Cinema Retro has received the following press release:
FOR
U.S. TROOPS AROUND THE WORLD, THERE WAS NO ONE LIKE HOPE FOR THE HOLIDAYS…
THIS
MAY, JOIN TIME LIFE AND THE GREATEST ENTERTAINER OF THE 20TH CENTURY FOR A TIMELESS,
STAR-SPANGLED COLLECTION OF HIS TOP-RATED HOLIDAY TV SPECIALS
BOB HOPE SALUTES THE TROOPS
DVD
SRP: $29.95
This Commemorative 3-Disc
Set, Available EXCLUSIVELY at WALMART, Collects Some of Hope’s Historic
TV Specials Across Five Decades, Patriotically Packed with Memories, Laughs and
Stars, and Filmed on Location at Military Bases from Vietnam to Saudi Arabia
PROGRAM
SYNOPSIS
Bob Hope, the
greatest entertainer of the 20th century, spent nearly half of his 100
Christmases heading up USO shows as a globetrotting Santa Claus with a golf
club, a sackful of jokes, and an airplane filled with stars. Armed with a lifelong dedication to America’s
troops and a star-studded crew of performers, he performed on battleships and
battlefields, sometimes accompanied by the sound of fighter jets overhead. The missions were often dangerous, and their schedule
brutal, yet for thousands of servicemen and women far from home there
was no one like Hope for the
holidays.
Bob Hope’s
legendaryNBC-TV comedy and
Christmas specials – some of the most-watched programs in television history --
spanned five decades, from President Truman to Clinton. And, this May, BOB HOPE SALUTES THE TROOPS, a timeless 3-disc set from Time Life®,
collects some of the legendary performer’s greatest and most patriotic holiday
specials, including seven classic shows from the ‘60s to the ‘90s,
re-mastered from original broadcast elements for optimal viewing:
Bob Hope’s Christmas Cheer
in Saudi Arabia (Original Airdate: 1/12/91) -- During
Operation Desert Shield, Hope brought his USO Christmas show to U.S. troops
stationed in Saudi Arabia. Performances
include Marie Osmond serenading a serviceman, Hope and Ann Jillian doing a duet
and the Pointer Sisters performing “I’m So Excitedâ€; other highlights include a
comic exchange between Hope and actress Khrystyne Haje (“Head of the Classâ€).
The Bob Hope Christmas
Special: Around the World with the USO (Original Airdate: 1/16/69) -- Hope
brought his USO Christmas tour to Vietnam, Korea, Japan, Thailand, Midway, and
aboard the USS Hancock and the USS New Jersey in the South China Sea. Bob Hope and former professional football
player Rosey Grier trade barbs, the
Golddiggers dance on deck for the crews of two passingdestroyers
and Dick Albers performs his comic trampoline act. At Okinawa, a skydiver parachutes into the
audience and Ann-Margret exhorts members of the different services to stand up
during her performance. Hope does mail
call for the troops, inviting one service member (whose mother says he’s a good
singer) to perform and Gen. Creighton Abrams thanks the entire cast and crew
for coming to Vietnam.
Bob Hope: Memories of WWII
-- Hope looks back at World War II with his wife, Dolores Hope, and
colleagues who share their recollections about the period, including the shift
from shipping audio recordings of radio shows from the U.S. to actually
traveling overseas to perform for troops stationed abroad. Frances Langford and Bob reminisce about
their first wartime tour. Footage includes historic clips of Bob, Jerry Colonna
and Frances Langford doing a radio show for the Armed Forces Network, Bob
onstage with Bing Crosby, and a celebrity road trip to sell war bonds.
The Bob Hope Christmas
Special (Original Airdate: 1/15/65) -- Hope and company embarked on
a 1964 Christmas tour to entertain troops stationed in Guam, Okinawa, the
Philippines, Korea, Thailand, and Vietnam. Along the way, the troupe went from the freezing cold of Korea to the
tropical heat of Thailand and in Vietnam experienced danger when the hotel
across the street from theirs is bombed. Jill St. John demonstrates the latest dance moves with service members,
and Anita Bryant, on her fifth USO tour, serenades two soldiers guarding the
stage.
The Bob Hope Christmas Show
(1/16/63) -- From more than a dozen military
bases in the Pacific, Bob Hope and his entourage performed the 1962 Christmas
tour in Japan, Korea, Guam, the Philippines, Okinawa, Formosa, and aboard the
USS Kitty Hawk. Among the highlights:
Lana Turner and Bob Hope do the bossa nova and there’s more comedy when Bob
brings Miss USA Amedee Chabot onstage. The
show closes with Anita Bryant leading everyone in Silent Night.
The Bob Hope Christmas
Special: Around the Globe with the U.S.O. (Original Airdate: 1/17/72) – In 1972, Hope brought his USO
Christmas tour to Hawaii, where Don Ho and His Wahinis perform Tiny Bubbles. Then, the company head to Wake Island and
Okinawa and on to Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, Spain, and Cuba. Along the way Bob delivers his topical
stand-up, and jests with Jill St. John, pitcher Vida Blue, and astronaut Alan
Shepard.
The Bob Hope Christmas
Special (Original Airdate: 1/17/73) -- Hope made his 22nd Christmas
tour of U.S. military bases to entertain troops, starting with a send-off from
Santa Claus (actor and pro football player Merlin Olsen) as the group departs
for the Aleutians, Japan, Korea, Thailand, Vietnam, Diego Garcia, the
Philippines, Guam, Wake Island, and the USS Midway. Highlights include Bob
doing his custom-tailored monologues (with departing fighter jets drowning out
his act in Thailand), a “fatigue version of Sanford and Son†with Redd Foxx,
and Rudy Cardenas’ show-stopping juggling. Bob brings a star-struck service member onstage to sing to Miss World
Belinda Green, dances and sings with Lola Falana, and jokes with L.A. Rams
quarterback Roman Gabriel.
Although
the picture takes place a couple of months after the end of World War II in the
year 1945, Bad Day at Black Rock is
really a western. The setting is a desert town that’s barely a whistle stop for
a train that hasn’t halted there in four years; the main street looks as if
it’s right out of Dodge City, and the
opening credits are designed in big, colorful, bold words that spread across
the wide CinemaScope screen. Even director John Sturges is primarily known for
his many westerns.
Good
Guy Spencer Tracy rides into town—on that train—and is met with inexplicable
hostility from everyone he meets. All he wants is to find a guy named Komoko—a
Japanese farmer who supposedly lives just out of town. Most of the residents
seem afraid to help Tracy. The ones who aren’t scared are bullies who attempt
to intimidate Tracy into leaving town. It doesn’t take long for Tracy to figure
out that Black Rock is run by Bad Guy Robert Ryan. Even the alcoholic sheriff
(Dean Jagger) is in Ryan’s pocket, as well as the young female mechanic (Anne
Francis), the telegraph operator (Russell Collins), and the hotel clerk (John
Ericson). Ryan has a couple of bruisers (Ernest Borgnine and Lee Marvin) who do
most of the threatening. The only civilian seemingly willing to extend an ounce
of courtesy to the stranger is the undertaker (Walter Brennan).
So
why is Tracy so unwelcome? Why is Black Rock so paranoid? What secret in its
past are the citizens obviously protecting? Tracy—not one to back down
easily—decides to try and get the answers before the gang puts him in the
ground.
These
are classic western trappings. It’s High
Noon, only Tracy has come to town
to find everyone against him, rather than the other way around. Ryan is the
archetypal greedy, mean cattle baron, and Marvin is his six-shooter-slinging
henchman. The only difference is that everyone in Black Rock gets around in a car
instead of on a horse.
As
film historian Dana Polan states in the accompanying audio commentary, Bad Day is a B-movie disguised as a
prestige picture. The studio is MGM. The CinemaScope/color photography is
impressive. The star is Spencer Tracy, adding “respectability†to the film.
And, in the end, it’s a “problem picture,†in that the movie is about racism. All
that spells “importance.â€
None
of that really matters, for Bad Day at
Black Rock is simply solid entertainment. It is suspenseful, full of
tension, has action—a car chase, hand-to-hand combat, a shootout—and admirable
performances. Tracy was nominated for an Oscar Best Actor. Sturges was
nominated for Director, and the adapted screenplay by Don McGuire and Millard
Kaufman received a nod.
The
Warner Archive Collection release presents a 1080p High Definition transfer
with DTS-HD Master Audio.
Supplements
include the aforementioned commentary and the theatrical trailer.
It’s
a few-frills package, but Bad Day at
Black Rock is a no-frills thriller that packs a raw and gritty punch.
Recommended.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM THE CINEMA RETRO MOVIE STORE
It goes without saying that Kirk Douglas is a
Hollywood icon. From his first role as Walter O’Neill in “The Strange Love of
Martha Ivers,†(1946) to “Spartacus†(1960) and beyond that until his last, so
far, appearance in a made for TV movie, he remains—even in retirement after a
stroke and a helicopter crash— one of those larger than life movie stars, the
kind they just don’t make any more. He
had a look and a style. Those shiny white teeth could as easily smile
charmingly at you or snarl like a barracuda. His bright blue eyes could be full
of tenderness one minute, as in his love scenes in “Spartacus,†or fierce and
mean as in “Gunfight at the OK Corral.†He played complex characters that were always
a mix of good and bad, but never evil.
Such a character is Johnny Hawks, the
frontier scout he plays in “The Indian Fighter†(1955), made in the middle part
of Douglas’ career. He had moved up from tough guy film noir roles by then and
this was the first film made by his own production company, Bryna Productions. The
film was made on location in Oregon by Hungarian-born director Andre de Toth, who
wore an eye patch, had seven wives and 19 children (talk about the kind of man
they don’t make anymore!). It tells the story of Hawks, who is brought in by
the Army to lead a wagon train of settlers through Sioux Indian territory. Rather
than the peerless good guy who has no flaws, Johnny has one major hang-up. He
is easily distracted. When, in the opening scene he spies Onahti (Elsa
Martinelli) the beautiful daughter of Chief Red Cloud (Arthur Franz), bathing
in a river sans clothes, he can hardly keep his mind on his job. His ogling is
interrupted by Sioux brave Grey Wolf (Harry Landers) who says, if he lays one
more eyeball on the fair Indian lass, he’ll set him up for a quick scalp
treatment. Nevertheless, Johnny during negotiating safe passage for the wagon
train and trying to establish peace terms between the tribe and the soldiers at
Fort Benham, manages to make a few passes at Onahti, who resists at first, but
soon surrenders to Johnny’s virile charms.
Plot complications come in the form of two
shifty ne’er-do-wells, Lon Chaney and Walter Matthau, who spend most of their
time getting the Indians drunk enough to tell where they can find the gold said
to be located on Sioux land. When Johnny abandons the wagon train for a night
to have a little dalliance with Onahti, all hell breaks loose. Several braves
are killed by the gold hunters and the tribe goes on the warpath. The wagon
train narrowly makes it back to the fort, and everybody wonders, where the heck
is Johnny Hawks ? Johnny wakes up that morning under a tree lying next to the
Indian chief’s daughter. He had a great night, but, boy, is he in trouble.
The film climaxes with the Indians besieging
the fort in a scene that resembles something out of “The Vikings†(1958), one
of Douglas’s later films, The Sioux set the fort on fire by lobbing balls of
flame at it from long poles cut from saplings. I don’t know if that has any
historical authenticity, but in his commentary, provided on a separate audio
track, Western film historian Toby Roan, makes note of the scene’s uniqueness,
and gives credit to the filmmakers for at least coming up with a different
approach to the old Indians-attacking-the fort scene.
Incidentally, Roan is the proprietor of a
highly-recommended blog on western films,https://fiftieswesterns.wordpress.com/, where you will find
all kinds of interesting info on older westerns. I had seen “The Indian Fighterâ€
before, but I wasn’t aware, until Roan pointed out that beloved character actor
Hank Worden ("Old Mose" in “The Searchersâ€) actually plays two parts in this
movie. He’s a jail house guard, and also Crazy Bear, one of the Indians that
Chaney and Matthau ply with liquor, trying to find out where the gold is. Roan
provides a ton of other insights into the making of the film. He knows which
construction company built the full-sized Fort Benham out there in the Oregon
wilderness and even what kind of lumber was used.
Kino Lorber presents “The Indian Fighter†in
a 1080p transfer on Blu-ray in Cinemascope with an aspect ratio of 2.35:1.
Colors are bright and clear, and Wilfred M. Kline’s cinematography of the
Oregon forests and the snow-covered Cascade Mountains in the distance are a
treat for the eye. It was de Toth’s first Cinemascope film, and he used the
wide-angle lens in several scenes to do a full 360 degree pan of the beautiful
vistas surrounding the actors. The inestimable Franz Waxman contributed a very
colorful score for the film, and it’s too bad this release is not in stereo.
“The Indian Fighter†is an entertaining
movie, but it’s not without problems. De Toth’s direction seems to be focused
more on the scenery than the bloody frontier action taking place, resulting in
an overall lack of intensity. Douglas, however, and his supporting cast acquit
themselves well. Douglas displays a lot of physicality, doing quite a bit of
stunt work himself. In fact Roan points out that doing a horse fall, he ended
up with a broken nose.
It’s also definitely a film of its time. It’s
not likely that you could make a film today entitled “The Indian Fighter†unless
it was about a boxer in Bombay. And Johnny Hawks’ forceful seduction of Onahti
in the river bed might be protested by feminists today as nothing more than a
glorified rape. However, the movie gets points for a sympathetic portrayal of
the Sioux (even though there are no native Americans in the cast), whose Chief
Red Cloud tells Johnny his concern about the white men coming into the
territory is not the loss of the gold they are after, but the pollution of the
air and water they will bring. Nice environmental touch. “The Indian Fighter†is a mixed bag, good but
not without its flaws, just like Johnny Hawks.
Fifteen years after co-producing and directing the British Victorian-era war classic Zulu, Cy Endfield brought an epic prequel to the story to the screen with Zulu Dawn. Unlike the original film, however, this 1979 release suffered from a bungled and scatter shot North American release that ensured that very few Yanks or Canadians ever had the opportunity to see the film in theaters. Botched release notwithstanding, the movie is in many ways as good as its predecessor, even if the screenplay falls short on presenting the main characters in a fully developed way. The story pertains to the greatest British military defeat of its era as the Victorian penchant for colonialism extended into South Africa. Initially the indigenous Zulu tribes had a cordial relationship with the British, but a foolish change in political strategy saw increasing incursions onto Zulu territory. The Zulu king went to great lengths to avoid confrontation until it became obvious that the local British officials were intent on taking their land by military force. The British expeditionary force led by Lord Chelmsford (Peter O'Toole) is well-armed with the latest weaponry and feels completely confident about a quick victory over the tribesmen, who are largely relegated to using primitive weapons. Like his American contemporary, General Custer, Chelmsford is an egotist with an overblown sense of self-confidence. He makes Custer's mistake of dividing his army into smaller units, spaced far apart. When the Zulu warriors mount a massive, surprise attack in what became known as the Battle of Isandlwana, the British are quickly overwhelmed. Like the original film, Zulu Dawn treats the native tribesmen with full respect and the script is clearly sympathetic to their cause. The British soldiers are depicted as courageous and gallant, but their superiors are generally seen as pompous snobs. A notable exception is the true life character of Col. Dumford (Burt Lancaster), a maverick Irishman who leads a contingent of African troops fighting with the British. Dumford tries to convince Chelmsford that his military strategies are flawed but his pleas fall on deaf ears. By the time Chelmsford and his reinforcements arrive at the battlefield, they find a seemingly endless plain of thousands of dead bodies, as only a handful of British troops managed to escape.
Zulu Dawn is a genuine epic with first rate production values with a sterling cast that includes such prominent actors as Simon Ward, Anna Calder-Marshall, John Mills, Denholm Elliott, Nigel Davenport and Bob Hoskins. The latter half of the film is devoted entirely to the battle sequences and they are stunningly staged and photographed, with Elmer Bernstein providing the stirring score. The movie is very well directed by Douglas Hickox, who is primarily remembered for Theatre of Blood and John Wayne's Brannigan. However, one must acknowledge that on a film of this scale, much of the credit must go to the second unit team as well.
Original British quad poster
Severin Films, which recently released a terrific special edition of another great '70s British war flick The Wild Geese (click here for review), has presented Zulu Dawn as a special edition Blu-ray/DVD dual package. The quality is outstanding on the Blu-ray but I'm always even more impressed by Severin's bonus extras. In this case, they include a fascinating history of the Zulu conflicts with scholar and author Ian Knight, who talks seemingly endlessly about every facet of the battle. The word "endlessly" here is meant as a compliment. Although I consider myself a military history buff, Knight's segment is like attending a master class and I realized how little I actually knew of the events depicted in the film. Knight explains that, although the Zulus won the battle, they suffered tremendous losses in the process and their victory was short-lived, as Lord Chelmsford ultimately sent their king into exile. The Severin crew also flew Knight to the actual battle locations in South Africa and it's truly amazing to see how untouched they remain to this day. (Crudely constructed above--ground grave sites for the soldiers still dot the battlefield.) There are also raw footage outtakes and some deleted scenes including several variations of Bob Hoskin's character's death. Another interesting segment features an extensive interview with historical and military consultant to the film, Midge Carter. Carter was an unemployed Brit with an in-depth knowledge of the film who just phoned the production company and ended up getting hired to ensure accuracy. Carter makes for an engaging interview, telling interesting tales about how he prevented historical inaccuracies from being included in the film. He also trashes director Hickox as a snobby elitist with a less-than-impressive work ethic. He also shares his scrapbook of on-set photos which had been autographed by every member of the cast. Severin interviews are always excellent to watch, thanks to producer David Gregory and Carl Daft's determination to let them go on as long as necessary and not worry about the length of the pieces. I only wish this was the case with some of the documentaries I produced for major studios, where there was always a bizarre determination to trim everything to the bone. Severin also doesn't indulge in gimmicky special effects or camera work. They simply turn on the camera and let the subject talk. Not fancy in terms of technique, but a wonderful throwback to how interviews used to be presented. Finally, there is an original theatrical trailer included in the set.
Chances are you haven't seen Zulu Dawn. You're in for a real treat with this superb presentation of an excellent film.
The little-seen 1983 thriller Double Exposure has been released on Blu-ray by Vinegar Syndrome as a special edition. The film has an interesting background. It was originally filmed in 1971 under the title of The Photographer by director William Byron Hillman with Michael Callan cast as a photographer of beautiful women who also turns out to be a serial murderer. Hillman and Callan were frustrated that the movie received only a limited release. Twelve years later, they collaborated on a remake of the movie using the title Double Exposure. This time around, Callan served as an uncredited screenwriter on Hillman's new script and he also produced the movie, as well. Major script changes included having the main character, Adrian Wilde (Callan), not certain if he actually is a murderer. He's a generally kind and decent man who eeks out a modest living photographing models. He resides in a mobile home in L.A. which serves as his business office and bachelor pad. He is haunted by recurring nightmares of him committing horrendous murders of some of the women he photographs. When they actually start turning up dead, he is convinced he must be the culprit. He seeks guidance from his shrink (Seymour Cassel) and warns his new girlfriend, sexy Mindy (Joanna Pettet) that he has doubts about his sanity. He also seeks comfort from his brother B.J. (James Stacy) , a rather belligerent, bitter man who nevertheless has not allowed the loss of an arm and a leg prevent him from making a career of stunt driving. He also proves to be quite a lady's man and in one memorable sequence mud wrestles a bikini-clad girl in a bar. As the body count builds, Adrian slides further into madness.
The film is definitely of "B" movie caliber, but it's generally engrossing and well-made. Callan delivers a very fine performance in the lead role and he is more than matched by Stacy. Pettet does well as the female lead, and exposes a lot of flesh in a fairly graphic bedroom scene. There are other familiar faces who pop in and out of the film including Pamela Hensley as a detective assigned to track down the killer, Cleavon Little (largely wasted) as her perpetually grouchy superior officer and Robert Tessier as a skid row bar manager. Sally Kirkland and future Saturday Night Live star Victoria Jackson also have early career roles. Hillman directs efficiently, though the ending veers into cliched "woman in jeopardy" territory and the final few frames of the movie, in which the killer is unveiled, boasts some fine acting but disintegrates into a confusing and frustrating scenario in the last hectic seconds. Nevertheless, Double Exposure is a good thriller, well-made on a modest budget.
The Blu-ray/DVD combo has several impressive bonus features that vary from the previously issued DVD 2013 edition from Scorpion. They include:
New transfer from the original camera negative
Commentary track with director William Byron Hillman
The blending of two disparate but popular film genres –
in this case, the horror/sci-fi film with the saddle opera - was hardly new
when The Valley of Gwangi hit the big
screen in 1969. This film’s most identifiable
predecessor, one pitting cowboys against a prehistoric monster, might be The Beast of Hollow Mountain (1956), but
truth be told Hollywood had been combining these two genres almost from the very
beginning. In the 1930s and ‘40s,
audiences thrilled to the ghostly monochrome exploits of such western serial heroes
as Ken Maynard, Buffalo Bill Cody, and Buster Crabbe with such films as Tombstone Canyon (1932), The Vanishing Riders (1935), and Wild Horse Phantom (1944). Universal’s Curse of the Undead (1959) was a later but no less interesting experiment
for Hollywood’s preeminent fright factory. The studio removed the vampire from the usual atmospheric Gothic
trappings of old Europe and dropped him onto the sagebrush plain.
On the far loopier end of the spectrum, the notorious director
William “One Shot†Beaudine, provided us with the ultimate in old west
weirdness with his legendary twin-bill of 1966, Billy the Kid vs. Dracula and Jesse
James vs. Frankenstein’s Daughter. 1973
brought to movie houses two of the more memorable big-screen blends: the
sci-fi/western Westworld and Clint
Eastwood’s prairie ghost saga High Plains
Drifter. This combining of westerns
and fantasy films continues, more or less, to this very day… as anyone who
caught the lavish CGI-fest Cowboys and
Aliens (2011) can attest.
Director James O’ Connolly’s The Valley of Gwangi is set mysteriously at the turn of the century
somewhere “South of the Rio Grande.†(Principal photography on The Valley of Gwangi was actually shot on
various locations throughout the deserts of Spain). The locals are enjoying a parade through a
dusty town. The parade has been staged
to promote K.J. Breckenridge’s wild and wooly Cowboys vs. Indians Wild West
Show. K.J.’s rodeo, not-politically
correct by today’s standards, is set to be held at an equally non-PC
bull-fighting arena. Contemporary
political activists needn’t grab their picket signs. The stadium is hardly filled to capacity, and
we soon learn Breckenridge’s rodeo is in dire financial straits. The show simply hasn’t been pulling in the
crowds of late, and even main attraction “Omar, the Wonder Horse,†whose equally
non-PC stage-jump from an elevated platform into a murky pool of water isn’t
enough to save this sad affair.
Suggesting the writing is on the wall, the sultry Breckenridge
(Gila Golan) is approached by smooth talking Tuck (James Franciscus), a
self-absorbed rodeo cowboy and former lover of T.J. Tuck now makes his living by booking acts for
a big entertainment consortium back east. He wants K.J. to sell off the rights to her semi-popular diving horse
act, but his ex-paramour is still bitter over their estrangement and not
interested in selling. Besides she
believes newly found prosperity is just around the corner. She agrees to show him the still-secret
attraction that she’s certain will reverse her rodeo’s downward spiral.
The budding impresario is stunned when she unveils “El
Diablo†a miniature horse that Tuck recognizes is no horse at all. It’s actually an Eohippus, a fifty-million year old ancestor of the equine. This was not a lucky guess, nor is the
startled ex-cowboy an expert on prehistoric beasts. Ten minutes earlier in the film Tuck had
gleaned this morsel of knowledge after stumbling upon a scotch drinking
Paleontologist camped in the scrub brush desert in search of fossils. Tuck responsibly alerts the amazed scientist (Laurence
Naismith) about the Eohippus (“The
greatest scientific discovery of the age!â€) and together they learn the Eohippus was captured on the frontier outskirts
of the grimly named “Forbidden Valley.â€
The
late Sergio Corbucci (1926-1990) had a long, prolific career in the Italian
film industry as a screenwriter and director, but little exposure in U.S. theaters
by comparison with his total output.IMDB credits him with sixty-three titles as director.By my count, eleven arrived on Stateside
screens, none of them earning Corbucci any real notice at the time.All were genre films -- first sword-and-sandal
movies, then Westerns -- before it was cool for critics to treat such products
seriously, especially dubbed imports.Three toga-and beefcake pictures -- “Goliath and the Vampires†(1961),
“Duel of the Titans†(1961), and “The Slave†(1962) -- were released on
drive-in and double-feature bills in the Hercules era.“Minnesota Clay†(1964) had a 1966 run
disguised as an American B-Western.“Navajo Joe†(1966) passed through theaters in 1967, earning a typically
dismissive review from Bosley Crowther in the New York Times (“results aren’t
worth a Mexican pesoâ€).You had to use a
magnifying glass to see Corbucci’s name on the movie poster.In his 1994 autobiography, Burt Reynolds said
he only took the offer to star in the picture because he thought the director
would be the other Sergio . . . Leone.“The Hellbenders†(1967) came and went, also camouflaged as an American
production and promoting Joseph Cotten’s starring role.Cotten was a fine actor but hardly big
box-office in ’67.
“The
Mercenary†(1968) enjoyed a higher profile in a 1970 release, but “Alberto
Grimaldi Presents . . .†dominated the credits, including the cover blurb on a
paperback novelization that touted the movie as “the bloodiest ‘Italian’
Western of them all . . . by the producer of ‘The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.’
†“Companeros†(1970) didn’t open in the
U.S. until 1972, and then only with limited distribution. “Sonny and Jed†(1972) followed in 1974. Neither made much of an impression as the
Spaghetti cycle waned here. “Shoot
First, Ask Questions Later†(1975), a sad attempt at comedy in the Spaghetti
twilight, loped through rural drive-ins. “Super Fuzz†(1980; U.S. distribution, 1982) was a Terence Hill police
comedy that the Times’ Herbert Mitgang said had “one funny gag a few minutes
before the end.†At least Mitgang noted
Corbucci and Hill by name as “longtime makers of spaghetti westerns.â€
If
you were nostalgic for Italian Westerns in the late ‘70s and ‘80s, after the
cycle had come and gone in the States, you could read about Corbucci in
Laurence Staig and Tony Williams’ “Italian Western: The Opera of Violenceâ€
(1975) and Christopher Frayling’s “Spaghetti Westerns: Cowboys and Europeans
from Karl May to Sergio Leone†(1981). There you would learn that one of Corbucci’s Westerns that never made it
to the States, “Django†(1966), was as wildly popular and influential overseas
as Sergio Leone’s movies. But good luck
in ever seeing it or Corbucci’s other Westerns, unless you might catch “The
Hellbenders†in a pan-and-scan, commercial-infested print on local TV.
Thanks
to the advent of home video, cable, and streaming internet -- and in
particular, DVD and Blu-ray in which his films can be seen in the proper aspect
ratio and definition -- both the committed and the curious now have access to
virtually all of Corbucci’s thirteen Westerns, even the obscure “Grand Canyon
Massacre†(1964), his first powder-burner, co-directed with Albert Band. Is Quentin Tarantino justified in praising Corbucci
as “one of the great Western directors of all time� Today, you don’t have to take Tarantino’s
word for it, or not; you can judge for yourself.
By
most accounts, a Corbucci Top Five would include “Django,†The Great Silence,â€
“The Mercenary,†“Companeros,†and “The Specialist†(1969). The first four are all in relatively easy
reach in various formats and platforms. “Django,†“The Great Silence,†and “Companeros†have had domestic DVD
releases. “The Mercenary†hasn’t, but it
shows up periodically on cable channels, albeit in an edited version, and you
can find good DVD and Blu-ray editions with an English voice track through
Amazon and import dealers on the web.
“The
Specialist†remains more elusive. Written and directed by Corbucci during his peak period, originally
titled “Gli specialisti†and also known as “Specialists†and “Drop Them or I’ll
Shoot,†this Western never played in U.S. theaters, has never had an American
video release, and is hard to find even on the collectors‘ market in a print
with an English-language option. Not to
be confused with other, unrelated films of the same name, including a mediocre
1994 Sylvester Stallone crime drama and an obscure 1975 B-movie with Adam West,
it is past due for official U.S. release on DVD. Or, better yet, on hi-def Blu-ray to give Corbucci’s
compositions and Dario Di Palma’s rich Techniscope and Technicolor
cinematography their due sharpness and color on home screens.
There is an immediate appeal in the very premise of Alfred
Hitchcock’s Lifeboat (1944), a
curiosity that stems from how exactly this story will play out and how the
Master of Suspense is going to keep the narrative taut and technically
stimulating. It was a gimmick he would repeat with Rope (1948), Dial M for
Murder (1954), and Rear Window
(1954), similar films where the drama is contained to a single setting. But
here, the approach is amplified by having the entirety of its plot limited to the
eponymous lifeboat, an extremely confined location that is at once anxiously restricting
and, at the same time, placed in a vast expanse of threatening openness.
Following a German U-boat attack that sinks an allied
freighter and creates the cramped, confrontational condition, a cast of nine
diverse, necessarily distinctive characters are steadily assembled aboard the
small vessel (and their variety is indeed necessary so as to tackle singular
themes and disparities). Starting with journalist Connie Porter (Tallulah Bankhead,
in the film’s featured and much-hyped performance), the improvised squad
includes: a member of the freighter’s crew, Kovac (John Hodiak), the radioman,
Stanley (Hume Cronyn), a steward, Joe Spencer (Canada Lee), seaman, Gus Smith
(William Bendix), a U.S. Army nurse, Alice (Mary Anderson), the wealthy
industrialist, Rittenhouse (Henry Hull), the shell-shocked Mrs. Higley (Heather
Angel), an Englishwoman who arrives with her already deceased infant child,
and, adding instant and inherent tension, Willi (Walter Slezak), a survivor
from the enemy German sub.
Connie is the most incongruous personality for such an
occasion. Initially adorned in a fine mink coat, accompanied by her camera, her
cigarettes and suitcases, all of which seem miraculously dry, she sure doesn’t
look like someone who has been torpedoed, as another character is quick to
point out. She and Rittenhouse will together serve as half of the film’s
embodied class consciousness, which is one of several social divisions alluded
to as explicit points of contention or simply hinted at as latent cultural
conflicts (“Do I get to vote too?†asks the African American Joe). Though
generally cordial and cooperative to start, the spirit of critical
collaboration doesn’t last. How could it? For a film like this, there needs to
be a breeding ground for consistent opposition, beyond the predictable clash
between Willi and the rest.
What develops is multi-leveled, ever-fluctuating suspicion,
a leery and fascistic survival of the fittest that hangs in the balance as the
winds of authority and hysteria blow. With his famously elaborate set-pieces
made impossible by Lifeboat’s scenario,
Hitchcock narrows his focus to the dynamic landscape of the human face, and the
film is nothing if not a revelatory study in human nature, especially when
individuals are in strained situations. There are constant disputes about the
best path forward, often grounded in ideological motivations derived from
political, religious, or national beliefs—whatever is needed to prevail and
retain a semblance of composure in the face of an extraordinary dilemma.
In a swift 97 minutes—its riveting progression a testament
to how the tension outweighs its spatial and dramatic limitations—the
characters endure assorted trials and tribulations, just enough to keep
everyone on edge, but not too many to seem unnatural. This ranges from the
unique (Gus’ impending leg amputation), to an issue that affects just a few
(cheating at cards), to something upon which all involved are invested (the
bliss of fresh rainwater to drink and the disappointment when the passing storm
doesn’t last). There are lingering doubts about motivation, the debatable
course of progress, and turn-on-a-dime behavioral shifts. Two passengers even
find time for romance.
To express all of this, and to keep the viewer engaged when
the actions and visuals, at least in a broad sense, are relatively reduced, the
writing of Lifeboat is tremendously
vital. While Hitchcock came up with the idea for the picture, the basic story
was written by John Steinbeck (after Hitch’s first choice, Ernest Hemingway,
passed). It was Steinbeck’s first fiction film, though he had written a
documentary in 1941. What he completed, however, resembled something more like
a novella. Subsequent writing and rewriting duties went to everyone from Harry
Sylvester and MacKinlay Kantor, to Jo Swerling, Ben Hecht, Hitchcock’s wife,
Alma Reville, and others. Ultimately, only Swerling gets the screenplay credit
(Steinbeck, who was so unhappy with the deviations in the final film that he
tried to have his name removed from the picture, gets original story).
The
Vampire Bat (1933) was a staple of TV late-night movie programming
well into the 1980s. Too often the
running time of this maltreated film was irreverently trimmed or stretched to
accommodate commercial breaks or better fit into a predetermined time
slot. With black-and-white films almost
completely banished from the schedules of local television affiliates by 1987, TV Guide disrespectfully dismissed The Vampire Bat as a “Dated, slow-motion
chiller.†That’s an unfair appraisal. But with the MTV generation in the ascendant
and Fangoria gleefully splashing the lurid
and blood-red exploits of such slice-and-dice horror icons as Michael Meyers,
Jason Voorhees, and Freddy Krueger on its covers, it’s somewhat understandable why
the other-worldly atmospherics of The
Vampire Bat were perceived as little more than a celluloid curio – an
antiquated footnote in the annals of classic horror.
The
Vampire Bat is hardly original. The film was, no doubt, conceived as an
exploitative hybrid of Universal’s Dracula
and Frankenstein twinblockbusters of 1931. (Though not a Universal production, several
scenes of The Vampire Bat were
purportedly shot on that studio’s back lot). Though this Pre-Code film starts as a mostly routine
mystery sprinkled with doses of suggested vampirism, there’s also a mad doctor who
secretly labors in mad devotion to “lift the veil†separating God from man. The doctor has artificially created living,
pulsating tissue requiring human blood for sustenance. Sadly, low rent Majestic Pictures wasn’t able
to engage the services of Universal’s Kenneth Strickfadden. So the mad doctor’s bare-bones laboratory features
none of the splendid electrical gimmickry or flashing circuits that monster
kids love so well.
Though director Frank R. Strayer might not have achieved auteur status, he was no mere
craftsman. He had been involved (most
often in a directorial capacity) in well over one hundred film projects dating
back to the silent era. His greatest
notoriety was likely being the principal helmsman of the wildly popular Blondie series for Columbia in the late
1930s/early 1940s. Though no gloomy
visionary as Universal’s James Whale, Strayer could nonetheless effectively conjure
similarly eerie, ethereal atmospheres to the low-budget mystery and horror film
productions he was assigned. The
scenario and screenplay for The Vampire
Bat was scribed by Edward T. Lowe. Lowe too was a true pioneer of the Hollywood film industry. He had also worked in the silents, hanging on
long enough to contribute scripts to such popular mystery franchises of the
1940s as the Bulldog Drummond, Charlie Chan, and Sherlock Holmes series.
For a modestly-budgeted production without major studio
backing, it must be said the cast of The
Vampire Bat is exceptional. For all
intent and purposes, this is essentially an “actor’s film,†as Strayer –
curiously - offers little on-screen moments of murderous mayhem. Our hero is the affable Melvyn Douglas, a future
two-time Academy winner whose career would endure for more than a half-century. In Ninotchka
(1939), Douglas would famously sway screen siren Greta Garbo from the
schemes of such Soviet puppet masters as Bela Lugosi. Leading lady Fay Wray, who would earn her
bona fides as the big screen’s preeminent “Scream Queen†of the 1930s with a
five film run in 1932-1933 (Doctor X,
The Most Dangerous Game, The Vampire Bat, Mystery of the Wax Museum and, of course, King Kong), finds herself again the target of a mad doctor’s evil
machinations. Sadly, the comely actress
isn’t given much to do in The Vampire Bat
except have a teasing flirtation with the dashing Douglas and await her
inevitable final reel rescue from the mad fiend.
It’s been a very
long time since I last sat down to watch Caltiki - The Immortal Monster. It was
back in a time when like-minded friends would exchange and trade (decidedly dodgy)
VHS copies of obscure monster movies such as this. The term ‘dodgy’ of course
is used in retrospect; at the time they were pure gold dust, a rare opportunity
to watch something which was out of reach to mainstream admirers. You needed to
put in the leg work and research, but becoming part of that community offered
so many rich rewards.
Today, it’s a
society that has basically become redundant. There is simply little demand for
an ‘under the counter’ or private exchange community. Instead we appear to be
rather satisfied, accepting and respectful of the efforts provided by the
speciality labels. To a large degree, the industry has taken over the leg work
and as a result, begun to fulfil our demands. It’s become a stable position and
something that we could only perhaps dream of during the early graduate years
of the blossoming video revolution.
Arrow’s Caltiki -
The Immortal Monster serves as a perfect example and illustrates just how far
we have come. Let’s be clear, Caltiki is a film that could perhaps be described
as a little thin. However, as a slice of enjoyable hokum it could equally be
described as quite perfect.
A team of
archaeologists led by Dr John Fielding (John Merivale, Circus of Horrors)
descends on the ruins of an ancient Mayan city to investigate the mysterious
disappearance of its inhabitants. However, the luckless explorers get more than
they bargained for when their investigation of a sacrificial pool awakens the
monster that dwells beneath its waters – the fearsome and malevolent god
Caltiki.
Caltiki was a
project that bought together two giants of Italian cult cinema – Riccardo Freda
(The Vampires, The Horrible Dr Hichcock) and Mario Bava (5 Dolls for an August
Moon, Blood and Black Lace). In consideration of the film’s low budget, the
filmmakers certainly made the most of what they had. The on screen results are
a testament to their combined creative talents. Caltiki is a film that works
best when not examined too closely, it needs to be enjoyed rather than
scrutinised. Yes, there are cheap mistakes and tell-tale signs, such as actors
casting shadows on the glass matte paintings, or a desire to shoot too darkly
in order to cover up the thin production values - but it hardly matters. The
production values actually balance out rather well. This film has some
incredibly gory moments that are in fact executed (by Bava) with some style.
Skulls with bulging eyeballs, half eaten human appendages are among the film’s
many impressive effects. Don’t be fooled, an early Italian film it may be, but
it’s right up there with Britain’s Hammer films in terms of vivid gore. Some
may even maintain that Caltiki’s gore factor exceeded that of any Hammer
production made during the same period, and they may just have an argument. Viewing
Caltiki today, one can only wonder how it would have looked - had the budget stretched
to the luxury of colour film stock… Caltiki also bears an uncanny resemblance
to Hammer’s The Quatermass Experiment (1955). Bava would later express that he
was in fact influenced by the story. Not that it matters a great deal, it was
the era of creeping slime and Bava wasn’t alone, with Hammer following their
own trend with X The Unknown (1956) and Hollywood close behind that with The
Blob (1958).
Arrow’s Brand new
2K restoration of the film has been produced from the original camera negative
and looks very impressive. The picture perhaps lacks a little in terms of fine
detail which is more likely down to poorer grade film stock – remember this was
a low budget production. There are good deep black tones and the general
picture appears far smoother and nicely balanced in regards to overall
contrast. It couldn’t be further from the grainy old prints that were once
circulated. I should also point out, Arrow have used the Italian print of the
film which contains both English and Italian mono soundtracks (Lossless on the
Blu-ray disc). By picking the original Italian track, you can also access the
newly translated English subtitles.
Heading the
Caltiki bonus material are two new audio commentaries. Tim Lucas, (author of
Mario Bava: All the Colors of the Dark) provides another excellent commentary.
Interesting and articulate, Lucas proves once again to be the perfect choice
for the job. The second commentary by
Troy Howarth, (author of The Haunted World of Mario Bava and So Deadly, So
Perverse: 50 Years of Italian Giallo Films) is also a good listening
experience. There isn’t really too much different to be heard that hasn’t
already been touched upon by Lucas. There is also very little in terms of
contrasting opinions, both men clearly have a love for Bava which results in
their observations generally coming from the same perspective. (Was there a
need for a second commentary?)
The good news is that Timeless Video is releasing multiple films in one DVD package. The bad news is that one of these releases, although featuring two highly-watchable leading men, presents two stinkers. Love and Bullets is a 1979 Charles Bronson starrer that Roger Ebert appropriately described at the time as "an assemblyline potboiler". The film initially showed promise. Originally titled Love and Bullets, Charlie, the movie had John Huston as its director. However, Huston left after "creative differences" about the concept of the story and its execution on screen. The absurdity of losing a director as esteemed as Huston might have been understandable if the resulting flick wasn't such a mess. However, one suspects that, whatever the conceptual vision Huston had for the movie may have been, it must have been superior to what ultimately emerged. Stuart Rosenberg, the competent director of Cool Hand Luke took over but was unable to create anything more than a sub-par action movie. The plot finds Bronson as a Phoenix cop who is reluctantly sent to Switzerland on an undercover assignment. The local prosecutor has been doggedly trying to convict a local mob kingpin (Rod Steiger) for years. Now it appears that his moll girlfriend (Jill Ireland) might be a viable witness in terms of spilling the beans about his operations. Thus, Steiger has stashed her abroad and is keeping her under constant watch. Bronson's job is to pretend he is also a mob guy and convince Ireland to return with him to Phoenix to testify against her lover. The movie seems to exist for one reason only: the main participants desired a paid working vacation in Switzerland. This concept is nothing new. The Rat Pack squeezed in filming Oceans Eleven almost as an afterthought while they were performing nightly in Las Vegas at the Sands casino. In the twilight of his years, John Ford famously got his stock company together for a jaunt to Hawaii and released the result as a big boxoffice hit called Donovan's Reef, which still must retain the status of being the most expensive home movie ever made.
Love and Bullets is such a lazy effort you have to believe it must have taken a great deal of effort for the cast to meander to the set every day. The film also illustrates the danger of love-struck leading men force-feeding the lady in their lives into virtually every movie they make. Clint Eastwood shoe-horned Sondra Locke into a string of his films in the 1970s and 1980s and while some of them were artistic and commercial successes, I always greeted their next team with a sense of bored inevitability. (Locke is also a prime perpetrator in the creation of the worst movie of Eastwood's career, The Gauntlet.) In this case, Ireland had been Mrs. Bronson for over a decade following her divorce from David McCallum. She was always a competent enough actress but the couple obviously envisioned themselves as a new William Powell/Myrna Loy teaming. Not quite. Bronson is on full automatic pilot, registering almost no emotion. Ireland overplays the role of bubble-headed moll to an embarrassing level, as though she is a character in a sitcom sketch. She is saddled with intentionally laughable fright wigs but the real joke comes when she decides to discard them for her natural hair style, which proves to be even less flattering. Absurdity piles upon absurdity as the film becomes one long, extended chase sequence with Bronson and Ireland squabbling like Ralph and Alice Kramden, if you can imagine The Honeymooners being pursued by assassins. Steiger is in full scenery-chewing mode and an impressive array of supporting actors (Val Avery, Michael V. Gazzo, Henry Silva and Strother Martin) are pretty much wasted along the way. I'm generally undemanding when it comes to the pleasures of watching an unpretentious Charles Bronson action movie but Love and Bullets represents the latter period of his career where he rarely even tried to elevate his films beyond being vehicles for an easy pay check.
Russian Roulette (originally titled Kill Kosygin!) starts out promisingly enough but ultimately ends up being unsatisfying and misguided. Produced by Elliott Kastner, an old hand at making good, populist entertainment, the production was shot entirely in Vancouver. George Segal plays a renegade cop (were there any other kind in the 1970s?) who has been suspended from the local police force for various infractions. Suddenly, he is recruited by Canadian secret intelligence to help thwart a reputed plot to assassinate Soviet Premier Kosygin, who is due to arrive in a matter of days for a high profile conference. Segal learns that he is being set up in an elaborate and confusing plot that involves traitorous KGB agents who want to kill their own premier in order to prevent him from initiating an era of detente with the West. Their plan involves kidnapping a local dissident (Val Avery), drugging him and using him as a human bomb who will be dropped on Kosygin's limousine from a helicopter! (I'm not making this up.) Along the way, Segal finds he's being set up as a dupe and is framed for murder. The entire tired affair ends in a race against time with Segal going mano-a-mano with a KGB killer on the roof of a landmark hotel that Kosygin is en route to (the only sequence that affords the slightest hint of suspense). Absurdly, Kosygin's motorcade is permitted to continue racing to the hotel despite the fact that hundreds of people are watching a running gun battle taking place on the roof. The film was directed by Lou Lombardo, who made a name for himself as an editor of great talent after supervising the cutting of The Wild Bunch. As director, he keeps the action flowing but the plot absurdities soon distract from some otherwise interesting angles and performances. The fine supporting cast includes Gordon Jackson, Denholm Elliott, Nigel Stock and Louise Fletcher, but their characters are rather boring. The film also throws in Christina Raines for sex appeal but she comes across as the dullest leading lady in memory, barely registering much emotion even when finding a dead body in her bathroom. (Although most of us would find such a development a bit disturbing, Lombardo cuts to a scene of Segal and Raines enjoying a spot of breakfast tea- while the man's body remains on the bathroom floor.) Segal is always enjoyable to watch and his wiseguy persona is in full bloom here, but the production is amateurish on all levels considering the talent involved. Maybe, as with Love and Bullets, everyone involved just wanted a paid getaway and had a desire to visit Vancouver. (It should be mentioned that director Lombardo was said to be battling drinking problems during production and that the finale of the film - the only truly effective scene- was directed by Anthony Squire, who did not receive screen credit.)
Both transfers are adequate though not overly impressive. Love and Bullets was shot in widescreen but is presented here in full screen ratio. Russian Roulette is presented in letterboxed format. There are no extras.
Back in December 2014
Cinema Retro posted my review of the Columbia Classics’ DVD of “Edge of
Eternity,†(1959) one of director Don Siegel’s early, lesser known films. I gave it high marks—especially for its
location photography in and around the Grand Canyon, and a climax that ended in
a fight on a gondola car suspended 2,500 feet above the canyon floor. I thought
it was one of those little-known hidden gems you come across once in a while—a
movie worth seeing. The video quality of the Columbia DVD wasn’t bad either.
But now the folks at Twilight Time have come out with a limited edition (3,000
copies) Blu-ray of the film that literally blows the older version away.
As noted in my
original review, “Edge of Eternity†was one of two films Siegel made in 1959
that clearly showed he had already begun to master the art of shooting on
location—an art he perfected by the time he made “Dirty Harry†(1971). The
other movie was “The Lineup†, for which Siegel and screenwriter Stirling
Silliphant concocted a brilliant tale with off-beat characters and off-the-wall
dialog, that also gave moviegoers a black and white documentary-like tour of
San Francisco, most of which is no longer there. In “Edge of Eternity,†Siegel
had a less compelling script to work with, but the breathtaking aerial photography
shot in widescreen Cinemascope and Eastman color by the legendary Burnett
Guffey more than made up for it.
The story focuses on
Deputy Sheriff Les Martin’s (Cornell Wilde) efforts to solve a series of
murders that take place in the canyon and the former boom town of Kendon,
Ariz., a place where a fortune in gold lies in an abandoned mine. The mine was
shut down during World War II, due to lack of manpower. It won’t be reopened
until the price of gold rises from $35 an ounce. As weird as it sounds, at the
time the story takes place, the biggest industry in Kendon was the mining of
bat guano from a cave on the far side of the canyon. The cave contained 500,000
tons of the stuff, which was sold as fertilizer. This is all based on
historical fact. The U.S. Bat Guano Company actually operated there until the
late 1950s, and Siegel took advantage of everything the location had to offer,
including “the dancing bucket,†a cable car the company had built, stretching 5,000
feet across the maw of the canyon—the only way to get to the bat cave. The end
credits express the film makers’ gratitude to U.S. Bat Guano for its
cooperation—perhaps the first and only time the movie industry acknowledged how
much it owes to shit, bat or otherwise.
The love interest in
“Edge of Eternity†is Janice Kendon (Victoria Shaw), the daughter of a wealthy
mine owner. Her flaming red hair and the canary yellow 1958 Thunderbird she
drives stand out vividly against the dry desert background, as she flirts with
Deputy Marin and wistfully remembers the days when Kendal was a boom town. She
has a younger brother (Rian Garrick) who drinks and gets in trouble with the
cops all the time. Also on hand is Mickey Shaughnessy playing a garrulous
bartender who dreams of someday leaving Kendon and taking off for Las Vegas.
A second murder
occurs and Deputy Martin starts to feel the heat from his boss (Edgar Buchanan)
and some political enemies in the state capital who want to know why the bodies
are starting to pile up. Martin is vulnerable to attack when it’s revealed he
had some trouble on his last job. When a third corpse turns up Martin stands to
lose his job. Who’s committing the murders and what do they have to do with the
$20 million in gold we’re told lies under the town?
Those are the main
plot questions, but really, who cares? The story isn’t what matters in “Edge of
Eternity.†It’s the real-time, real-place feeling that Siegel manages to put on
film that makes this little-known movie worth watching. Seeing Wilde and
Victoria Shaw playing their parts with the Grand Canyon in the background, you
hardly pay attention to the dialog anyway. All you know is there’s a murder to
be solved, some backstory guilt to be healed by Wilde, and a love story to be
brought to a happy conclusion. Naturally, Siegel pulls it off with his usual
workman-like skill.
The Twilight Time 1080p
Blu-ray in 2.35:1 aspect ratio makes the Grand Canyon cinematography come alive,
with far more detail than the older DVD. This new release also comes with some
nice extras, including an informative audio commentary by film historians Nick
Redman and C. Courtney Joyner. They provide insights into how this film came to
be made and how Siegel and Guffey shot the climactic scene with the dancing
bucket using two helicopters and a fearless stunt man named Guy Way. It makes
the onscreen action seem even more dangerous. Redman also points out how the
sense of a real place with real people is something totally missing from
today’s films, partly due to the heavy use of CGI.
According to Joyner, “Edge
of Eternity†was originally written as a vehicle for veteran character actor
Jack Elam. The writers thought it was time Elam got his first starring role in
a film. Unfortunately nobody else saw it that way. Siegel, who was a friend of
Elam’s, saw the script sitting on a coffee table in Elam’s house and thought it
would make a pretty good movie. They ended up picking Cornell Wilde for the
part and Elam played a smaller role as the man who operates the bucket. As
Joyner points out, he may not have gotten his big breakthrough, but it’s one of
the few times he didn’t play a bad guy.
The Blu-ray also has
an isolated audio track for Daniele Amfitheatrof’s impressive score and a
booklet containing an essay by Julie Kirgo, which discusses further details of
the film’s location and crew. She also points out how “Edge of Eternity†shows
Siegel “beginning to explore the territory he would dominate in later years:
the life of a decent cop attempting to juggle his crazy mixed-up personal life
with a professional, criminal crisis.â€
This Twilight Time
disc is a must-have for any Don Siegel fan, or for anyone who wants to see how “realâ€
thrillers used to be made.
