BY ERNIE MAGNOTTA

The world of horror films lost two of its most important and influential figures recently with the passing of filmmaking geniuses George Romero and Tobe Hooper. Although the careers of these two great artists can fill (and have filled) entire books, I’d like to briefly mention their most important works and pay my respects to them both.

When I was around ten or eleven-years-old, I had snuck out of bed late one night to watch some old movie on TV; a Tarzan flick I think it was. In order to avoid waking my parents, I had to keep the volume on the television set very low, but sit close to the set so that I could hear. As I sat alone in my parents’ dark living room waiting patiently for the commercials to end, a bunch of zombies appeared on the screen and quickly lurched forward with their arms outstretched! I jumped back while simultaneously screaming which, of course, woke my mom. Needless to say, I never got to finish the Tarzan movie, but I made up for it by having my first taste of the cinema of writer/director (and sometimes editor and actor) George A. Romero; even if it was only a TV spot for his 1979 zombie masterpiece Dawn of the Dead.

Romero’s feature film debut, 1968’s immortal Night of the Living Dead, which was made independently for the paltry sum of $114, 000, not only began his immensely popular zombie series (six films which lasted until 2009), but also singlehandedly created the entire zombie mythology which is still being used today. As a matter of fact, anyone who has made a zombie film after 1968 not only owes a debt to Romero, but a royalty check as well. Night, which deals with the dead returning to life as flesh-eating ghouls and surrounding an old farmhouse filled with seven frightened and bickering humans who cannot get along, was filmed in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania (where Romero lived for much of his adult life) and combines scares/graphic violence with social commentary; a formula the master filmmaker would return to many times. The creepy, atmospheric and nihilistic film reflects the turbulent time in which it was made and its graphic tone was mainly inspired by the Vietnam War.

If I had to pick one film in the Romero canon that I feel is an underrated masterwork, it would have to be his amazing, 1976, modern-day vampire film Martin. This enthralling piece of cinema, which Romero himself has said to be his favorite of all the films he’s directed, concerns a shy and confused young man (excellently portrayed by John Amplas) who may or may not be a vampire. Romero leaves this up to the audience to decide. The master filmmaker also touches upon subjects such as religious beliefs (both too strict and too casual), mental illness (perhaps caused by a strict, religious upbringing), the healing/saving power of love and understanding, disbelief in things that have yet to be proven, and how such disbelief can allow someone/something dangerous to move about freely in the world, just to name a few.

Although he is known for a plethora of thoughtful and entertaining films (The Crazies (1973), Creepshow, Knightriders, Two Evil Eyes, The Dark Half, Bruiser, etc.), many of which he made alongside special makeup effects master and longtime friend Tom Savini, the pioneering Romero will forever be remembered for his series of scary, gore-filled and thought-provoking zombie films.

If the word zombie has become synonymous with George Romero, then there’s only one phrase that springs to mind whenever someone mentions writer/director Tobe Hooper: “chain saw”. A native of Austin Texas and a former college professor, Hooper’s name was put on the horror map after the 1974 release of his now legendary, low-budget, living hell of a horror movie The Texas Chain Saw Massacre; a film about a crazed family who hunt, kill and eat humans (in this film, it’s a group of hippie friends) in order to survive after “progress” has made them obsolete. Chain Saw’s savagery was inspired by violent Vietnam War news reports which Hooper would view nightly on television. Few who saw this indie masterwork back in the day have ever forgotten the absolutely shocking first appearance of the film’s central villain, Leatherface (the late Gunnar Hansen); a cannibalistic, chain saw-wielding killer who wore a mask made of human flesh. The terrifying film, which shows very little onscreen gore, not only became an enormous hit which, to date, has spawned four sequels, a remake and two prequels, but its influence on horror cinema is immeasurable. A true artistic work, Chain Saw, which also stars the late Marilyn Burns and features narration from John Larroquette, now has a permanent place at the Museum of Modern Art in New York.

BY FRED BLOSSER

José R. Larraz’s 1982 film “Black Candles” -- original title, “Los Ritos Sexuales del Diablo” -- has been released on Blu-ray by the specialty label Code Red. Carol (Vanesa Hidalgo) and her boyfriend Robert (Jeffrey Healey) fly to the U.K., where they accept an invitation by her widowed sister-in-law Fiona (“Martha Belton,” aka Helga Liné) to stay at Fiona’s country estate. As the viewer already knows from a pre-credit sex scene, Fiona and virtually everyone else on and around the estate are members of a devil-worshipping orgy cult. But Carol and Robert are clueless, even after they see satanic lithographs on the wall and Carol experiences bad dreams. Fiona seduces Robert into the coven, while the coven’s master, the sinisterly goateed Reverend Hübner, decides to initiate Carol at the cult’s next satanic ceremony . . . And that’s probably all anyone needs or wants to know about the plot, which unabashedly copies “Rosemary’s Baby” and adds all the nudity and simulated intercourse that Euro-movie fans would expect from the relaxed censorship of early 1980s, low-budget sexploitation cinema. Like Larraz’s marginally more famous “Vampyres” (1974), it’s probably better judged against the criteria of Joe Bob Briggs, “The Bare Facts Video Guide,” and “Mr. Skin” than by mainstream critical standards. That is: How many skin and sex scenes are in the film? Where do they occur? How long, umm, do they last? And how much skin do they show? By those benchmarks, Larraz delivers the goods. And for the record, his film at least is more honest in meeting the viewer’s baser expectations than any of the terrible sequels and remakes of “Rosemary’s Baby,” not least the now mercifully forgotten 2014 TV miniseries. The only actors in the cast likely to be recognized by anyone are Helga Liné, the foxy leading lady of countless 1960s and ‘70s Eurospy films, spaghetti westerns, giallo thrillers, and gladiator movies -- yes, she’s frequently nude in “Black Candles,” and in sleek form at almost 50 -- and Carmen Carrión, a familiar supporting actress in Jess Franco’s Eurotrash soft-core sex movies.

BCI Eclipse released “Black Candles” on DVD in the U.S. in 2007 as part of a “Welcome to the Grindhouse” double feature. Before that, there was a DVD-R pressing from Midnight Video under Larraz’s original Spanish title. The Code Red hi-def Blu-ray in anamorphic, 1.78:1 widescreen is far superior to either in sharpness and clarity, and likely the best home video edition we’ll ever see. The BCI Eclipse DVD lists an 85 minute running time, and Code Red lists 82 minutes for its Blu-ray. Based on a comparison viewing, however, the two editions seem to be substantially the same. The opening credits of the Code Red print give the title as “Hot Fantasies,” once used for late-night cable showings. The only extras are other Code Red trailers. The Code Red Blu-ray, which retails for $24.95, is available from Screen Archives Entertainment HERE.

FRED BLOSSER IS THE AUTHOR OF "SAVAGE SCROLLS: VOLUME ONE: SCHOLARSHIP FROM THE HYBORIAN AGE". CLICK HERE TO ORDER ON AMAZON

“THE BEAUTY OF IRONY”

By Raymond Benson

Leave it to The Criterion Collection to present a jaw-dropping, eye-popping Blu-ray release of Stanley Kubrick’s 1975 masterpiece that many critics have called one of the most beautiful films ever made. While the picture received many accolades upon its initial release, including Oscar nominations for Picture, Director, Adapted Screenplay—and wins for Cinematography, Production Design, Costumes, and Adapted Score—it was again one those Kubrick films that was controversial and misunderstood at first. It was not a financial success in the U.S., and yet today it’s considered one of the auteur’s greatest works.

After such titles as Dr. Strangelove, 2001: A Space Odyssey, and A Clockwork Orange, it may have seemed to be an odd choice for Kubrick to make a picture such as Barry Lyndon. One must look back to the period between 2001 and Clockwork to understand it. Kubrick had wanted to make an epic movie about Napoleon and, in fact, spent two years in pre-production on it before MGM got cold feet and pulled the plug. The director changed studios (to Warner Brothers) and shot Clockwork cheaply and quickly to prove that he could make them some money—and he did. So what was he to do with all the previous research materials he had amassed for the Napoleon project? He satisfied his desire to study the past by adapting an 18^th Century novel by William Makepeace Thackeray (The Luck of Barry Lyndon) so that he could tell a tale about class dichotomy, ambition, greed, and hubris.

From the beginning, Kubrick wanted to take an audience back to late 1770s England and Ireland to demonstrate exactly what it was like to live then. The authenticity he strove to achieve consisted of commissioning a NASA lens so fast that it was capable of filming by candlelight (as well as utilizing only natural light throughout the production), employing real clothing from the period, and shooting at real locations where this past still existed. The results are breathtakingly gorgeous renditions of English and Irish countrysides and majestic, elegant manors. All of this surrounds the precise depiction of the manners of an aristocracy that hasn’t been seen on screen before or since.

Ryan O’Neal, who was at the time of production still a box-office star, was cast as Barry, at first a naïve Irish boy who allows heartbreak and jealousy to shape his future endeavors to elevate his social standing. He learns quickly that to get ahead in society he must be a bit of a rogue, a schemer, a liar, and a cad. The first half of the little-over-three-hour picture documents Barry’s rise to prominence. After the intermission, we witness his resounding fall from grace.

The story is told with Kubrick’s keen sense of irony—in fact, no other filmmaker has had such a firm ability to elicit this very difficult blend of satire, causticness, and paradox. You find it in all of his pictures, but Barry Lyndon literally exudes it. This is accomplished in no small part by the detached and slightly amused voice-over narration by Michael Hordern.

Yes, the movie is slowly paced—as it should be. Things moved slower in the 1700s. There is a stateliness and pageantry to the proceedings that is entirely appropriate to the setting, but also to the overall message of the film—that despite the airs one puts on to impress, underneath we’re all still human and pretty much the same.

Every aspect of the production is about as perfect as it can get. John Alcott’s cinematography, Ken Adam’s production design, Milena Canonero and Ulla-Britt Söderlund’s costumes, and the musical score, adapted by Leonard Rosenman and consisting of classical pieces and traditional folk material performed by the Chieftains, all combine to transport the viewer into an age of great beauty and yet cold, near-heartless humanity.

The Criterion Blu-ray is a 4K digital restoration that looks magnificent, and this is accompanied by an uncompressed monaural soundtrack as well as an alternate 5.1 surround soundtrack. The music, as well as every birdsong and musket shot, sounds clean, clear, and vibrant.

An entire second disk contains the plentiful supplements that will take a few hours to get through. The main attraction is “Making Barry Lyndon,” a new documentary that features audio excerpts from a 1976 interview with Kubrick about the movie, appearances by executive producer Jan Harlan, the director’s daughter Katharina Kubrick (who also appears as an extra in the film), and other members from the cast and crew (no Ryan O’Neal, though). There are separate featurettes on each of the technical aspects—cinematography; production design; costumes; editing; music; and the fine art of the period from which Kubrick and the designers drew inspiration. An interview with author/critic Michael Ciment focuses on the themes in the director’s works and how they relate to Lyndon. There are two theatrical trailers. The thick booklet enclosed in the package contains an essay by critic Geoffrey O’Brien and vintage, illustrated pieces from American Cinematographer.

In short, Barry Lyndon is a remarkable piece of cinema that is unfortunately underrated by the general public. It deserves a spot alongside Stanley Kubrick’s other acknowledged “masterpieces.” The new Criterion edition is just the way to see it and perhaps rediscover this brilliant work of art.

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BY MARK MAWSTON

Our friends at Park Circus invited us to a preview of The Shining, which is returning to the big screen this Halloween for limited screening in 100 theatres. This is where the film really should be seen.

I first saw The Shining, under age, in my local cinema where the kindly staff used to let us watch X Cert films from the stalls which were closed to the public. At the time The Shining really didn’t have the impact of Friday The 13^th to my 13 year old self. Certain images did stay with me obviously, this was Kubrick after all, but the one thing I do remember was that the image from the poster of Jack Nicholson’s “Here’s Johnny” moment terrified my younger sister and I used to put the poster up just to scare her. Boys, eh? Over the years I’ve re-watched The Shining several times and each time it’s become more and more of a favourite. This is an adult film, dealing with adult themes and it’s a lot different watching the terror of the young boy Doc as a parent, rather than being closer in age to the character, as I was then. What I also gleaned from this screening was how important sound is in this film and this new print really does justice to the look and aural experience Kubrick strove to achieve.

There were many points that stood out that I’d missed on TV and DVD viewings, such as the aforementioned use of sound when one of the protagonists is “Shining” or indeed the use of mirrors throughout the film; whole scenes where the character’s reflections address the camera, T shirt logo’s in reverse, which pre- empt the famous use of the words REDRUM later in the film.

The film was trailered by the short but interesting new documentary Work & Play. This accompanying film concentrates on the stories of the actual people involved with the production, whereas other documentaries have concentrated of the enigma of Kubrick and the film itself, such as Room  247. Here we have interviews with the film’s iconic twins who are just as fascinating to look at today and still talk in unison- obviously even off the camera, as well as those who rightly intone that “95% of films are forgotten but the ones that fall into that 5% are the great ones, the ones that remain”. So does The Shining fall into that 5%? As far as horror movies go, yes. Like a great wine, The Shining gets better with age, both in look and standing. Although Jack Nicholson’s performance has been pastiched many times, it still stands up as one of the best examples of a man falling into madness ever to cross the silver screen. Although Steadycam camera shots had been used in horror a couple of years earlier (i.e John Carpenter’s Halloween), they have never been utilized better than the scenes of Danny or “Doc”, the boy who can shine, as he races through the Overlook Hotel’s corridors. Again, this is another example of the use of soundscape, as the child’s bike wheels jar from hard floor to carpet in the same way a heartbeat quickens when you approach something dreadful.

The wonderful touches such as Doc wearing an Apollo NASA T shirt alluding to the fact that Kubrick was supposed to have been the director of the “faked” moon landings just add to the fascination of this film. The documentary shows that the working title was “The Shine” and that is exactly what this film will continue to do. I’d be interested to see what Stephen King thinks of the movie now after famously disliking it for so many years. Whatever the case, this is a landmark work and whatever one thinks of the finished product, it’s clear that King wrote a timeless source novel and Kubrick developed it into a classic film. This is the perfect time of year to see for yourself, thanks to Park Circus. Let it Shine. 

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BY FRED BLOSSER

In Tim Hunter’s “River’s Edge” (1987), high-school student John (Daniel Roebuck) tells his pals Matt, Layne, Clarissa, and Maggie that he’s killed another friend, Jamie. The other kids don’t believe him -- he makes the statement with complete lack of emotion -- until he takes them down by the river and shows them the body. The revelation stymies the teens. As Hunter observes in his commentary track on the new Kino Lorber Blu-ray edition of the film, “These are kids who just don’t have the tools to make the tough choices life has thrown their way. . . . No one has taught them morals or values.” Their parents are either dead like John’s, absent like Matt’s father, or helpless like Matt’s divorced, stressed out mother.

Layne (Crispin Glover) argues that there’s nothing they can do for Jamie now, and they have to be loyal to John. He tries to cover up the crime by rolling Jamie’s corpse into the river, and advises John to lay low at the run-down house of their pot dealer, Feck, a crippled ex-biker (Dennis Hopper), until he can sneak out of town. Maggie (Roxana Zal) and Clarissa (Ione Skye, billed as Iona Skye Leitch) make a half-hearted attempt to report the murder before changing their minds. Only Matt (Keanu Reeves) shows any sustained remorse over Jamie’s death. He goes to the police, setting up a tense series of events as the cops look for John, Feck and John wander back to the river, and Layne tries to figure out who snitched. Like the events of two other seminal teen movies, “American Graffiti” (1973) and “Dazed and Confused” (1993), the action stretches into nighttime and into the following morning. In the meantime, Matt’s little brother Tim (Joshua Miller), angry at Matt for hitting him after Tim callously upsets their younger sister Kim, steals a gun from Feck’s house and determines to use it on his brother.

Dramatically and visually bleak, “River’s Edge” benefits from a strong script by Neal Jimenez and uniformly fine performances, with Reeves, Glover, and Hopper notably compelling. Reeves’ pensive, low-key presence effectively balances Glover’s jumpy, gawky physicality. “There’s a great method to Crispin’s madness,” Hunter observes in his commentary track. Glover is particularly striking in a display of grief near the end of the movie, aligning vocal reaction and body posture perfectly. To say more would reveal a spoiler, but you’ll know the scene when you see it. Skye and Zal have one of the best moments in the film, providing some subtle macabre humor as Clarissa and Maggie debate reporting the murder and go to a pay phone:

“Who do I call anyway?”

“The police, I guess.”

“Well, am I supposed to know the number?”

“Call the operator.”

Clarissa holds the receiver indecisively. “You do it.”

“I don’t know what to say. Here, I’ll dial, you talk.”

In his commentary track, Hunter compliments Danyi Deats, who plays the murdered Jamie. Aside from a silent flashback to the moment of Jamie’s murder, Deats’ scenes call for her to lie still on the open ground as the dead girl’s corpse, vulnerably and frontally nude. “She had a tough time,” Hunter says sympathetically, commenting that Deats took the pivotal but static role to get her SAG card. Jamie’s motionless, waxen corpse mirrors two other objects in the film: Feck’s inflatable sex doll, which he calls “Ally,” and little Kim’s doll which Tim vindictively throws off a bridge into the river in the film’s opening shot. Tim’s action begins the string of events that lead him to stalk Matt with a gun. It’s telling that Kim shows more feeling for her lost doll and Feck for his sex toy than Jamie’s friends display for her.

The 1980s details of “River’s Edge” look a little quaint today, when the 24/7 media give parents new reasons to worry about their kids with headlines and top-of-the-hour stories about teens sexting and swapping explicit selfies by smartphone. Nevertheless, the movie’s story and characters remain unsettling. The Kino Lorber Blu-ray’s hi-def, 1920x1080p image is serviceable. Besides the director’s commentary track, the disc includes a theatrical trailer.

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FRED BLOSSER IS THE AUTHOR OF "SAVAGE SCROLLS: VOLUME ONE: SCHOLARSHIP FROM THE HYBORIAN AGE". CLICK HERE TO ORDER ON AMAZON

Sometimes we should just let the music do the editorializing. Just sit back and relish the greatness of John Barry's 1969 main theme for "Midnight Cowboy" and ponder why we don't hear music like this in contemporary cinema.  

BY FRED BLOSSER

Frederick Knott's suspense play "Wait Until Dark" premiered on Broadway on Feb. 2, 1966.  Lee Remick played Susy Hendrix, a young blind woman who becomes the target of a manipulative scheme orchestrated by a sinisterly glib psychopath, Harry Roat Jr. from Scarsdale. Robert Duvall, in his Broadway debut, had the pivotal supporting role of Roat. A movie version opened on Oct. 26, 1967, starring Audrey Hepburn (in an Oscar-nominated performance) as Susy and Alan Arkin as Roat, produced by Mel Ferrer (Hepburn's husband at the time), directed by Terence Young, and scored by Henry Mancini. A predecessor of today's popular, trickily plotted suspense movies like "Gone Gir" (2014) and "The Girl on the Train" (2016), the film was a commercial and critical success, ranking number sixteen in box-office returns for the year. Movies adapted from plays often feel stage-bound, but "Wait Until Dark" avoids those constraints, thanks in no small part to Young's fine pacing, sharp eye for detail, and sure grasp of character.

Bosley Crowther's October 27, 1967, film review in the New York Times noted that the Radio City Music Hall screening of "Wait Until Dark" included a stage show with a ballet troupe, performing dogs, and the Rockettes. Fifty years later, going out to a movie, you're lucky to get a good seat and decently lit projection for the price of admission. Any live entertainment comes courtesy of the patrons behind you who can't put away their smartphones for two hours.

Knott's play was confined to one interior set, Susy's cramped Greenwich Village apartment, which makes it a perennial favorite for little-theater and high-school drama productions on limited budgets. The movie adds a new opening scene in which Sus's husband Sam (Efrem Zimbalist Jr.), a freelance photographer, meets an attractive young woman, Lisa, as they board a flight from Montreal. When they land at JFK, Lisa hands Sam a child's doll and asks him to hold on to it for her temporarily. She says it's a present for the child of a friend, she just learned that the friend and the little girl will be meeting her at the airport, and she doesn't want to spoil the surprise; she'll call and come by for it later. Unknown to the obliging Sam, it's a phony story: Lisa is a drug mule, and narcotics are hidden inside the doll.

Lisa had planned to double-cross her accomplice Roat and split the money from the drug shipment with Mike (Richard Crenna) and Carlino (Jack Weston), her partners in past criminal schemes. Roat murders Lisa and enlists Mike and Carlino to help him find the doll in Susy and Sam's apartment. He lures Sam away with a call promising a big photo assignment. In his absence, Mike poses as an old Army friend of Sam's, and Carlino impersonates a detective investigating Lisa's murder. In a bad guy/good guy ploy, the phony Detective Sgt. Carlino insinuates that he suspects Sam of Lisa's murder. Mike intervenes, offering his support to Susy to gain her trust. To further disorient Susy, Roat poses as two men who appear to lend credence to the con.Harry Roat Sr., an an aggressive old man, barges into the apartment, noisily claiming to be in search of evidence that Lisa, his daughter-in-law, carried on a clandestine affair with Sam. Later, mild-mannered Harry Roat Jr. knocks on the door and apologizes for his father's outburst. It's a nice gimmick for Alan Arkin, who gets to impersonate three characters with different costumes and personalities. For audiences who watched the Broadway production, it might also have provided an effective "Aha" moment when they realized that there was only one Roat, not three. But it's no surprise for the movie audience, since close-up camera angles make it clear immediately that the other two are also Arkin in heavy make-up.

The new Blu-ray release of "Wait Until Dark" from the Warner Archive Collection presents the movie in a 1080p print for high-def TV. It's a definite improvement in richness from previous TV and home-video prints. The tailor-made audience is likely to be those older viewers who saw the film on the big screen in 1967, who may wonder if the movie's "gotcha"climax still holds up. Suffice to say without spoiling the scene for new viewers by going into details, it does. The film's stage origins are obvious in the dialogue-driven plot set-up and in the constrained setting of one cramped apartment. The measured exposition may be a hurdle for younger viewers used to a faster pace and visual shorthand, but the concentration of character interplay in a closed space isn't necessarily a problem, even for Millennials who have been conditioned to expect ADHD editing and splashy FX in movies. It imposes a sense of claustrophobia that subtly forces the audience to share Susy's mounting fear of being hemmed in and trapped.

In "Take a Look in the Dark", an eight-minute special feature ported over to the Blu-ray from a 2003 Warner Home Video DVD release, Alan Arkin notes that the psychotic Roat, with his granny-frame sunglasses and urban-hipster patter, was a break from the usual sneering, buttoned-down movie and TV villains of the time. "By and large, the public had not been exposed to that kind of person", he recalls. "But they began to have people like that live next to them, or see them in the newspapers or on TV." Ironically, if Roat was unsettling to 1967 audiences, he and his flick knife may seem insufficiently scary for younger viewers today, in the endless wake of movies and TV shows about flamboyantly demented murderers since "The Silence of the Lambs" (1990) -- not to mention the perpetrators of real-life mass murders that, numbingly, we seem to see every night on CNN, network, and local news.

The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences presents this rare 1960 eleven minute industry promotional short that was sent to theater managers to explain the innovative ways they could promote Alfred Hitchcock's "Psycho". Hitchcock personally oversaw the construction of the unique campaign that intentionally made seeing the film a status symbol. No one was admitted after the movie had started and large lines of ticket holders waited patiently for the next screening. Theater fronts and lobbies were decorated with extravagant advertising materials and Hitchcock himself provided recorded announcements to keep the crowds entertained. When no studio agreed to give "Psycho" the green light, Hitchcock financed the movie himself on a shoestring budget using many of the people who were working with him on his weekly T.V. series. The film became one of the top-grossers of all time and netted Hitchcock a fortune.

They may be dinosaurs but there are still drive-in theaters hanging in there, mostly in rural America. Travel+Leisure has provided a list of the drive-ins that represent the best in the nation. Click here to read. 

BY FRED BLOSSER

Corky Curtiss (Robert Blake) aspires to be a champion stock-car racer. Fired from his job as a mechanic and dirt-track competitor in small-town Bates, Texas, he abandons his wife Peggy Jo (Charlotte Rampling) and their two small children, collects his pal Buddy (Chris Connelly) and heads east in his 1966 Barracuda. His destination: NASCAR’s Atlanta Motor Speedway, where he hopes to hook up with the legendary Richard Petty. Corky met the great Petty once, fleetingly, and he anticipates that the racing champ will remember him and offer him a chance at the big time.

Messy but interesting and relentlessly downbeat, “Corky” (1972) veers off into unexpected turns as Blake’s troubled character pursues his chicken-fried odyssey from Texas to Georgia. Ben Johnson and Laurence Luckinbill appear prominently in the credits, but they have hardly more than bit parts as rural racing impresarios whom Corky briefly meets as he passes through Louisiana. A scene with Pamela Payton-Wright as a fading and not-too-bright beauty queen, and one with Paul Stevens as a sympathetic track manager in Atlanta, don’t go quite as you might expect them to. Four NASCAR stars (Cale Yarborough, Bobby and Donnie Allison, and Buddy Baker) appear in a brief scene. Waiting hopefully to meet Petty in the NASCAR offices at the Atlanta speedway, Corky spies the four drivers through a soundproof glass wall in an adjacent room. As Corky waves, Yarborough glances at him, then turns away, and the other three appear not to notice him at all. The racers’ body language suggests that they’re preoccupied with planning for an upcoming meet, and not intentionally dismissive, but one wonders whether, today, NASCAR would insist on a fan-friendlier scene. Back home, Peggy Jo goes to Corky’s old boss Randy (Patrick O’Neal) to see if her husband is due any back pay that she desperately needs. Convention suggests that the older man will put the moves on the pretty, vulnerable girl. Instead, he’s a decent guy sympathetic to Peggy Jo’s plight. He gives her a check for her husband’s back wages and additional “severance pay” without strings. The biggest surprise among surprises is Rampling, who is believable and appealing in her atypical role. She even manages a decent Texas accent.

Reportedly, “Corky” was one of the MGM productions in the early ‘70s that suffered at the hands of imperious studio chief James Aubrey. One suspects that some of the film’s shortcomings, such as uneven pace and ragged continuity, and maybe the quick disappearances of Johnson and Luckinbill, were results of Aubrey’s post-production intrusion. Other lapses, like the miscasting of O’Neal and Connelly, good actors in wrong roles, probably not. Robert Blake’s performance is all over the place: abrasively pugnacious one moment, infantile and maudlin the next. Like the downward spiral of the story, which finally drops Corky as low as he can go, without redemption, Blake’s rawness is a reminder of the bygone cinema of the early ‘70s, where happy endings were hardly ever the norm and volatile actors were expected and even encouraged to get in the viewer’s face. Sometimes, watching today’s sanitized and exhaustingly upbeat products from Hollywood, I miss the old days.

“Corky” is a manufactured-on-demand DVD-R from Warner Archive Collection. The letterboxed, 2.35:1 image is satisfactory. The film’s theatrical trailer is the only extra. I wasn’t familiar with “Corky” before putting the disc in the player, but apparently the movie has a small but appreciative fan base of viewers who remember it from long-ago drive-in and TV showings. They should be particularly pleased that Warner Home Video has released the title.

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FRED BLOSSER IS THE AUTHOR OF "SAVAGE SCROLLS: VOLUME ONE: SCHOLARSHIP FROM THE HYBORIAN AGE". CLICK HERE TO ORDER ON AMAZON

BY FRED BLOSSER 

The Warner Archive Collection has released John Landis’ “Innocent Blood” (1992) in a new, remastered Blu-ray edition.  The Blu-ray incorporates two minutes of footage that appeared in overseas prints but were not included in previous U.S. releases. The film opens with a montage of the Pittsburgh skyline after dark, scored with Jackie Wilson’s lush 1960 ballad, “Night.” French vampire Marie (Anne Parillaud, in a lengthy nude scene) sits alone in her hotel room, deliberating on where to find her next sanguinary meal. She opens a newspaper to an article about a local Mafia crew headed by Sal “The Shark” Macelli and smiles: “I thought -- what about Italian?” She allows herself to be picked up by one of Sal’s henchmen, Tony (Chazz Palminteri), whose CD player is loaded with Sinatra discs. Just as Tony thinks she’s going to have sex with him, she chomps into his throat and drinks his blood -- no dainty bites here, she does a job on his neck -- and then, having satisfied her thirst, she obliterates his head with a shotgun blast. The massive cranial damage prevents Tony from coming back as a vampire himself. Marie also thinks that the blast will cover her tracks by leading police to believe that Tony was murdered by rival mobsters (but the forensics guy who later examines the scene figures out that the blood splatter from the shotgun is smaller than it should be -- “this guy was five quarts low.”) Marie chooses Sal (Robert Loggia) as her next victim, but she’s interrupted and forced to flee after biting him.

Pronounced dead and taken to the mortuary, the blood-soaked Sal climbs off the gurney and searches out his gang, turning them into vampires too. “We got the blood. We got the muscle. We’ll crack this town like a lobster,” he boasts, energized by the super strength he’s developed as one of the Undead. One of his victims is his sleazy lawyer Manny, played by Don Rickles. The stunt casting doesn’t disappoint, particularly if you’re a fan of late insult comic. The remorseful Marie enlists wary undercover cop Joe (Anthony LaPaglia) to help her hunt down the gangsters and do away with them before they can inflict more damage. Joe has a personal stake, so to speak, in bringing down Sal, Undead or not, whom he’d been close to busting in an earlier assignment. Moreover, he’s sexually and romantically attracted to Marie (this is Anne Parillaud, after all). But, knowing she’s a vampire, he’s worried that he’ll be her next appetizer.

“Innocent Blood” opened in theaters on September 25, 1992, and earned a relatively paltry $4.9 million in its brief theatrical run, far outpaced by another release that debuted on the same day, Michael Mann’s “The Last of the Mohicans.” In the years since, it’s slipped into obscurity on cable and home video, probably remembered only by compulsive horror fans and John Landis completists. The new Warner BRD at the correct 1.78:1 aspect ratio presents the film in peak condition, looking substantially better than it has on any previous home video edition. In fact, it’s probably an upgrade over the way it looked in most theaters on first release, given the slipshod maintenance of projector bulbs in the average suburban multiplex, then and now. The impeccable hi-def visuals are particularly impressive in Mac Ahlberg’s on-location exterior shots in Pittsburgh, with their electrifyingly vivid nighttime neons. Setting the movie in Pittsburgh doesn’t serve any particular dramatic purpose story-wise, but it gave Landis and the studio a tax credit from Pennsylvania’s Hollywood-friendly department of revenue, and locals will get a kick out of seeing the Liberty Tunnel and other area landmarks.

BY TIM GREAVES

A chiller-thriller from the pen of Brian Clemens, 1971's See No Evil was a notably lower-key affair for director Richard Fleischer, former helmer on such celebrated cinematic epics as The Fantastic Voyage, Doctor Doolittle, Tora! Tora! Tora! and 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Which isn't to imply See No Evil is inferior. Quite the contrary, in fact.

Left blind after a horse-riding accident, Sarah (Mia Farrow) moves in with her Aunt and Uncle, Betty and George Rexton (Dorothy Alison and Robin Bailey) and her cousin Sandy (Diane Grayson) at their opulent riverside home. Familiar with the geography of the sprawling house, Sarah is able to confidently go about coping with her disability. Arriving home after spending the day with an old boyfriend, local horse breeder Steve (Norman Eshley), Sarah believes the family to be out for the evening and prepares for bed, unaware that in her absence all three have been brutally murdered. She eventually stumbles upon the bodies and encounters the mortally wounded gardener (Brian Robinson) whose dying words warn her that the killer is certain to return to retrieve a damning piece of evidence he carelessly left behind…

The legendary Brian Clemens is probably best known as producer-writer on classic TV show The Avengers, but he was also the mind behind a batch of very fine Brit movie chillers, among them And Soon the Darkness, Dr Jekyll and Sister Hyde and Captain Kronos: Vampire Hunter, the latter which he also directed. His script for See No Evil is an efficient little knuckle-whitener, questionable perhaps only in the motivations of its wrongdoer. Is watching a couple of X-certificate movies – in the opening scene the killer-to-be, face unseen, leaves a cinema screening ‘The Convent Murders’ and ‘Rapist Cult’ (both fictitious) – and getting one’s gaudy cowboy boots splashed by a passing car really sufficient impetus for a murder spree? Of course, no-one expects the bad guy in this type of movie to be sane, but the heavy-handed message during the opening credits sequence that society’s glorification of violence is the cause for what follows is pretty tenuous.

In any event, See No Evil (which I first saw on late night TV as Blind Terror, its original UK theatrical release title) is less of a tawdry exploitationer than it might have been, making up for any perceived deficiency in that regard with a goodly infusion of nerve-jangling suspense. Indeed, Fleischer and Clemens aim for burgeoning ill-ease as opposed to gory spectacle and for my money they hit the target square on. There are occasional moments of nastiness peppered throughout – the sudden reveal of Sandy’s corpse, a haunting shot of George immersed in a bathtub of bloody water – but they're fleeting and it’s fair to say the film works primarily as an exercise in measured pacing and sustained suspense. Take for example a protracted sequence in which Sarah goes about her daily routine unaware that she's just feet away from the dead bodies of her family. Throughout this stretch Fleischer toys mercilessly with the audience and Gerry Fisher's cinematography really comes into its own as we're treated to a series of impressive tracking shots, each homing in on a dropped or discarded item, increasingly telegraphing the sense that something bad has happened, until the eventual reveal of the Rextons’ corpses. Of course whilst we, the audience, witness all this – including broken glass on the kitchen floor (which we just know will be trodden on at some point and, in a wince-inducing moment, it is) – poor, sightless Sarah sees none of it. Once she finally realises what's happening the pace quickens and the story mutates into an extended game of cat and (blind) mouse. There's a beautifully framed instance of tease when our cowboy-booted killer climbs a flight of stairs; Sarah stands foreground, hidden from him, and the camera circles so that whilst it remains focused on her it simultaneously observes the killer's ascent. One can't help but strain to see the face that remains tantalisingly out of shot! If the suspense loses momentum a tad when Sarah's plight changes from being pursued by the murderer to an unexpected ordeal instigated by a latecomer to the party, well, it's only a minor blip.

UK release poster.

As with any murder mystery worth its mettle there's a proliferation of suspects on hand too – a gypsy encampment just down the lane from the Rexton abode offers up a whole shoal of red herrings – and it’s not too surprising that one's eye is frequently drawn to inspect a character’s footwear.

Mia Farrow conveys blindness convincingly and Norman Eshley makes for a suitably handsome hero, whilst Lila Kaye and a surly Michael Elphick stand out among the myriad of gypsies. It’s nice to see Paul Nicholas and Christopher Matthews in small but not insignificant roles. Elmer Bernstein furnishes the proceedings with a lush score, although rather amusingly he can't help slipping into The Magnificent Seven territory during a sequence when Sarah and Steve are out riding on horseback.

BY FRED BLOSSER

Mario Bava’s Gli invasori or The Invaders (1961) was imported to U.S. theaters in 1963 by American International Pictures in a dubbed print as Erik the Conqueror -- not to be confused now with Terry Jones’ 1989 farce, Erik the Viking. It was the sort of genre movie that would have played on a weekend double-bill at the Kayton, the second-run theater in my home town. There, it would have been paired either with another Italian peplum or sword-and-sandal epic, with a Hammer Films horror show, or with an Audie Murphy western. The Kayton’s 1960s double features were eclectic, to say the least. In that buttoned-down Cold War era, the peplums satisfied international box-office demand for movies about brawny bare-chested heroes, curvaceous scantily-clad women, and exotic settings that Hollywood productions like Quo Vadis (1951), Ben-Hur (1959), and Cleopatra (1964) were slow to satisfy because they were so expensive and time-consuming to produce. The model for Erik the Conqueror was Richard Fleischer’s very popular 1958 epic The Vikings, produced by and starring Kirk Douglas. The influence must have been obvious at the time even to undiscriminating audiences who watched the dubbed import at the Kayton and its counterparts in other small towns. But The Vikings required an investment of $5 million in 1950s dollars from Douglas’ Bryna Productions and its partners to pay for A-list Hollywood talent and on-location filming in Norway. Bava wrapped Erik the Conqueror for a fraction of that cost using existing studio interiors, exteriors on the Italian coast, a modest cast, and ingenious camera tricks that obviated the need for hiring thousands of extras for crowd scenes and constructing new sets.

American International’s 1963 movie poster played the film for exploitative value. “He lived only for the flesh and the sword!” the tag line proclaimed. The British poster under the title The Invaders similarly advertised, “He lusted for war and women.” Both ads suggested more sex and skin than the script, costuming, and actors actually delivered. Like The Vikings, Erik the Conqueror centers on two antagonists who don’t realize at the outset that they’re brothers. Dispatched by English King Lotar (Franco Ressel) to negotiate peace with the Viking chief Harald, the treacherous Sir Rutford (Andrea Checchi) instead attacks Harald’s village, massacres Harald and most of his people, and engineers Lotar’s murder. Harald’s young sons are separated in the chaos. Eron is rescued and carried to Norway, while Erik is adopted by the now-widowed English queen, Alice. Twenty years later, colluding with Rutford, Eron (Cameron Mitchell) leads an invasion of England and sinks an English warship commanded by Erik, now the Duke of Helford. Kidnapping Queen Alice, Eron installs Rutford as his regent. In the meantime, Erik (George Ardisson) is shipwrecked among the Vikings. In a romantic misunderstanding, Erik mistakes Eron’s bride, the Vestal Virgin Daya (Ellen Kessler), for his own sweetheart, Daya’s twin sister Rama (Alice Kessler). The Vestal Virgins are an anachronism in the Medieval setting, but the conceit gave the producers a chance to include dancing girls in diaphanous gowns to pique the attention of male viewers. Once the misunderstanding with Rama is squared away, Erik rescues the queen and proceeds to a showdown with Eron and the turncoat Rutford.

Arrow Video in the U.K. has released a new, 2K restored print of Erik the Conqueror from the original 35 mm camera negative in a Blu-ray and DVD combo package. The new release provides a renewed opportunity to reassess Bava’s movie in a sharp, letterboxed 2.35:1 Dyaliscope image, with critical context provided by supplementary materials. Rescued from the drab, pan-and-scan format to which it was doomed in old TV and VHS editions, and enhanced even beyond Anchor Bay’s worthy 2007 DVD edition, it emerges as an acceptable B-movie with respectable costuming and action scenes. The production values are notably better than those of most peplums and easily comparable to those of Hollywood’s second-tier Technicolor epics of the 1950s, if not to the overall finesse of higher-profile releases like The Vikings and Jack Cardiff’s lively, underrated Norse epic from 1964, The Long Ships. Plot, dialogue, and characterizations are rudimentary, but then, so are those in the joyless, overstuffed, multi-million-dollar costume epics of recent vintage. At that, some of the sillier lines in Bava’s movie can be avoided by turning on the Blu-ray’s Italian voice track and English subtitles instead of the English-language dub with its alternately wooden and childish voices. The simple-minded dialogue in Gladiator (2003), Robin Hood (2010), and King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017) is pretty much inescapable short of turning the volume completely off.

BY TIM GREAVES 

The year 1987 saw the release of director Steve De Jarnatt’s debut feature, Cherry 2000, an actioner planted in a dystopian future. A strong headlining performance from Melanie Griffith aside, it’s not a particularly remarkable film, but I liked it when I first saw it and still do. However, De Jarnatt’s second offering, which he also wrote, is a different beast altogether: A unique and intoxicating cinematic nightmare. Where else but in Miracle Mile can you see a fledgling romance play out against the countdown to the apocalypse?

Whilst strolling around a museum in Los Angeles, Harry Washello (Anthony Edwards) and Julie Peters (Mare Winninghan) cross paths several times. They get talking and it’s evident there’s a mutual attraction between the two lonely hearts. Having arranged an after-midnight date with Julie when her waitressing shift at an all-night diner on L.A.’s Miracle Mile finishes, Harry decides to take a nap. But his alarm fails to go off and he’s late – almost 4 hours late in fact. Julie has unsurprisingly given up and gone home. He tries to call her from a phone booth outside the diner but gets no reply. As he walks away the phone rings and he returns to answer it. Believing Harry to be someone else, a distraught man’s voice informs him he’s at a silo in North Dakota from where nuclear missiles are set to be launched in less than an hour, with reprisals targeting L.A. expected to follow minutes later...

Miracle Mile’s opening scenes introduce its two instantly likeable protagonists and swiftly lay out enough lightly comic trimmings that anyone going in blind could easily be primed with expectation for a gentle rom-com. Indeed, we subsequently follow the couple through a montage of first-date activity and Harry is introduced to Julie’s beloved grandparents. But hold on, because things are about to veer off into less comfortable territory. Following the aforementioned telephone conversation – a couple of minutes during which the film’s tone darkens quite dramatically – Harry goes into the diner and recounts what he’s just heard to the motley assembly of patrons. In doing so he plants a seed that quickly sprouts into a living nightmare. The sense of urgency builds at an ever-increasing rate as the remainder of the film charts Harry’s race against time to locate and get Julie to safety, encountering as he goes a succession of quirky and dubious characters lurking on the night-shrouded streets of L.A.

With the escalating tension driven by a hauntingly eloquent Tangerine Dream score, there’s one burning question that propels the narrative: is what Harry was told during that phone call for real or was it some sort of twisted hoax? Suffice to say that as time ticks on and the sun begins to rise all hell breaks loose, with politesse kicked into the dirt as panic-stricken people behave the way that panic-stricken people do; cars filled with terrified citizens clog the streets out of the city and there are glimpses of the animalistic manner in which the less conscionable choose to spend what they perceive to be their last minutes on Earth. Worse yet, as potential Armageddon fails to materialise when predicted, Harry begins to fear that he – rather than any genuine impending threat – may have inadvertently instigated all the madness, anxiously likening himself to Chicken Little.

Now, Miracle Mile may be touching 30 years old, but for the benefit of those unfamiliar with the film I shall leave any further discussion about the plot there.

Anthony Edwards and Mare Winningham deliver splendidly endearing performances and director Steve De Jarnatt invests just enough time establishing the romantic thread at the outset that, as fate unrelentingly conspires to separate the pair, the viewer is filled with an overwhelming desire to see them make it out alive to pastures green. Although almost every other character in the story appears only briefly, there are memorable turns from Mykelti Williamson as a trader in knock-off hi-fi gear, John Agar and Lou Hancock as Julie’s grandparents and Brian Thompson as a fitness freak who just may facilitate Harry and Julie’s salvation.

By Hank Reineke

I wasn’t expecting Citizen Kane, really I wasn’t. When the top-billed actor in your already quirky production is the Edward D. Wood regular the Amazing Criswell, the failed psychic… Well, you know what to expect on some gut level. The Amazing Criswell, admittedly an already very minor celebrity psychic in his day, achieved certain notoriety for his ridiculous and wildly inaccurate predictions. Following his turn in Wood’s seminal cult classic Plan 9 from Outer Space (1959) and the (very) belatedly released Night of The Ghouls (shot in 1959 but only released in 1984), the pale, blue-eyed, bleached blond Criswell is outfitted in Count Dracula-like garb for Orgy of the Dead (1965). This is, as one might expect, a classic Criswell performance; it’s both refreshing and strangely comforting to listen to him put all his dramatic inflection and stresses on the wrong words, accentuating the coordinating conjunctions rather than the nouns of nearly every sentence.

In Orgy of the Dead, directed by A.C. Stephen from a threadbare “script” written by the revered Mr. Wood, the not always Amazing Criswell portrays the “Emperor of the Night.” The Emperor is holding court at an eerie cemetery… or as eerie a graveyard as one can set-dress on a shoe-string budget and an indoor soundstage. The Emperor is soon joined by his “Empress” (Fawn Silver), a Vampira- meets- Elvira character with Sapphic tendencies who sports a layer of blue make-up that covers the entirety of her body. Well, all of her body except for the deep crease between her two ample breasts. I suppose the production’s make-up artist was too shy to apply and “go deep.”

If this spooky scenario seems promising in a “so-bad-it’s-good sort-of-way,” there’s disappointment ahead. Despite its fog-bound horror film trappings, Orgy of the Dead is not remotely a horror film at all. In fact, the only genuine horror to be found on screen is in the ineptitude demonstrated by this the ensemble of actors, actresses, and, um, exotic dancers. There is no real narrative here; the film is merely a ninety-minute long topless peep-show revue with Halloween trimmings. Before the film sputters to a merciful finale, we’ve been made to witness no fewer than ten interpretative topless dance routines, all mind-numbing and pretty much non-erotic in their presentation. It’s all freeform and non-stop bumping and grinding and jiggling in panties and G-strings and bad costumes. Take my word on this; it’s not as good as it might sound.

Orgy of the Dead is the celluloid equivalent of those 1960’s nudie magazines that featured buxom, cheesecake cuties on their covers. The sort of “men’s magazines” that were prudently stashed in the top-tier racks of tobacco shops and stationary stores as to not offend the readers of Good Housekeeping or Better Homes and Gardens. The parade of beauties and near-beauties tapped to ply their trade before a leering camera are not former members of the Martha Graham Dance Company. More probably, they took the night off from their regular gig performing at a local topless gin mill or adult-themed nightclub. Or maybe they were making some quick afternoon dough by strutting their stuff on this grass mat and fog shrouded set.

The dancers try their damndest to play to the camera, but it’s all sort of sad. Almost all of the cast share one common trait, and not a good one: blank and expressionless eyes. Everyone seems to be looking past the rolling cameras into some far-off beyond that only they can see, sadly detached from their own performances-in-progress. I imagine this type of personal disengagement was honed on stage during their nightclub exhibitions, perhaps as some sort of protective emotional cocoon.

It’s almost a relief when, some twenty-five minutes or so into a parade of not-particularly-well-executed interpretative dance routines, that a muse seeking mystery novelist named Bob (William Bates) and best gal Shirley (Pat Barrington) are kidnapped by a Mummy and a Wolfman, dragging the bewildered pair from the bushes. One might expect things to become a bit livelier with this turn of events but, sadly, it is not to be. These two masked monsters (referenced as “The Keepers of the Damned”) simply strap the couple to a pair of stakes in the cemetery, a punishment for their eavesdropping on the unholy ceremony in progress. Forcing this bewildered couple to bear witness to this seemingly endless string of interpretative dance routines can certainly be considered cruel and unusual punishment. They should have invoked the Geneva Convention.

Sync- sound recording is kept to the barest minimum, confined only to the wince-inducing exchanges of dialogue between Bob and Shirley and the self-proclaimed Emperor of Empress of the Night. I cannot reasonably include the occasional and wretched banter between the Wolfman and Mummy as sound synch as both characters are wearing masks and presumably dubbed throughout.

Even for the most unapologetic Edward. D. Wood devotee, this endless parade of non-erotic topless dance routines becomes increasingly tiring, the burlesque showcase more tedious than titillating. Even the Vampira meets Elvira –like “Empress of the Night” character eventually dismisses the parade of nudie dance routines as “infinitesimal bits of fluff,” and for once I’m in total agreement. The film starts off promisingly in the classic Wood Jr. fashion with two bad actors tripping over their tongues as they attempt to deliver halting sobriquets of Wood’s God-awful dialogue. But it’s all downhill from there.

BY DANIEL SAVINO

Although their characters have become iconic, the now classic fantasy monster films of Universal Studios have suffered a reputation of creakiness, cheap thrills, poor characterization and logic gaps. While the images of Bela Lugosi’s Dracula, Boris Karloff’s Frankenstein monster, and Elsa Lanchester’s Bride of Frankenstein dominate magazine covers, notebooks, posters, mugs and other collectibles, the series of movies that introduced these characters seems to get very little respect from film historians. A step in the right direction to correct this is the excellent new book The Monster Movies of Universal Studios by James L. Neibaur, published by Rowman and Littlefield. In this fascinating new study, the author puts Universal’s horror series into proper historical context. Unlike other books on the subject, Neibaur has limited his focus to films that feature one or more of Universal’s line-up of monsters. This book concentrates on the classic era, with the range of focus highlighting movies from 1931 through 1956. Any movie made by Universal Studios during this period with Dracula, Frankenstein’s monster, the Mummy, the Invisible Man, the Wolf Man and the Creature from the Black Lagoon is discussed in-depth with a chapter devoted to each feature, twenty nine movies in all. These include all of the sequels and films that blended fantasy and comedy elements when Universal paired up their monsters with their house comedy duo Abbott and Costello. The book is an impressive work of film scholarship and shines a spotlight on classic Hollywood moviemaking by looking at one of the longest film series at a major studio.

Readers disappointed that Neibaur didn’t discuss such mystery and horror offerings from Universal during this period such as The Old Dark House and Murders in the Rue Morgue (both 1932) shouldn’t be. The focus on the monsters makes the book a one- of- a- kind study devoted to characters that seem to always be taken for granted. While Edgar G. Ulmer’s The Black Cat (1934) is celebrated for it’s daring, unconventional storyline, the films that feature the monsters seem to get lumped in with low budget movies from a later era. In fact, movies such as The Invisible Man (1933), The Bride of Frankenstein (1935) and Dracula’s Daughter (1936) share more in common with The Black Cat than just being made at the same studio. The author restores these films to their proper place as valuable works of cinematic art.

This isn’t to say that when there are jumps in narrative logic, especially evident in the later movies, Neibaur doesn’t point them out. However, even these assembly line B films are given more respect in this book then in previous studies of the Universal genre catalog. The usual pattern of writers discussing movies made during the Great Depression and World War II is to highlight the escapism and lighthearted nature that many of those films exhibit. Examples that prove this pattern include the Fred Astaire/Ginger Rogers cycle at RKO, the Topper films, etc. In this work Neibaur presents a different argument- that the monster series presented something very real to fight against, a threat that personified the evils of economic crisis and foreign fascism. Given this argument, it is somewhat less hard to believe that the horror series at Universal would decline in popularity after the war ended.

In addition to the nation’s and the world’s economy fluctuating during the time of the Monster films covered in this book, it was also true that there were money problems at Universal as well. First, Universal founder Carl Laemmle Sr. borrowed too heavily and lost control of the studio. It was then decided at that time that the horror series would continue as B films, relegated to a more factory mode of filmmaking. Whereas Universal’s monster series began with cinematic artists such as Tod Browning and James Whale helming Dracula and Frankenstein (both 1931), the series ended with Jean Yarbrough directing She-Wolf of London (1946) in a decidedly non-flourished way, with cost cutting in mind. The contrast couldn’t be more evident as She-Wolf is a film with a Scooby-Doo like ending, a far cry from the earlier films that embraced supernatural elements such as vampirism, invisibility, lycanthropy or fantastic science that brought life to the dead through lightning or tana leaves. It’s interesting to note that when the B movie factory mode of the series finally ran its course, a happy ending was not in the cards.

BY DARREN ALLISON

When it comes to good adventure stories, Journey to the Center of the Earth (1959) will arguably feature among the very best. It is one of those films that continue to delight audiences both old and new. In terms of elements it seems to tick all the boxes. At its heart, there is a fine, good natured yet entirely gripping story. A wondrous subterranean vista provides the viewer with monsters, vast underground oceans, villains and plenty of cliff-hanger moments of suspense.

It was perhaps a well-timed stroke of luck that some of the stories penned by Jules Verne were entering a period of public domain status. Two of Verne's adapted novels were to feature James Mason. Disney's adventure 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954) starred Kirk Douglas as a 19th-century whaler and Mason as Nemo, captain of the story’s legendary submarine, the Nautilus. Five years later, Journey to the Center of the Earth (1959) was made by Twentieth Century Fox an ambitious project which starred Mason as professor Lindenbrook, who sets about leading an expedition into an Icelandic volcano along with his group to a magical, underground world.

Professor Lindenbrook discovers a long-hidden message that reveals the existence of a passage into the centre of the Earth. He leads a team of unlikely adventurers including singer Pat Boone (who is actually rather good), Arlene Dahl, and a duck named Gertrude. The group’s daring expedition will see them come up against exploding volcanoes, rockslides and even flesh-eating reptiles! The film also features a classic score by the great composer Bernard Hermann and was lavishly filmed in stunning Cinemascope. A landmark in both science-fiction and adventure filmmaking, Eureka Classics presents the movie for the first time on Blu-ray in the UK and from a very impressive 4K restoration.

As a keen fan of the movie, I’ve followed closely the numerous home video releases over several decades – from the humble VHS, Laserdisc and DVD era through today. Whilst each format provided a natural improvement in terms of quality, it was a film that never looked entirely satisfactory, with issues around dull colours and an overall grainy presentation. I did have some initial fears about the new 4K restoration, mainly concerning if it would only enhance the grainy look to the film. Thankfully, my worst fears were immediately put to rest.

Eureka’s new Blu-ray looks nothing short of stunning; there is a genuine freshness to the picture quality. The colour retains a wonderful, natural feel, vivid but never too rich, especially in the opening scenes based around the college and the Edinburgh street locations. The colour is ramped up a degree for the subterranean scenes, as of course they should. But these scenes are now nicely rendered, bursting with shimmering colours and crisp detail. I was also pleasantly surprised by the lack of grain that had previously hampered so many other home editions. Instead, the 1080p, 4K restoration (provided by Twilight Time) is beautifully balanced, extremely clean and as close to perfection as we’re ever likely to see. It’s been a long, patient journey for fans of the movie. Without a doubt, Journey to the Center of the Earth should always have looked this good. Leo Tover’s glorious Cinemascope photography has never been showcased so well, and I very much doubt if it could ever be improved upon. Twentieth Century Fox’s Cinemascope features have never fallen short in terms of rich detail, it’s always been there. However, in respect of Journey to the Center of the Earth, it’s arguably never received the kind of close attention that it’s so fully deserved. Eureka’s release also provides a couple of audio options including a stereo PCM track and a rather impressive DTS 5.1 HD master. Both tracks are clear, clean and dynamic.

Leading the extras is a very enjoyable audio commentary with actress Diane Baker and film historians Steven C. Smith and Nick Redman. Diane Baker really emerges as a wonderful commentator with an incredibly detailed memory and she has no trouble reciting anecdotes from the production. Steven C. Smith (a Bernard Herrmann historian) also demonstrates a vast knowledge of cinema and engages effortlessly even when veering away from Herrmann’s incredibly important contribution to the film. With two such enthusiastic and knowledgeable guests, Nick Redman’s role as moderator is made very easy, and the entire duration of the commentary is both an insightful and absorbing experience.

Also included is an isolated music and effects audio track.

New to this release is a video interview with critic and author Kim Newman. As always, Newman provides many important insights into the production, a look at the written works of Jules Verne and the subsequent adaptations of his stories to the screen. Lasting around 15 minutes, it’s a welcome and enjoyable piece.

There is also a previously released featurette on the film’s restoration history which provides split screen examples of various home editions of the movie.

The extras are rounded off with the original theatrical trailer which features James Mason’s perfectly delivered voice over.

Packaging consists of new artwork, which is ok, but I would much rather see the original poster artwork put to good use. Inside contains there is a booklet featuring an original review of the film from 1959; a poster gallery; and a selection of rare archival imagery.

Overall, it’s a terrific package with a stunning presentation of an important movie. Fans of the genre and the film, should at last find a great deal of satisfaction in Eureka’s release. It’s been a long time coming, but entirely worth the wait.

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BY LEE PFEIFFER

Since my all-time favorite TV series is  "The Honeymooners", the legendary sitcom that was originally broadcast in 1950s, one might think I would have been overjoyed at the prospect of seeing the show's new incarnation as a big-budget musical production that just premiered at the prestigious Papermill Playhouse in Millburn, New Jersey, a venue so revered that it was honored with a special Tony award. In reality, I had considerable trepidation about seeing the show. The characters in the TV series- bus driver Ralph Kramden, his devoted but long-suffering wife Alice and their best friends, sewer worker Ed Norton and his wife Trixie- have been ingrained in the minds of every American baby boomer. In fact, the re-runs have rarely left the New York airwaves even sixty years after their original airings and the four main cast members- Jackie Gleason, Audrey Meadows, Art Carney and Joyce Randolph- are all permanently enshrined as pop culture icons. It's for precisely that reason that I feared the new stage production would be less an homage than a ripoff, created by people who have no real feel for the show. We've certainly seen this occur before, especially in translating classic television series to feature films. Thus, I'm happy to report that the musical stage version of "The Honeymooners" is a success that will almost certainly please even the most die-hard fans of the show. Tickets are selling rapidly due to good reviews and word-of-mouth. Cinema Retro attended the October 8 performance, which coincided with a press night and cast and crew after party. 

The plot fits snugly into the type of scenario found in any of the T.V. episodes: the working class Kramden (Michael McGrath) and his best friend Ed Norton (Michael Mastro) engage in one of their generally doomed get-rich-quick schemes, this time submitting a jingle for an advertisement promoting a brand of cheese. Lo and behold they actually win and before long are being wooed to join an advertising agency, with the promise of sky-high salaries. As you might imagine, Ralph starts scouting luxury apartments in midtown Manhattan before he's even earned his first paycheck, much to the chagrin of Alice (Leslie Kritzer). Meanwhile, a subplot follows Trixie Norton (Laura Bell Bundy), who has decided to return to the burlesque circuit in order to pursue her own career- a decision that leads her into the grasp of her lecherous boss, who surprisingly is not named Harvey Weinstein. (Trixie's career in burlesque was mentioned in one episode but never explored beyond that.) Predictably, the good luck that falls upon Ralph and Ed becomes a case of "be careful what you wish for", as they are subjected to seedy Madison Avenue executives, a devious boss (Lewis Cleale) and a grumpy sponsor  (Lewis J. Stadlen) who expects a great jingles on the spur of the moment. The new-found success also causes a strain on Ralph and Ed's friendship. 

Joyce Randolph and cast members  Michael Mastro, Laura Bell Bundy, Michael McGrath and Leslie Kritzer are joined by Brian Carney (right), son of Art Carney at the afterparty. (Photo copyright Cinema Retro. All rights reserved).

The show's book is written by Dusty Kay and Bill Nuss, both of whom are obviously fans of the T.V. series, as evidenced by the peppering of references to classic episodes that left the audience delighted. The script presents plenty of zingers associated with the characters, each of of whom is expertly portrayed by their modern counterparts. McGrath and Mastro do masterly work, evoking all of the character traits of Gleason and Carney and even bearing a substantial resemblance to the comedy legends (though McGrath reportedly wears padding to match Gleason's chubby physique.) Leslie Kritzer is highly impressive, channeling Audrey Meadows even as  Laura Bell Bundy creates a new interpretation of Trixie that benefits from the fact that the script emphasizes the character far more than the T.V. series did. (Though purists might growl about Trixie's sultry dance number). All of these are extremely talented young actors and they do yeoman work. (McGrath is Tony winner and Bundy is a Tony nominee.)  The supporting cast is also first-rate. The musical score by Stephen Weiner and lyrics by Peter Mills are impressive even if no breakthrough numbers emerge that will have you humming when you leave the theater. The entire enterprise is creatively directed by another Tony winner John Rando, who keeps the pace lively despite the fact that the show is a bit overlong. The choreography by Joshua Bergasse is very creative but there are at least a couple of musical numbers that could be trimmed without causing any negative impact on the show. There are also missed opportunities: the production practically calls out for some reference to the Huckabuck and Mambo dances that feature prominently in two of the best episodes, but which are nowhere to be seen. (A Huckabuck skit was originally included but was cut from the finished production. Time for the producers to rethink that one) and  I don't recall hearing the iconic theme from the T.V. series, "Melancholy Serenade", which was composed by Jackie Gleason.   I must confess that I'm not a proponent of turning non-musical properties into big, lavish musical stage productions. The writing in "The Honeymooners" is good enough to have carried the show perhaps as a 90 minute comedy sans music and intermission. However, there is no doubt that the audience relished the songs and the reaction was overwhelmingly good. I should also mention that it was a wise decision to keep the story set in the 1950s and the impressive sets evoke a real feel for the show, including the legendary Kramden kitchen where most of the action in the T.V. series took place. There is also a very creative aspect to the final moments of the show with the introduction of a surprise plot device focusing on "Cavalcade of Stars", the program where "The Honeymooners" was introduced as a series of periodic sketches before it became a regular series. It makes for a delightful finale. Most importantly, like the T.V. show, this version of "The Honeymooners" isn't just a litany of one-liners. It has heart and real emotion, as it explores the value of relationships. 

(Photo: Evan Zimmerman)

I attended the performance in the company of Joyce Randolph, who is an old friend and the only surviving member of the original "Honeymooners". Joyce, who would have no problem voicing disapproval, gave the show a big thumb's up- and if it's good enough for Trixie Norton, it will surely please the legions of fans who are salivating to see it. Don't panic if you can't get tickets. Like so many of the hit shows that have world premieres at the Papermill Playhouse, there's talk of moving "The Honeymooners" to Broadway, a development that even Ralph Kramden couldn't dream of.  

CLICK HERE FOR TICKET INFORMATION FOR THE SHOW, WHICH RUNS THROUGH OCTOBER 29.

(CONTINUE READING FOR MORE PHOTOS FROM THE PRESS NIGHT)

BY LEE PFEIFFER

Frank Sinatra made his first appearance in The Sands, the legendary Las Vegas casino, as a young crooner in 1953 when the town was a microcosm of its present self. The Chairman of the Board would become synonymous with the place as the years passed. In 1960, Sinatra and his fellow Rat Packers- Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., Joey Bishop and Peter Lawford- were filming "Oceans Eleven" by day and appearing on-stage at night in their sensationally popular, largely improvised "Summit" act which consisted of music and comedy. Sinatra's efforts on behalf of African-Americans helped integrate the hotels in Vegas and he was the town's major draw. However, Sinatra's mercurial temper also loomed large in outrageous displays of anger. When Howard Hughes took over the Sands in 1967, he cut off Sinatra's credit line (which apparently the crooner never intended to pay for). Sinatra had a hissy fit and went wild in the main casino before quitting the place to lend his talents to Caesar's Palace. Writing on the Daily Beast site, Allison McNearney recalls the doomed love affair between Sinatra and the Sands. Click here to read. 

BY JOHN M. WHALEN

In Raoul Walsh’s “Gun Fury,” a 1953 Columbia western, Donna Reed plays genteel southern belle, Jennifer Ballard, who is traveling west by stage to meet her fiancé, Rock Hudson, who plays a former confederate soldier by the name of Ben Warren. Warren now owns a ranch in California and all the two of them want to do is forget the war and settle down near the ocean. Also on the stage is Phil Carey (you remember him as Asa Buchanan on “One Life to Live;” and years earlier as Philip Marlowe on an ABC TV series). Carey plays Frank Slayton, an “unreconstructed” Southerner who’s pretty ticked off on the way the war turned out. He’s immediately attracted to Donna Reed, though. She represents the kind of southern woman of good breeding he’d always hoped to settle down with some day. He tries to ingratiate himself with her but she gives him the cold shoulder.

Also on the coach is the lantern-jawed Leo Gordon, who has played bad guys in more westerns than you can shake a stick at. He plays Jess Burgess, Frank’s partner. The stage stop for the night at a relay station with a hotel and Ben arrives to claim his bride-to-be, much to Slayton’s chagrin. At dinner we have some character development in which we learn Ben had enough social interaction during the war and now just wants to mind his own business and settle down with Jennifer and ignore the rest of the world. After spending the night in the hotel (in separate rooms, of course) they climb back on the stage next morning, only to be attacked by an escort of Union troops, who shoot the driver and shotgun. Turns out Frank and and Jess are stage coach robbers and the soldiers are really members of Slate’s gang. They killed the real soldiers and took their uniforms. There’s some gun fury action and Ben is shot and left for dead. Slayton and his gang run off with the gold and the girl.

So far, not a bad set up. The first cliché’d plot twist comes right after that, however, when we see Old Ben isn’t as dead as Slayton thought he was. It’s the old “merely a nick on the side of the head” routine. He’s pretty upset, though, when he finds his fiancé has been kidnapped and he takes out after them. Meantime Slayton and his gang reach a hideout and Slayton and Jess get into a fight over the girl. Jess wants her left behind, otherwise she’ll cause trouble. Slayton wins the argument and Jess ends up left behind and hog-tied to a fence. Ben shows up a bit later and frees Jess and they make a deal to ride together. Ben wants his girl and Jess wants revenge and his share of the fortune he helped steal. It’s an unlikely alliance, but given that neither one of them have any alternative but to work together, it’s more or less believable.

They ride on and stop to the next town and ask the sheriff there for help. The lawman says it’s none of his concern; the robbery happened outside his jurisdiction. Rock’s isolationist philosophy of just minding his own affairs comes back to bite him in the butt. But he’s determined to get Jennifer back and Jess still wants his money. So they move on and there’s a lot of riding and some nice views of the Red Rock country around Sedona, Arizona, where the movie was filmed. Ben and Jess are soon joined by an Apache who wants revenge on Slayton and his gang for killing some of his people. The three of them eventually catch up with the gang, who have also kidnapped a Mexican girl that gang member Blackie (Lee Marvin) took a shine to. When Slayton realizes he’s being hunted not only by Ben Warren, (who he thought he had killed), but also by his old buddy Jess (who he’d left hog-tied to a fence), and an unknown Indian, well, it shakes him up.

Slayton and his gang are only a few miles from the Mexican border, he’s got to decide what to do fast. He comes up with the idea that they’ll trade Jennifer for Jess and everyone will go on his merry way. Whaaaat?? Make a deal with the guy you left hog-tied to a fence, and then suddenly give up your yen for the genteel southern belle you’ve always dreamed you’d settle down with, and gone to so much trouble to get? Just like that? And what about Jess? Does he really think he can get back in the gang and get his share of the loot, after Phil was so ticked off at him that he left him for dead, hog-tied to a fence? It’s obvious Slayton only wants to get Jess out in the open so he can plug him. How stupid is Jess to think it’s possible to make a deal like that? What kind of crazy deal is this anyway?

“Gun Fury” was not only directed by the legendary Raoul Walsh, who made many great films, the screenplay was written by two well-known pros—Irving Wallace and Roy Huggins. Are you telling me that these three couldn’t have come up with a more believable finish to this sagebrush potboiler? Couldn’t they see, when they got to shoot the final scenes, that the story was going off the rails? Couldn’t one of them have come up a more believable finish than the laughable prisoner exchange at the end? Hard to believe. But they totally wrecked what could have been a good action western. Was cocaine already that big a problem in Hollywood in 1953?

BY LEE PFEIFFER

First Run Features has released director Lucia Puenzo's acclaimed 2013 film "The German Doctor" on DVD. The movie is the highest profile Argentinian release in years and was honored at numerous international film festivals. Puenzo, who also wrote the screenplay, based on the film on her novel, which- in turn- is said to have been inspired by the real-life experiences of a family who interacted with the infamous Nazi war criminal Dr. Josef Mengele. During WWII, Mengele was known as "The Angel of Death" at Auschwitz. Here, he utilized his considerable medical skills for evil purposes, selecting who would live and die among the wretched masses who arrived daily at the death camp. Those who were spared were consigned to a living hell of torture and slave labor. The few children who were not put immediately to death were used as human guinea pigs in Mengele's bizarre and cruel medical experiments. He was obsessed with genetics in his goal of helping Hitler fulfill his ambition of creating a "Master Race". Mengele played a key role in attempting to manipulate pregnancies to ensure that only Aryan children would be born in nations under Nazi control. His bizarre theories have long been discredited by the mainstream medical establishment, particularly his obsession with twins. Mengele studied pairs of twin children through inhumane methods, often operating on them without any pain-killers. The few prisoners who interacted with him and managed to survive the war report that, for all his barbaric practices, Mengele had a calm, almost soothing demeanor that would often lull his victims into thinking he was a benign presence in the camp. He would pat children on the head and offer them candy, only to dispose of them like rubbish hours later. In the aftermath of the war and the chaos that ensued in Europe, Mengele managed to escape (along with many other Nazis) to South America. In his case, he found refuge in Argentina, where the corrupt government sheltered him, presumably in return for his "expertise" about how to fine-tune torture tactics. 

It is against this backdrop- what we inherently know about Mengele- that Puenzo's story begins. It is 1960 and we see Mengele (Alex Brendemuhl), using the assumed name of Helmut Gregor, lost on a remote country road. He has a chance encounter with a young couple, Eva (Natalia Oreiro) and Enzo (Diego Peretti), who are traveling with their three children. Mengele befriends the family, who consent to having him follow them in his car along the desolate roadways. Along the way, Mengele charms each member of the family and he explains that he is a doctor en route to an institute where he will be working. Coincidentally, the institute is very close to the family's destination, which is a resort hotel that they have inherited. The couple intends to reopen the hotel and hope to make a financial success of it. Enzo, it appears, has not been successful in financially providing for his family. He fancies himself an inventor and his real passion is creating a unique doll that can marketed to little girls. He finds a sympathetic ear from Mengele, who reinforces his bond with the family by becoming their first tenant at the hotel. Eva is immediately smitten by the charming German doctor but he seems more interested in the couple's oldest daughter, Lilith (Florencia Bado). Although twelve years-old, she is very short and slight of build, giving the impression she is much younger. This results in terrible bullying at the local school, where there are children of German ex-pats who are particularly cliquish and cruel to Lilith. Both Eva and Lilith are charmed by Mengele, who professes to help them by offering to inject Lilith with hormone injections that will spur her growth. Enzo is adamantly against the idea, but Eva secretly gives the doctor permission to proceed. Before long, Lilith is experiencing strange medical complications. Simultaneously, Mengele discovers that Eva is pregnant with twins. This smorgasbord of potential medical experiments excites him and before long, he has convinced Eva to also undergo some of his quack medical treatments. He has also ingratiated himself with Enzo by finding a financial backer who will mass produce Enzo's dolls. (A sequence set in a doll factory is brilliantly staged and genuinely eerie, with row after row of hollow-eyed dolls evoking memories of a death camp.)  However, when Enzo sees his wife and daughter suffering from mysterious illnesses, he begins to suspect that his new friend is really a villain. He is not alone. A local photographer (Elena Roger) is, in fact, an Israeli intelligence agent who also begins to believe that the seemingly benign and charming man of medicine may actually be one of the most wanted men in the world.  

"The German Doctor" plays out at a slow, deliberate pace that is refreshing in a film industry defined by fast-editing and mindless action sequences. The script allows each character to be fully developed and the relationships between the key players becomes fascinating, as Mengele uses psychological methods to manipulate his next victims. The performances are uniformly extraordinary, with Brandemuhl particularly impressive. Although portraying one of the most notorious criminals in history, he deftly manages to make him charming and likable, both necessary ingredients if we are to understand why the family he has befriended can be so easily manipulated by him. The film is engrossing throughout and, even though we know through history how Mengele finally met his fate, it doesn't deprive director Puenzo from milking a considerable amount of suspense from the scenario.

The First Run Pictures DVD offers an excellent transfer but is frustratingly devoid of any bonus materials. It would be a worthwhile ambition for the label to eventually put out a special edition of this excellent film with a commentary track that helps viewers understand the historical context of what they are seeing.

CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON

“IS IT OK TO LAUGH WHILE HAVING SEX?”

By Raymond Benson

When Dr. David Ruben’s sex manual Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex* (But Were Afraid to Ask) was published in 1969, it became a best-seller and quickly entered the mainstream. Everyone talked about it. It was even office water-cooler fare. It wasn’t meant to be funny—just informal, straight, and to the point. The book was organized as a series of questions, such as “Why do some women have trouble reaching an orgasm?” and the author would answer.

In 1972, Woody Allen freely adapted it as a comedy, taking a handful of the questions from the book and creating a series of seven vignettes that are, well, ridiculous. It became one of Allen’s biggest hits of his entire career—right now BuzzFeed ranks it as his fourth highest box office earner when adjusted for inflation.

It was only Allen’s third picture (not counting Play It Again, Sam, which he didn’t direct and was released earlier in ’72), so the auteur was still finding his way. He was still all about making zany, but smart, movies that were all about the gags. But because of the episodic nature of its structure, some sketches work better than others. Of the seven “questions” that are illustrated, I would say two are 5-star brilliant, two are 4-star good, and the rest just okay. In 1972, some of the material was R-rated shocking in a dirty-joke, nudge-nudge way. Today, Everything comes off a bit tawdry and dated in places. However, it’s still a worthwhile picture with some major laughs in key sequences.

The two highlights are “What is sodomy?”—in which Gene Wilder delivers a brilliantly subtle performance as a doctor who gets it on with a sheep; and “What happens during ejaculation?”—which is presented like a NASA-mission with a “control room” inside a man’s brain manned by Tony Randall, Burt Reynolds, and others, and featuring Allen as a bespectacled sperm who is afraid to leap out, paratrooper-style.

Other funny moments are “Do aphrodisiacs work?”—with Allen as a court jester in Shakespearean times, trying to seduce the queen (Lynn Redgrave), and “Are the findings of doctors and clinics who do sexual research and experiments accurate?”—in which Allen and a journalist (Heather MacRae) visit a mad doctor (John Carradine), whose lab work produces a giant-monster-breast that terrorizes the countryside.

The game show What’s My Line?-parody (retitled What’s My Perversion?) is clever, as it’s presented in old television black and white kinescope style with the original host (Jack Barry) and contestants. Other actors appearing in the film are Louise Lasser, Anthony Quayle, Geoffrey Holder, Lou Jacobi, and Erin Fleming.

The Twilight Time Blu-ray looks fine in its 1080p High Definition; but frankly, the old 1970s film stock just doesn’t lend itself well to HD. Does it look better than standard DVD? A little. The 1.0 DTS-HD Master Audio is an improvement, however; the pictures sounds terrific.

As usual with Allen’s Blu-ray releases, the only supplements are an isolated music and effects track, and the original theatrical trailer. Julie Kirgo provides the knowledgeable essay in the booklet.

“Is this sex comedy worth buying on Blu-ray?” The Answer—yes, especially since this release is limited to only 3000 units. And while it doesn’t rank as one of Woody Allen’s best movies, it will make you laugh, especially while having sex.

CLICK HERE TO ORDER 

BY MARK MAWSTON

It’s taken 35 years for the often talked about sequel to one of sci-fi cinema’s finest moments- Blade Runner- to actually appear in the form of Blade Runner 2049. Most fans were against the idea of a sequel, pondering how you could improve on perfection. Well, like the Replicants of the first film, although perfect in many eyes, the original version underwent its own various modifications to improve significant flaws over the years. We had the original “noir” version, the “director’s” and the “final” cut before director Ridley Scott and most fans were happy. This final cut also seemed to answer the conundrum relating to Deckard (Harrison Ford) being a Replicant himself. Or so we thought. If, as I and many thought pre-screening, Deckard was indeed a Replicant, how has he lived so long and aged? Did this mean that the Replicants were given skin that would age, yet their strength would remain? If so, then Harrison Ford is still the perfect choice but I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything as director Denis Villeneuve asked for reviewers to refrain from giving away any key aspects from this special preview in London on Oct 2^nd. Not only that, I’m still not sure of the answer after seeing this incredible continuation of the Blade Runner mythos. What I am sure about is that this is, along with The Godfather Part II, one of the greatest sequels in movie history.

The premise is thus: LAPD Officer K (Ryan Gosling) is a Blade Runner in 2049. During an investigation, he unearths a long hidden secret that, if true, would lead society into chaos. Once begun, his quest leads to him tracking down the long missing Rick Deckard (Harrison Ford) to find out the truth; but will he and, indeed, Deckard, like what they find?

Everything about Blade Runner 2049 works. From the perfect casting to the sets which rise from the dust bowls of a radioactive Vegas and the sodden Los Angeles like glistening tiers in the rain. The cinematography by Roger Deakins is stunning while the screenplay by Hampton Fancher and Michael Green is as subtle as the music by Hans Zimmer and Benjamin Wallfisch in complementing, yet adding to, the mythos of the original. As a viewer, you are like a feather on the breeze and have no choice but to  be blown in whichever direction Villeneuve and producer Scott decide to take you. The film is like a spiral interior of a sea shell; whether it’s leading you out or into its centre is the question you have to try and work out for yourself.

With a running time just short of three hours, this film, like the beloved “spinners” which have replaced cars, simply flies by and the fact that this screening took place on the eve of director Villeneuve’s 50^th birthday led me to think that this is a movie will still be talked about 50 years from now. We may not have flying cars by then but I’m sure we’ll still have neon advertising dominating our cities and climate change affecting our lives.

This is a modern masterpiece that you really need to see on the big screen, although I left there thinking I’d love to see it in the “Elvis” room Deckard has. See it and you’ll know what I mean.

BY LEE PFEIFFER

To commemorate the 35th anniversary of Steven Spielberg's masterful "E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial", Universal has released a highly impressive edition comprising of Blu-ray, DVD and digital HD versions. The film has lost none of its wonder and timeless appeal and this gorgeous home video release makes it possible to re-live those great memories in appropriate style. (Some of us are old enough to remember being excited about the movie being released on VHS!) This limited edition is out of this world. 

Here is a description of the contents:

Combo Pack Includes Blu-ray + DVD + Digital HD* Over 3 Hours of Bonus Features! The E.T. Journals: Featuring behind the scenes footage from the filming of the movie, this featurette gives viewers a unique feeling of being on-set and living the excitement of what it was like to make E.T. (Blu-ray Exclusive) Steven Spielberg & E.T.: The director reflects back on the film and discusses his experience working with children as well as his overall and current perspective on E.T. Deleted Scenes A Look Back: A special insider’s look into the making of E.T. featuring interviews with Steven Spielberg, the cast, and others intimately involved with the film. The Evolution and Creation of E.T.: From idea to screenplay, through casting and making the film. The E.T. Reunion: The cast and filmmaker reunite to discuss their thoughts on the impact of the film. The Music of E.T. A Discussion with John Williams: Interviews and footage of the long-standing relationship between John Williams and Steven Spielberg. The 20th Anniversary Premiere: Composer John Williams played the score of E.T. live at the Shrine Auditorium for the re-release premier of E.T. This featurette gives us a behind the scenes look at this presentation.

CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON

By Hank Reineke

Collectors and enthusiasts of the serials produced by Republic Pictures Corporation (1936-1955) have reason to rejoice. Save for the too occasional and often spotty rare film release, proprietary rights to the Republic’s vast back catalog from that studio’s “Golden Age” have mostly languished in the vaults. Then, with little fanfare, Paramount Pictures, Inc. - the company who had obtained the rights through a dizzying history of corporate takeovers and mergers - began to quietly make some of these moribund but treasured troves of rare films digitally available to fans in late 2015. Though streaming through the Youtube channel via the company’s Paramount Vault portal was not the platform that many of us had hoped for, it was a welcome turn of events and certainly better than nothing.

If nothing else it was a long time coming. Devotees of these decidedly nostalgic vintage chapter plays have too long been forced to enjoy these treasures via ropey and gauzy VHS rips from tattered 16mm film elements. Many collectors will recall the old days when the only conduit for tracking down copies was through the purchase of bootleg-market videotapes from mysterious and transient P.O. Box address-only sellers listed provocatively in back page classifieds of genre magazines.

The Adventures of Captain Marvel, now available on Blu-Ray via Kino/Lorber Studio Classics, is generally acknowledged as one of the finest and exciting serials. It’s also noteworthy as the titular Captain Marvel is the first comic book superhero to make it to the big screen with an equally big splash. The character Captain Marvel first appeared in the second issue of Whiz Comics in February of 1940. He quickly became the best-selling comic book superhero of the 1940s, his popularity partly due no doubt to the success of this Republic serial of 1941. On the printed page, Captain Marvel would face down many enemies, but in real life his greatest nemesis might have been the creators of Superman. The man from Krypton, of course, made an earlier debut in Action Comics in June of 1938.

With his leotards, tall boots, cape, whisk of black hair, gift of flight and apparent invincibility, there was something about Captain Marvel that seemed uncomfortably too similar and oddly familiar to Superman’s copyright holders – and soon the inevitable teams of lawyers were brought in to sort it all out. The litigation lasted for years and years, but within a year of the character’s creation Republic Pictures had already brought The Adventures of Captain Marvel successfully to the big screen. In contrast, Columbia Picture’s Superman serial (starring Kirk Alyn as the big screen’s first man from Krypton) would not be released until 1948.

In some small way, you can hold some degree of sympathy for the litigious maneuverings of Superman’s copyright holders. Much like the fabled “Man of Steel,” Captain Marvel was similarly styled in appearance and powers and hid behind the protection of a secretive dual identity. He could also fly, withstand a barrage of gunfire, and bend steel bars in his bare hands. In some small ways the Fawcett Publications superhero was different. Though it takes a good dose of rare Kryptonite to bring down the mighty Superman, in The Adventures of Captain Marvel it seemingly only takes a good jolt of electricity to – if only temporarily - incapacitate our hero. In any event, the popularity of The Adventures of Captain Marvel would cause Republic to return to the wellspring of their success. Throughout the 1940s the studio would produce a score of serials featuring pop-culture characters licensed from the pages of comic books: these iconic films would introduce young moviegoers to the first celluloid adventures of Dick Tracy, Red Ryder, Spy Smasher, Captain America, The Lone Ranger and Zorro.

Cinema Retro's Raymond Benson’s new stand-alone novel, THE SECRETS ON CHICORY LANE, will be published October 10, 2017, by Skyhorse Publishing, but it is trickling into stores now. The book is also listed on Amazon and Barnes and Noble. Links to retailers can be found here.

Raymond has signing events scheduled for October 4 and October 8 in the Chicago area, and signed books can be pre-ordered from these outlets as well prior to the appearance date:

Anderson’s Bookshop (Oct. 4 signing)
Naperville, IL 
630-355-2665

Centuries and Sleuths Bookstore (Oct. 8 signing)
Forest Park, IL
708-771-7243

*

From the New York Times bestselling author comes a new novel of suspense involving a small town neighborhood street where first love, a child abduction, and abuse collide.

Sixty-one-year-old Shelby Truman, a best-selling romance novelist, receives a request to visit her childhood friend, Eddie, who is on Death Row. Though mentally ill, Eddie is scheduled to be executed for murder.

As Shelby travels home to Texas for the unnerving reunion, she steps into the memories of her past, recalling her stormy five-decade-long relationship with Eddie in order to understand what led the beautiful and talented—but troubled—boy who lived across the street to become a killer.

Shelby fears that her flashbacks, whether they occurred in the nearby public park, in their respective houses, or in their “secret hiding place” where they could escape Eddie’s abusive father, might be shocking . Most significant was the tragedy of one summer that set in motion a lifelong struggle against an Evil—with a capital “E”—that corrupted their all-American neighborhood.

With only a few days left for Eddie to live, Shelby braces herself for a reunion that promises to shed light on the traumatic events that transpired on her street, changing everything Shelby thought she knew about the boy on Chicory Lane.

Legendary Production Designer Ken Adam at work on "Thunderball". Copyright Notice © 1965 Danjaq, LLC & United Artists Corporation. All rights reserved.

Cinema Retro has received the following press release:

RELEASE YOUR INNER ARTIST WITH THE BIG DRAW AT BOND IN MOTION

· Participate in three James Bond themed art activities throughout October at the London Film Museum as part of Living Lines: An Animated Big Draw Festival

· Founded in 2000, The Big Draw is an arts education charity that promotes visual literacy and the universal language of drawing as a tool for learning, expression and invention

· Celebrate the work of visionary James Bond Production Designer Sir Ken Adam at the Bond in Motion exhibition, Covent Garden

28 September 2017, London. The Big Draw Festival is the world's biggest celebration of drawing, organised by The Big Draw charity (formerly the Campaign for Drawing), and this year Bond in Motion at the London Film Museum is offering visitors the chance to release their inner artist with a variety of activities celebrating the Living Lines theme.

Living Lines: An Animated Big Draw Festival is open to a wide range of interpretations from animated, theatrical, illusionary, technical or just plain messy. Visitors to Bond in Motion will find the inspiration to spark creativity from the original items on display from the 007 film series including concept drawings, storyboards, scripts, model miniatures and full-size cars, boats, and motorbikes.

Visitors can take part in three complimentary art activities in October; design a 007 disguise, create a fantasy James Bond storyboard, and contribute to a collage wall by drawing a scene from their favourite 007 adventure.

Concept art for "You Only Live Twice" by Ken Adam. Copyright Notice © 1967 Danjaq, LLC and United Artists Corporation. All rights reserved

A selection of the finished designs will be posted on the London Film Museum social media pages with Bond in Motion prizes awarded for the best creations.

Many James Bond vehicles, costumes and unforgettable movie scenes started life as a storyboard or concept drawing. From Dr. No in 1962 through to Spectre in 2015, the James Bond films have featured the work of incredibly talented designers and artists who have imagined, drawn, painted and created some of the most fantastic and futuristic ideas ever to feature on the big screen.

Throughout the exhibition, guests can admire and take inspiration from the work of visionary James Bond Production Designer Sir Ken Adam, one of the most significant production designers of the twentieth century.

“We are delighted to support The Big Draw initiative,” said London Film Museum Founder and CEO, Jonathan Sands. “In October, we are offering visitors to our permanent Bond in Motion exhibition in Covent Garden the opportunity to take part in three James Bond themed art activities which we hope guests of all ages will enjoy.”

The London Film Museum is located at 45 Wellington Street, Covent Garden and is open seven days a week. Tickets are available from www.londonfilmmuseum.com and www.ticketmaster.co.uk

BY MARK CERULLI

For years, every studio salivated over Marvel’s profit machine where iconic characters jump in and out of each other’s films. To get in on the action, Universal mined their monster vaults by creating the Dark Universe franchise. The first entry was The Mummy starring Tom Cruise, Annabelle Wallis and Russell Crowe (as Dr. Henry Jekyll). Directed by Alex Kurtzman, the film also starred Algerian stunner Sofia Boutella as the title creature, who is light years away from Karloff’s 1932 creation.

The film stirred a pot o fan controversy when it was announced because of, well… Tom Cruise in a horror movie? Not to worry, he dove into the hero role with his trademark enthusiasm and ageless good looks, doing stunts that would leave any other mortal in a coma or full body cast. The film is entertaining; it’s a popcorn ride, full of beautiful scenery and state-of-the art visual effects, and Boutella steals the show as the sensuous 5,000 year-old Egyptian Princess who is pure evil.

Along with their $125 million film, Universal packed a sarcophagus full of extras on the 2-disc, dual format set that also includes a digital download version. Extras in the set include:

Deleted Scenes

Creating The Plane Crash (in Zero G)

Meet Ahmanet

Cruise In Action

And others – adding up to over an hour of bonus material. Say what you will about Tom Cruise doing horror, The Mummy featured spectacular sets and some of the best action sequences this side of a James Bond movie. (And the vicious sandstorm taking out London’s financial district is a show stopper.) Universal’s first plunge into their Dark Universe is definitely worth your time – and you might as well get familiar with it because, if the studio has its way, The Mummy is just the tip of the dark iceberg: The Bride of Frankenstein (with Javier Bardem as The Monster) is already in the works as is The Invisible Man (with Johnny Depp no less).

(For Mark Cerulli's review of the film's theatrical release, click here).

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