The 2021 Oscar nominations have been announced. Because of the pandemic, films that premiered on streaming services were eligible for the nominations as long as the productions had originally been intended for theatrical release.

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Cinema Retro has received the following press release relating to the Region 2 UK release:

Eureka Entertainment to release a 1970s Killer creature double feature of NIGHTWING & SHADOW OF THE HAWK, on Blu-ray for the first time in the UK, presented as part of the Eureka Classics range from 15 March 2021. The first print run of 2000 copies will feature a Limited-Edition Collector’s Booklet.

Are a wave of mysterious deaths on a Native American reservation being caused by killer vampire bats, or a curse from beyond the grave? Featuring special effects work by Carlo Rambaldi (Alien, E.T. the Extra Terrestrial), Nightwing was one of many creature features produced to cash in on the success of Jaws, but director Arthur Hiller (Love Story) also imbues the film with a humanitarian edge. Described in recent years as an “eco-gothic Western”, and “a great exploration of social change and race relations”, Nightwing comes to Blu-ray for the first time ever in the UK. 

An ageing medicine man (Academy Award nominee Chief Dan George; The Outlaw Josey Wales) recruits his sceptical grandson (Jan-Michael Vincent; Airwolf, The Mechanic) to aid him in a spiritual battle against evil spirits and black magic. Filmed in the forests of British Columbia to stunning effect, Shadow of the Hawk features a number of eerie and effective sequences of supernatural terror, and Eureka Classics is proud to present the film on Blu-ray for the first time ever on home video in the UK.  

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BY LEE PFEIFFER

J.B. Priestly's much-loved play "An Inspector Calls" premiered in 1945. It went on to be a perennial on the stage in London's West End and even enjoyed two productions on Broadway. Additionally, it was brought to the screen in 1954 under the direction of Guy Hamilton with Alastair Sim in the titular role of the inspector. The BBC's well-received 2015 adaptation of the play is now available for streaming on Amazon Prime. It boasts an outstanding cast, a fine script and admirable direction by Aisling Walsh. To a degree, the story plays out very much in the style of a traditional Agatha Christie mystery in that it concerns the arrival of a detective to interrogate a group of rich snobs about the recent death of an indigent young woman. However, the play isn't a whodunnit because we learn early in the story that none of the snobs being interrogated murdered her, as she committed suicide. Then what is the angle here? Ah, that would be telling. As with all films of this type, the less said in terms of providing details, the better it is for the viewer. Thus, here are basics: the story is set in London in 1912. Arthur Birling (Ken Stott) is a rich industrialist who has heard he is on the short list for knighthood. He is throwing a dinner party in honor of his daughter Sheila's (Chloe Pirrie) engagement to her equally rich beau, Gerald Croft (Kyle Sotter). Also in attendance is the family matriarch, Arthur's wife Sybil (Miranda Richardson) and their son Eric (Finn Cole), who is Sheila's younger brother. The family is in a jovial mood. Business has been good and Arthur assumes it will be even better once his daughter marries Gerald, whose father is a potential business partner. The wine is flowing and the cigarettes and cigars are being passed when the maid announces the inexplicable late night appearance of a new local police inspector, Goole (David Thewlis), who announces he is there to interview all present about the tragic suicide of Eva Smith (Sophie Rundel). Each of the party attendees professes ignorance of her existence but as the dour inspector presses on, shocking information is revealed that will quickly dispel the upbeat atmosphere and thrust the family into a potentially ruinous crisis. Unlike a Christie tale, however, this one contains a criticism of societal inequities that one might associate with the works of Dickens. However, it never becomes preachy, just thought-provoking.

Director Walsh wisely minimizes exterior sequences and confines most of the action to the dining room where the increasingly tense and uncomfortable evening plays out. Each member of the cast is excellent but David Thewlis is mesmerizing as the unorthodox detective and Ken Stott is a standout among standouts as the snooty, blustery patriarch. The film ends on a note that may seem unsatisfying to some and seems tailored to make you debate what you just saw with a fellow viewer. It's ambiguity turns out to be an asset, once reflected upon.

Writing on the Den of Geek web site, David Crow provides an in-depth and fascinating look at the origins and history of Universal's "Wolf Man" films- and how they became the forerunner of the "shared universe" concept that paired popular villains and/or heroes in the same movie. Click here to read.

Cinema Retro has received the following press release from Turner Classic Movies.

Turner Classic Movies Presents Annual Film Festival May 6 – 9 on TCM and HBO Max

60th Anniversary Screening of West Side Story Opens Festival with Stars Rita Moreno, George Chakiris and Russ Tamblyn

Virtual Event to Air More than 80 Films, Custom Programming and Special Events

Shemp Howard was born on this date in 1895. To commemorate the comedic genius of the great man, we can relish his 1947 Three Stooges short "Brideless Groom", one of the zany trio's best.

“THE FLOP THAT WASN’T”

By Raymond Benson

Most folks today may be familiar with The Producers, the Broadway musical comedy that ran for years, toured around the globe, and elicited laughter and joy for audiences of all ages. There are likely less people today who have experienced the original 1967 film upon which the successful musical is based. For decades, though, the movie was all we had.

In the mid-sixties, Mel Brooks was a successful television writer, having worked on hilarious comedies with Sid Caesar, among other works, and later the co-creator of Get Smart. Brooks then came up with what was first intended to be a novel, then a play, and finally a screenplay called Springtime for Hitler—an outrageous satire lampooning the Nazis. The Hollywood producers to whom Brooks pitched the piece were appalled. No audience would accept a “comedy” about Hitler. Fortunately, one producer, Sidney Glazier, got the joke and agreed to take on the project. Brooks had never directed before, but he convinced Glazier that the producer would save money if he allowed the screenwriter himself to direct. Realizing he was taking a big chance already, Glazier agreed on the condition that the title be changed. The script became The Producers.

The story concerns an unscrupulous has-been Broadway producer named Max Bialystock (Zero Mostel) who seduces little old ladies to get them to “invest” in his productions, which always fail. His accountant, Leo Bloom (Gene Wilder), realizes that Bialystock would make more money with a flop than with a successful show. The two men team up to produce the worst Broadway show ever seen in New York. This odd couple buys the rights of a play called Springtime for Hitler, written by neo-Nazi numbskull playwright Frank Liebkind (Kenneth Mars). They hire the worst Broadway director ever, Roger De Bris (Christopher Hewett), and cast the completely incompetent and spacey Lorenzo St. DuBois (Dick Shawn), known as “L.S.D.” to his friends in the lead role as Hitler. The producers are off and running.

The movie had its premiere in Pittsburgh in late 1967 and was a disaster. The audience didn’t get it. The studio, Embassy Pictures, wanted to pull the movie and not release it. It was destined to be a flop that never even opened. Leave it to Peter Sellers to come to the rescue. Sellers had originally been considered for the part of Leo Bloom, but for some reason he was nowhere to be found when the time came to officially cast the picture. Nevertheless, he saw a screening of The Producers and published a review in Variety that praised the movie. Embassy then had second thoughts, and the film opened for a national run in March 1968 (thereby qualifying it for the ’68 Oscars).

The Producers was controversial at first. There were mixed reviews, including many big-name critics who trashed the film. But others, like Sellers, saw the genius of the comedy, and enthusiastically recommended it. Brooks’ flop became a hit, and over the years grew to be a cult favorite that epitomized the type of movie for which Brooks became known in the 1970s.

Granted, looking back at The Producers today, a viewer may not be in for a totally smooth ride. The film is indeed clunky and somewhat amateurishly directed. The acting can be sometimes abrasive. More disconcerting are the moments of politically incorrectness that were intentional—but funny—at the time… today, however, they are not only politically incorrect but also possibly offensive (not the Nazi stuff, but rather the blatant sexism and lampooning of homosexual and trans characters). Nevertheless, this is classic Mel Brooks material, and he has never been one to treat an audience with kid gloves.

For the record, Brooks won the Oscar for Best Original Screenplay.

Rare British advertisement featuring Peter Sellers' praise for the film. (Photo: Cinema Retro Archive)

Both Zero Mostel and Gene Wilder are over the top and are mostly wonderfully manic in their performances. Wilder, especially, displays a solid gold persona that was new to the screen (he was nominated for a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for his portrayal). In fact, everyone in the movie chews the scenery, but the ensemble fits with the outrageousness of the proceedings.

Kino Lorber’s new Blu-ray restoration looks the best this reviewer has ever seen The Producers on home video—much improved over the previous DVD release. There is an informed audio commentary by filmmaker/historian Michael Schlesinger that goes into the picture’s history and antics. Supplements are ported over from previous home video releases: an hour-long “making of” documentary that is quite good; an outtake sequence; a gallery of design sketches; a short video of filmmaker Paul Mazursky reading Peter Sellers’ Variety review; a radio spot; and theatrical trailers for this and other Kino Lorber releases.

The Producers may be a relic of its time, but it is gem that its fans will always adore. The Springtime for Hitler production sequence is comedy gold and is worth the price of admission. Mel Brooks would indeed become more accomplished as a filmmaker, but there is no question that The Producers was the milestone that assured him a career in feature films.

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BY TIM MCGLYNN

“What does he care if the land ain’t free?”

The Warner Archive has done itself proud with their new release of MGM’s splendid 1951 production of Showboat. This Technicolor spectacular is actually the third film version of the Jerome Kern/Oscar Hammerstein classic, which is based on a novel by Edna Ferber. The Freed unit at MGM pulled out all the stops for this effort and cast Kathryn Grayson, Howard Keel, Ava Gardner, Joe E. Brown, Agnes Moorehead, Marge and Gower Champion and William Warfield in this turn- of -the last century story set in the deep South.

Cap’n Andy and his wife Parthy use their paddle Wheeler, the Cotton Blossom, to put on shows up and down the Mississippi River. Their daughter, Magnolia, dreams of playing a part but is discouraged by her strict mother. One day a charming, but down and out gambler named Gaylord comes looking for work as an actor. He and Magnolia immediately fall in love.

At first there is no work, but a spurned lover turns in leading lady Julie, who has been passing as white, on a miscegenation charge. She and leading man Steve, her husband, are forced to leave the show. And now, in the type of plot twist that can only happen in musicals, Gaylord and Magnolia become lovers both on and off stage. As Joe maintains the Cotton Blossom, we are treated to a plot of money won and lost, the birth of a child, the effects of alcoholism and the heartbreak of loss and redemption.

Under the guidance of veteran director George Sidney, working from a script by John Lee Mahin, this version of Showboat concentrates on the love story and glosses over many of the racial undertones of the previous films.

In 1936 Universal produced a black and white version of Showboat that adhered more closely to the stage play. Directed by James Whale and produced by Carl Laemmle, Jr. and starring Irene Dunne, Helen Morgan, Paul Robeson, Allan Jones and Hattie McDaniel, this earlier film presented more of the harsh reality of the racial divides of that era. At one point Ms. Dunne, as Magnolia, performed Gallavantin’ Around in blackface as part of the onboard show.

George Sidney’s Showboat, true to the MGM musical formula, celebrates the Kern/Hammerstein songs and the extravagant production numbers choreographed by Robert Alton. Several of these dances featured future choreographer and director Gower Champion and his very talented wife Marge. Life Upon the Wicked Stage is an especially impressive effort by these two.

With the exception of a few riverfront scenes staged near Nacthez, MS, all filming took place at the studios and backlots of MGM. A working paddle wheeler was constructed and launched into the lake that was once used for the Johnny Weismuller Tarzan movies. Built on top of a barge, the boat was towed by underwater cables allowing it to stop on a mark for the dance numbers.

The costumes, production numbers and sets burst forth with all of the brightness that Technicolor consultant Henri Jaffa would allow. The sharpness of the Blu-ray edition brings out amazing detail in the texture of the clothing and backgrounds. The eyes of the actors sparkle in a fashion we have not seen prior to this release. The happiness and optimism of Kathryn Grayson as Magnolia, the world-weary look of Ava Garner’s Julie and the seen-it-all soulfulness of William Warfield as Joe are apparent in their faces and their eyes.

The sound is clear and full ranged during the musical numbers with all dialogue and singing mixed loud enough to hear even at lower volumes. Although not indicated on the Blu-ray sleeve, this edition of Showboat has two sound options. The original mono track as heard in the original theatrical release, and there is a second 2.0 stereo mix, as well. As noted on the Rhino/TCM release of the CD soundtrack, several microphones were employed for the orchestra during the recording sessions and discrete channels were produced from each. These separate tracks were mixed to create a wrap around stereo effect for the orchestral score and accompaniments for the songs.

William Warfield noted in his autobiography, My Music & My Life, that for the recordings the orchestra was not set up in traditional concert formation. Instruments were placed in small groups around mics to best achieve a proper balance for the soundtrack. He also commented on the process of filming with pre-recorded music on set. “To lip-synch convincingly onscreen, you have to show the same physical strain – the same veins, the same tendons, the same air pressure in the cheeks, the same flair of the nostrils – as you’d see with a singer really singing the song.” This was very apparent in his rendition of the classic song Ol’ Man River as the last verse is presented with a very slow tracking shot closing in on his face.

I found it interesting that playback for all musical numbers during filming was accomplished by the use of 78 rpm records.

Another aspect of lip-synching was filming a music selection sung by someone other than the actor. Ava Gardner pre-recorded her song Can’t Help Loving That Man of Mine, but at the last minute the producers switched her voice for Annette Warren’s. While the reason wasn’t clear, it made filming a challenge for Ms. Gardner as she had speaking lines within the song and had to adjust accordingly. Curiously, the MGM soundtrack album for Showboat utilized Ms. Gardner’s version of this song and her other number, Bill.

BY TODD GARBARINI

The late Arthur Barron was a New York-based documentary film director perhaps best known for his two-hour Birth and Death film from 1969, followed by the true story of the Wright Brothers and their road to flight. Following these projects but prior to delving into made-for-television documentary fare in the mid-1970’s, he tried his hand at feature filmmaking, employing similar documentary-style techniques that William Friedkin used to startling effect in his masterful 1971 film The French Connection. Instead of following around two police detectives hot on the trail of heroin smugglers, however, Mr. Barron instead turned his attention to a dramatic subject that, almost unbelievably, was for the most part untapped at the time. His feature film directorial debut is the teenage coming-of-age romantic drama filmed in the autumn of 1972 called Jeremy, starring actor Robby Benson as the titular hero and Glynnis O’Connor in her debut role as the girl who catches his eye and ultimately wins his heart.

Jeremy Jones is by no means a stud, nor is he a complete nerd or outcast in the high school sense of the word. He seems to fall somewhere in between, having been born into a life that is both spirited and adventurous. He plays the cello in the school band and wins admiration but also (tender) criticism from his music tutor (Leonardo Cimino); he plays on the school basketball team; he walks dogs for extra money; he even has a knack for picking winning horses at the racetrack but cannot bet because he is too young. While running an errand for his music teacher, Jeremy catches sight of a new girl in school who has arrived from Detroit following her father’s (Ned Wilson) fallout from his job. He’s a big shot and they live a privileged life on Park Avenue off of 73^rd Street in Manhattan at a time when it was affordable to do so. She’s a petite beauty (Glynnis O’Connor) whom he sees practicing dance moves. She bears a bit of a resemblance to how Linda Blair looks in William Friedkin’s The Exorcist (1973). Jeremy is instantly smitten and cannot get her out of his head but forgets to ask her name. His best friend Ralph is someone whom he confides in and Ralph is unconventionally understanding and patient, doing his best to give him advice on how to approach the girl following their initial encounter. Jeremy follows her to a record store on West 49^th Street in New York, just to get a glimpse of her. Another meeting following his accolades for his work in a school recital reveals her name as Susan. The film captures the awkwardness of making The First Phone Call, something relegated to the side of the road today in the age of cell phones, text messages, social media, and Tumblr.

Jeremy and Susan begin dating and quickly fall madly in love with one another the way that care-free adolescents can at a pivotal time in their lives prior to the rigors and responsibilities that inevitably befall them following the onset of adulthood. Jeremy’s parents are sort of wrapped up in their own world. His mother grows impatient over her husband’s inability to agree with her over choosing the color of tiles. In fact, all the adults appear to be too busy for much of anything other than running on the wheel of the rat race.

Jeremy is a breath of fresh air and the lack of teasing and bullying from fellow students is a welcome relief. What you get is one of the most honest and moving depictions of high school life ever committed to film, although the fairy tale view of New York is a little bit questionable as there is no mention of the Watergate Scandal or the Vietnam War. New York at the time of filming was even more dangerous than it is now. Lee Holdridge composes a score that is romantic and effective and provides the perfect balm to the film’s inevitable and heartbreaking ending which, though bittersweet, thankfully isn’t the knife-to-the-heart agony felt by the protagonist in Piers Haggard’s A Summer Story (1988). Look fast for James Karen of the old Pathmark commercials as Frank in a cameo in the Monopoly board game scene hosted by Susan’s aunt. This occurs 75 minutes into the film. His voice is unmistakable. You may also remember him as Craig T. Nelson’s boss Mr. Teague in 1982’s Poltergeist.

Director Barron would go on to helm the humorous ABC Afterschool Special “It Must Be Love (‘Cause I Feel So Dumb)” which aired on Wednesday, October 8, 1975 and starred the charming Alfred Lutter III of Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore (1974) fame. This short is worth seeking out as it contains hi-jinks characteristic of kids finding their way in the world. A quick YouTube search will reveal the truncated Learning Corporation of America (LCA) version that made the rounds in middle schools across the country. The longer ABC-TV cut is more elusive.

We admire any critic who bravely defends the merits of a much-maligned film- and films don't get much more maligned than the ill-fated, often mocked 1996 remake of "The Island of Dr. Moreau" starring Marlon Brando in the most bizarre performance of his career. Writing for The Guardian, Zach Vasquez outlines the legendary production problems that contributed to the travails of completing the movie and he acknowledges its many shortcomings. However, Vasquez still sees some gold in them thar ruins and presents his case as to why the film has enough merits to recommend it for viewing. Click here to read.

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BY TODD GARBARINI

If the title Killdozer is familiar to you, you may have seen it before. Originally a novella by Theodore Sturgeon published in the November 1944 issue of Astounding Science Fiction magazine, a Marvel Comics book in April 1974, and later appearing in The Mammoth Book of Golden Age: Ten Classic Stories from the Birth of Modern Science Fiction Writing (1989), Killdozer was adapted into a made-for-TV movie which aired on Saturday, February 2, 1974. Sporting the tagline “Six men…playing a deadly game of cat and mouse…With a machine that wants to kill them,” and billed as A World Premiere ABC Saturday Suspense Movie, there is little suspense in this overly silly tale of a Caterpillar D9 that is enlisted by a team of construction workers who have been assigned to build a landing strip for an oil drilling company on an island near Africa. Were it not for the movie’s literary origins, I would have sworn that it was an attempt to rip-off Steven Spielberg’s Duel (1971).

Kelly (Clint Walker), the project’s foreman, and bulldozer driver Mack (Robert Urich) uncover a meteorite which was buried many years prior – shades of “Who Goes There?”, the 1938 novella by John W. Campbell and later the inspiration for the 1951 and 1982 film versions of The Thing. The strange sound emitting from the object fails to deter the men from attempting to move the meteorite, a decision which proves to be fatal to Mack who dies several hours later as a result of radioactive material emanating from the foreign object. In the company of these men is a mechanic name Chub (Neville Brand) who fails to ascertain why the bulldozer has been rendered inoperative; it is swiftly barred from further use. In comes genius Beltran (James A. Watson, Jr.) who forgoes the caveat and puts the D9 back to work. Unfortunately, the bulldozer becomes sentient and has a life of its own, going on a rampage to destroy their only radio communications a la Quint in Jaws (1975), and then it turns into Agatha Christie’s Ten Little Indians until the film’s silly finale.

The decision to make Killdozer into a film may have been inspired by the publication of the Stephen King short story “Trucks” which appeared in the June 1973 issue of Cavalier, a men’s magazine. Mr. King later directed this as Maximum Overdrive (1986) in the fall of 1985. Killdozer is a bit of a dozer in 2021 but lovers of television films of the era of the 1970s will find much to admire here: the technology of the time, the neat musical score by Gil Mellé, the possessed titular “creature”, and the performances of the lead actors.

Kino Lorber continues their track record of releasing nifty and semi-forgotten titles on Blu-ray, and Killdozer is now available. This Blu-ray release contains:

A brand new 2K transfer, and the film image is very clean.

There is an audio commentary by film historian Lee Gambin and film critic Jarret Gahan. This is an excellent and informative listen and is truly the reason to spring for this release, even if you’re on the fence about the actual film itself.

There is an audio interview with director Jerry London that runs just over twenty-two minutes wherein he discusses making the film.

There is also a stills gallery and a set of trailers for Fear No Evil (1969), Ritual of Evil (1970), More Dead Than Alive (1969) and Sam Whiskey (1969).

The disc also includes optional English subtitles.

There have been several real-life incidents with near impenetrable vehicles commandeered for ill-purposes with terribly sad and tragic results. On May 17, 1995, a military veteran named Shawn Nelson had suffered many personal tragedies and stole an M603A Patton Tank and drove it through the streets of San Diego, CA, wreaking havoc before being shot and killed. Some years later, fifty-one-year-old Marvin Heemeyer, an avid snowmobiler, welder and automobile muffler repair shop owner, was living in Granby, CO and got into a dispute with a company wanting to build a concrete batch plant near his property. Push came to shove following many acrimonious townhall meetings and arguments with the concrete company that were either real or imagined depending on whom you speak with. Mr. Heemeyer, inspired by the vigilante Vin Diesel action film A Man Apart (2003) and passionately believing that God sanctioned him to do so, purchased a Komatsu D355 bulldozer and modified it undetected over 18 months into an armored behemoth outfitted with thick steel and cameras. On June 4, 2004, he bulldozed his way through town, destroying the main building of the concrete batch plant and caused seven million dollars’ worth of damage in a two-hour rampage until he was ultimately stopped by a leaking radiator and an error in judgement, electing to shoot himself rather than be taken into custody. A well-made documentary was made about this horrible event called Tread (2020). It was directed by Paul Solet. Strangely, no mention of Killdozer is ever made during the 88-minute documentary.

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BY JOHN M. WHALEN

In “Wings of the Hawk” (1953), Van Heflin stars as Irish Gallagher, an American mining for gold down in Mexico. He and his partner Marco (Mario Siletti) are ripped off by local military ruler Coronel Paco Ruiz (George Dolenz), who takes over the mine and kills Marco. Irish barely manages to escape on horseback and is rescued by insurrectionists led by Raquel Noriega (Julia Adams), who gets a bullet in the shoulder for her trouble. Irish patches her up in exchange for his freedom and romance rears its ugly head. Jealousy also flares when revolutionary leader Arturo Torres (Rudolpho Acosta), who had been her lover, sees what’s going on. Enter Pascual Orozco (Noah Beery, Jr.) who asks for Arturo’s help in taking Ciudad Juarez. They’ll need $5,000 to buy 200 rifles but the revolutionaries have no money. However, they come up with a brainstorm. They’ll steal $5,000 in gold from Irish’s mine, which is now under Coronel Ruiz’s control. Irish must be gaga over Raquel because he agrees to go along with it, “as long as I get my money back later.” There’s a lot of shooting after that, chases on horseback, and a firing squad kills some villagers.

It’s all crammed in to a fast-paced 81 minutes, leaving little time for reflection or character development for that matter. Julia Adams, most famous as Kay, the beauty who lures the Creature out of the Black Lagoon, is always a delight to see on screen, but her performance as Raquel goes no deeper than the Mexican makeup painted on her face and the black hair pieces tacked on her head. Heflin gives his usual solidly rugged performance as the Irish miner-turned-revolutionary, and George Dolenz (father of Monkee Micky Dolenz) is sufficiently snide as the local gendarme, but there is little heat generated by any of them in the on- screen proceedings.

This is not to say that “Wings of the Hawk” should be dismissed as just another run-of-the-mill fifties western. Kino Lorber’s Blu-Ray is noteworthy for several reasons. First of all, historically, it was only the second feature film to be released by Universal International in 3-D, and the first to adopt the 1.85:1 aspect ratio, which became the standard for all non-Cinemascope films made since then. It’s also one of the first “Mexican Westerns,” that is, a western about an American cowboy caught in the midst of the Mexican Revolution. Other such include “Vera Cruz,” “Viva Villa,”, “The Professionals” and the most notable of them all, “The Wild Bunch.” It was also the last of nine films that Cult Director Budd Boetticher did under contract for Universal between 1952 and 1953. Boetticher achieved his cult status for a series of seven westerns he did later for Columbia shortly after that, between 1956 and 1960. Known as the “Ranown Cycle” of films, because they starred Randolph Scott and were produced by Joe Brown. “Seven Men from Now”(1956), “Ride Lonesome” (1959), “The Tall T” (1957), and “Comanche Station” (1960), among others, are some of the greatest cinematic achievements of this or any other time. Not just films, they are truly works of a certain kind of art.

“Wings of the Hawk,” is not filmmaking on that level. Boetticher had not yet perfected his vision, nor achieved the clout to make films his own way. But as the jumping off point from turning out formulaic studio fare to creating individualistic masterpieces, glimmers of what was to come are evident. Most prominent are the relationships between the three male characters. In all of Boetticher’s best films there is a contest between what can best be described as “men of stature. In “The Tall T” Randolph Scott is pitted against Richard Boone. The two stand out against the weaker men in the story, including Boone’s outlaw gang, and the cowardly fiancé of one of the female passengers on a stagecoach. In “Seven Men from Now” Scott faced Lee Marvin, the baddest of the bad. In “Comanche Station” Scott faced off against Claude Akins, who stood taller than either of the two gunmen who rode with him. As film historian Jeremy Arnold notes in his audio commentary provided on a separate audio track, in all of these films, the Randolph Scott character could just as easily switched places with his antagonist. They’re both the same kind of man. Arnold says the difference is that one is weak and the other strong. I disagree with that assessment. I think the difference is that one has maintained his stature as a man to be looked up to, and the other has let himself down somewhere along the way.

In “Wings of the Hawk,” Boetticher did not really develop the conflict between Irish, Ruiz and Arturo as fully as he would with the antagonists in the later films, but elements of it are there, if you look close enough. It’s interesting to see the embryonic Boetticher at work.

Kino Lorber’s Blu Ray contains both 2-D and 3-D versions of the movie from 2K Scans of the left and Right Eye Interpositive. The picture is generally good, but some scenes are too dark, and others a bit too grainy. Color is by Technicolor and the transfer goes a good job preserving the original look of the film. Clifford Stine’s 3-D cinematography is rather stunning in the way it emphasized picture depth over the gimmicky hurling of stones, and bodies at the 3-D audience. Many action shots feature deep focus of riders on horseback coming toward the camera from a great distance, while actors and stunt men move about at various distances in between riders and camera. Another impressive shot has a knife being lowered slowly on a rope from a skylight. Even at 2-D the knife almost seems to float out from the screen.

Frank Skinner’s soundtrack has a lot of Mexican flare, and is presented on the disc in what is described by KL as “High Dynamic Range Theatrical Mix plus 5.1 Surround Sound.” Bonus features include the audio commentary by Jeremy Arnold (which I can’t recommend highly enough, for all the detailed information he imparts), and a 3-D Woody Woodpecker cartoon. “Wings of the Hawk,” is another important film restoration by Kino Lorber of a bygone era of filmmaking, the likes of which we’ll never see again.

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(John M. Whalen is the author of "Vampire Siege at Rio Muerto". Click here to order from Amazon.)

BY MATT DAVEY

Released in 1971, ‘Red Sun’ is an enthralling Western starring Charles Bronson, Toshiro Mifune, Alain Delon and Ursula Andress. Bronson and Delon lead a group of bandits to rob a train, but get more than they bargained for as they discover the train is transporting a Japanese delegation featuring Mifune, who is guarding a priceless ceremonial sword, a gift from the Emperor of Japan meant for the President of the United States. Delon steals the sword and leaves co-conspirator Bronson for dead. Mifune and Bronson team up to make an unlikely alliance in search of Delon and the stolen sword.

“For the disgrace of failure, he will rip his abdomen and kill himself” roars the Japanese ambassador as he tries to solder Link (Bronson) and Kuroda Jubei (Mifune) into the unlikeliest good cop/bad cop routine you’re ever likely to witness. “Well, that’s something I’d like to see!” retorts the eagled eyed, moustached loner Link, who moments earlier had been left for dead after the left-handed gun Gauche (Delon) fancied a bigger share of the riches from the robbery. ‘Red Sun’ may display many of the conventional Western characteristics – robbery goes wrong and a manhunt ensues – but its international flavour is unlike any other film of this genre that’s been put on screen to date.

It’s very rare that the co-lead of an American Western is a stoic Japanese sword and sandal figure, but the very fact that Bronson and Mifune should appear on screen together at all has more meaning than the average cinephile might think. Mifune appeared in the 1954 classic ‘Seven Samurai’, directed by Akira Kurosawa – and Bronson appeared in the Western remake ‘The Magnificent Seven’ directed by John Sturges, who had recently enjoyed success with genre hits ‘Gunfight at the O.K. Corral’, ‘The Law and Jake Wade’ and ‘Last Train from Gun Hill’. Both Bronson and Mifune played their parts in two of the most influential films of the era, so the fact that they appeared on screen together is significant. ‘Red Sun’ is a totally original story that might have seemed too bizarre to succeed, but given the two leads’ history, it’s a perfect film to showcase their combined talents.

Director Terence Young captures with ease the hostile and unforgiving landscape of the tactile terrain (filmed in Andalucía, Spain), as Maurice Jarre’s musical score transports you into the picture. Throughout Young’s filmography, ranging from the early Bond films to his transition to Hollywood working with commanding lead actors like Henry Fonda, Anthony Quinn and Lee Marvin, he gives lower-budget B movies gravitas. (He had collaborated with Charles Bronson a few years earlier on ‘The Valachi Papers’.) The plot of ‘Red Sun’ feels deliberately engineered for Bronson and Mifune and has something of a fantasy cast list. However, it never feels detached from reality and the resulting consequences of the characters’ actions feel meaningful, even though on the printed page, the scenarios might have appeared to be ludicrous.

Link and Jubei are chalk and cheese; Bronson is witty and Mifune is much more strait- laced, amusingly so when trying to comprehend the comedic dialogue just served to him on a plate by Bronson. The most memorable scenes of film occur when Link and Jubei are reluctantly travelling together in search of the Japanese ambassador’s ceremonial sword as they squabble like children and engage in some comedic faux fighting. Bronson’s character Link accompanies Jubei to retrieve the ceremonial sword with his own agenda in mind. After being left for dead by Gauche (Delon) and his men, Link aims to find his share of the train robbery proceeds, but in order to do that he needs to find Gauche and take him alive. However, Jubei wants him dead due to the dishonour and trouble he’s caused. All of this reaches a boiling point in the film’s final act. If you know your Bronson movies, you know it’s never a good idea to leave him for dead…it’s just not going to end well for the antagonist.

Legendary director and actor John Huston claimed that ‘Red Sun’ was among the three best Westerns ever made, alongside 1948’s ‘Red River’ and John Ford’s ‘Stagecoach’. Huston certainly has an interesting take. Would ‘Red Sun’ finish anywhere my own personal list of the top 10 Westerns ever made, let alone top three? No. I enjoy the film very much and find it particularly re-watchable, as there’s simply nothing else like it. Huston’s choice of placing ‘Red Sun’ on such a high pedestal isn’t completel unworthy, however. It’s an inclusive Western, well-loved in the genre’s fandom, but its appeal outside of that isn’t extensive.

The three main players involved in the project – Young, Bronson and Mifune – had already produced their best work inside their respective filmographies. That being said, ‘Red Sun’ still has a unique appeal over 50 years after its theatrical release. Bronson has the same low-key magnetism that he displays in mostl of his films whilst Mifune is suitably memorable as a samurai who finds himself in the Old West. All the more impressive about his performance is the fact that ‘Red Sun’ was his first feature film role in the English language. (Where he has dialogue, at any rate.) As for the rest of the main cast, Ursula Andress is commanding as Cristina in what is the only main female character in the film. Although Andress receives second billing, she doesn’t appear until an hour into the film. That being said, Andress is worth the wait. She displays a certain exterior swagger that is reminiscent of her breakout role as Honey Ryder in ‘Dr. No’ more than a decade previous. Alain Delon is every inch the perfect villain as Gauche in his black attire, a dress code that could be compared with that of Henry Fonda in ‘Once Upon a Time in the West’ or Jack Palance in ‘Shane’. Delon is just as likely to shoot someone down with his menacing blue eyes as he is with his pistol, as he’s an outlaw with no ethical compass.

‘Red Sun’ is the pinnacle of the Eastern/Western crossover and has to be seen to be believed.

"Red Sun" is available for streaming on YouTube. 

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BY FRED BLOSSER

“Man of the East,” a comedic Italian Western starring Terence Hill and directed by Enzo Barboni as “E.B. Clucher,” opened in U.S. theaters on May 1, 1974, as a release through United Artists. I saw it at the old Turnpike Cinema in Fairfax, Va., now long gone. Come to think of it, United Artists is long gone too, at least in its 1974 form. The poster outside the theater carried comic artwork of Hill in a goofy pose on horseback. The tagline read, “The Magnificent One!,” an abbreviated version of the original Italian title, “. . . E poi lo chiamarono il magnifico,” which translates more or less as, “Now They Call Him the Magnificent.” The advertising team at UA didn’t have to look far for a catchy phrase that might remind fans, however subliminally or satirically, of “The Magnificent Seven.” Most devotees of Italian Westerns look down on the comic offshoots of the genre like “Man of the East,” but on its own terms, Clucher’s picture is a better-than-average example of its type. It even holds its own against Hollywood’s feeble comedy Westerns of the same era, like “something big” (1971), “The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean” (1972), and “The Great Scout and Cathouse Thursday” (1976).

In “Man of the East,” now available on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber Studio Classics, Hill’s character, Sir Thomas Moore, travels to Arizona in 1880 at the final behest of his wealthy, free-spirited father, recently deceased after fatally suffering “a stroke in a bawdy house.” The elder Moore had rejected the conformist life of a peer in Queen Victoria’s Court to drift through the American West in company with three rambunctious pals, Bull, Holy Joe, and Monkey (Gregory Walcott, Harry Carey Jr., and Dominic Barto), as “The Englishman’s Gang.” Tom intends to homestead on the land where his father built a cabin, and wants to retain Bull, Holy Joe, and Monkey as his ranch hands. The three galoots have their own marching orders from their deceased friend: “Tom is still a green kid. Make a man of him, and then -- hit the saddle.” The trio feel civilization crowding in on them as the frontier shrinks, the dominant theme of Westerns in the 1970s, American and Italian alike. They agree to stay around long enough to toughen up their friend’s soft-spoken son by teaching him to fight, shoot, trade his bicycle for a horse, and change out his tweeds for his father’s old cowboy outfit. Then they’ll keep drifting West, trying to stay one step ahead of the railroad, which for them embodies the unwelcome idea of “progress” as it did for the characters in various Sergio Leone movies. Leone had sufficient budget to include real trains in his films; Clucher makes do with stock footage of the Rio Grande Scenic Railroad under the opening credits.

Tom’s plans run afoul of domineering cattle baron Austin, who wants the newcomer’s property. The big rancher employs his gunslinging foreman, Clayton (Riccardo Pizzuti), to intimidate the tenderfoot into selling out and leaving. Clayton has ambitious eyes on his boss’s fortune through Austin’s pretty daughter Candida (Yanti Somer), but she and Tom become romantically attracted to each other. This gives the rancher and his henchman added incentive to drive the greenhorn out of the territory. These elements in the script (written by Clucher) lift a little of this and a little of that from several John Ford classics, including Ford’s sentimentality. Harry Carey Jr., billed here simply as Harry Carey, had appeared right before “Man of the East” in Clucher’s “Trinity Is Still My Name” (1971), but not coincidentally, he was also one of Ford’s famous stock company of players. Clucher magnifies the slugfests from “Donovan’s Reef” (1963) and other Ford pictures into two big, extended saloon brawls where dozens of stuntmen crash through windows and have their heads slammed into breakaway tables. As in most American Westerns, the fights end with the participants stretched out on the floor or staggering away woozily, but not critically injured. Hospital ERs probably wish that drunken bar fights ended that harmlessly in real life.

The movie’s violence is strictly PG, going no further than the hammy melees. Although the characters occasionally draw and fire their guns, the only things that get riddled with bullets are a hat and a tin can. “This is the first Italian Western I’ve seen, the first Western I’ve seen, where no one gets killed -- no one gets shot!” Alex Cox marvels in his audio commentary for the Kino Lorber Blu-ray. This would have been a selling point on movie night in 1974, when parents searched the listings for a family-friendly Western that they could watch with their nine-year-olds. Nowadays it may be a moot point. The nine-year-olds I know are busy competing against each other on Fortnite, to see who can rack up the highest body count in simulated search-and-destroy missions. Still, small kids may be amused by Clucher’s broad humor, including Hill’s daffy faces, longjohns, and hop-frog jumps during Tom’s morning exercises. If you think Steve Martin and Will Ferrell invented the gimmick of a normal-looking guy who gets laughs by acting wacky, meet Hill and Clucher. There’s a gag about horse poop, ongoing verbal confusion where the unsophisticated characters misunderstand long words, and a fleeting gay joke. The latter is so benign that anyone inside or outside the LGBTQ community would be hard pressed to take offense. Even Spaghetti Western enthusiasts who disdain comedies like this may smile in a scene where Clucher pokes fun at Leone’s theatrics. Two bounty hunters in black (genre regulars Sal Borgese and Tony Norton) ride up to the ominous cello chords of Ennio Morricone’s showdown theme from “A Fistful of Dollars.” Then, straight-faced, the two slowly dismount in perfect unison like synchronized swimmers.

BY HANK REINEKE

On Disc two of the Warner Archive’s new and essential Blu-ray release of The Curse of Frankenstein - the first Hammer horror classic - Richard Klemensen, publisher of Little Shoppe of Horrors magazine, offers a succinct examination of the nuts and bolts of the film’s production history. The Klemensen segment is only one of several generous and informative featurettes included on the set. In the course of The Resurrection Men: Hammer, Frankenstein and the Rebirth of the Horror Film, the publisher explains that Hammer was a small, struggling indie studio that had churned out B pictures and modest second features since its 1934 inception. The studio’s fortune – and existence - was threatened in the early 1950s when television upended the British film industry. Ironically, it was during this same period that Hammer would lens one of their most significant big screen splashes: a sci-fi property adapted from British TV titled The Quatermass Xperiment.

That film would signal the studio’s first successful entry in the theatrical sci-fi/horror genre: even though the picture was a far cry from the Gothic horrors to which the studio would soon be most associated. The public’s interest in Gothic horror had waned in the late 1940s, as enthusiasm for Universal’s famed cycle of Dracula and Frankenstein and Mummy films had peaked and passed. The movie-going public with a penchant for the mysterious had since turned their attentions to flying saucers and alien visitors, of giant radioactive insects, of Ray Harryhausen’s celebrated animated monster-mutations.

So it was an odd time for Hammer to invest money in restages of such literary monsters as Shelley’s Frankenstein Monster and Stoker’s Count Dracula. The initial script for the first of Hammer’s Frankenstein cycle films would come to company producers via two gentleman who would eventually become competitors: Milton Subotsky and Max J. Rosenberg, the two principal founders of Amicus Productions. Hammer execs would ultimately reject that script and scenario, but the idea of producing of a Frankenstein film was not dismissed. The studio’s interest in reviving the franchise was ultimately left to screenwriter Jimmy Sangster.

Hammer’s decision to resurrect the monster was not met with enthusiasm by Universal Pictures. As the creators of the original series of Frankenstein films (1931-1948), the studio was very protective of their interests. They would do their best to make certain that no Universal-conceived elements would be co-opted by this British up-start. But as Mary Shelley’s property had long been in the rights-free Public Domain, Universal could not claim copyright to any characters that appeared in the original novel of 1818.

In truth, Hammer had no intention to overlap with the celebrated Universal film series. For starters, there would be no iconic armies of torch and pitchfork toting angry villagers chasing the monster. This wasn’t an artistic choice or due to any executive decision to not shadow Universal’s tropes too closely. The modest budget they set aside for the production of The Curse of Frankenstein simply wouldn’t allow for the employment of that many extras. The use of Jack Pierce’s iconic flat-top Frankenstein monster make-up, replete with neck bolts and callow cheeks was also taboo. Hammer’s make-up wizard Phil Leakey would conjure up an admittedly less iconic - but certainly far more gruesome – set of make-up for Frankenstein’s creation, all boils and melted flesh and cloudy eyes.

Gruesome and bloody would be the order of the day. As the first Frankenstein film to be shot in color, the filmmakers were able to take advantage of relaxed contemporary standards of what was deemed acceptable to show on screen. The resulting film was certainly far more graphic than previously seen, dressed as it was with ample amounts of blood-letting and gory visuals. That’s not to say the censors were happy with the film’s content when submitted for review. The film would receive an “X’ rating in Great Britain. This wasn’t only due to the graphic content and violence as presented, but also due to Hammer’s introducing an element of lurid sexuality and provocative peeks of Hazel Court’s ample cleavage.

Hammer would also wisely make Shelley’s Baron Victor Frankenstein the series central character. Actually, it was the Baron’s lack of character that would make him the series’ central villain. Peter Cushing’s Frankenstein remained as obsessed as ever in his desire to create new life from dead tissue. This ambition was a hallmark of all his mad scientist predecessors at Universal: Colin Clive, Lionel Atwill, Patrick Knowles, Onslow Stevens and even Boris Karloff himself. But Cushing’s Frankenstein was more ambitious in his creating of new monsters. The actor’s Dr. Frankenstein was the monster, producing a series of woeful, tortured creatures in the course of his experimentations.

The Curse of Frankenstein would bring together several members of the production crew whose work would soon become synonymous with Hammer’s brand of horror. Director Terence Fisher was a dependable figure to helm the project. He had creating serviceable thrillers for the studio’s producers since 1951. Despite working with penny-pinching budgets, Production Designer Bernard Robinson was able to create a sense of luxurious, visual ambiance with his opulent set decorations. This was no small feat as most of the films he would design for Hammer were shot within the cramped confines of Bray House on the Thames.

Then there was Jack Asher, whose moody lighting was never short of brilliant. His work became even more nuanced and image-invoking when the success of Curse at the box office convinced the studio to loosen the purse strings… a bit. This decision allowed the studio to invest in bigger budgets and to unleash their creative energies on other horror film properties once the sole domain of Universal. Between 1957 and 1974, Hammer would give us no fewer than seven Frankenstein films, nine Dracula movies, four Mummy pictures and even a one-shot Spaniard Werewolf epic. This in addition, of course, to an impressive number of original monsters and adherents of Satan they would conjure on their own.

I’m preaching to the choir here. If you are a fan of vintage horror movies, you are already acquainted with this classic. Warner’s Blu ray edition of The Curse of Frankenstein provides film fans with beautiful transfers of this 1957 horror classic with the choice of enjoying it in 1.85:1, 1.66:1, and 1.37:1 Open-Matte versions, all restored and remastered from 4K scans. The set also offers a generous amount of supplemental materials providing dedicated fans with backstories on its production. Asher’s contributions are featured in the set’s featurette Torrents of Light: The Art of Jack Asher, with cinematographer David J. Miller (A.S.C.) bringing to the fore the elements that made Asher’s photography so distinctive and compelling. Miller describes Asher as a “perfectionist” and the preeminent “architectural lighting director,” and makes a convincing case of such an honor.

Though the phrase “painting with light” has become an overused stock-phrase to describe the art of cinematography, Miller suggests that Asher’s work is particularly deserving of such accolade. He describes the atmospheric visual imagery as captured by Asher as “an oil painting come to life.” Miller also suggests, not unreasonably, that Asher not only set the template for Hammer’s visual style, but that his work had clearly influenced the styles of cinematographers in Italy and France, the great Mario Bava being the most notable. He also suggests that Asher had freedom to creatively contribute to the “Hammer style” as he had previously worked extensively with Fisher and Production Designer Robinson. Such familiarity and trust with the core creative team was an essential component to the film’s visual flair.

Another figure whose work for Hammer is now considered essential to the Hammer brand was that of composer James Bernard. The composer’s dramatic, string-soaked arrangements would serve as a perfect complement to the often wild melodrama unfolding on screen. Bernard’s contribution to the Hammer legacy is examined in detail in yet another featurette Diabolus in Musica: James Bernard and the Sound of Hammer Horror, moderated by composer Christopher Drake.

Most famously, The Curse of Frankenstein would first pair two names that eventually would forever remain associative with the Hammer Film legacy: actors Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. Cushing was a well-known figure to television audiences in Britain when he accepted the role of Victor Frankenstein in Curse. The actor’s feature film work prior to his work with Hammer was less celebrated, though never short of brilliant. In 1956 Christopher Lee wasn’t yet a film star of any magnitude, at least not a household name. He had been a difficult actor to cast due to his height. He dwarfed the lead actors he worked alongside, which no doubt rankled his better-known male co-stars and caused frustrating framing issues to cinematographers. In his casting of the creature in Curse, his height would finally work to his advantage. But ultimately he was cast not due to his towering presence alone. He also impressed with his abilities to communicate effectively as a mime.

(Photo: Cinema Retro Archives)

Rare shot of Ernest Borgnine on the Mexican set of Sam Peckinpah's 1969 classic "The Wild Bunch". Borgnine is nursing a foot injury that occurred prior to production and posed some obstacles for him in filming the action scenes. 

“YOU EITHER CARE OR YOU DON’T CARE”

By Raymond Benson

[Much of this review is culled from a Cinema Retro 2018 review by the author of the Kino Lorber DVD release.]

Tony Zierra’s fascinating documentary that premiered at Cannes in 2017 (and was released theatrically in 2018) is about an unsung hero in the lore of legendary filmmaker Stanley Kubrick—Leon Vitali, who describes himself not as an “assistant,” but as a “filmworker.”

Vitali, now in his seventies, began his career as an actor in the 1960s, appearing in various British films and television programs. After being impressed with Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey and A Clockwork Orange, Vitali told a friend, “I want to work for that guy.” He managed to get an audition for Kubrick’s next picture, Barry Lyndon, and landed the key role of Lord Bullingdon, the main antagonist of the film. Vitali received much praise for his performance, but instead of continuing an acting career, he made an extraordinary left turn. He asked Kubrick if he could work behind the camera from then on.

Kubrick grilled Vitali on his sincerity, and then he hired the actor as an additional casting director for The Shining. Vitali’s task was to go to America and find a little boy to play Danny in the classic horror movie. The young actor turned out to be Danny Lloyd, who, as an adult, appears in Filmworker as a talking head. This is a treat for fans of the The Shining, for Lloyd, a private person today, rarely emerges from his reclusiveness.

Throughout the making of The Shining, Vitali served as little Danny’s handler and guardian, and ultimately began to perform more tasks for the demanding filmmaker. For the next twenty-plus years, Vitali learned every aspect of the filmmaking business, especially the color correction processes for film that led to his overseeing the restoration of Kubrick’s pictures, and many other jobs. In short, he became an indispensable ally and assistant. As one interviewee put it, Vitali became Kubrick’s “right-hand man, along with the other hand, the legs, the shoulders, body…” (He also played the mysterious, masked “Red Cloak” leader of the orgy sequence in Eyes Wide Shut.)

Filmworker takes the viewer through Vitali’s years with Kubrick, commented upon by the likes of Ryan O’Neal, Matthew Modine, Danny Lloyd, Lee Ermey, Marie Richardson, Stellan Skarsgård, and others, plus film executives Julian Senior, Brian Jamieson, Steve Southgate, and Vitali’s family. We learn a lot about Kubrick’s process, as well as what kind of person he was. While it’s well-known that the filmmaker was a perfectionist, few realize that he was a genuinely warm, soft-spoken, animal-loving man.

Viewers may wonder why Vitali committed so much of his life to Kubrick. As Vitali demonstrates, the “maestro” could be intensely demanding and did not suffer excuses. “You either care, or you don’t care,” was a mantra of Kubrick’s, and Vitali adopted it for himself as well. In the end, we get a portrait of not only what working for Kubrick was like, but of a man who went above and beyond what most people would consider healthy devotion. That said, considering the mentor was Kubrick, this was also a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to learn from and serve an exceptional artist.

Kino Lorber’s new pristine Blu-ray is a port-over from the previous DVD release, and it is indeed an improvement. It comes with 5.1 Surround sound and 2.0 lossless stereo , the theatrical trailer, and a short supplement Q&A with Vitali and director Zierra on stage after a screening of the film.

Filmworker is a must for the Stanley Kubrick fan, and, in general, for students and devotees of filmmaking.

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Cinema Retro has received the following press release:

Latest Title in the Paramount Presents Line Debuts March 30, 2021

Legendary director Cecil B. DeMille’s grand spectacle THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH arrives for the first time on Blu-ray as part of the Paramount Presents line on March 30, 2021 from Paramount Home Entertainment.

A two-time Academy Award-winner^*–including Best Picture and Best Writing, Motion Picture Story–THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH captures the thrills, chills and exhilaration of the circus.  Featuring three intertwining plotlines filled with romance and rivalry, DeMille's film includes spectacular action sequences, including a show-stopping train wreck. THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH also boasts a sensational cast, including Betty Hutton, Cornel Wilde, Charlton Heston, Dorothy Lamour, Gloria Grahame, and James Stewart. 

Newly restored from a 4K scan of the original negative, this essential movie of the Golden Age of Hollywood packs action, romance, laughs and treachery into an epic only DeMille could create, resulting in one of 1952’s biggest hits.

The limited-edition Paramount Presents Blu-ray Discâ„¢ includes the newly restored film in collectible packaging with a foldout image of the film’s theatrical poster and an interior spread with key movie moments.  THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH Blu-ray also includes a new Filmmaker Focus with film historian Leonard Maltin, exploring the making of the film and its reception, as well as access to a Digital copy of the film.

About Paramount Presents

This collectible line spans celebrated classics to film-lover favorites, each from the studio’s renowned library.  Every Paramount Presents release features never-before-seen bonus content and exclusive collectible packaging.  There are 14 additional titles available in the Paramount Presents collection: Fatal Attraction, King Creole, To Catch a Thief, Flashdance, Days of Thunder, Pretty In Pink, Airplane!, Ghost, Roman Holiday, The Haunting, The Golden Child, Trading Places, The Court Jester and Elizabethtown.

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In this clip, Harrison Ford pays tribute to composer John Williams for his scores for the Indiana Jones films, as Williams is honored by the American Film Institute.

Walter Matthau pays tribute to his friend and frequent co-star Jack Lemmon at the American Film Institute's Lifetime Achievement Award ceremony for Lemmon in 1988. Lemmon's acceptance speech follows.

Sandra de Bruin is an established actress who has appeared in more than 100 television series (ER, Barnaby Jones, The Rockford Files, Three’s Company, The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson, to name but a few), TV films (Law and Order, Return to Earth) and feature films (The Andromeda Strain, Gray Lady Down). She has done numerous commercials, worked in voice-over and looping, danced at the Los Angeles Music Center and is the creator of the bestselling Actor's Audition Log. Sandra will periodically be sharing her stories of working with Hollywood legends, which will appear in a forthcoming memoir about her on-and off-screen adventures.

BY SANDRA DE BRUIN WITH DEAN BRIERLY

Throughout my wonderfully unpredictable career I’ve enjoyed a number of repeat chance meetings with various Hollywood luminaries, perhaps none so memorable as my close encounters of the Cliff Robertson kind.

Each film generation boasts a handful of actor’s actors, leading men and women whose work is exceptional yet unaffected in ways that only fellow performers might recognize. To me, Cliff Robertson was such a paradigm during a sparkling career that spanned five-plus decades.

Although he had done acclaimed work in film and television earlier in his career and had a strong stage background, I first became aware of him after seeing the 1963 WWII film P.T. 109, wherein he played John F. Kennedy, then a Naval Lieutenant on the titular torpedo boat. However, Cliff’s Oscar-winning performance in Charly (1969) solidified my admiration for him. Not as the popular macho hero of the time, but as a mildly intellectually disabled adult who agrees to an experiment that temporarily imbues him with a super-intellect. It also leads to a romance with his night school teacher that inevitably turns tragic when Charly regresses to his previous mental state. A truly forward-looking film, both sad and inspiring thanks largely to Cliff’s talent.

In the late 1970s he became every actor’s hero when he exposed the fact that Columbia Pictures studio chief David Begelman had been embezzling money through forged checks. Begelman was subsequently fired, but a year later was named head of MGM, such was Tinseltown’s morality at that time. But the industry didn’t thank Cliff. The studios stood behind their executives, no matter how corrupt, and Cliff suddenly found himself blacklisted for several years. (David McClintick’s 1982 book Indecent Exposure details the entire sordid story.)

However, prior to the blacklisting, he was still landing great roles in significant films through the first half of the ’70s, notably Too Late the Hero (1970), J.W. Coop (1971) and Three Days of the Condor (1975). Also in 1975 came Return to Earth, a TV movie about Buzz Aldrin, the second astronaut to walk on the moon, and his subsequent mental breakdown as his career and marriage disintegrated. I was cast as Aldrin’s Air Force secretary. However, the shoot date was an “on or about,” meaning sometime in a week or so, giving me an opportunity to work on other shows.

The timing was right, as Lady Luck smiled on me and I was cast on the mystery/comedy TV show Ellery Queen. Dina Merrill, the beautiful New York socialite-turned-actor, married to Cliff Robertson, was the guest star. The breakdown for my character was “an inept secretary in a lawyer’s outer office.” The scene opened with me filing my nails and Dina with her male assistant entering and announcing herself at my desk. I was to buzz my boss on the intercom that she had arrived, then jump up and escort her to his office. Well, when I jumped up I accidently knocked over my pencil holder, sending pens and pencils all over the floor in front of her. As I babbled an incoherent apology her assistant immediately began picking up the pencils. The crew and some bystanders, which to my surprise included Cliff, broke into laughter.

However, the director was not amused and yelled in an irritated voice, “Cut! Let’s go again. Sandra, try not to knock over the pencils this time.”

Encouraged by the laughter and not wanting to acknowledge it was an accident, I countered, “The character description says she’s inept. I thought it would be funny.” There was a pause as the director gave it some thought. “Okay, go with it. But for the record the description says inept, not clumsy.” The director always has to have the last word, as well he or she should.

We did one or two more takes, close-ups, etc., and moved into the interior of the lawyer’s office. After making the introductions, I turned to go and suddenly remembered the hilarious scene in the 1973 film Day for Night in which the Italian actress Valentina Cortese kept opening or colliding with the wrong door. With that embedded in my mind, I deliberately walked smack into the open office door. Everyone stifled a laugh as I muttered something and exited very tentatively while closing the door behind me. (Interestingly, Ingrid Bergman said in her 1975 Oscar acceptance speech, “This Oscar belongs to Valentina Cortese for her performance in Day for Night.”)

The director yelled, “Cut! Good! Like it! Let’s do it again, and Dina, give me an ‘I don’t believe her’ reaction.” She did a marvelous blank look, rolling her eyes upward.

We did the scene a few more times, then moved back to my outer desk as Dina and her assistant took their leave. That was it for the day. After saying farewell and thank you to everyone, I gathered my things from my trailer, including the wardrobe I had worn on the show, and began the long walk to my car parked in the back lot at Universal. Just a short distance from the sound stage a bland, nondescript car slowed down and a male voice called, “Can I give you a lift to your car?”

Without even looking at who was driving, I happily replied, “That would be great!” (Studio personnel driving cars and golf carts on the lot often did this helpful thing, so I didn’t hesitate accepting.) After getting myself, my wardrobe and other stuff situated in the passenger seat, I turned to look at the driver. It was Cliff Robertson! I think I said something like, “Oh, it’s you,” not knowing at the moment what else to say.

He laughed and complimented me on my performance, which of course I graciously accepted. We talked briefly about his film Charly, which he was very proud of, and then I asked him how Dina was going to get home. He grinned and said, “They have a limo for her.”

The head-spinning release schedule of the oft-delayed "No Time to Die" has taken another turn. The film is now scheduled to open internationally on September 30 of this year. However, American Bond fans will have to sulk for a week, as the U.S. opening won't occur until October 8. For more, click here.

BY LEE PFEIFFER

The comedic genius of Peter Sellers is amply displayed in his 1963 hit British comedy "The Wrong Arm of the Law". Sellers was already an established star in the UK and in 1964 his reputation (and salary) would rise considerably with the release of his two major tour-de-force performances in "The Pink Panther" and "Dr. Strangelove". "The Wrong Arm of the Law" and "Heaven's Above!" (released the same year) would be the last of Sellers' modestly budgeted B&W British comedy productions. While Sellers would go on to bigger things, the charm of the British farces remains irresistible. In "The Wrong Arm of the Law", admirably directed by Cliff Owen, Sellers has a larger-than-life role as "Pearly" Gates, the leader of a London crime ring who masquerades by day as a fey French fashion designer. In amusing scenes, we see Pearly addressing his clients in an upper crust manner complete with heavy French accent. Seconds later, he berates his gang members in a back room and reverts back to normal voice as an unsophisticated gangster. Pearly orchestrates a number of audacious robberies that his men carry off successfully- until they are confronted by a rival mob who pose as police officers. They have official uniforms and use of an official squad car and intimidate the gang into giving them the stolen loot. By the time Pearly's men realize they've been snookered, the other gang has taken off with their ill-gotten gains. Unable to tell real cops from the I.P.O. Mob (Impersonating a Police Officer), as they are now known, Pearly's men have to hand over the fruits of their labors in every robbery they carry out. While Pearly considers himself a criminal mastermind, he cannot figure out how the gang's robbery plans are are known to the I.P.O. gang in advance. In reality, the plans are being leaked by his seductive girlfriend Valerie (Nanette Newman), who uses sex to disarm Pearly and have him blab about his next robbery. When Pearly learns that a rival gang headed by Nervous O'Toole (Bernard Cribbins) is also being victimized, they decide to form an alliance to thwart the I.P.O. gang. They ally with a third party, Police Inspector "Nosey" Parker (Lionel Jeffries), a buffoon who convinces the top brass to allow him to work with the two gangs in order to thwart the police impersonators, who are causing embarrassment to the department.

The briskly-paced crime spoof offers considerable pleasures. It's never outright hilarious but it is highly entertaining, with Sellers in top form and aided considerably by some of England's best comedy actors. (Lionel Jeffries is especially amusing.) The climax is a comedy of errors in which Pearly persuades the police brass to use a fortune in actual currency as the bait for a trap for the I.P.O. gang. What results is master disaster for all concerned with gangsters and police running amok trying to retrieve the loot in a scene reminiscent of the finale of "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World" (coincidentally released the same year.) The film represents another example of how efficiently made British films of this era were- and how impressive the talent pool was that producers could utilize. 

"The Wrong Arm of the Law" is currently streaming on Amazon Prime. The transfer, provided by FilmRise is excellent. Viewing is free for Prime members and it can be rented for $1.99 or purchased for streaming for $7.99.

BY DOUG OSWALD

A Japanese Naval officer and an American Marine Corps aviator are marooned on a Pacific island during WWII in “Hell in the Pacific,” available on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber. The film is a virtual silent movie with the exception of the Pacific island sounds of surf, wind, birds and the occasional words spoken by the co-protagonists portrayed by Toshiro Mifune and Lee Marvin. However, neither understands the other’s language. The film opens with Mifune scanning the horizon for any signs of rescue when he spots a deflated life raft. The rubber raft belongs to Marvin who is hiding in the thick jungle growth nearby. Marvin is able to elude discovery by Mifune, but eventually thirst forces him to reveal himself on the beach.

Mifune captures Marvin after several attempts are made by Marvin to take water from Mifune’s water supply as well as other general mayhem like stealing fish from Mifune’s fish trap. Mifune ties him to a stock and Marvin is forced to drag a piece of driftwood up and down the beach. Mifune also blindfolds Marvin because he doesn’t want Marvin looking at him. Later, Marvin tricks Mifune and the tables are turned. Mifune is now forced to drag the log while tied to a stock and blindfolded. The island is not so much Hell, but a sort of Purgatory where each man takes turns harassing the other. Eventually, Marvin tires of this and releases Mifune, much to Mifune’s befuddlement. The men form a grudging alliance and focus their efforts on building a raft to escape the island. They do escape, only to arrive at a larger bombed out island once occupied by both sides. Perhaps this is their fate, to repeat the cycle.

Although the setting is World War II in the Pacific, the movie could just as well be set in a post apocalyptic or alien world. The 1985 science fiction film “Enemy Mine” offers an alternate version of “Hell in the Pacific” and was clearly partially inspired by that film. Although based on a 1977 novella, “Enemy Mine” is a unique, but maintains the basic plot of two enemies forced to work together in order to survive. This story concept served as a template used in countless television series from “The Twilight Zone” and “Star Trek” to “The Rat Patrol” and “Battlestar Galactica.”

Directed by John Boorman, “Hell in the Pacific” was released four years before his 1972 box office hit, “Deliverance.” He previously worked with Marvin on the 1971 thriller “Point Blank.” While not a prolific director, Boorman directed several high profile movies such as “Zardoz” (1974), “Exorcist II: The Heretic” (1977), the ultimate Arthurian epic “Excalibur” (1981), “The Emerald Forrest (1985), the autobiographical “Hope and Glory” (1987), “Beyond Rangoon” (1995) and “The Tailor of Panama” (2001). I have no doubt Boorman put his heart and soul into every production.

Released by Cinerama Releasing Corporation in December 1968, the movie under- performed at the box office. This was probably due to the unusual nature of the film with sparse dialogue, no subtitles, bleak setting and downbeat ending. The original ending as directed by Boorman was scrapped in favor of the ending fans are familiar with as seen in the theater, on television and on the initial home video releases. The DVD release by MGM was the first release to include the original ending as does this Blu-ray release. Making great use of the wide screen lens, the movie was filmed on location in the Palau Islands which are located north of New Guinea and east of the Philippines where the WWII Battle of Peleliu took place from September to November 1944.

Both Marvin and Mifune served in the Pacific during WWII. Marvin was a Marine wounded during the Battle of Saipan in 1944. Mifune was in the Japanese Army Air Service. Mifune was the most famous actor from Japan at the time and Marvin had recently received an Oscar for “Cat Ballou” (1965) and was in one of the biggest box office hits of 1967, “The Dirty Dozen.” Both men featured in many now classic movies in a variety of genres from detective thrillers, dramas and comedies to samurai films (Mifune) and westerns (Marvin). “Hell in the Pacific” is a must-see movie if, for no other reason,n than to experience the result of the creative triumphant of John Boorman directing Toshiro Mifune and Lee Marvin. Both Marvin and Mifune deserve praise for their performances.

The Kino Lorber Blu-ray looks and sounds terrific and is a worthy upgrade from the early DVD releases by Anchor Bay and MGM. Extras on the disc include an insightful audio commentary by Travis Crawford and Bill Ackerman, in-depth discussions by director John Boorman and another by Art Director Anthony Pratt. The disc also includes subtitles which reveal the dialog spoken in Japanese by Mifune and the dialog spoken by Marvin. The real treat comes in the form of an option to view the movie as originally seen upon release in theaters or with the alternate ending. The alternate ending is more accurately Boorman’s original filmed ending. As for me, I prefer Boorman’s version, but I’m pleased both are offered. The previous MGM DVD release only offered the Boorman ending as an extra on the disc and did not edit it back into the movie as this release does. The disc also includes reverseable sleeve artwork and the trailers for five other Kino releases. Unfortunately, a trailer for this movie is not included. This is a movie which needs to be watched multiple times; with the original ending, with the theatrical release ending, with the subtitles and also with the audio commentary. Well worth it for fans of this outstanding movie. It’s a terrific Blu-ray release from Kino Lorber.

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Retro movie historian Jonathan Baak looks back on the 1974 disaster blockbuster "The Towering Inferno" and provides interesting insights into the making of the film.

BY DARREN ALLISON

Fireball XL5

It’s always a gratifying feeling when Silva screen produces another title in their successful Gerry Anderson collection. This time around, they have focused on the 1962-63 series, Fireball XL5 (SILLP1595).

The black & white puppet television series followed the missions of Fireball XL5, a vessel of the World Space Patrol in the year 2062. Commanded by Colonel Steve Zodiac, XL5 travels the universe encountering alien civilisations and defending planet Earth from interstellar threats. It was produced, like most other Anderson productions, in Supermarionation, using puppetry techniques that captured the imagination of a generation.

The Fireball XL5 soundtrack has been newly compiled, mastered and designed by the creative and committed team at Fanderson – The Official Gerry And Sylvia Anderson Appreciation Society.

The album features 24 tracks from 16 episodes, including the Fireball XL5 main theme and single version. In the opening theme, Barry Gray employs, for the first time, the Ondes Martenot, bringing an eerie and other-worldly sound to the series. The contrast of detached electronic music with the jazzy musical language served as a perfect juxtaposition of the alien and human Worlds. Each episode would finish with the pop song “Fireball”, bringing the viewer back to the warmth of their 60s lounge. The song was performed by Don Spencer and was a minor hit in the UK, spending 12 weeks in the UK charts and peaking at number 32.

Barry Gray was a classically trained composer and a versatile musician and was amongst the first composers to use electronic instruments in music for television. Best known for creating the music for most of the Gerry and Sylvia Anderson television series in the 1960s and 70s (Fireball XL5, Thunderbirds, UFO, Space:1999), Barry Gray’s complete musical opus is still not commercially available in its entirety. Fanderson, dedicated to the productions of Gerry Anderson, has gained access to all Barry Gray’s original studio tapes and have undertaken a major re-issue project. Together with Fanderson, Silva Screen Records is championing Barry Gray’s incredible musical opus and is releasing the material in a series of physical and digital albums and vinyl records.

Given the age of this early soundtrack, the music is crisp, clean and has a wide dynamic range. One has to applaud the production team who have really exceeded expectations. As with the rest of the series of albums, the packaging is superb, presented in a thick, sturdy gatefold sleeve and with both platters pressed in a transparent orange vinyl, it really is a thing of beauty and nothing less of what is deserved.

The album is also available on CD format (SILCD1595) and as a digital download.

Rawhead Rex

Released in 1986, horror film Rawhead Rex (SILLP1606) was based on a short story by Clive (Hellraiser) Barker. The tale is set in 1980s rural Ireland. The Demon, alive for millennia and trapped in the depths of Hell, is unleashed on the sleepy local farming community. Remembered faintly through pre-Christian myth, the only one that can stop Rawhead’s bloody rampage is the historian, desperately racing against the time.

Composer Colin Towns is not only one of Europe’s most prolific film, television and theatre composers, but also a pianist, songwriter, arranger, producer and collaborator. His name has graced the credits of many prestigious and popular features. "The first film I scored was Full Circle which starred Mia Farrow and is still in the BFI top ten for best score for horror films. I felt that film was more of a dark scary mystery. Rawhead Rex on the other hand was clearly a horror film 100%. I visited the film set in Ireland during the filming to take in the atmosphere and meet the actors after which I decided to record the music at CTS in London with a sixty piece orchestra plus electronics. I have always orchestrated my own work and had a wild time with Rawhead which is what I really love doing". Colin Towns

Towns, known for The Puppet Masters, Space Truckers, Maybe Baby, Foyle’s War, Doc Martin and Pie in The Sky, created a hugely enjoyable and diverse score for Rawhead Rex. It’s main theme especially conveys plenty of power, tension and full-on threatening brass. However, on the flip side of that, tracks such as ‘Welcome to Ireland’ or ‘The Family is Leaving’ are open and lush with some beautiful use of the string section - all of which makes for a nicely balanced and entirely rewarding mix.

This long-awaited score album is packaged in an attractive gatefold sleeve with both of the LPs pressed in an appropriate blood red vinyl. The soundtrack is also available on CD format (SILCD1606) and as a digital download from Silva screen’s website.

Both the Gerry Anderson and Rawhead Rex releases can be ordered from:

https://www.silvascreen.com/

Sit back and watch "Lady Godiva of Coventry" starring Maureen O'Hara, courtesy of Universal. (We hope you don't blush too easily...) 

“HEY, MANNY!”

By Raymond Benson

One of the generally underrated and mostly forgotten great action thrillers of the 1980s was Runaway Train, a sleeper that took audiences by surprise in late 1985/early 1986. Produced by the low-rent team of Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus for the now-defunct Cannon Films, Train was not the partners’ ordinary B-movie action fare. The picture’s pedigree assured that there was going to be something interesting within, and there was.

Runaway Train was originally an Akira Kurosawa project. The Japanese director had conceived the movie, co-written a screenplay with two of his regular colleagues, and planned to make it in conjunction with a Hollywood studio in the late 1960s. According to the supplements on Kino Lorber’s new Blu-ray release of the film, Kurosawa wanted to cast Henry Fonda and Peter Falk in the lead roles of escaped convicts aboard an out-of-control train speeding to its oblivion. Unfortunately, weather and financial hurdles caused the production to fail, so Kurosawa went on to work on Tora, Tora, Tora!, only to be replaced by Kinji Fukasaku and Toshio Masuda on that production when Kurosawa fell behind schedule and went over-budget.

Enter Golan-Globus. They secured the rights to the screenplay in the early 1980s and had it revised by Paul Zindel and Edward Bunker. With Russian director Andrei Konchalovsky hired to helm the picture, Djordje Millicevic came in to do more work on the script. The casting of Jon Voight and Eric Roberts, though, elevated the project to near-A-list caliber. The result is a breathtaking, armrest-gripping experience. Both leads were nominated for Academy Awards (Best Actor and Best Supporting Actor, respectively), and the film received a deserved Editing nomination. At the time, the performances by Voight and Roberts were perceived by some as “over the top.” Nonsense. Runaway Train can be listed on the two actors’ resumes as among the best work either of them ever did. (Voight did win a Golden Globe for his performance.)

Manny (Voight) is the most notorious inmate of Alaska’s Stonehaven Maximum Security Prison. He’s been in solitary for three years, and he’s a thorn in the side of Warden Ranken (John P. Ryan). When he’s finally released from solitary, Voight makes his escape with the help of Buck (Roberts), who tags along with Manny as they run through the freezing cold wasteland with the warden and guards in pursuit. Eventually, they secretly board a train—but the lone engineer suffers a heart attack and dies before he can shut down the engine. The only other person aboard besides the two convicts is a feisty train hostler named Sara (Rebecca DeMornay). Meanwhile, the railroad employees at the control center (Kyle T. Heffner, Kenneth McMillan, and T. K. Carter) have to figure out how to stop the train before it causes a disaster. The movie then becomes a chase, a doomsday scenario, and a conflict of wills between man, nature, and machinery.

One can see how the movie grew from a simple premise into this obstacle course of a feature. The train can’t be diverted to that line because it’s near a nuclear power plant! No, not that way, there’s a bridge that will collapse if a train barrels over it at that speed! Uh oh, that track leads head on with a freight train moving in its direction! The possibilities for set pieces were endless, and the writers knew it.

As for the performances… Jon Voight is made up to be a Frankenstein monster of sorts with scars, gold teeth, and a half-shut eye. The actor gives the character—a truly despicable and vicious villain—everything he has, and it’s fabulous. Eric Roberts’ Buck is the brawn, but he’s short on brains. He, too, chews the scenery with aplomb, annoyingly calling out, “Hey, Manny! Hey, Manny!” throughout the picture. It’s appropriate, though, and this is easily the actor’s best work since The Pope of Greenwich Village. The thing is—these “over the top” characterizations are in tune with the outlandishness of the movie itself. The entire production is dynamite.

Kino Lorber’s new Blu-ray restoration looks superb. It comes with an audio commentary with Roberts and film historians David Del Valle and C. Courtney Joyner. The only supplement is a “Trailers from Hell” episode on the picture featuring Rod Lurie, plus theatrical trailers for this and other Kino Lorber releases.

Runaway Train is an unsung masterpiece of gritty 1980s independent filmmaking, and it’s worth a revisit for those of you who may have elapsed memories of it, and it’s an enthusiastic recommendation for those of you who have never been on the ride.

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BY LEE PFEIFFER

One of the most troubled film productions of its era, the 1983 sci-fi thriller "Brainstorm" is mostly remembered for being the final film of Natalie Wood, who famously died under mysterious circumstances during production. The movie was directed by legendary special effects wizard Douglas Trumbull. It was his second directorial effort following the 1972 release of his cult favorite, "Silent Running". Based on a story by Bruce Joel Rubin, who would go on to loftier achievements, "Brainstorm" combines science fiction elements with the traditional conspiracy sub-plot that has permeated so many thrillers over the last half-century. The premise is intriguing, however. Scientists Michael Brace (Christopher Walken) and his colleague Lillian Reynolds (Louise Fletcher) head a small team that's working for a major corporation headed by Alex Terson (Cliff Robertson). They have succeeded in creating the most fantastic scientific achievement of all time: the ability to video record people's thoughts and preserve them on tape. Even more impressive, the tape can be accessed by others, who must don a rather cumbersome helmet that looks like a combination of comic book Ant-Man and Ed Norton's Captain Video chapeau from that famed episode of "The Honeymooners". At first, the experience is a joyous one, as each member of team is able to view what their colleagues have imagined for the sake of the experiment. Thus, the images consist of visual delights such as soaring over the Grand Canyon and immersing oneself in a thrilling rollercoaster ride. However, when privately utilizing the device, each member of the team is unable to control their innermost thoughts. All humans have at least fleeting fantasies that are either arousing, shocking, distasteful or all of the aforementioned. When members of the team begin to secretly access their colleague's visuals, unintended consequences occur. One person becomes obsessed with someone else's graphic sexual fantasy with disastrous psychological and physical results. It becomes apparent that the device is less a dream machine than a potential instrument of destruction. Adding to the tension is the fact that a new member of the team, Karen (Natalie Wood), is Michael's wife and the two are currently going through the process of a messy divorce even while they still live under the same roof with their young son.

A subplot is introduced mid-way through the film in which government officials (the villains, of course) want to take control over the project for intelligence purposes. The scientists rebel at this, even though Alex has been cooperating with them. They become determined to subvert their own achievements rather than have them militarized. This plot device gives the audience heroes to cheer for and baddies to boo. However, the scenario is implausible. It stands to reason that any responsible government would want to have control of mind-reading technology for the simple reason that adversarial nations would inevitably gain access to the same abilities and could use them for intimidating purposes. Nevertheless, the scenario allows for some action scenes in which director Trumbull gets to show off his special effects abilities, as in a scene in which a wild melee ensues inside the scientists' laboratory. (The effects must be viewed within the context of the era in which they were created and although crude by today's standards, an objective analysis is that they were highly impressive when the film was in production.) The most intriguing aspect of "Brainstorm" is a parallel dilemma that is introduced when a member of the team realizes they are about to die. They manage to record their final thoughts on video. Michael realizes that the video might hold the answer to eternal question: is there life after death? If so, whatever the dead scientist experienced might have been recorded for posterity. Alex warns Michael not to tempt fate and view the images...but you know how that goes. This aspect of the plot is the most fascinating and thought-provoking and allows the film to end on a satisfying note.

"Brainstorm" is by no means a sci-fi classic but it certainly deserved a better fate. With Natalie Wood's death, Trumbull had little time to mourn his leading lady. He had to immediately salvage the film by rewriting portions of the script and editing existing footage of Wood in creative ways to extend her role until the final scenes of the movie. (Natalie's sister Lana stood in for her in certain shots.) Trumbull hit another speed bump when MGM decided to cancel production of the movie, even as Trumbull was trying to salvage it. The studio was going to accept a payout from Lloyds of London when Trumbull exercised a clause in his contract that forbade them from doing so. This prolonged process delayed release of the movie substantially. By the time it had opened, Wood's death had already faded from the headlines despite the scandalous aspects and unanswered questions which remain unresolved today. Not even the morbidly curious could save it from being a boxoffice flop. Trumbull was so disgusted by his battles with the studio that he vowed to never direct another major film. He kept true to his word and has used his filmmaking talents primarily for educational projects.  Despite all these woes, Trumbull's final cut of "Brainstorm"  is reasonably compelling and the performances are all fine, if unremarkable, though it's interesting to note that Walken had not yet overtly demonstrated the kind of eccentricities that would characterize his performances in the years to come. 

The Warner Archive Blu-ray presents a fine transfer but, alas no special features except for a trailer. If ever a film deserved to have a commentary track, this is it.

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BY TIM MCGLYNN

During the 1970s, small distribution companies such as Sunn Classic Pictures, began to carve out a niche in the film industry by concentrating on low budget family-oriented movies. With the MPAA rating system firmly in place, moms and dads needed to search for G-rated titles they knew would be suitable for younger audiences. Aside from Disney features, it was often difficult to find such films.

Documentaries with educationally sound titles such as Cougar Country, In Search of Noah’s Ark and The Outer Space Connection played matinees at theaters across the country. Usually shot in 16mm and sometimes a tad boring, these movies were a safe destination for parents looking to drop the kids off for a couple of hours.

If any of these children happened to be unloaded at a local cinema playing The Legend of Boggy Creek, they were in for quite a surprise. Initially, it may have looked safe with a G rating and a storyline concerning a Bigfoot type of creature. Little did these kids realize they were in for a scary trip through the Arkansas wetlands where there had been stories of a large, two-legged monster over the past two decades. Farmers and ranchers had reported mutilated or missing livestock along with sightings of the creature.

Charles B. Pierce of Louisiana, a local television personality and creator of commercials, made his directorial debut with 1972’s The Legend of Boggy Creek, a quasi-documentary. The film chronicled the search for a seven-foot tall Bigfoot like creature that dwelled in the swamps near the town of Fouke, AR. Pierce allowed local residents to relate their experiences with what became known as the Fouke Monster. Dramatic recreations of sightings and confrontations with the creature were also filmed with local actors playing the roles of real life witnesses.

Adhering to the idea of “less is more,” Pierce never showed a close-up or an otherwise clear shot of the monster and there is no graphic violence or gore. He felt that what you didn’t see was more frightening than a man in a hairy suit. This style of storytelling would serve Steven Spielberg well in 1975 with his epic thriller Jaws.

While the production budget was about $160,000, which Pierce borrowed from a local trucking company, the director achieved an incredibly effective film by shooting in 35mm Techniscope. The photography in the creeks and marshes near Fouke is gorgeous and there are many shots of indigenous creatures and birds. The soundtrack of forest sounds lends a creepy atmosphere to the movie especially in the night scenes outside of local cabins.

The script by Earl E. Smith opens with several eyewitness accounts and some very distant shots of the monster that only define it as a large shape. Then there are depictions of actual contact with the beast where the residents in cabins attempt to kill it with shotguns and rifles. It is in these scenes that we hear the ferocious roar of the animal as it slips back into the darkness. Special mention needs to be made of the excellent narration by Vern Stierman. His news-anchor like professionalism adds an air of authenticity to the docu-drama style of the film.

A serviceable music score is provided by Jamie Mendoza-Nava, which includes a folksong type ballad sung by the filmmaker Charles Pierce. The director also served as his own photographer, using an older camera to which he made several modifications for this film. Pierce is very adept at setting up several jump scares where the creature is suddenly in the frame, often shown from the back. The 2.35 widescreen ratio is vital to these shots and they are quite effective. Another startling scene involves the creature being spotted as it suddenly crosses the road. This is filmed through a car windshield as the occupants are fleeing the scene.

I found the most impressive parts of the film are the two extended scenes where residents in a cabin and a mobile home are threatened by the monster. The whole “something is out there” scenario is well-played as the actors react to the danger in a realistic fashion. No randy teenagers doing drugs in the woods, just parents protecting their families by any means necessary.

Without giving away too much information about the conclusion, I’ll just say that the story has a possible open ending. Multiple sightings of the Fouke Monster were reported by more than 250 individuals over a period of 20 years until the making of this film. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that people in the area continue to see the monster. There were two sequels, one authorized and one not. Charles Pierce made Boggy Creek II: And the Legend Continues in 1984, but by his own admission it was not a very successful effort.

In 1976 director Pierce worked with Samuel Z. Arkoff and American International Pictures in creating his best-known work, The Town That Dreaded Sundown. This film pre-dated the slasher film craze of the 1980s with the true story of a masked killer terrorizing the town of Texarkana, TX. The cast included Ben Johnson, Andrew Prine, Dawn Wells and, once again, narrator Vern Stierman.

I recently communicated by e-mail with Pamula Pierce Barecelou, daughter of Charles Pierce, and asked about the re-mastering of the film. She replied that one of the challenges was locating a quality print. “After gaining permission from Mr. Ledwell (the film’s financier) to pursue the restoration in 2014, I had to find a good print to work from and that hunt took four years. One was finally found at the British Film Institute of all places!”

Ms. Pierce went on to describe the actual process. “I was able to connect with the venerable George Eastman Museum and Audio Mechanics to have to the work performed. I trusted their expertise.”

BY GIACOMO SELLONI

The Act of Reading is Mark Blumberg's first documentary feature. One can categorize it as what's considered a "personal, or me documentary”, as it tells the story of his Ahab-like obsession of finally writing the book report on "Moby Dick" that, without doing so in eleventh grade, caused him to fail his English class. Damn that wickedly, wordy, white whale!

Show of hands from those of you reading this: how many of you can honestly say you made it through the entire novel? Anyone? Buhler? Yeah, neither have I. But we know the story, don't we? From the first line "Call me Ishmael" to the drowning death of Ahab, we all know a bit about the story. T'was obsession that did him in. A lesson, to be sure. Herman Melville's fanatical Ahab predates J.M. Barrie's Captain Hook and his crocodile obsession by fifty-three years. Yes, Barrie based his captain on Melville's.

The film opens, in of all places, Austin, Texas with high school English teacher Vicki Hebert introducing the novel "Moby Dick" to her class. Had we had an instructor with such passion for the material, we too may have been "given membership in a kind of cohort, or club [in which] one finds a, little disturbing, as well as exhilarating sense for many readers that the book was written for them." says Samuel Otter - Professor of English UC Berkeley. I had instructors in both high school and college whose passion was palpable. Paul Noonan and Father Robert Roth, S.J. would "act" what we were studying\, Noonan with Shakespeare's Macbeth and Roth with Plato's Socrates dialogues. That may be why I have a passion for those works as opposed to Melville's novel with its rough sledding through mogul-filled vocabulary along with its "theological meditations" (as voiced by Otter). Many of the characters' names and attributes have biblical roots. Ishmael, Elijah, Rachel. And the name Ahab (according to Wikipedia), "derives from the Hebrew ahavah and aheb meaning "to love" or "beloved".

Blumberg's journey kicks off in New Jersey and takes us many places. He meets with his former English teacher, Janet Werner. He informs her that this film is going serve as his overdue book report. He travels to Bedford, Massachusetts to take part in the annual "Moby Dick Marathon" where he meets Peter Whittemore, the great-great-grandson of Melville and we intrude on some of the aloud readings. Back in Austin, Blumberg's wife, Alissa, meets Elizabeth Doss, yoga instructor, playwright and great-great-great-granddaughter of Melville. She's written a play, "Poor Herman" and we see scenes from it.

We're taken to the Arrowhead Farm in Berkshire county, Massachusetts. It was Melville's home. We, along with Blumberg and Whittemore, learn more about Melville's history, family and 'affair' with Nathaniel Hawthorne. To Pawtucket, Rhode Island, and the Mixed Magic Theatre company where we meet Ricardo Pitts-Wiley, an actor/theatre director who staged "Moby Dick- Then and Now" (we see excerpts) for M.I.T.'s New Media Literacy Project. On to San Francisco where we meet Mark Blumberg's older brother Kris, a nurse who tells Mark, who is attempting to turn him on to "Moby Dick", "I don't read. So I don't think."

Maryanne Wolf - Reading Expert, Stanford University: "Most people believe that reading is something that the brain has that unfolds just like language or vision. It is anything but true. Reading is an unnatural act." Philosophy Professor John Cleary: "How we find meaning is often constructed, not received. The meaning that's found by the student is theirs, they have to possess it and make it theirs...Being wise means that you're engaged with the interpretation of wisdom." And there's an excerpt from Plato's Phaedrus and "the illusion of knowledge." Wolf informs us of how it was Socrates who helped "transition an oral-based culture to a literacy culture and how it relates to us as we are transitioning from a literacy based culture to a digital one with similar issues about memory and delusions of knowledge."

Back to the marathon. Back to the experts. To the museum. To the Whalecave, Queequeg! It all sounds much harder to follow than it actually is.

"The Act of Reading" seems, at times, almost too ambitious. There is so much information here... Clinical experts expound on the nature of learning, on Dyslexia, and how it's been with humanity for over 50,000 years, hoow our capacity for learning comes from reading. Somehow, Blumberg manages to pull them together in this film.

As Vicki Hebert says: "Reading is more intimate than any other media." And, as to why she teaches her students "Moby Dick": "I want them to be happy with who they are. But I want them to be smart about the world so they don't get eaten alive or horribly disappointed.” Why is "Moby Dick" so important to that? This film attempts to answer that question.

"The Act of Reading" is much more intimate than a viewer will expect, especially the final scene at the Blumberg Family home when Mark's former teacher Janet Werner and her husband join the Blumbergs for dinner and film critique.

The film is available to stream as on iTunes or for rent on Amazon Prime.

“THE WEAPON OF SEX”

By Raymond Benson

The great Taiwanese director Ang Lee has worked in Asia and in Hollywood, delivering an impressive array of motion pictures that have won awards, made money, and wowed audiences. A handful of his titles that includes Eat Drink Man Woman (1994), Sense and Sensibility (1995), Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000), Brokeback Mountain (2005), and Life of Pi (2012) place him on a top tier of filmmakers working today. He’s also won two Oscars for Best Director for the latter two titles.

Lee’s 2007 feature that came after the success of Brokeback Mountain was Lust, Caution, a Hong Kong/American co-production that won the Golden Lion Award at the Venice Film Festival, made some waves in Asia and other markets internationally, but was, sadly, little seen in the West. That said, Focus Features, which distributed the picture, has said that Lust, Caution is the highest grossing movie rated NC-17 ever released in the U.S. More on that in a bit.

The film is inspired by the true story of Chinese spy Zheng Pingru, a woman who allowed herself to be the bait in a “honey trap” for a Japanese collaborator target during the Second Sino-Japanese War, which began in 1937 and folded into World War II. The movie is based on a novella by Eileen Chang, and it was adapted for the screen by Hui-Ling Wang and James Schamus, the latter a longtime colleague of Lee.

In the late 1930s, the Japanese have occupied most of China and the country is being ruled by a puppet government. Many Chinese officials, including Mr. Yee (Tony Leung, credited as Tony Chiu-Wai Leung), a handsome, but rather cold elitist who acts as a recruiter and special agent. In short, he is a traitor to his country. A naïve but passionate group of university theatre students in Hong Kong devise a half-baked plan to assassinate Yee by luring him to a remote location. Young Wong Chia Chi (Tang Wei) volunteers to be the seductress, even though she’s a virgin and is clearly out of her depth. The attempt fails, there is a violent disaster (an astonishing sequence that can’t be revealed here!), and the students flee and scatter. The story resumes in 1942 in Shanghai as the students, now resistance fighters, regroup and start their plan anew. This time Wong Chia Chi is much more confident, has been trained, and can do a much better job at seducing Yee. Unfortunately, Yee, despite his villainy, is charismatic, powerful, and teaches the woman a thing or two about sex and passion. Now conflicted, Wong is caught in her own honey trap in which newly discovered lust and her duty to country battle for domination of her spirit. Sex has indeed become a weapon on both sides.

Lust, Caution is a fascinating, beautifully shot movie that is extremely well acted. The period detail is compelling, and the sense of foreboding and oppression that motivates the characters is palpable. The performance by Tang Wei, especially, is courageous and revealing in shocking vulnerability, considering the sex scenes depicted. Tony Leung, a stalwart actor in Hong Kong pictures, exhibits a different persona than one previously seen in his action flicks.

The movie was controversial in many markets because of the explicit nature of the sex scenes and the one sequence of violence. In America, the film was rated NC-17, which is considered box office poison. Ang Lee refused to make cuts, so it was released intact. Other markets censored the picture on their own—for example, China released it in a heavily-cut version, and it was a hit. It must be said that the sex scenes are gorgeously photographed and powerfully presented so that the emotions between the two characters are unambiguous. This is important to the story and serves to justify Wong’s actions toward the end of the movie.

This reviewer’s only quibble with the film is that the ultimate message is a little too cynical. The thrust of the story examines a young woman’s sacrifices of her mind, heart, and body to patriotism, and it brings up difficult moral questions that are not easily answered. This is not a happy movie. In fact, it is quite troubling, and that is likely the point.

Kino Lorber’s new Blu-ray presents the uncensored NC-17 cut of Lust, Caution in a gorgeous digital restoration. It comes with an audio commentary by film historian Eddy Von Mueller. The only supplement aside from the theatrical trailer is a short featurette on the making of the film.

Lust, Caution is a challenging erotic thriller that will appeal to fans of World War II history, Chinese and Hong Kong pictures, and the films of director Ang Lee. For adults with discerning tastes.

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"OUT OF THE PAST: THE BEST FROM CINEMA RETRO'S ARCHIVES"

“A STUDY OF DARKNESS”

By Raymond Benson

One of the more controversial motion pictures to emerge out of what film historians call “New Hollywood” was In Cold Blood, which was released to theaters “for mature audiences only.” The New Hollywood movement began around 1966, when the Production Code finally started to collapse (and before the movie ratings were instituted) and studios commenced allowing auteur filmmakers to do whatever the hell they wanted. The year 1967 was especially a groundbreaking one with the release of such “adult” fare as Bonnie and Clyde, The Graduate, In the Heat of the Night, and In Cold Blood.

In Cold Blood is based on the “non-fiction novel” by Truman Capote about the true crime of 1959 in which an innocent family of four in Kansas were murdered by two ex-cons who believed there was $10,000 hidden in a safe in the house (there wasn’t). Capote spent several years writing the book, interviewing law enforcement men involved in the case, as well as the two killers themselves—Perry Smith and Dick Hickock. The accused were eventually executed in 1965. In Cold Blood turned out to be, along with Vincent Bugliosi’s Helter Skelter, one of the two most successful true crime books ever published.

Richard Brooks was a Hollywood veteran who had been working in the industry since before World War II. In the 1950s, he made a name for himself as a writer/director, especially as an adapter of previously existing material. He had won an Adapted Screenplay Oscar for Elmer Gantry (1960) and had brought to the screen other acclaimed pictures such as Blackboard Jungle (1955), Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958), and The Professionals (1966). Brooks received Oscar nominations for both Director and Adapted Screenplay for In Cold Blood.

Deliberately filmed in black and white at a time when most movies were in color, the picture is a stark, dark, and ultra-realistic depiction of two psychologically-damaged men, brilliantly portrayed by Robert Blake as Smith and Scott Wilson as Hickock. Brooks’ reasoning to film in black and white was that “documentaries were usually in black and white” and he wanted that true-to-life feel. Conrad Hall, the director of photography, used a palette of extreme blacks and harsh whites to achieve a higher than usual contrast (Hall was also nominated for an Oscar). This served to emphasize the darkness that resided in these two men’s souls.

In Cold Blood is a tough picture to watch. It’s very disturbing, even today. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t have its rewards. As a study of darkness, and a display of virtuoso filmmaking, it’s easily one of the better motion pictures of that decade. Brooks considered it to be the best film he ever made, and he’s probably right.

The movie is very faithful to the book with a few minor exceptions, such as the addition of a reporter character who provides some voice-over narration, and the complete elimination of the trial. The only scene from the trial in the film is the prosecutor’s closing argument for the death penalty. Oddly, one figure is totally absent from the movie, and that is Truman Capote himself. As shown in the recent pictures, Capote (2005) and Infamous (2006), the author inserted himself into the convicted men’s incarcerated lives on an intimate level. (It is highly recommended that after viewing In Cold Blood, one might want to take a look at Douglas McGrath’s Infamous, an often overlooked and underrated biopic on Capote that deals closely with the author’s relationship with Perry Smith, who in this case is played by none other than Daniel Craig!).

Many have said that In Cold Blood is a statement against the death penalty, but in many ways, it’s also the opposite. While Brooks does a great job in evoking some sympathy for the killers by portraying the hard life Perry had as a child and other circumstances that brought the two killers to commit murder, it’s also difficult not to side with the jury. The Clutter family—the victims—are presented in such a compassionate light that, in the end—at least for this viewer—the verdict makes complete sense.

The Criterion Collection disc presents a new 4K digital restoration with 5.1 surround DTS-HD Master Audio soundtrack (and the jazz score is by Quincy Jones—also nominated for an Oscar!). Visually, the Blu-ray could not be more striking. The abundance of supplements is also impressive. There are new interviews with: a) Author Daniel K. Daniel on director Brooks, and this is very enlightening; b) Cinematographer John Bailey about DP Conrad Hall and his work; c) Film historian Bobbie O’Steen on the film’s editing; and d) Film historian and jazz critic Gary Giddins about Jones’ score. Vintage interviews include one with Brooks from 1988; one with Capote from 1966 during a visit to the crime scene; and one with Capote from 1967 conducted by Barbara Walters. There is also a short 1966 documentary on Capote directed by Albert and David Maysles. The film’s trailer and an essay by critic Chris Fujiwara in the enclosed booklet rounds out this excellent package.

In Cold Blood is not for the faint-hearted, but it is also hard-hitting, arresting, and brilliantly made. It’s a must for fans of crime drama and those who appreciate a little art with their popcorn.

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BY TODD GARBARINI

The late Loren Adelson Singer, who passed away in 2009, has published several novels as an author, among them That’s the House, There (1973), Boca Grande (1974), and Making Good (1993). His first work, 1970’s The Parallax View, published by Doubleday, was written as an answer to his disdain for the printing business he worked at with his father-in-law and proved to be enough of a success to permit him to become a paid author. The inspiration for the book came from the covert operations he assisted in while training with the Office of Strategic Services and was penned following the high-profile political assassinations of the 1960’s. It also provided the blueprint for the film of the same title directed by the late Alan J. Pakula, the second in his informally named “paranoia trilogy,” bookended by Klute (1971) and All the President’s Men (1976).

The Parallax View concerns the mysterious workings of a corporate entity, The Parallax Corporation, that appears to be behind the assassinations of political nominees regardless of which side of the aisle they sit on. It is 1971 and Charles Carroll (William Joyce) is campaigning while at a luncheon atop Seattle’s Space Needle. Lee Carter (Paula Prentiss) is covering the event for a television news story and her ex-boyfriend, newspaper reporter Joe Frady (Warren Beatty), attempts to gain access to the event but is denied entry when Carter shrugs him off. An associate of Carroll’s, Austin Tucker (William Daniels), speaks with Carter in a short on-camera interview. Two sinister-looking waiters (Bill McKinney and Richard Bull) serve food when suddenly the former shoots and kills Carroll in front of shocked and horrified guests. A chase ensues and the other “waiter” falls to his death.

Three years later, a shaken Carter goes to Frady and unleashes a tale of paranoia, revealing that several witnesses at the luncheon have all died under mysterious circumstances. Frady initially brushes off her concerns until Carter is found dead 24 hours later. Out of guilt, he begins to investigate the deaths and in a major scene lifted straight from the novel he nearly dies himself, outsmarting a “sheriff” who sets Frady up to be drowned at the hands of a deluge running out from a dam (in the novel it’s a “helpful hotel manager”). Frady manages to secure documents concerning the Parallax Corporation from the sheriff’s house and tries to convince his skeptical editor, Bill Rintels (Hume Cronyn), of the links to the deaths. Frady then turns his attention to Austin Tucker and accompanies Tucker and his aide on a yacht ride to talk – until a bomb onboard kills both men and Frady narrowly escapes by jumping overboard. It seems that wherever Frady goes, a Parallax minion is not too far behind. This sets in motion a series of near logic-defying events which results in an ending of ambivalence.

To fully appreciate this film in 2021, one needs to be aware of the climate of fear and panic that must have pervaded the zeitgeist in the 1960’s and 1970’s when seemingly no one could be trusted. After the assassinations of John F. Kennedy in November 1963, Malcolm Little/Malcolm X in February 1965, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in April 1968, and Robert F. Kennedy in June 1968, who really could? The film was shot in the Spring of 1973 while the country was in the Watergate scandal and points to evil forces at work that Frady hope to get to the bottom of. In the novel, Joe’s name is Malcolm Graham and works with Austin Tucker to uncover the mystery.

Conspiracy thrillers of this era concerned with Everyman against the Establishment often possessed creepy, minimalist musical scores and The Parallax View is no exception. Michael Small provides an excellent theme on the heels of his work for Klute prior to passing the baton to David Shire on All the President’s Men (Mr. Shire coincidentally scored Francis Coppola’s, his then-brother-in-law, masterful The Conversation in 1974). It is reminiscent of the music he would later write for John Schlesinger’s Marathon Man (1976).

Walter McGinn, the late actor who sadly died in an automobile accident in March 1977, is excellent as Jack Younger, a rep from The Parallax Corporation who is sent to feel out and vet Frady (who is assuming the identity of “Richard” and wanting to give the impression that he died on the boat) based on his (forged) test results. One can only wonder if Jack has fallen for Frady’s/Richard’s ploy, or if he is actually privy to the deliberate subterfuge – given how meticulous and cold The Parallax Corporation is, and the transpiring of events during the film’s ending, one has to assume the latter. The audience is made to believe that the Corporation is for more sophisticated than the average company at the time, if they have access to top-of-the line intelligence and money-is-no-option/sophisticated surveillance equipment. A shrewd viewer will beg the questions: how did The Parallax Corporation manage to keep several steps ahead of the subjects it intended to kill? Assuming they did had access to top security equipment, how were they able to harness it? One could theoretically drive themselves crazy pondering such questions.

By Lee Pfeiffer

Once upon a time in Hollywood, Shelley Duvall was an acclaimed and sought-after star. She defied the tradition of having to be a sex symbol in order to achieve major stardom. In fact, it was Duvall's "girl next door" looks and persona that ingratiated her to both audiences and critics. She was championed by director Robert Altman and graduated from small parts to major roles in his films. Her star burned brightly but flamed out quickly following starring roles in Altman's ill-fated "Popeye" and Stanley Kubrick's "The Shining", which afforded the role movie lovers most remember her for. Duvall began appearing in undistinguished films and eventually just vanished from sight, facing mental health and financial problems and entering self-imposed retirement from the film industry. In fact, Duvall vanished so thoroughly that few people even knew that she ended up moving to a rural community in Texas where she has been living a modest lifestyle, to put it mildly. In a remarkable piece for the Hollywood Reporter, writer Seth Abramovitch tracked Duvall's current whereabouts and managed to meet her. He found her to be friendly and charming and surprisingly willing to share her memories of her film career and her trials and tribulations in the years that followed.

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“MELODRAMA, MUSIC, AND MAYHEM”

By Raymond Benson

The 1936 Hollywood extravaganza, San Francisco, is a near-epic that attempts to place a melodramatic love triangle (or is it four-sided?—it seems to want to be that) in the context of the catastrophic 1906 earthquake that devastated San Francisco; thus, making the film a melodrama-disaster movie. Oh, but it has singing and dancing, too!—the flick spawned the title number (composed by Bronislaw Kaper and Walter Jurmann, lyrics by Gus Kahn) that became one of the city’s official songs.

Helmed by the even-handed W. S. Van Dyke, one of the Golden Age’s most dependable directors, San Francisco reaches to be too many things. Granted, it is a motion picture that has its fans, especially a devoted following in its titular town. It was indeed nominated for the Best Picture Academy Award of its year; Van Dyke was also up for Best Director, and Spencer Tracy was given the nod for Best Actor (although his role is decidedly a supporting one). However, the movie won only a single award—Best Sound Recording.

Clark Gable and Jeanette MacDonald are the stars in this tale of nightlife folks in the days leading up to that fateful morning of April 18, 1906. “Blackie” Norton (Gable) runs a nightclub and gambling hall called the Paradise. Mary Blake (MacDonald), freshly arrived from Colorado, applies for a singing job at the club. Mary is a trained classical singer, so the fare served at the Paradise is not really her style—but she needs the job. She is also naïve and a bit too vulnerable for the rather sleazy nightlife of the Barbary Coast area. Nevertheless, Norton hires her. Norton’s friend, Father Tim Mullen (Tracy) immediately sees that Mary doesn’t belong there. Wealthy Jack Burley (Jack Holt) runs the Tivoli Opera House. He falls in love with Mary and woos her away to sing opera—where she belongs. That’s when Norton realizes he’s in love with Mary and tries to get her back. Conflict ensues. Father Mullen interferes. And then there’s an earthquake in the final twenty minutes of the picture.

Audiences in 1936 no doubt flocked to the movie to see the then-spectacular disaster footage, which is impressive considering when the picture was made. Unfortunately, it feels as if this set piece is a long time coming. The melodrama on display in the first 95 minutes can induce eyerolling. A major problem of the film is that Gable’s character is a heel and a jerk, and he treats Mary as if she’s his property. Are we supposed to believe that she loves him? Well, okay, he is Clark Gable, the most popular male star at the time. MacDonald is competent—she certainly sings like a bird and looks good—but her character is sadly undeveloped. She also allows herself to be too easily bounced between the men in her life—first Norton, then Burley, then even Father Mullen, and back again, and then to one of the others, and so forth.

There is much to admire, though. Some of the supporting actors are fun to see—Ted Healey as Norton’s sidekick at the club, Harold Huber as the club’s manager, Jessie Ralph as Burley’s mother, Edgar Kennedy as the sheriff… and other faces that will be familiar to fans of 1930s Hollywood. The musical numbers are well staged, and the “bigness” of the picture is notable—San Francisco feels as if it’s one of those “cast of thousands” pictures, even though it isn’t.

Warner Archive’s new Blu-ray is a worthy upgrade to a previous DVD release. Supplements are also ported over from the earlier edition: a nice documentary featurette on Clark Gable (narrated by Liam Neeson); two vintage “FitzPatrick Traveltalks” Shorts on San Francisco; a vintage Harman/Ising cartoon, “Bottles”; and an alternate 1948 ending that was edited into the film upon re-release. The 1936 version ends with a montage displaying “modern” (1936) San Francisco, rebuilt after the destruction of the earthquake. The 1948 alternate simply shows a skyline of ten years later. The original ’36 ending is better edited, fits better, and is appropriately in the main feature on the disk. The re-issue theatrical trailer rounds out the package.

San Francisco is an example of the kind of big movies Hollywood could make when a studio wished to do so. While it’s not a particularly great film, it’s good enough to represent a style and presentation that reflects the time in which it was made.

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“I’VE GIVEN UP KISSING STRANGE WOMEN”

By Raymond Benson

Bob Hope had a stellar career that stretched from the late 1930s through the 1960s, with subsequent star power appearances in his senior years on television in variety and awards shows. His efforts to entertain troops overseas for decades are highly commendable. What many punters today don’t realize, unless one is a Hope aficionado, is that his early solo comedies (or the duos with Bing Crosby) are absolute comic gems. Woody Allen has gone on the record to say that he based much of his early 1970s screen persona on Bob Hope, and one can easily see that nebbish, albeit here decidedly non-Jewish, “character” in My Favorite Blonde.

The story of this 1942 outing is credited to longtime Hope collaborators Melvin Frank and Norman Panama (the screenplay is by Don Hartman and Frank Butler), and it is genuinely laugh-out-loud funny. The one-liners are worthy of the Marx Brothers, and Hope’s onscreen antics solidify his reputation as a superb comedian. The movie is a joy to watch.

The war is on, and British agent Karen Bentley (Madeleine Carroll, a popular U.K. actress who made the move to Hollywood in the early 40s) must get revised flight plans for U.S. bombers to a colleague in Chicago, who will in turn deliver them to the army in California. The Nazi spies are on to her, though, so she must quickly find cover for travel from New York to the west. Enter Larry Haines (Hope), who performs a comedy act with a penguin named Percy, who makes more money than he (Percy nearly steals the movie, by the way). Karen seduces Larry just enough to get him to bring her along to California, as he’s on his way there to put Percy in the movies. The German spies, led by icy Madame Runick (Gale Sondergaard) and Dr. Streger (George Zucco), follow them every step of the way. Both Karen and Larry undergo captivity and near death, and then luckily escape, several times throughout the picture, until they… well, fall in love.

There are some classic set pieces and dialogue exchanges. For example—

“Kiss me, Larry,” Karen implores.

Larry: (hesitating, shaking his head) “I hardly know you! Besides, I’ve given up kissing strange women.”

Karen: “Oh, what made you stop?”

Larry: “Strange women!”

Director Sidney Lanfield keeps the picture moving at a brisk pace, and its brevity (only 78 minutes) is a plus. The lead performers take command of the material and run with it, and the audience cannot help but be pulled along, laughing all the way. This is great stuff.

Kino Lorber’s new Blu-ray release looks good and is appropriately grainy in its glorious black and white. An informative audio commentary by film historian Samm Deighan is included. The only supplement is a collage of scenes from other Kino Lorber Bob Hope titles and a slew of theatrical trailers from the same.

My Favorite Blonde was an extremely popular entry in those early war years when the Allies needed some laughs. There were subsequent follow-ups (My Favorite Brunette and My Favorite Spy in 1947 and 1951, respectively, but the stories are not related). So, grab a copy of this excellent comedy and be ready to have a good time in the old home theater.

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BY TIM MCGLYNN

“If you were a man, I’d divorce you!”

Myra Gardener (Sylvia Miles) insults her stage producer husband, Odell (James Mason), with this line in the 1982 adaptation of Agatha Christie’s Evil Under the Sun during a spat while vacationing on a fictional Italian island in the Adriatic Sea. They are attempting to entice Broadway legend Arlena Stuart Marshall (Diana Rigg) to appear in their next musical, despite her reputation as a spoiled diva. Evil Under the Sun has recently been released on Blu-ray by the good people at Kino Lorber, who have also seen fit to issue new editions of The Mirror Crack’d and Death on the Nile.

The screenplay, by Anthony Shaffer, is loaded with witty and sometimes randy putdowns that help breathe a bit of life into this rather formulaic whodunit from director Guy Hamilton. When Arlena is found dead on a deserted beach it seems that all of the guests at the island’s resort have a possible motive. Innkeeper Daphne Castle (Maggie Smith), a former stage actress who envied Arlena’s success, is fortunate that the famous Belgian detective Hercule Poirot (Peter Ustinov) is on hand to investigate and identify the murderer. We soon learn that Arlena’s death may be related to another killing in Scotland and, as with most crimes of passion, money appears to be the motive.

Poirot was originally visiting the island to meet industrialist Sir Horace Blatt (Colin Blakely) to appraise a valuable diamond that was gifted to Arlene and was returned to Blatt after his affair with the actress ended. Poirot identifies the jewel in question as a fake and Blatt quickly becomes a suspect.

Also residing at the resort are lovers, former lovers, cheating lovers, stepchildren and professional associates of Arlena who, it turns out, all have reasons to wish her harm. The pedigree cast includes British stalwarts Roddy McDowell, Jane Birkin (who also appeared in Death on the Nile), Denis Quilly and Nicholas Clay. There’s even a Hitchcock-style cameo by director Hamilton near the start of the film.

The script by Shaffer slims down the list of suspects by combining several characters from Ms. Christie’s novel. The humor that is added with the barbs traded among the cast is a bright spot, as it helps the story move along at a faster clip. As with many of his previous films, particularly the Bond epics, director Hamilton lets us laugh at the pretentious nature of the resort guests without going overboard with the camp. One especially funny sequence involves Poirot’s efforts to exercise by taking a swim in the ocean. He has previously been identified as somewhat obese and decides to take the advice of his doctor and add strenuous activity to his daily routine.

The cinematography by Christopher Challis is gorgeous, with location shots highlighting the Formentor, Mallorca and Belearic Islands near Spain. Mallorca also happened to be where director Guy Hamilton was making his home at the time. The titles for the film feature beautiful watercolor paintings by Hugh Casson with each picture containing an object or article of clothing related to the story.

The costume design is the work of veteran Anthony Powell and some of the outfits worn by Diana Rigg and Sylvia Miles are gloriously overdone. The music is almost a character unto itself, as composer John Lanchbery has created a score made up entirely of popular songs by Cole Porter. Lanchbery’s arrangements are lush and fit in nicely with the sunny location shots and the open Mediterranean style of Alan Cassie’s art direction. Tunes that stand out are Night and Day, You’re the Top, I’ve Got You Under My Skin and Anything Goes.

Relish once again Robert De Niro's brilliant Oscar-winning performance as Jake LaMotta in director Martin Scorsese's 1980 classic "Raging Bull".

BY LEE PFEIFFER

It's never good when a film becomes the object of derision and controversy while it is still in production. There's a good chance it will be a dead duck by the time it opens to the public. MGM's ill-fated 1982 screen adaptation of "Cannery Row" may not have been a dead a duck when it arrived in theaters but it was definitely a mortally wounded one. The intent was to tell a sweet story about lovable eccentrics so it's not without irony that the film would be drenched in bad will and a legal case that extended for six years before it was resolved. Things started out swimmingly enough with David S. Ward, the Oscar-winning screenwriter of "The Sting", set to not only write the script (an adaption of two John Steinbeck stories: "Cannery Row" and "Sweet Thursday") but to also make his directing debut. Nick Nolte and Raquel Welch were the two leads and production was underway when Welch received a letter from the studio advising her that she was fired forthwith, ostensibly for making unreasonable demands on the set. Welch was shocked, since the only "demands" she had made had been contractually agreed to and were hardly excessive. She suspected that her name had been used to drum up interest in the project with the intent of ultimately replacing her with a younger actress, in this case up-and-comer Debra Winger. Welch was 40 years-old at the time; Winger was 25. Welch had been hoping that the role would finally allow her to be cast in more mature, intelligent parts than the sex kitten characters that had brought her to stardom. The case resulted in Welch receiving a good deal of sympathy from women who had been battling sexism and ageism in all aspects of life. The case dragged on for six years and Welch prevailed, winning a judgment of $10 million. However, it was a pyrrhic victory, as she found she had been essentially blacklisted from starring in feature films. 

It was against this dramatic backdrop that "Cannery Row"'s first time director had to ensure completion of the film. To his credit, he did just that, although the result was largely negative reviews and measly international gross of $5 million. The film is set in Monterey, California and though no specific date is mentioned, we assume it is in the 1940s. The inhabitants of Cannery Row (so named because it once was home to a thriving canning industry that has now gone defunct) are a motley lot of friendly but not-too-ambitious people from the outer fringes of society. The most prominent residence of this skid row community is Doc (Nick Nolte), an educated man who works as a marine biologist, though it is never made clear how he earns a salary by sitting around his modest home studying the  habits of various octopusses that he keeps throughout the house. He's a confirmed bachelor who lets off steam with the occasional hook-up with a local woman. One day a new person arrives on Cannery Row, a young woman named Suzy DeSoto (Debra Winger). Like everyone else, she's endured a hardscrabble life and is looking for stability. Failing to find a "real" job, she reluctantly visits the local madame, Fauna (Audra Lindley) and agrees to become one of her "girls", only to fail in her single encounter with a client. Doc is immediately attracted to Suzy and they play a cat-and-mouse game of flirting with each other before starting to date. Suzy fits into the community well and is embraced by a group of eccentric homeless men who contentedly reside in makeshift houses on the street constructed from disused massive pipe cylinders from the old canning plant. Most prominent among the homeless men are Mack (M. Emmett Walsh), the de facto leader of the bunch and Hazel (Frank McRae), a mentally-challenged African-American who is near and dear to all.  The street guys are supposed to be a lovable bunch but director Ward makes them cartoonish. At one point I came to the conclusion that they would be better suited in a Disney animated film..then- presto!- they appear at a costume surprise party for Doc in which they are dressed like characters from Disney's "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs". One of the other prominent residences of Cannery Row is a character who is so adorable that you suspect he was written into the script simply to bring out the handkerchiefs when he inevitably dies.

Director/screenwriter Ward has his heart in the right place, but not his instincts. The problem with the film is that there is no dramatic "hook", thus no suspense. It's a bit like spending a few days in Mayberry without Andy, Barney and the other funny characters to liven things up. All you get is politeness and boredom. The core of the story is the on-again, off-again romance between Doc and Suzy, but neither one of them is very interesting as a character. Ward tries to inject some intrigue into the story by revealing why Doc abruptly resigned from being a promising pitcher in major league baseball. I don't need to issue a spoiler alert here before telling you what you've probably already suspected: seems he threw a pitch that conked a batter in the head, thus causing him brain damage. This old plot device about the guilt-ridden former athlete who blames himself for a disastrous mishap had moss on it when it was used in "The Quiet Man", "From Here to Eternity" and a couple of Elvis Presley movies. Not helping matters is the fact that Nick Nolte and Debra Winger don't display any fireworks when they are together on screen. Their best scene shows them dancing and allowing Winger to show off some impressive acrobatics.

"Cannery Row" isn't a bad movie, but it isn't a very good one, either. The most impressive aspect is the production design by Richard MacDonald, who constructed a rather imposing street set where most of the action takes place. However, the way the film is lit and photographed makes it always apparent that we are watching actors on well-designed set, complete with large matte paintings. Consequently, the movie begins to resemble a filmed stage production.

The Warner Archive Blu-ray looks very good indeed but the company generally doesn't provide commentary tracks unless they can be ported over from a previous DVD edition. It's a pity because "Cannery Row" has a compelling behind-the-scenes story that is more interesting than what takes place on screen. The only bonus extra is the trailer.

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BY JOHN M. WHALEN

At the opening of “Taza, Son of Cochise,” (1954), it’s 1875 and the great Apache Chief Cochise (Jeff Chandler) is dying. At his side are his two sons, Taza (Rock Hudson) and Naiche (Rex Reason, billed here as Bart Roberts). He asks them to continue the peace he made with the White Eyes after his death. Naturally, if the two sons were in agreement the movie would have ended right there. But in fact, they don’t agree. Taza wants to do as his father said. But Naiche hates the white man and intends to side up with Grey Eagle (Morris Ankrum) and Geronimo (Ian MacDonald) and start the war up again. If that isn’t enough complication to make a movie out of, writers George Drayson Adams and George Zuckerman add in a rivalry between the two brothers over the affections of Oona (Barbara Rush), Grey Eagle’s beautiful daughter.

It’s a good set-up for a story and Universal International intended the film as another of the westerns being produced at that time with the purpose of showing Native Americans in a favorable light. “Taza” is in fact a follow-up to “Broken Arrow,” which featured Chandler as Cochise, another movie about “good” Apaches who’d rather get along with the white man than lift his scalp . Yet, despite the studio’s noble intentions, as you probably already noticed, there is a total lack of any Native Americans in any of the lead roles. That’s how it was in 1954. In that era, Hollywood did not hire many Native Americans for big movie parts. Jay Silverheels, who played Tonto in The Lone Ranger TV series, was a rare exception. As a result, you had some really hard-to-swallow casting of Native American characters back then. Rock Hudson’s Taza is one example, although not as bad as blonde and blue-eyed Chuck Connors in “Geronimo” or Burt Lancaster in “Apache.” Victor Mature played the title character in “Chief Crazy Horse,” and his high cheek bones and Italian good looks almost let him get away with it, except, well, you know, it was big hammy old Victor Mature.

Watching these films today it’s pretty hard to maintain your “suspension of disbelief” at the sight of these Hollywood hunks running around on the warpath with tomahawks and bows and arrows. Hudson himself was more than aware of the problem and said later, according to commentary provided on a separate audio track, he considered this to be his worst film. I wouldn’t go that far. At over six feet tall, with his dark hair and brown eyes, he maintained a certain amount of gravitas in the role and at least had the physical presence to convincingly vault onto his Indian pony’s back with ease and he handled himself pretty well in action scenes involving knives and rifles.

“Taza, Son of Cochise,” was director Douglas Sirk’s second time working with Hudson, and his first and only shot at making a western. He never made another, perhaps realizing it just wasn’t his métier. There is dramatic potential in a story about a man who sides with his enemies, wears an Army blue coat and forms a police force to arrest those of his own people who break the peace. But if Taza ever felt any inner conflict, it’s never dealt with. Instead Sirk focuses on Taza’s desire to prevent needless suffering by his people when they are forced by General Crook (Robert Burton) to move to the dreaded San Carlos Reservation. He convinces Captain Burnett (Greg Palmer) to talk Crook into at least letting him form a reservation police force made up of Apaches in order to police themselves, rather than suffer brutality and humiliation at the hands of white soldiers. Taza must have been a believer in the old saying: “When you’re stuck with lemons, make lemonade.”

“Taza” was one of the last of the movies made during the “golden age of 3-D.” Between 1952 and 1954, 48 films were shot that way. The 3-D process, which was used to lure movie goers away from their television sets, faded quickly because of the many technical problems encountered both in shooting the films and in projecting them in theaters. In “Taza,” however, cinematographer Russell Metty put it to good use, capturing the mountain and desert scenery around Arches National Park in Utah, where the movie was filmed. It also, of course, features the obligatory 3-D scenes with actors and stunt doubles hurling rocks, firing arrows, hurling spears, and men falling directly into the audience’s lap.

I hate to admit it, but I’m old enough to have seen “Taza” in a theater as a kid, and frankly back then I didn’t care about who played what. I didn’t know Rock Hudson from Chief Red Cloud or how historically accurate any of it was. Did Taza actually lead his band to attack Geronimo and kill other Apache warriors in order to save Cavalry Captain Burnett (Gregg Palmer) from certain death? Sounds far-fetched, but maybe they did. I don’t know. And who cares? I had a good time watching “Taza, Son of Cochise” back then and, if you’re willing to make allowances for the time in which it was made, you probably will too. it’s worth catching if only as an authentic artifact of the film making of its time.

Kino Lorber’s Blu-ray presents “Taza, Son of Cochise” in both 2-D and 3-D in its correct theatrical aspect ratio of 2.00:1 from a 2K Master. The picture is very good, with a soft Technicolor pallet accurately capturing the reddish hues of the mountainous desert country. Frank Skinner’s score sounds good, a typical Universal soundtrack of the fifties with tom-toms added. Bonus features include commentaries on separate audio tracks by film historians David Del Valle author C. Courtney Joiner, and 3-D expert Mike Ballew. Also included is the original theatrical trailer, and English subtitles.

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(John M. Whalen is the author of "Vampire Siege at Rio Muerto". Click here to order from Amazon.)

In an article for IMDB, Thomas Doherty presents a fascinating look at how Alfred Hitchcock's 1960 classic "Psycho" changed the patterns of behavior of moviegoers. Doherty points out that from the inception of cinema, audiences "dropped in" to movie theaters in a haphazard fashion, often after the feature presentation was well under way. They would then stay through the start of the film until they got to the scene they saw when they entered the theater. Studios and theater chains launched campaigns to convince movie fans that this behavior was self-defeating. Not only was a film often incomprehensible when seen under such circumstances, it also affected appreciation of the artistic manner in which movies were constructed. However, the campaigns flopped- until Alfred Hitchcock personally oversaw the marketing campaign for "Psycho" in 1960. This extended to the film's classic trailer which didn't reveal a single frame of the film itself. Click here to read how the master director successfully convinced moviegoers to become more sophisticated in enjoying the cinematic experience.

Plummer in "Battle of Britain" (1969).

BY LEE PFEIFFER

Christopher Plummer, the world-acclaimed star of stage, screen and television, has passed away at age 91. Complications from a fall in his Connecticut home were cited as the cause of death. Plummer never had to make his way up the ranks on the big screen. He received prominent billing in his movie debut in Sidney Lumet's 1958 production of  "Stage Struck"- and henceforth he would generally enjoy starring roles. Plummer moved with ease between films, stage and TV, earning critical plaudits along the way, as well as winning two Tony Awards and a late career Oscar for the film "Beginnings" in 2010. He was especially acclaimed for his work in Shakespearean productions in the U.S., England and Canada. Plummer, a native Canadian, became a legend by playing the male lead, Captain von Trapp, in the 1965 Oscar-winning film production of "The Sound of Music". Plummer was initially adamant that he wanted to sing the songs himself but ultimately conceded to having singer Bill Lee dub him in the final cut. Plummer professed to be overwhelmed by the magnitude of the movie's success and over the years made disparaging remarks about its sugary content. However, in later years, he seemed to warm to the film and participated in a reunion with the cast.

Plummer's many high profile film roles include "The Man Who Would Be King", "The Insider", "The Fall of the Roman Empire", "Night of the Generals", "Battle of Britain", "Waterloo", "Return of the Pink Panther", "The Silent Partner", "Somewhere in Time", "Murder by Decree", "Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country", "A Beautiful Mind", "The Last Station", "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" and the 2018 film "All the Money in the World", in which he was called in at the last minute to replace Kevin Spacey, whose footage had been excised. Plummer received an Oscar nomination for his performance. His last major film role was as an autocratic murder victim in the smash hit 2019 movie "Knives Out".

For more about his life and career, click here.