretty. As for the Sappho stuff, the girls give it the old college try, which probably helped the movie get its X rating. I can even understand how some might point to this movie as a forerunner of the slasher flicks that would explode by the end of the decade. (In fact, The Jekyll and Hyde Portfolio boasts a scene where a couple’s barnyard coitus is interrupted when the male is beheaded by someone wielding a nasty looking scythe, a distinctly Friday the 13th type of murder.) I'm also sure that many bidders were titillated by the idea of a horror movie cast with performers from the porn industry. Still, for $1,500 you can get real women to come to your house and do stuff to you. On the other hand, who knows what owning the actual VHS in its original box can do for a fellow’s social standing.

On the plus side, the movie is not bad looking. Cinematographer Arch Archambault was fresh off of shooting Count Yorga, Vampire, and he creates a nice, saucy atmosphere for the lesbian nurses and twitchy doctors to roam around in. There’s a scene in the hospital where the very beautiful Mady Maguire (as Dr. Leticia Boges) wanders in the dark with a candle; the scene is downright atmospheric, as if we’re suddenly watching a real movie made by competent filmmakers. Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long. Maguire, incidentally, may be familiar to some for her occasional appearances on ‘The Beverly Hillbillies’, and for her starring role in Norma, a cheapo stinker where she played a nymphomaniac. The final role of her illustrious career came in 1980 with an appearance on the short-lived ‘Tenspeed and Brown Shoe.’

Other than the occasional inspired moment from Archambault, there’s not much to recommend. The acting is of community theater quality, and the script is like something a junior high school kid would write after watching a couple of old Hammer films. Aside from the sex scenes (which contain plenty of groping and heavy breathing), the actors move woodenly and unconvincingly through the creaky plot, decked out in what barely passes for 1870s period costuming, but making no attempt to hide what were obviously 1971 hairstyles, and distinctly modern, urban accents. (One of the nurses sounds like Fran Drescher, and the two detectives on the case, while dressed as Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson, sound like extras from 'Kojak.')

Aficionados of vintage '70s porn might be interested to know that Rene Bond, who by some estimations appeared in anywhere from 80 to 300 porn productions, appears here in a key role. Bond earned some notoriety for being one of the first women in porn to undergo breast augmentation (allegedly paid for by porn producer Harry Novak). Bond's real life boyfriend and longtime porn partner Ric Lutze is also in the film. Bond and Lutze look like kids here, and even though there isn't an ounce of talent between them, I wonder if they thought The Jekyll and Hyde Portfolio, which was promoted as a horror film, might lead to more roles in non-porn features. It didn't. By 1978, Bond would drift away from porn and embark on a somewhat successful career as a Las Vegas stripper. She died young, at 45, from cirrhosis of the liver. It's rather bittersweet to see her here, young and vibrant.

Another familiar face to lovers of old porn will be Nora Wieternik. She plays Amber Van Buren, a sexed-up nurse whose wardrobe consists of a single corset. She’s appropriately bawdy for a goofy film like this one, and the only member of the cast who seems to know what she’s doing. Wieternik would work often during the early 1970s, usually as a hooker or a hippie in such classics as Dr. Dildo’s Secret. Some might recognize her as Queen Amora in the campy spoof Flesh Gordon (1974). I also enjoyed the work of the brilliantly named Hump Hardy, the sinister looking chap who played Moss the hunchback. Hump had an almost superhuman ability to drool on cue, which is why I'm so surprised he never acted again. Surely there was a place for him somewhere in Hollywood.

But wait, there’s more! Vinegar Syndrome added a second Eric Haims feature to make this DVD a double event (it is part of their ongoing “Drive-In Collection”). The B side of the program is A Clockwork Blue (1972), a throwback to the nudie cuties of 12 years before. This time Haims takes some of the same cast members from The Jekyll and Hyde Portfolio and dresses them as various historical figures, including Marie Antoinette, Louis XVI, and Betsy Ross. Viewers are taken through a sort of kinky trip through history, as if any of us really wanted to know about Betsy Ross’ sex life. The movie is as dumb as it sounds, but A Clockwork Blue was actually a bigger hit than The Jekyll and Hyde Portfolio, having a longer shelf life on the porn theater circuit, sometimes as part of a bill with Deep Throat. Not surprisingly, Warner Bros. took Haims and company to court over the title sounding too much like A Clockwork Orange. Haims backed down, and changed the title of his film to A Tic Toc Blue.

For those keeping score, both titles are scanned in 2K & 4K from 35 MM internegative (Jekyll) and 35 MM camera negative (Clockwork).

No extras here, just a lot of bad acting from people who could screw on cue but couldn’t recite simple dialog.

CLICK BELOW TO ORDER FROM AMAZON

By Christopher Robinson

In 1977, a low-budget flick about the New York disco scene became a sudden sensation. Today it looms large in the pantheon of iconic cinema. Several of its moments, however, allude to another equally iconic film. Well, more so than that Wizard of Oz/’Dark Side of the Moon’ myth, anyway.

Saturday Night Fever’s success was undoubtedly attributed to several factors. There are gripping performances, multi-dimensional characters and a soaring soundtrack featuring the Bee Gees that steals the show. At the heart of it all is an undeniably compelling story.

Tony Manero(John Travolta) lives in Brooklyn with his parents, sister and grandmother. He works at a hardware store and on Saturdays, treks to the local discotheque where he reigns supreme as the neighborhood’s premier disco dancer. He parties, drinks and carouses with his buddies then goes home and sleeps it off, dreaming of more in life. ‘Night fever’: he knows how to do it and has fun but something is missing and at age nineteen he’s “gettin’ old”. The adoration he receives is only so rewarding, his relationships superficial. His ignorant friends provoke outside ethnic gangs, plunging them into brawls and Anette (Donna Pescow), a confused young woman who tags along, pressures Tony with advances in hopes of joining the ranks of her “married sisters”. His home life is no less complicated. Dinner table spats, though run-of-the-mill for the Maneros are exacerbated by Dad’s unemployment. Nevertheless, we see beneath the surface a caring, loving family. The “character” of Tony’s nearly silent grandmother is really to exemplify the multi-generational unit of the Italian-American family.

Enter Tony’s brother, Frank Jr.(Martin Shakar), the priest who “ain’t a priest no more”. His decision to leave the church causes a rift within their household and makes Tony reexamine his own choices. Tony’s brother often comes off as a surreal paradox. Though repeatedly spoken of, he curiously is never seen with any family members other than Tony. Were it not for his character being discussed in other scenes, he would seem a figment of Tony’s imagination. It’s even tempting to think of him as a component of Tony’s inner psyche. The name ‘Father Frank Junior’ itself, a contradiction in terms, he is essentially a cautionary figure for Tony to observe. He warns his brother not to act out someone else’s dream but to do what feels best for himself.

Tony’s world feels very wrong to say the least. His friends are treading down a path of drugs and recklessness. Misogyny and racism are ingrained in their sub-culture (Tellingly, network and basic cable presentations of the film censor its racial slurs until the pivotal diatribe where Tony denounces the group’s bigoted ways. To the censors, these slurs are deplorable and unnecessary unless used sympathetically). Looking for a way out, Tony searches new paths. He stares oddly at the Verrazano Bridge to “get ideas”.

One idea he soon gets is to try his hand at the club’s dance competition with the slightly stuck-up Stephanie (Karen Lynn Gorney), a fellow Brooklynite who shares a slowly developing sexual tension with Tony. They meet for lunch and she belittles him, condescendingly boasting about big dreams and famous people she has met. His ostensible unfamiliarity with the names she rattles off is belied by the numerous pop culture images adorning his wall at home. Appropriately, one of them is of Rocky.

Released in 1976, Rocky made a household name of Sylvester Stallone who portrayed Rocky Balboa, a Philadelphia underdog willing to subject himself to anything for a once-in-a-lifetime shot at the world heavyweight championship title.

A Stallone motif arguably surfaces throughout Tony Manero’s life, even if that name could have stumped him too. Compare Fever with Rocky and interesting parallels are obviated. Both center on characters who “take a shot”, using God-given gifts to attain something better in life than the perfunctory humdrum they face. Tony and Rocky both excel at their craft yet are still perceived as local losers and each go out of their way to win the heart of a woman who seems their virtual opposite. Both men sadly realize they have settled in with negative people who keep them subjugated and bury their dreams. And… oh yeah, did I mention their names almost rhyme?

Most significantly, in Rocky, the title hero advises a young girl on the dangers of allowing boys to mistreat and disrespect her. In vain, he explains how it will only leave her used, hurt and alone. In Fever, Tony takes on this similar role of the sage, educating Anette on how there are only “two kinds of girls-nice girls and pigs!” He elaborates on how she cannot be both and must decide early on in life which to be. From what annals of wisdom this philosophy is taken we simply do not know, but it is certainly likely that he ‘gets ideas’ from more than a bridge.

In the end, it would seem, the story resumed with a closing credit sequence as the Bee Gees crooned “How Deep is Your Love”. Who could have guessed then that the connection would be driven home when Stallone himself would write, direct and produce Fever’s sequel, Staying Alive. Tony’s rollercoaster life is further chronicled a few years later, still ‘taking a shot’, this time on Broadway. And… speaking of Broadway, guess where Rocky is slugging it out right now?

See a pattern?