Celebrating Films of the 1960s & 1970s - Film Reviews & Essays

ROBERT REDFORD'S "SILENT MOVIE" GETS RAVES AT CANNES

nospam@example.com (Cinema Retro) — Fri, 24 May 2013 05:25:00 -0500

It's been quite a while since a film starring Robert Redford got a lot of positive buzz at film festivals. However, his offbeat starring role in a new film called All is Lost got a great reaction after its premiere showing at Cannes. Directed by JC Chandor, the movie depicts Redford as a lone sailor who finds himself in jeopardy on the high seas. The film is said to be masterfully directed and acted and its predicted Redford may score a Best Actor Oscar nomination even though he has no dialogue in the one-character adventure flick. For more click here

ALFRED HITCHCOCK AND THE "FRENZY" THAT NEVER WAS

nospam@example.com (Cinema Retro) — Fri, 26 Apr 2013 05:15:00 -0500

By Harvey Chartrand

Neville Heath was an English killer responsible for the murders of two young women. He was executed by hanging in London in 1946 (aged 29). Heath was a handsome and well-spoken sociopath who could easily lure women to their doom.

In 1967, Alfred Hitchcock was trying to rebound from the failure of the Cold War espionage thriller Torn Curtain with an original screenplay entitled Frenzy (and later Kaleidoscope). The unproduced project was to have been based on the crimes of serial rapist-killer Heath, although the story would be set in the present day in and around New York City. The original story would be told completely from the point of view of a murderer who is both attractive and vulnerable.

Screenwriter Benn Levy wrote in a letter to Hitchcock in January 1967: “It's got to be (based on) Heath, not (John George) Haigh (the acid bath murderer). Told forwards, the Heath story is a gift from heaven. You'd start with a ‘straight’ romantic meeting, handsome young man, pretty girl. Maybe he rescues her from the wild molestations of a drunken escort. ‘I can't stand men who paw every girl they meet.’ Get us rooting for them both. He perhaps unhappily married and therefore a model of screen-hero restraint. She begins to find him irresistibly ‘just a little boy who can't cope with life’ -- least of all with domestic problems such as he has described. She's sexually maternal with him, she'd give him anything -- and we're delighted. Presently a few of us get tiny stirrings of disquiet at the physical love-scenes but don't quite know why. By the time we see the climax of his love in action and her murder, then even the slowest of us get it! But we shouldn't know till then.”

Rare trade ad for a film that was never made.

Frenzy would also be a stylistic departure for Hitchcock. After watching Michelangelo Antonioni’s Blow-Up, Hitchcock felt he had fallen behind the Italians in technique. Hitchcock biographer Patrick McGilligan writes: “Watching one Antonioni, he sat up straight at the sight of a man all in white in a white room. ‘White on white!’ he exclaimed to (his personal assistant and script supervisor) Peggy Robertson. ‘There, you see! It can be done!’”

Hitchcock was also impressed by the camerawork improvisation of maverick American director John Cassavetes (Shadows). He asked the novelist Howard Fast (Spartacus, Cheyenne Autumn) to sketch a treatment about a gay, deformed serial killer. Pleased with the results, Hitchcock composed a shot list with over 450 camera positions and shot an hour’s worth of experimental color tests, using unknown actors in various states of undress. This footage was filmed in New York City, and gives a tantalizing glimpse of what Hitchcock had in mind, of how revolutionary Frenzy/Kaleidoscope would have been in his body of work – a Psycho for the more liberated counterculture era. Unfortunately, MCA/Universal were disgusted by the script and test footage and immediately canceled the project, reducing Hitchcock to tears. Hitchcock was coerced into directing Topaz, Leon Uris’ behind-the-scenes account of the breakup of a Soviet spy ring at the highest levels of the French government during the 1962 Cuban missile crisis. Topaz was another in a string of artistic and commercial failures for Hitchcock as he approached age 70.

Japanese poster for the 1972 film Frenzy which was entirely different from the previous project Hitchcock had intended to use the title for.

What would have been Hitchcock's most daring and controversial work was thwarted: an avant-garde film using hand-held camerawork, a first-person viewpoint and natural lighting (à la Blair Witch Project, filmed 32 years later), detailing the exploits of a gay bodybuilder who dabbles in murder, rape and possibly necrophilia. It was conceived in 1964 as a prequel to Hitchcock’s 1942 film Shadow of a Doubt and was initially titled Frenzy, not to be confused with his eventual 1972 movie of the same name, from which certain plot elements of the original Frenzy were recycled.

Hitchcock’s interest in Neville Heath first manifested itself in 1959 in his unproduced project No Bail for the Judge, which would have starred Audrey Hepburn, Laurence Harvey and John Williams. A respected judge is blamed for the murder of a prostitute, and his barrister daughter searches for the real killer in London’s criminal demi-monde. Hepburn, who desperately wanted to work with Hitchcock, suddenly withdrew from the project because of a scene in which her character is brutally raped in Hyde Park by a good-looking London pimp named Edward “Neddy-Boy” Devlin, who dominates Hepburn by slowly strangling her with a necktie.

Audrey Hepburn never did work with Hitchcock, but Laurence Harvey got along with the Master of Suspense and starred in Arthur (1959), a grisly episode of the long-running TV anthology series Alfred Hitchcock Presents in which a beautiful woman (Hazel Court) meets with a terrible fate.

Neville Heath

The rape scene in No Bail for the Judge obviously was one that Hitchcock wanted to realize, in one form or another. It is quite similar to the scene of Mark’s rape of the frigid Marnie on their honeymoon cruise. The unproduced script of No Bail for the Judge also looks forward to the unproduced Frenzy/Kaleidoscope and to Hitchcock’s serial killer masterpiece Frenzy (1972), with its sexually impotent necktie strangler Bob Rusk (Barry Foster) loose in London, eager to pin the murders of several attractive women on his best friend. The unproduced Frenzy contains a sequence in New York’s Central Park where the killer, Willie Cooper, takes a young woman into the bushes and murders her. And while Bob Rusk may have more victims to his credit than Neville Heath and Willie Cooper, it is clear that Edward “Neddy-Boy” Devlin was Hitchcock’s first “necktie strangler”.

So, as Hitchcock matured as an artist, his impulse to film violent misogynistic scenes intensified – scenes which would finally be free from censorship in the freewheeling “anything goes” atmosphere of Hollywood in the sixties and seventies.

(Click here to order Cinema Retro issue #18 featuring extensive coverage of Hitchcock's Psycho. Click here to order Cinema Retro issue #24 featuring in-depth article on the making of the 1972 version of Frenzy)

GOD(ARD) AND HIS DAME: DR. KAREN OUGHTON LOOKS BACK ON "VIVRE SA VIE"

nospam@example.com (Cinema Retro) — Tue, 09 Apr 2013 00:06:14 -0500

By Dr Karen Oughton

Naughty little Nana stands in front of the camera. With her head in close-up, she poses: left, full profile and then right. Throughout Jean-Luc Godard’s Vivre Sa Vie, the philosophising prostitute is both alluring and clinical, free-spirited and forced, but despite her famous speech in the cafe (and being seen and perhaps censured by capricious cinephiles) can she be held responsible for her actions within the film

Godard’s piece (naturally enough for the New Wave) is a mixture of different styles, as suggested by its teasing, nimble title, Vivre Sa Vie, which translates roughly as “live life” and has been moulded variously into It’s My Life, My Life to Live and To Live Her Life across the territories. It suggests an approach mixing direct cinema with cinema verite-style camera work to indicate a defiant, almost decadent posturing that is nonetheless a delicate portrayal of its theme and holds its truth in the quickest flecks of light caught on camera behind the beguiling Nana. Indeed, Nana’s relationship with the camera changes from scene to scene; she flirts with it almost as a client, forces herself on it when dancing and is followed by it when fleeing terrified from the scene of a shooting. The film’s subtitle is A Film in Twelve Scenes. Simply speaking, it charts segments in the life of Nana, a wife and mother who has left her family to tread the boards.

She aspires to life as an actress and it could be argued that she subsequently spends most of the time fulfilling a series of roles, such as the moll she becomes for most of the feature’s duration. From the opening frame, Godard goads us, makes us strain for the meaning in her scenes, for the meaning of her mythos as a whole.

Following the frames in which we are given information about the film’s festival-circuit run, the opening section is where Godard’s starlet seduces the camera. Nana stands still, sometimes almost in silhouette. Her eyelashes are fluttering and there are slight movements of her tender mouth and smooth throat as she breathes. While an understated gesture, it is sexual, sordid even and oddly uncomfortable for the viewer, so personal is the image that it reminds them of their own breath and rhythmic deglutition. The music appears, then disappears and we are denied Nana’s eyes as they are blotted out by obviously obtrusive text in the titles. The referent paradox is clear: she is Miss X of the same generation, one of the modern masses, yet a subject worthy of study and a creature so captivating she must be periodically censored for her audience’s own good.

The film is an exercise in illustrating the paradoxes of interpretation, so much to consider, yet every element included is a potential deconstruction. Nana is an appealing mix of style and naturalism, function and frivolity. Her short hair makes her comparatively boyish (as she semi-acknowledges in her letter to a potential Madam, stating that it could quickly be grown out), yet it also shows off that sensual neck. From the opening scene where we only truly see the back of her head and hair, bulky jacket and cigarette smoke, she may drink like a man, play like a man and talk like a man, but she can also be moulded by a man. She talks about her torturous life to her ex-husband, Paul, in the café. We see their backs and note their similar shapes and the ferocity of fear for her fate versus her desire to be seen as “special” by him. She acts in place of his inaction. We are desperate for them to touch as shutting us out of their conversation (as the framing does) makes us feel vulnerable too, all the while praising Nana for her forward-thinking vehemence. Above all, however, her hair’s sleek cut makes her look extremely functional, as underlined by her clothes and chamber while working as a call girl. Nana has an innate glamour that both enhances her sex appeal and sterilizes her environment.

Here is a girl who borrows her gestures from the gentlemen she galvanises. Her head bobs with theirs on her bored, business-like but Byzantine journey; while leading them often around the room, she also follows their lead when allowing herself to be purloined for their pleasure. The easy, lazy angle of her hand holding a cocked cigarette is her calling card and is the art of the tart considering the inevitable conclusion of her next conquest.

Art or apparatus, Godard wants us to feel the grit under Nana’s shoes in order to understand the poetry of the situation; she cannot appreciate the responsibility she claims during the canteen scene as for her (an actress in both senses) it must remain unsaid lest it becomes a piece of performed fiction. As Susan Sontag states in Against Interpretation, she’s there to be seen, not to explain, so we must fill in the gaps for her. Against this interpretation, however, is our own interpretation of that. As Godard changes his camera angles and plays with diegesis we cannot help but imply an interpretation. According to Sontag, these are simply snippets of a kaleidoscope, a section of discourse that relates to the narrative frame but not to our assertive femme for whom (she feels) no explanation is given. Yet despite Sontag’s clear investment in stating the alternative, it becomes impossible not to see the implied implications of the oddly innocent girl’s situation.

Indeed, Nana’s more masculine behaviour only serves to silhouette her slightness and frailty. As Sontag comments, each one of the film’s twelve segments recalls a text and, as the ‘text’ in the café sequence suggests, Nana’s story is that of ‘The Chicken’, that which’s soul can only be found when she has given of herself. However, this is not through negation of herself as Sontag suggests – it is not exactly a process during which Nana has no control over the layers that are stripped away, but it is controlled submission. We see Nana unburdened in the scenes in which she drifts, when her smile shines brightly enough for it to light up her eyes. This is when the body and soul of this little ‘chick’ are peeled away and we notice Nana unconstructed, a Nana of pure feeling inside the skin cage, a ghost inside the machine.

We listen to Nana and her lover discuss passages of Poe and may think her mask is beginning to slip; despite the simple, clinical setting alongside the business-like montages of our Mademoiselle and her men, we begin to feel warmth. Nevertheless, this is hope for the future that feels hallucinogenic, so far is it from the narrative’s precision-focused frame. Nana has become a body, a sculpted doll not only in her looks but in her assertive, masculine behaviour, so it is natural that this, too, must be discarded. This occurs in our final sequence, wherein our miss is sold to another pimp. She is manhandled across a bleak parking slot from man to man until she is shot. Her delicate figure contrasts against the shaft of the gun, yet like it she has become little more than a mechanism of male control, a cog in a wheel of a criminal machine maintained by money and murder. Nana’s impregnation by the phallic symbol represents a loss, a commercial union turned sour. Nana the machinic mode of production has been decommissioned. To put it crudely, the bullet has given her more holes than necessary for her occupation and has marked her. Particularly in the cold, hard light of the modern-day chicks, she is simply an appendage sullied, and therefore sullying by association, another man.

After her evisceration and an indelicate death dance, therefore, she falls to the floor by the car.

It is here the viewer finally feels Nana in a way that Sontag would probably support; we feel her precisely because we don’t. As she lies lifeless in the street, her personality begs a playback the fast-paced action will not permit. We watch in horror as first one car leaves her, then the other half speeds towards her as though to crush the evidence of her calamitous conclusion by driving straight across her and leaving a pool of unbelievably black blood oozing and oscillating on the tarmac. Such is the departure from the film’s abstracted gentility that the idea alone of this sort of image – regardless of the film’s final fade before it becomes possible – remains with the viewer. While Sontag complains bitterly that the bombastic director destroys the thematic complexity of his piece by allowing Nana’s death to mirror the parable of the ‘poule’, it actually seems to do the exact opposite. It forces Nana to live in our mind’s eye. We recoil from the image despite the fact it never worries our retinas. We instead see Nana in all humanity, philosophy and beauty precisely because God(ard) deprives her – his muse and off-screen wife Anna Karina – of it in those final few frames. By placing herself in that scenario, she is given chance to bear her soul.

She is responsible.

Dr Karen Oughton is an academic and film journalist. Click here for her web site

(Viva Sa Vie is available as a special edition Blu-ray from Criterion. Click here to order from Amazon)

THE PICTURES PICK A PONTIFF: PAPAL CONCLAVES ON FILM

nospam@example.com (Cinema Retro) — Wed, 13 Mar 2013 10:10:09 -0500

The Shoes of the Fisherman

By Mike Malloy

Complex and arcane religious rituals wouldn’t seem to make for good filmed entertainment. And yet, the Vatican’s papal election process – occurring again this week to name a successor to Pope Benedict XVI – has been detailed in cinema almost as many times as the more Hollywood-sounding subject of papal assassination attempts.

And while the workings of the pontifical election conclave might not be surprising in a religious film, they were even deemed dramatic enough for inclusion in The Godfather Part III. Yep, Francis Ford Coppola’s 1990 crime epic takes a break between whackings to portray the 1978 conclave that elected the first Pope John Paul.

But more impressive than the fact that cinema has depicted this process is the fact that, on occasion, the movies seem to have gotten it right. When a papal vacancy isn’t being used as a premise for a goofy comedy (witness 1991’s The Pope Must Diet!), the election process is treated with seeming care and accuracy.

Of course, screenwriters can only base such scenes on the generally accepted consensus of how the election conclave of cardinals works; no press members have ever documented the proceedings first hand. No cameras have been allowed.

“And I’ve never heard of a [conclave member] writing a report of it,” says Bill Ryan, spokesman for the United Conference of Catholic Bishops. Ryan says he assumes screen treatments of the conclave are “working backward from the document,” referring to On the Vacancy of the Apostolic See and the Election of the Roman Pontiff.

But 1968’s The Shoes of the Fisherman, which chronicles the rise of fictional Pope Kiril I (Anthony Quinn), also benefited from the technical consulting of Monsignor Adone Terzariol, an unofficial papal advisor. The film is likely the tastemaking cinematic vision of the conclave, the blueprint for other films’ depiction of the same.

Anthony Quinn in The Shoes of the Fisherman.

Indeed, Shoes of the Fisherman – a twice-over Oscar nominee – presents the pontifical election in fine detail. We see the cardinals locked in the annex of the Sistine Chapel by the Marshal of the Conclave. Ballots are cast, placed onto a plate, then dumped into a chalice. Wet straw is burned with the ballots to produce black smoke, indicating a failure to elect a pontiff on the first few days of voting. Canopies collapse overhead each cardinal not elected pope after the new pontiff has accepted.

Shoes of the Fisherman uses a TV news journalist (played by David Janssen) as its exposition. Janssen’s character is stationed outside St. Peter’s, giving very specific play-by-play analysis. If the dry crime-lab films of the 1950s can be termed “Police Procedurals,” the mid portion of Fisherman is truly a Pontifical Procedural.

Not only does Shoes of the Fisherman capture the rituals of the election in great detail, its election of a fictional Russian pope foretells the coronation of Polish pope John Paul II, the first non-Italian pope in 455 years.

Later films The Pope Must Diet! and The Godfather Part III (neither of which credit a religious technical advisor) seem to have borrowed Fisherman’s vision of the election process.

But The Pope Must Diet!, about a schlubby priest (Robbie Coltrane) who is accidentally coronated as Pope, does serve as a reminder that the elected Pontiff need not be a cardinal attending the conclave.

“It could be any baptized male,” says Ryan. Other reports suggest it can be any adult Roman Catholic.

The Pope Must Diet! covers many of the rituals surrounding a papal succession – at least those rituals that serve as easy fodder for cheap jokes. In Diet, the deceased pope isn’t just tapped on the forehead with the silver papal hammer to determine death, he’s given a good whack. Papal nominations are struck down on the grounds of “He’s too fat!” And the cardinals are wanded with metal detectors before entering the conclave (though this last joke isn’t too far off the truth; the conclave is reportedly screened for bugging devices).

Only the 1984 telefilm Pope John Paul II shows a side of the electoral conclave not covered in Shoes of the Fisherman. The Polish pope-to-be, portrayed by Albert Finney, is seen in his sparsely furnished conclave quarters between election days. Apparently, this is an accurate depiction, as each cardinal has a cell furnished only with a bed, a crucifix, a table and chairs.

But even movies that don’t detail the conclave can raise provocative points about papal succession.

The 1972 film Pope Joan – about a rumored female Pope that snuck in around 855 – is one of several films to feature a papal election but that skips the rituals of the election process (2003’s Luther and 1981’s From a Far Country are others). But when Pope Joan’s infirm pontiff (Trevor Howard) suggests a successor on his deathbed, it raises the question of whether an outgoing pope has ever tried to name his replacement.

“It’s totally in the realm of speculation or fiction,” says Ryan.

As it all might be, considering that only cardinals, sworn to secrecy, have witnessed a papal election conclave. The closest depiction we may ever see is on the screen.

Films Depicting the Papal Enclave

“The Shoes of the Fisherman” (1968), with Anthony Quinn as fictional Pope Kiril I

“Pope John Paul II” (1983), with Albert Finney as Pope John Paul II

“The Godfather Part III” (1990), with Raf Vallone as Pope John Paul

“The Pope Must Diet!” (1991), with Robbie Coltrane as a fictional pope

Films Featuring the Election of a New Pope

“Pope Joan” (1972), with Liv Ullman as rumored female successor to Pope Leo IV

“From a Far Country” (1981), with Cezary Morawski as Pope John Paul II

“Luther” (2003), with Uwe Ochsenknecht as Pope Leo X

"THE NORLISS TAPES": THE CLASSIC 1970S TV MOVIE

nospam@example.com (Cinema Retro) — Wed, 13 Feb 2013 05:38:00 -0600

The folks at Kindertrauma, a web site dedicated to everthing that scared baby boomers as children, has a good tribute to The Norliss Tapes, the 1970s TV movie starring Roy Thinnes and Angie Dickinson. It's sounds intriguing enough for us to order the DVD. To read the article click here.

To order the DVD from the Cinema Retro Amazon Movie Store, click here.

REVIEW: "SILVER LININGS PLAYBOOK" ENJOYABLE, BUT NOT OSCAR-WORTHY

nospam@example.com (Cinema Retro) — Fri, 25 Jan 2013 05:04:00 -0600

By Lee Pfeiffer

Director David O. Russell's Silver Linings Playbook deserves praise, if for nothing else, overcoming the seemingly incomprehensible title and becoming a major box-office success. The film is typical of today's "rom-coms" (romantic comedies, for the uninitiated.) Troubled, attractive young guy. Troubled, attractive young woman. Both meet cute. Both have to interact with lovable, eccentric friends and family members before overcoming seemingly insurmountable obstacles in achieving great goal. Bradley Cooper, progressing very well from low-brow comedies, gives a very fine performance as Pat, a charismatic Philadelphia school teacher who goes bonkers when he discovers his wife getting on in the shower with one of his school colleagues. He goes on a rampage and almost beats the man to death. When we first see him, his mother is checking him out of a psychiatric institution after 8 long months- and against the advice of his doctors. Seems Pat has been bi-polar all along but never knew it, something that strains credibility given the fact that emotionally, he carries more baggage than a cruise ship. (In a completely unbelievable but "cute" plot device, he is sent into a rage every time he hears Steve Wonder singing "My Cherie, Amour"- you know, sort of like that old sketch in which the Three Stooges go ballistic upon hearing "Niagara Falls"). Pat tries to readjust to his dysfunctional family life but it's a rocky road. He is obsessed with winning back his gorgeous wife, who he mistakenly believes is equally determined to revive their marriage. In the process, he has to frequently lock horns with his father (Robert De Niro in very fine form), a reckless gambler and bookmaker who is always only seconds away from financial disaster. The old man is betting the ranch on the outcome of football games in the hopes of fulfilling his dream of opening a small, local restaurant. In the midst of all this chaos, Pat meets Tiffany (Jennifer Lawrence), a vivacious but equally troubled young widow with a history of mental illness. Before you can say "When Harry Met Sally", the two enter a combative relationship that all -too predictably results in a gradual attraction. All of this leads up to a crisis-filled night in which Pat has promised to be Tiffany's dance partner in a local contest that they have to score well enough on to prevent Pat's dad from losing everything he has and, instead, win the bet that will allow him to open his restaurant.

The script of Silver Linings Playbook contains every cliche except, "Hey kids, we can put the show on in a barn!" Yet, it's a feel-good, crowd-pleaser that is just off-beat enough to rise above the level of most romantic comedies. The scene-stealer is Jennifer Lawrence, who fully deserves her Oscar nomination as the bitchy-but-lovable head case whose emotions run up and down like a roller-coaster. She and Cooper make for a fine on-screen couple and watching them deal with their respective eccentricities is one of the film's delights. Director Russell also makes good use of the suburban Philly locations and the cast (particularly De Niro) is especially convincing at making you believe you are intruding on an actual middle-class family's intimate moments. Still, as the movie nears its climactic dance competition sequence, I found myself praying that the script would refreshingly forgo what was shaping up to the be most predictable of endings. Sadly, Russell (who also wrote the screenplay) goes for the low-hanging fruit and employs every mothballed romantic cliche imaginable, complete with love-crazed young guy running after heartbroken girlfriend down a city street adorned with Christmas decorations. There's enough moss on these story elements to make penicillin.

The film is refreshing in the sense that it's one of the few youth-oriented comedies that doesn't rely on vulgarity and gross-out humor. It's definitely a good date movie, but certainly undeserving of a Best Picture Oscar.

REVIEW: "THE MAN WHO SHOOK THE HAND OF VINCENTE FERNANDEZ" STARRING ERNEST BORGNINE

nospam@example.com (Cinema Retro) — Fri, 07 Dec 2012 23:11:43 -0600

By Lee Pfeiffer

Ernest Borgnine's final film, The Man Who Shook the Hand of Vincente Fernandez, opens theatrically with a one-week run at the Laemmle Encino Town Center Theater beginning today. The independent production is a modestly-budgeted family comedy/drama that presents the legendary Oscar-winner with the kind of showcase role that actors in their nineties almost never have. Borgnine makes the most of it, too, giving a terrific and moving performance that earned him the Best Actor award at this year's Newport Film Festival. Written and produced by Elia Petridis, Fernandez centers on Rex Page (Borgnine), a cantankerous old coot given to griping about every aspect of life. He seems oblivious to the fact that he has an adoring wife (June Squibb), a devoted middle-aged daughter (Dale Dickey) and and a worshipful granddaughter (Audrey P. Scott). Rex is frustrated by his failure to fulfill his dream of becoming a big time actor on the silver screen. He once came close to landing the leading role in a spaghetti Western, but lost out to a competing actor. He's spent a lifetime in self-imposed hell, obsessed with watching this B movie and learning every line of dialogue, which he repeats to anyone in his presence. When a health crisis sees the fiercely independent Rex move into a nursing home, a series of incidents motivate him to reevaluate his life. The nursing home is a money mill for corrupt bureaucrats who use the patients as cash cows. It doesn't take Rex long to figure this out and he quickly wears out his welcome by insulting and chastising fellow elderly patients who are part of a click belonging to the corrupt family that owns the facility. He also is abrasive towards the largely Hispanic staff of nurses and orderlies, often referring to them in unflattering racial insults.

The relationship between Rex and his caregivers gradually softens, however, when the young staff members learn that Rex, a former popular DJ, once briefly met and shook the hand of the film's titular character, Vincente Fernandez, a "Mexican Frank Sinatra" who enjoys mythic stature in the Hispanic community. Rex transfixes the staff by telling and retelling his account of this brief meeting in the 1970s. This common bond allows Rex and the staffers to form a mutually respectful relationship that grows stronger by the day. Rex particularly takes a shine to his nurse Solena (stunningly beautiful Carla Ortiz)- and he comes to her defense, saving her from the clutches of would-be molester Dr. Dominguez (Tony Plana), the chief administrator. In a scenario that is a clearly geriatric version of One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest, Rex inspires his young friends to stand up for their rights and take on the oppressive bureaucrats who exploit them. He must also deal with challenges in his own life when his family feels he's been alienating them in favor of his adopted family at the nursing home.

The film contains more than its share of sugary scenes and corny cliches. (The villains are so lacking in any redeeming qualities that they practically twirl their mustaches.) Nevertheless, director Petridis offers Borgnine the finest role he's had in more years than I can remember. He dominates every scene and, ironically for his final film, looks like the picture of good health. Petridis, who must clearly be obsessive about spaghetti westerns himself, cleverly manages to intertwine many aspects of Western movie lore into this contemporary story so that even a card game between Borgnine and a nursing home nemesis is drenched in Leone-like imagery and music. This homage extends to the brilliant title credits which are cleverly derived from the Sergio Leone/Clint Eastwood "Dollars" trilogy. This is a feel good family film that is marred by one easily correctable misjudgment: the insertion of a completely unnecessary expletive said from a mother to her young child. It's wildly out of place in an otherwise uplifting tale for all ages. If director Petridis is wise, he'll exclude this from the video and pay-per-view versions of the film.

I only had the pleasure of meeting Ernest Borgnine once several years ago for an interview for Cinema Retro magazine. He struck me as a warm, honest and kind individual. Thus, perhaps I had a bit more of a personal outlook when viewing Borgnine's final sequence in this film, which Elia Petridis handles brilliantly. It's so touchingly filmed and directed that I was moved to watch it again on the DVD screener. Not since John Wayne's final scene in The Shootist has a legendary actor had a more appropriate on-screen send off.

The Man Who Shook the Hand of Vicente Fernandez is not high art, nor does it pretend to be. However, it is an enjoyable film that refreshingly extolls family values. The supporting cast members are all very talented and a pleasure to watch, but is Ernie Borgnine who justifiably dominates the movie and your memories of it.

TRIBUTE TO WILLIAM CONRAD'S HORROR FILMS

nospam@example.com (Cinema Retro) — Fri, 09 Nov 2012 05:53:00 -0600

Many people remember the portly actor William Conrad for playing the role of detective Cannon in the popular 1970s CBS TV series. However, his long career extended back to playing Marshall Matt Dillon on the radio version of Gunsmoke. There is another often neglected side to his career: his long association with horror films. TCM's Movie Morlock web site examines these films. Click here to read

REVIEW: "EXCUSE ME FOR LIVING" SHOWCASES YOUNG AND VETERAN TALENTS

nospam@example.com (Cinema Retro) — Tue, 09 Oct 2012 11:29:06 -0500

By Lee Pfeiffer

The new romantic comedy ("romcom" for you hipsters) Excuse Me for Living represents the first feature film by Ric Klass, at least in terms of getting any meaningful distribution. (His prior excursion into filmmaking was the little-seen Elliott Fauman, PhD. back in 1990.) The indie movie goes into theatrical release in select theaters nationwide this week. The film traces the tangled relationships between young New Yorkers, with the emphasis focusing on Dan (Tom Pelphrey), a privileged Gen X'er who nonetheless suffers from severe depression and a penchant for self-destructive behavior. When the film opens, we find him about to leap to his death from a bridge. Saved by a cop, he is "sentenced" to a rehab clinic run by a strict, but compassionate psychiatrist (Robert Vaughn), who attempts to form a personal bond with the troubled young man. Dan agrees to join a therapy group comprised entirely of elderly men, each of whom reveals their own personal demons. Dan is accepted by the group, but his rebellious nature gets the better of him. Before long, he's being lured back to his old ways. He sneaks out to attend wild parties at the home of a snobby friend and even starts an affair with his own psychiatrist's daughter. The episodic nature of the film provides both strengths and weaknesses. On the plus side, we're introduced to some interesting characters, well played by a talented cast of largely unknown actors and actresses. Pelphrey is especially good in the lead role, but he gets able assistance from Melissa Archer and Ewa Da Cruz as the femme fatales who wreak havoc on his his troubled mind by offering a continuous string of sexual temptations. On the other hand, Klass, who also wrote the screenplay, introduces so many characters and relationships that the viewer sometimes can't follow who is doing what with whom. Klass doesn't strive for belly laughs, instead concentrates on amusing situations and poignant and often moving dramatic aspects to the storyline. Best of all, he brings together some terrific veteran actors, all seen in their largest big screen roles in years. Vaughn, in particular, makes the most of his considerable screen time, bringing grace and dignity to a complex role. It's great to see him in a lead role on the big screen again. Seinfeld almuni Jerry Stiller (playing a relatively subdued and realistic character) and Wayne Knight are also on hand, along with Christopher Lloyd, whose usual crazy guy shtick is quite amusing. There is also enough mildly kinky sex and scantily-clad women to appeal to guys who might otherwise think this is a chick flick. In fact, it's a smart, witty comedy that should have special appeal to young, urban audiences. The movie also has a rich look to the production design and is crisply photographed and impressively edited.

Excuse Me For Living makes for a fine directorial debut for Klass. Here's hoping he has a second act in the works.

Click here to visit the official web site for the film

REMEMBERING THE "R.C.M.P." (ROYAL CANADIAN MOUNTED POLICE) T.V. SERIES

nospam@example.com (Cinema Retro) — Sun, 29 Jul 2012 17:09:00 -0500

Star Gilles Pelletier in a 1960 publicity photo.

By Harvey Chartrand

In 1959-60, the distinguished Quebec actor Gilles Pelletier (who had earlier appeared in Otto Preminger’s The 13^th Letter and in Alfred Hitchcock’s I Confess) came to Ottawa to shoot 39 episodes of the R.C.M.P. television series, coproduced by Crawley Films, the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation and the British Broadcasting Corporation.

Executive producer F.R. “Budge” Crawley cast Pelletier as Corporal Jacques Gagnier, a Mountie working at a detachment in rural northern Saskatchewan. Interiors were shot on a brand-new soundstage near Ottawa at Old Chelsea, Quebec. Exteriors were filmed in nearby Aylmer, Quebec, and in Outlook, Saskatchewan, which stood in for the fictional western town of Shamattawa, the center of the action of this contemporary adventure series.

Casting a Québécois in the lead role was considered a gutsy move at the time, but Crawley was ahead of the curve in acknowledging the “French fact” on Canadian television, according to Pelletier. (Crawley went on to produce the Oscar-winning 1975 documentary The Man Who Skied Down Everest.) Co-starring in R.C.M.P. as Gagnier’s sidekick Constable Bill Mitchell was Don Francks, later a series regular on La Femme Nikita and co-star in Todd Haynes’ Bob Dylan “biography” I’m Not There.

With all that talent on board, why did R.C.M.P. only last one season? The show was well produced. Crawley partnered with the CBC, the BBC, the Australian Broadcasting Corporation and figured it would be a snap to break into international TV markets, especially in the United States. R.C.M.P. was a crisply-shot, realistic and sometimes extremely violent crime drama which stood in stark contrast to the usual stagebound and fusty Canadian television programming of the time. Influenced by the European neorealist school of filmmaking, the show had the look and feel of a documentary, very convincingly conveying the dismal Canadian ambience (especially in wintertime) and the homegrown criminal element of small-town Canada. R.C.M.P. more than held its own against similar U.S. TV fare.

According to Pelletier, what was overlooked was the fact that the American TV networks, distributors and producers operated like a closed circuit. They weren’t interested in buying a foreign TV series unless they had a hand in its production from the word “go”, and Crawley wouldn’t allow that. He said if they had that kind of control, R.C.M.P. would lose its distinctively Canadian cachet and be like any other American-style series.

Continue reading "REMEMBERING THE "R.C.M.P." (ROYAL CANADIAN MOUNTED POLICE) T.V. SERIES"

REMEMBERING JOHN BOORMAN'S "ZARDOZ"

nospam@example.com (Cinema Retro) — Thu, 26 Jul 2012 05:33:00 -0500

Sean Connery in Zardoz: looking like a pitch man for adult incontinence products!

The pop culture web site Detour has a brief homage to director John Boorman's ill-fated 1973 sci-fi epic Zardoz (referred to by many as Zardoze) The bizarre futuristic tale involved immortality, slavery, sex-obsessed women and The Wizard of Oz. It's the kind of movie that should alarm you if it starts making sense to you. Nevertheless, we have affection for the film and are among those who consider "Boorman's Folly" to be an intriguing, thought-provoking gem. Where else can you see Sean Connery (who replaced Burt Reynolds in the leading role) strutting his stuff in what looks like a red Depends diaper, while Charlotte Rampling runs amok starkers. For more click here

Click here to order Zardoz from the Cinema Retro Amazon Movie Store- only $9.98!

EDGAR ALLAN POE: MOVIE STAR

nospam@example.com (Cinema Retro) — Thu, 26 Apr 2012 05:04:00 -0500

Vincent Price (see here in the 1964 adaptation of The Tomb of Ligeia) collaborated with producer Roger Corman on several successful cinematic translations of Poe's work.

John Cusack's new movie -a fictionalized look at the life of Edgar Allan Poe that presents the famed writer chasing a serial killer- has brought about renewed interest in seeing how the master of the macabre's stories have translated on to cinema screens over the decades (for better or worse). Click here to read New York Times analysis.

CAMERA OBSCURA: HOWARD HUGHES REVIEWS EURO CULT MOVIES

nospam@example.com (Cinema Retro) — Tue, 24 Apr 2012 17:41:00 -0500

Over on his Filmgoers Guide blog, CINEMA RETRO contributor Howard Hughes reviews some Euro-cult rarities from the 1960s and 1970s, including Enzo G. Castellari's Napoleonic comedy The Loves and Times of Scaramouche (1976), with Michael Sarrazin and Ursula Andress
http://filmgoersguide.wordpress.com/2012/04/24/not-tonight-josephine/
The German 'Winnetou' westerns starring Lex Barker and Pierre Brice, including The Treasure of Silver Lake (1962) and Among Vultures (1964)
http://filmgoersguide.wordpress.com/2012/02/03/requiem-apache/
And Marcello Baldi's little-seen Old Testment trilogy - Jacob, the Man Who Fought With God (1963), Saul and David (1964) and The Great Leaders (1965) - some of which was shot in Almeria, southern Spain.
http://filmgoersguide.wordpress.com/2012/02/14/who-was-solomon-king/

IS THATCHER BIOPIC FILLED WITH ERRORS?

nospam@example.com (Cinema Retro) — Sat, 04 Feb 2012 17:12:00 -0600

With The Iron Lady opening in the UK, Daily Mail writer Chris Tookey acknowledges Meryl Streep's acclaimed performance as Margaret Thatcher. However, he says the film suffers from a simplified look at her actual career and accomplishments. Tookey says her most notable achievements are given brief mention while speculative or rather inconsequential aspects of her life are given prominence in the script. Tookey seems to be writing from a distinctly Tory point of view ("She deserves to be studied because she was right about so many things, and carried out her public duties despite hysterical abuse from most of the political and media establishment"), so your own political leanings may influence whether you agree or disagree with his assessment. Click here to read

STEVE SARAGOSSI EXAMINES THE LITTLE-SEEN PAUL NEWMAN SPY MOVIE, "THE MACKINTOSH MAN"

nospam@example.com (Cinema Retro) — Sun, 29 Jan 2012 05:22:00 -0600

RETRO-ACTIVE: THE BEST FROM CINEMA RETRO'S ARCHIVES

(This article originally ran in October 2008)

In the wake of Paul Newman’s death I’ve been watching a few of his movies over again, and in some cases, watching some of his films for the first time.

For an avowed admirer of 60s and 70s films, and thrillers especially, I was surprised that I had never seen The Mackintosh Man (1973) before. I was very familiar with it in the context of Newman’s canon, and films in general, and I remember it opening, but for some reason it had passed me by until today.

Well, truth be told, there’s good reasons for that. It’s not a bad film per se, but you can see why its not part of the common cultural currency of 70s movies.

The story involves a British Intelligence spy working deep undercover and known only to his chief – Mr Mackintosh – hence being a Mackintosh man - and attempting to bring to book a corrupt MP. The means by which he does this (faking a diamond robbery in order to go to jail, so as to attract the attention of a mysterious firm who can spring him and a high level prisoner with links to the said MP) are contrived the point of hilarity.

But the pedigree is good, great even. Directed by John Huston, with a script co-written by Walter Hill from a novel by Desmond Bagely one could reasonably expect a memorable and exciting yarn. With a supporting cast to die for including James Mason, Harry Andrews, Ian Bannen, Nigel Patrick, Peter Vaughan and Michael Horden, its always interesting , but only from a social and culturally historic perspective. If you ever wanted to see Paul Newman wander round early 70s London, hopping on tube trains and round Leather Lane market (with actual market goers trying very hard and failing to stop and gawk at the Hollywood royalty walking amongst them), or even slopping out in Liverpool with John Bindon from Get Carter, then this is the film for you. What 1973 audiences would have made of it is anyone’s guess. The convoluted plot and intentionally slow pace would have left the most hardened thriller fan napping. There are practically no markers that this is directed by the same man that gave us The Maltese Falcon, The Asphalt Jungle and Chinatown; its so pedestrian as to resemble an episode of The Saint, which apparently, according to IMDB, this film is almost a carbon-copy of one such episode.

The Mackintosh Man is the dictionary definition of a film which survives on star power alone. On paper this could quite easily have been filler on the bottom half of a double bill, and had starred someone like Ian McShane or Bradford Dillman without changing anything in the script. As it is, Newman brings effortless professionalism to the proceedings, and even manages to adapt, chameleon-like to his drab and everyday surroundings, a little like Sean Connery in The Offence.

If you’ve never seen it, the tone in the first half of the film veers between Frenzy, The Ipcress File and Porridge. But after the jailbreak the tone shifts into almost Bondian territory, or at the very least an episode of The Avengers with the introduction of Jenny Runacre’s Gerda, a kind of taller version of OHMSS’s Irma Bunt with her mute henchman (I kid ye not)Taafe played by Percy Herbert. This scenario is almost played for laughs and culminates with perhaps cinema's only onscreen kick in the female crotch by a male character.

Dominique Sanda glides through the film with a single blank expression her face from start to finish, which doesn’t help in a scene where James mason spikes her drink. It took quite few moments to spot that she was trying to act like someone who’ s lost most of her higher motor functions.

Ultimately, any enjoyment one can derive from this film is in watching a mid-career Newman in a film featuring authentic locations with a sterling, if underused cast. It’s a sombre film in tone, with only a few flashes of action, notably a very realistic motor chase along bleak Irish roads, and a foot chase across moors which resembles Newman’s flight from the prison guards and dogs in Cool Hand Luke. The film reeks of “contractural obligation”, but at the end of the day I’m glad I’ve finally seen it, and will probably revisit again. Maybe.

At the moment its only available as part of a Warner Region 1 Newman Box set, but its worth getting as it includes Harper, The Drowning Pool, Pocket Money, The Young Philadelphians and The Left-Handed Gun, all under-appreciated films. - Steve Saragossi

CLICK HERE TO ORDER THE PAUL NEWMAN COLLECTION BOXED DVD SET