By Fred Blosser

When I was in college, my friend Bill Davis and I spent nearly half a day one Saturday from 11 a.m. to 9 p.m. at a local movie theatre for a ten-hour marathon.  The lineup included Sergio Leone’s “A Fistful of Dollars,” “For a Few Dollars More,” and “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly,” capped with Clint Eastwood’s American Western, “Hang ‘Em High,” an attempt to replicate the Italian filmmaker’s violent, gritty style. It was the equivalent of binge-watching in those long-ago days, before home video and streaming services made it easy to access older films. To revisit favourite movies in that Neolithic age, you had to hope they would return for second- or third runs on the big screen, or wait until they resurfaced on TV in visually degraded, ad-infested prints. The fact that the Leone movies were still pulling in healthy ticket sales on rerun, four years after their initial U.S. release, attests to their popularity. Aside from special events like the periodic return of “Ben-Hur” or “The Ten Commandments,” the only other pictures with the same level of second-run durability at the time were the first five James Bond features with Sean Connery.

The initial success and ongoing appeal of the Leone trilogy prompted Hollywood to import other Spaghetti Westerns in hopes of matching (or at least approaching) the same level of commercial success. The era ran from 1968 to the mid-1970s, surviving even the U.S. box-office disaster of Leone’s fourth Western, “Once Upon a Time in the West.” The operatic epic starring Charles Bronson, Henry Fonda, and Jason Robards was lamely marketed here as a conventional Western, baffling fans of John Wayne and “Gunsmoke.” Adding insult to injury, it suffered wholesale cuts that rendered entire sections of the story incoherent. On smaller investments, more modest imitations in the mode of “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly” fared better. One such picture was Giuseppe Colizzi’s Western, I quattro dell'Ave Maria, a tremendous hit in Europe. The Italian title cryptically translates to “The Four of the Hail Mary,” which sounds more like a farce about comedic nuns than a Western. Paramount Pictures (the same studio that, ironically, mishandled “Once Upon a Time in the West”) wisely retitled the production “Ace High” for U.S. release.

In Colizzi’s film, bounty hunters Cat Stevens (Terence Hill) and Hutch Bessy (Bud Spencer) ride into El Paso with $300,000 in stolen money recovered from train robber Bill San Antonio. They intend to turn in the money and claim a hefty reward. The Bill San Antonio back story referred to Colizzi’s previous Western with Hill and Spencer, “God Forgives . . . I Don’t!” (1967; U.S. release, 1969), but you needn’t have seen the predecessor to get up to speed. Cat and Hutch discover that the bank president in El Paso was Bill San Antonio’s partner, not his victim, and instead of settling for the reward, they demand the entire $300,000, else they’ll expose the banker’s secret. In turn, the banker approaches an outlaw, Cacopoulos (Eli Wallach), who sits in jail waiting to be hanged the next morning. He offers to free Caco (as the scruffy felon is called) if he’ll kill Cat and Hutch.

This being a Spaghetti Western, a genre that reveres double-crosses like no other, thanks to the template set by Leone, Caco correctly guesses that the banker plans to do away with him too, as soon as the bounty hunters are out of the way. Grabbing the $300,000, he flees town on his own quest for vengeance. The money will finance his long-delayed pursuit of two former friends, Paco and Drake, who left him to take the fall for a heist years before. Cat and Hutch follow after him to reclaim the $300,000. Caco finds Paco south of the Border, presiding over the summary execution of rebellious peons, and Drake (Kevin McCarthy, in hardly more than a brief guest appearance) as the owner of a lavish gambling house on the Mississippi. Drake is still a crook who swindles his rich patrons with a rigged roulette wheel. Along the way, Caco and the bounty hunters befriend a Black high-wire artist, Thomas (Brock Peters), whose talent is pivotal for the bounty hunters’ scheme to break into the impregnable casino to take control of the wheel and clean Drake out. Italian viewers probably realized that Caco, Cat, Hutch, and Thomas were “the four of the Hail Mary” in Colizzi’s original title, planning their break-in as Caco fingers his rosary. Following Sergio Leone’s lead, the Italian Westerns loved to tweak Catholic piety.

Colizzi also dutifully copies other elements of the Leone playbook, especially those featured in “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.” Alliances are made to be broken, greed and expediency always overrule loyalty, and the sins of thieves and hired killers are dwarfed by the inherent corruption and callousness of society as a whole. But Colizzi’s cynicism seems superficial compared with Leone’s, and his violence toned down. In the Leone movies, showdowns are “hideous fantasies of sudden death,” to quote the late film critic Bosley Crowther, in which the losers literally line up in groups to be gunned down. When my friend Bill and I watched the Leone marathon all those years ago, we counted a hundred casualties even before we were well into the third feature, “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.” In one gunfight in “Ace High,” Hutch, Cat, and Thomas simply shoot the hats off their opponents’ heads, the kind of slapstick more likely to appear in a comedy Western with Bob Hope or Don Knotts. The final shootout with Drake and his henchman is a parody of Leone’s showdowns, which invariably were choreographed to Ennio Morricone’s dramatic music. Caco has dreamed for years that his reckoning with his traitorous partner would be accompanied by “slow, sweet” music, and so Cat and Hutch order Drake’s house orchestra to play a waltz as the “Four of the Hail Mary” square off against Drake and his henchmen. On one hand it’s a clever idea for viewers who recognise the joke, but on the other, it trivialises the revenge motif in a way Leone never would have.

In another connective thread with “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly,” Eli Wallach’s scruffy character is virtually a clone of his bandit “Tuco” from the Leone epic, even to a nearly identical name. But Leone shrewdly counter-balanced Wallach’s manic performance with Eastwood’s laconic presence and Lee Van Cleef’s steely menace. In “Ace High,” Colizzi already has two mismatched characters who play off each other—Terence Hill’s terse, handsome Cat and Bud Spencer’s burly, grouchy Hutch. Wallach is mostly left to his own Actors Studio devices of grins, tics, and swagger, which is good for fans who couldn’t get enough Tuco but not so good for others who just want the story to move on. Tied up by villagers who intend to torture him to learn the location of his stolen $300,000, Caco relates a long, soporific account of his childhood. The scene serves a dramatic purpose, since Caco is trying to lull a drowsy guard to sleep, but it goes on and on. You’re likely to nod off before the sentry does.

“Ace High” is available in a fine Blu-ray edition from Kino Lorber Studio Classics, offering Colizzi’s film at the correct 2.35:1 ratio in a rich Technicolor transfer. Films like this always looked good on the big screen, but most casual fans probably remember them instead from lousy, pan-and-scan TV prints in the old days. The Blu-ray includes the original trailer, plus trailers for several other Spaghetti Westerns released by KL. The company’s go-to expert on the genre, Alex Cox, contributes a new audio commentary. Cox has always been forthright in his dour opinion of directors like Giuseppe Colizzi, Gianfranco (Frank Kramer) Parolini, and Giuliano (Anthony Ascott) Carnimeo, who turned the Italian Western in the direction of burlesque in the late 1960s, and away from the gritty style of Sergio Leone, Sergio Corbucci, and Sergio Sollima. But his comments on “Ace High” are even-handed, informative, and entertaining.

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(Fred Blosser is the author of "Sons of Ringo: The Great Spaghetti Western Heroes". Click here to order from Amazon)

From Joe Dante's "Trailers from Hell":

Although Charles Bronson had been making movies for nearly 25 years and was quite popular in Europe, this international smash hit made him a superstar for the rest of his career. Michael Winner's provocative saga of a grieving father's vigilante vengeance became a Nixon-era touchstone that engendered four increasingly exploitative sequels over the next two decades. Hard to imagine what originally slated director Sidney Lumet would have made of this with Jack Lemmon in the lead.

As always, you can find more commentaries, more reviews, more podcasts, and more deep-dives into the films you don't know you love yet over on the Trailers From Hell mothership: http://www.trailersfromhell.com

Cinema Retro has received the following press release:

Director Sergio Leone’s monumental Western classic ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST celebrates its 55^th anniversary this year and to mark the occasion Paramount Home Entertainment will release the fully restored film for the first time on 4K Ultra HD^™ May 14, 2024, as the latest addition to the studio’s Paramount Presents line.

One of the most iconic and influential movies ever made, ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST has been restored from the original 35mm Techniscope camera negative by Paramount’s archive team, L'Immagine Ritrovata and The Film Foundation. This restoration honors the 2007 Film Foundation photochemical restoration overseen by legendary director Martin Scorsese by matching its build and color palette.  The result is the definitive home release of the film, which features the 165-minute extended cut restored to its glory. 

A must-own for every cinephile’s collection, ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST will be presented in a Limited-Edition two-disc 4K Ultra HD/Blu-ray^™ set that includes both new and legacy bonus content, as well as access to a Digital copy of the film.  The film is presented in Dolby Vision^™* and HDR-10, along with English 5.1 DTS-HD Master Audio and English Restored Mono Dolby Digital for an exceptional home viewing experience.

Bonus content presented on the Blu-ray Disc^™ is detailed below:

· Commentary by the Hosts of the Spaghetti Western Podcast –NEW!

· A Look Back with Leonard Maltin—NEW!

· Commentary with contributions from directors John Carpenter, John Milius & Alex Cox, film historians Sir Christopher Frayling & Dr. Sheldon Hall, and cast and crew 

· An Opera of Violence                                            

· The Wages of Sin        

· Something To Do With Death

· Railroad: Revolutionising the West

· Locations Then & Now (Gallery) 

· Production Gallery 

· Theatrical Trailer   

Widely considered to be one of the greatest Westerns—and one of the greatest films—ever made, ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST was selected for preservation by the Library of Congress in the U.S. National Film Registry in 2009.  The film stars Claudia Cardinale, Henry Fonda, Jason Robards, and Charles Bronson.

Synopsis

Set in the dying days of the Old West, a struggle to control water in a dusty desert town embroils three hard-bitten gunmen in an epic clash of greed, honor, and revenge.   

ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST will also be available on 4K Ultra HD Digital on May 14.

This is a limited edition. Click here to pre-order now from Amazon.

By Ernie Magnotta

The 1980s were chock full of amazing action franchises and action stars. The stars were legendary: Charles Bronson, Clint Eastwood, Sylvester Stallone, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Chuck Norris, Mel Gibson, Danny Glover, etc. The franchises were just as legendary: Death Wish, Dirty Harry, Rambo, Terminator, Missing in Action, Lethal Weapon, etc. Not to mention the beloved James Bond series which produced five blockbuster movies throughout the 80s, three starring Roger Moore and two starring Timothy Dalton. Then, there were the great one-shot action films of which there are way too many to list here. Of course, martial arts/action; especially those featuring ninjas, were just as popular with cinemagoers. Yes, it was an exciting decade.

In 1985, Cannon Films, led by immortal producers Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus, decided to start a new action movie/martial arts franchise titled American Ninja. Cannon, who were responsible for the popular Missing in Action and Death Wish series of films as well as several well-loved ninja movies which starred the fantastic Sho Kosugi and partly started the ninja craze, wanted Chuck Norris to play the lead role of Private Joe Armstrong. However, Norris declined. Cannon then went on a worldwide search and, after auditioning over 400 candidates, they chose up and coming actor Michael Dudikoff. The well-made movie would go on to spawn four sequels, two of which (parts 2 and 4) would see Dudikoff return as the silent, but deadly Armstrong. Thanks to our friends at Kino Lorber, the original film has now been released on Blu-ray.

Written by Paul De Mielche (from a story by Gideon Amir and Avi Kleinberger) and directed by action veteran Sam Firstenberg, American Ninja tells the story of Joe Armstrong (Dudikoff), a US Army private who uses his Ninjitsu skills when a supply convoy is ambushed by rebels led by a Black Ninja Warrior (Tadashi Yamashita). Now marked for revenge by the Black Star Ninjas, Joe, with the help of his friend, Corporal Curtis Jackson (played by the late, great Steve James), must do everything in his power to rescue the kidnapped Patricia Hickock (Judie Aronson)—daughter of Joe’s commanding officer—and take down the Black Star Ninjas for good.

Made for one million dollars, American Ninja (aka American Warrior and American Fighter) is a solid and entertaining 80s action film with an engrossing enough story, a terrific cast, and exciting action sequences which are more than competently handled by director Firstenberg (who already had some Ninja experience directing the Sho Kosugi martial arts/action classics Return of the Ninja and Ninja III: The Domination for Cannon). The fun, 95-minute movie also features John Fujioka, Don Stewart and Richard Norton.

Trained by 10^th degree black belt and martial arts champion Mike Stone, American Ninja instantly made Michael Dudikoff an action movie star. Over the next two decades, Dudikoff would appear in a plethora of action films. He would also reunite with Steve James two more times in American Ninja 2: The Confrontation and Avenging Force; both directed by Firstenberg. James, who I believe would have become a major action star if not for his untimely death, went on to reprise his role as Curtis Jackson a third time in American Ninja 3: Blood Hunt.

American Ninja has been released on a region one Blu-ray. It is presented in its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio and the film looks and sounds incredible. The special features include an informative audio commentary by director Sam Firstenberg (moderated by filmmaker/editor Elijah Drenner) as well as a second commentary with Firstenberg and Stunt Coordinator Steven Lambert. We are also treated to Rumble in the Jungle: The Making of American Ninja, the original theatrical trailer and TV spot, and a very cool-looking slipcover. This is pure 80s goodness. Don’t miss it.

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Here's a vintage behind-the-scenes featurette on the making of the 1968 western "Guns for San Sebastian" which had Anthony Quinn squaring off against villain Charles Bronson in an underrated gem from the era. Click here to order Blu-ray from Amazon.

By Lee Pfeiffer

A film that became a legendary bomb, the 1977 Western The White Buffalo has been re-evaluated by movie fans in recent years and many consider it to be an underrated classic. Count me out of this assessment. The film is certainly unique: an ambitious attempt to blend the Western and horror film genres, but it falls short on most counts.The United Artists production stars Charles Bronson as Wild Bill Hickcok, who- for reasons never adequately explained- is haunted by terrifying nightmares involving him in a life-or-death confrontation with a giant white buffalo. I didn't know that buffalo come in colors, but I'll cede the point. (Given the dreadful styles of the 1970s, it's surprising the film wasn't titled The Plaid Buffalo.) Simultaneously, Chief Crazy Horse (Will Sampson) is having his own white buffalo problems. Seems the actual rampaging beast wreaked havoc on his village and killed his child. In order to restore his pride and stature among the tribe, he must hunt down and slaughter the animal- or be stuck with the monicker of "The Worm" henceforth. (This must be the Indian equivalent of "nerd".)

The two men are on obsessive journeys and are destined to meet up - but both feel they have the singular right to kill the buffalo. Hickcok meanders through some cow towns under an alias and hooks up with a mountain man geezer (Jack Warden, channeling the ghost of Gabby Hayes) who decides to accompany him on his quest. When Hickcok and Crazy Horse do meet up, they end up saving each other's life in respective ambushes and declare themselves blood brothers. Despite this, each man is determined to be the one who slays the white buffalo.

The film is moody and atmospheric and at times is offbeat enough that, if it weren't for the Colorado scenery, one might suspect this is an Italian Western. Nevertheless, the screenplay by producer, screenwriter and director Richard Sale (based on his novel) is erratic and contains many disparate elements that never blend together in a satisfactory manner. The film is peppered with welcome appearances by many Western favorites (Stuart Whitman, Slim Pickens, John Carradine) but their characters are superfluous and smack of gimmicky cameos. Clint Walker shows up briefly, well-cast and playing against type as a villain. There is also the rather odd presence of Kim Novak in a nothing role as a good-hearted hooker who suffers the humiliation of being rejected by Hickcok even as he shares her bed. (This must be the first case of erectile dysfunction caused by a white buffalo.)

The movie was an attempt by producer Dino De Laurentiis to exploit the dying Western genre by finding a way to incorporate elements of Jaws. De Laurentiis seemed to have a fixation on giant, mythic animals taking vengeance on mankind, as he produced "King Kong", "Orca" and "The White Buffalo" all within a two-year period. Despite the prestigious cast and the fact that this was a United Artists production, the budget was clearly skimpy. The film abounds with shoddy rear screen projection shots and some amateurish sets, particularly in the mountain sequences set at night. There's plenty of plastic snow and the sets are somewhat less realistic than a Christmas window display at Macy's. Then there is the titular character of which much has been written in movie lore. Apparently devoid of anything other than a $20 bill for special effects work, the white buffalo is generally shot in extreme closeup in very brief cuts to mask its ludicrous appearance. Although the buffalo is seemingly immortal and can crash through mountains of snow and cave walls, it never looks any more menacing than a slightly perturbed mountain goat. The analogies to Moby Dick also become a bit too obvious especially when Crazy Horse rides atop the beast, flaying at it with a knife. (just like Ahab and the whale- get it?) All of this is set to an atmospheric if somewhat low-key score by John Barry that fits the proceedings well.

Perhaps the most unintentionally amusing aspect of the movie is the initial meetings between Hickcok and Crazy Horse. The two men face each other and gesture with elaborate Indian sign language- despite the fact they are simultaneously speaking to each other in perfect English! This is as practical as using signal flags to communicate with a dinner companion and seems more suited to an episode of Police Squad.

Despite all of these criticisms, there is something admirable about the concept of The White Buffalo in that the film at least tries to be an original take on an age-old genre. It also represents one of the last movies in which Charles Bronson at least tried to stretch his acting muscles. With his saggy eyes and droopy mustache, he's perfectly cast as Hickcok. The failure of this film seemed to discourage his professional ambitions. With a couple of exceptions (Telefon, Death Hunt) Bronson went happily into B movie hell, churning out low-rent but profitable potboilers aimed at inner city and drive-in audiences. The shame of it is that he also encouraged once respected directors like J. Lee Thompson and Michael Winner to go along with him.

The White Buffalo was one of those major failures that initiated the virtual end of the Western film genre, and it was Heaven's Gate three years later that nailed the coffin shut. The Bronson film has grown in stature as a curiosity in the ensuing years and apologists claim that the chintzy set pieces must have been intended in order to convey the dream-like quality of the plot. Much the same has been said of Hitchcock's Marnie, which was also heavily criticized for its abysmal sets, rear screen production work and use of matte paintings. However, in both cases the hypothesis seems unlikely. They were simply troubled productions overseen by directors who seem to have lost interest in their respective projects. Universal ended up losing money on the Hitchcock drama while United Artists was forced to pick up the tab for the buffalo bill, if you'll pardon the pun.

The White Buffalo has recently been re-released by  Kino Lorber Studio Classics. The transfer is superb, which only makes the white buffalo look even phonier, but that just adds to the fun.  An original trailer is included and this time around, a commentary track has been added by Paul Talbot, author of the terrific "Bronson's Loose" books. Talbot admits he's obsessed by Bronson and his films and provides a master class on the making of The White Buffalo. His track is highly informative, if lacking in humor, as he discusses the career credits of virtually every actor who appears in a speaking role. Talbot's contribution makes the film worth obtaining, even if you had the earlier version.

By Hank Reineke

There were passing moments when watching this gorgeously curated Blu-ray of Phil Tucker’s cult 3-D masterwork Robot Monster (1953) that I mulled its reputation as cinema’s most fabled wreck was undeserved. Surely, I thought, I’ve cringingly sat through worse sci-fi films produced before and since. But then some particularly awful line of dialogue (delivered woodenly, of course), or a bizarre plot turn, or a not-so-special effect, or an inexplicable episode of dinosaur wrangling would interrupt my musings, causing a return to sober reality. Phil Tucker’s low-low-low budget monster-piece is a crazed vision, to be sure. But acknowledging that, Robot Monster is most certainly not one of the world’s worst films: it’s too entertaining to be dismissed as such. On the same token, it’s undeniably one of the most desperate and unhinged cinematic artifacts lensed by an indie Hollywood film-outfit of the ‘50s.

The sullied reputation of Robot Monster is the result, no doubt, due to the merciless flailing of the production by the smirking Medved brothers - Michael and Harry – who infamously skewered the film in their pop-culture, eminently readable and caustic tomes The Fifty Worst Films of All Time (1978) and The Golden Turkey Awards (1980). Still the film’s space helmet and gorilla-suit sporting “Ro-man” (as listed in the film’s end credits) – has somehow managed to become as visually iconic a totem of 1950s sci-fi as the gigantic robot Gort in The Day the Earth Stood Still (2oth Century Fox, 1951) or the Metaluna monster in This Island Earth (Universal-International, 1955).

As is so often the case, the backstory to the creation of Robot Monster is perhaps more interesting than the artifact produced. The screenplay was written by Wyott “Barney” Ordung. The Californian was trying desperately to break into the film business, initially as an acting student working occasionally in walk-on roles, often uncredited. In a 1983 interview with the late film and 3-D historian Ray Zone, Ordung recalled it was in 1952 when he was approached by Tucker – who he’d known casually from working on a previous picture – to write the script for Robot Monster. Ordung recalled he was originally tasked to play the role of the “Ro-Man” – at least in earliest test footage photography.

Ordung’s script for Robot Monster would serve as his springboard into the world of professional filmmaking. Following that film’s release, the Californian would script the war film Combat Squad (1953) as well as another sci-fi guilty pleasure Target Earth (1954). Still (mercifully) unproduced is the script Ordung wrote directly following the release of Robot Monster. That prospective film was, according to Sun Valley’s Valley Times, to feature Ordung’s “3-D comedy” scenario based on “Mildred Seamster’s Hollywood beauty salon.” The plot would “deal with the varied individuals who patronize a beauty salon and their interesting escapades.” Oy.

That film would not materialize, but it was of little matter as Ordung would soon receive his first directing credit when Roger Corman tapped him to helm Monster from the Ocean Floor (1954). Though Ordung had not previously helmed any sort of film production, it was an offer and partnership of economic necessity. Corman agreed to allow Ordung to direct on the condition he contribute $2,000 of his Robot Monster earnings to the new film’s budget and work for “a piece of the picture.” Hey, a break’s a break.

First-time director Phil Tucker too was looking for his first big break in the film industry and was of the mind that Robot Monster just might be the ticket. But his experience working on Robot Monster was, alas, bittersweet. Less than two months following the release of that film, Tucker was found in Fairbanks, Alaska – of all places - shooting his non-union follow-up epic: the seventy-five minute Venusian “science-fiction thriller” Space Jockey – a film never released and now thought lost. Tucker grudgingly told a journalist in Fairbanks that with only Robot Monster to his credit, he had already soured on the politics of Tinseltown.

“The movie industry is stifled in Hollywood,” he director complained. “They tell you what to write, how to produce it, when to direct it, who [to] put in it and when to try to sell it. It’s a tight little island of rulers and it’s a hard place in which to breathe free.” Tucker did confess he wasn’t trying to be a true auteur in any sense of the word: “I’m not trying to create art. I’m trying to make money,” he offered plainly.

The primary stumbling block to Tucker’s earning any monies was New York-born Al Zimbalist, the executive producer and guiding hand of Robot Monster. The movie was the first of the films Zimbalist would oversee as producer – and occasionally as “writer,” though that was mostly as concoctor of “original stories” and little more. Throughout the 1950s and a bit beyond, Zimbalist delivered such bargain-basement fare as Cat-Women of the Moon (1953), Miss Robin Crusoe (1953), King Dinosaur (1955) and Monster from Green Hell (1957) to the pleasures of a mostly undiscerning cinema-going audience. It was also Zimbalist who steered Robot Monster to go the then popular 3-D filming route. It was an unusual decision for an indie film to be shot on a shoestring budget.

It made some sense. Hollywood’s production of 3-D films was at its zenith in 1953. Box Office would note in April of 1953 that no fewer than sixty-two films to offer the 3-D treatment were either completed, in production or in the planning stages. Practically every major studio was readying a slate of 3-D cinematic fare: Columbia, Paramount, RKO Radio, United Artists and Warner Bros. among them. By far, 20^th Century Fox was leading the way with a scheduled twenty-two 3-D films on the drawing board. There were only a couple of independents in the mix, having chosen to dip their toe in the 3-D pool. Al Zimbalist and Phil Tucker’s “newly organized” Third Dimension Pictures was one of them.

The trades reported on March 21, 1953 that Zimbalist was to employ a unique “Tru-Depth system of 3-D” photography for his in-the-works Robot Monster project. Then, a mere week following the start of the film’s production, Box Office noted that Robot Monster had completed shooting… though no release date had yet been set. Zimbalist was so pleased with the results of the “Tru-Depth” system, that in April of ’53 the Hollywood maverick announced the formation of his “Tru-Stereo Corporation.” The company would “make available a stereoscopic 3-D system to independent producers.” “Tru-Stereo” would serve as an affordable, budget-conscious alternative to the more expensive 3-D systems used by the Hollywood majors.

In fact, there were no fewer than twenty-two competing 3-D systems being used by filmmakers by late spring of 1953. (“Tru-Depth” had since been rechristened as “Tru-Stereo.)” The Tru-Stereo 3-D was proffered as being similar to the others: it too employed two cameras to create the three-dimensional effect. But the system also boasted “an authentic interlocking control which is said to insure against faulty synchronization.” Robot Monster had also boastingly employed “a newly developed stereophonic sound system devised by the Master-Tone Sound Corporation.”

The first casting notices for Robot Monster were announced in March of 1953. Handsome leading man George Nader was reportedly hired to play the role of “Roy” following his appearance in the still unreleased pic Miss Robin Crusoe. Nader’s performance in that film impressed Zimbalist who worked on the same as associate producer. Roy’s love interest, Alice (Claudia Barrett) hadn’t much big-screen experience, but had been steadily working on any number of early television series. The film’s egghead professor would be played by the long-working Ukrainian actor John Mylong, his children, Johnny and Carla, by stage-kids Gregory Moffett and Pamela Paulson, respectively.

The role of the professor’s wife went to Selena Royle, an actress with a familiar face due to her long run as a dependable player at MGM. Royle was happy to get the role – any role – as she had recently been blacklisted in the pages of Red Channels, “the American Legion’s list of 200 motion picture workers suspected of communist leanings.” Her crime was the organizing and serving of free meals to the un-and-under employed actors in and around New York City during the throes of the Depression. Royle vowed to fight the accusations, telling journalist her post-blacklist acting income had dropped from six figures to a mere three figures by mid-summer of 1952. Robot Monster would be one of her two final feature film appearances, Royle and her husband choosing to immigrate to Mexico in 1957.

Retro-Active: From the Cinema Retro Archives

The 1961 MGM Western A Thunder of Drums has been released by the Warner Archive. The film was regarded as a standard oater in its day but has since built a loyal following who have been eager to have the movie available on the home video market. What sets A Thunder of Drums apart from many of the indistinguishable Westerns of the period is its downbeat storyline and intelligent script, which was clearly geared for adults as opposed to moppets. There's also the impressive cast: Richard Boone, George Hamilton, Charles Bronson, Arthur O'Connell, Richard Chamberlain and Slim Pickens among them.The film opens with a sequence that was very unsettling and shocking for its day: an Indian attack on a tranquil homestead. A little girl is forced to witness the gang rape and murders of her mother and teenage sister. The plot then shifts to the local fort where commandant Boone is overseeing an understaffed cavalry contingent that has to find and defeat the marauding tribe, which has already slaughtered numerous settlers and soldiers. The Indians are window dressing in the story: nameless, faceless adversaries who are not given any particular motivation for their savagery. (These was, remember, far less enlightened times and such conflicts were generally presented without nuance.)

George Hamilton is the by-the-book West Point graduate assigned to the fort as Boone's second-in-command. He gets a frosty reception from minute one. Boone tells him he doesn't meet the requirements of a seasoned officer who can survive in the hostile environment. The two men spend a good deal of their time in a psychological war of wills. Adding to Hamilton's discomfort is the discovery that his former lover, Luana Patten, is not only living at the remote outpost, but is engaged to one of his fellow officers. The two rekindle their own romance and this leads to scandalous and tragic results. 

The film is based on a novel by popular Western writer James Warner Bellah and probably represents the career high water mark of director Joseph Newman, who was destined to toil for decades helming B movies. He gets vibrant performances from his cast. The ever-watchable Boone is in his predictably crusty mode, cynically second-guessing his officers and men, tossing out insults and sucking on an omnipresent stogie. Boone was so dominant in every role he played, one wonders why he never reached a higher status as a reliable box-office figure. Hamilton is in his standard pretty boy mode, but holds his own against macho men Boone and Charles Bronson, who is cast against type as a somewhat dim-witted character of low scruples. Singer Duane Eddy, who was a teenage pop star at the time, made his film debut here with a degree of fanfare, but it was obviously last minute stunt casting as Eddy is given virtually nothing to do except strum a few chords on his guitar. The film boasts some magnificent scenery and some rousing action sequences that are more realistic than those found in  most Westerns of the time. A Thunder of Drums isn't art or even a great or important Western - but it is fine entertainment and the Warner Archive edition looks terrific. A Blu-ray edition is overdue! The only bonus feature is the original theatrical trailer is included (the one seen above is of inferior quality to the trailer featured on the disc, but it does give a good overview of the film).

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By Ernie Magnotta

Action film icon Charles Bronson did it all. He made westerns (The Magnificent Seven, Once Upon a Time in the West), war films (The Great Escape, The Dirty Dozen), lone cop movies (The Stone Killer, 10 to Midnight) and vigilante films (Death Wish series). Just to name a few. Between 1968 and 1972, after mostly being a supporting actor in Hollywood movies and before become a Hollywood leading man due to films like Mr. Majestyk and Death Wish (both 1974), Bronson did a lot of great work in Europe and starred in many different roles; cop (Rider on the Rain aka Le passager de la pluie), thief (Farewell Friend aka Adieu l'ami), gangster (The Valachi Papers), etc. In 1970, he played a hitman (two years before playing a similar role in Michael Winner’s fantastic The Mechanic) in the underrated Italian-French co-production Violent City.

While vacationing with his lover Vanessa (Jill Ireland, Love and Bullets), professional hitman Jeff Heston (Bronson) is shot and left for dead. Heston survives, however, and tracks the killer down. After murdering him, Jeff decides to retire and live happily with Vanessa. But before the couple can leave town, Heston is asked by crime boss, Al Weber (Telly Savalas), to come work for him. Heston refuses, but Weber produces evidence of Heston’s previous murder. Jeff must now figure out a way to obtain the evidence from the dangerous crime boss and escape unharmed with the lovely Vanessa. However, Jeff is unaware that there are much more sinister forces conspiring against him.

Very well-directed by Sergio Sollima (The Big Gundown aka La resa dei conti, Revolver) from a thoroughly enjoyable script co-written by Lina Wertmüller (Seven Beauties), Violent City (aka Città violenta), is a well-done, entertaining piece of action cinema as well as one of the first examples of the subgenre called Poliziotteschi (Italian crime and action films of the 1960s and 70s which featured car chases, corruption, graphic violence, etc. as well as lone heroes who stood up to the system). Sergio Sollima does a wonderful job directing intricate, entertaining action sequences; most notably a Bullitt-like car chase Sollima swears was ripped off from one of his previous films and not from the 1968 Peter Yates/Steve McQueen action classic.

The adrenaline-charged script not only gives us plenty of action, but also a number of unexpected twist and turns; especially the ending. The well-written characters are made convincing by the estimable talents of Bronson, Savalas and Ireland. Through another terrific, mostly low-key performance, steely-eyed Bronson shows us that not only can he take care of business, but that his character possesses a softer side when necessary. Telly Savalas infuses his vicious character with quite a bit of humor, and the beautiful Jill Ireland gives several dimensions to Vanessa.

Violent City features even more great acting talent such as Michael Constantin (Cold Sweat, 1978’s The Inglorious Bastards), Umberto Orsini (The Damned), and Telly’s brother, George Savalas (The Slender Thread, Kelly’s Heroes).

Last, but not least, the engaging film, which was shot in the United States and distributed (in Italy) by Universal Pictures, benefits from a great musical score by the immortal Ennio Morricone (The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, The Bird with the Crystal Plumage, Once Upon a Time in America).

Although it’s not one of Bronson’s more well-known titles, that shouldn’t stop you. I enjoyed Violent City very much. It’s an entertaining action-thriller with a solid cast and an interesting story. I highly recommend checking it out.

Violent City has been released on a Region 1 Blu-ray from the always reliable folks at Kino Lorber. The wonderful-looking transfer is presented in the film’s original 2.35:1 aspect ratio and the disc also contains a highly informative audio commentary by Paul Talbot, author of the “Bronson’s Loose!” books; a terrific interview with director Sergio Sollima and the original theatrical trailer. We are also treated to a second disc which features Città violenta, the Italian print of the film as well as the 1973 U.S. cut known as The Family. Lastly, both discs feature exciting trailers to many different Bronson films.

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By Lee Pfeiffer

It's easy to look back on the Blaxploitation film craze of the 1970s as a short-lived period that spawned some cinematic guilty pleasures. However, time has been kind to the genre and if retro movie buffs view some of the films that emerged during this era they will undoubtedly find more artistry at work than was originally realized. Case in point: "Truck Turner", a 1974 action flick released at the height of the Blaxploitation phenomenon. I had never seen the film prior to its release on the new Blu-ray special edition from Kino Lorber Studio Classics. It's a violent, brutal film filled with ugly characters and "heroes" who deserve that moniker only because they aren't quite as abhorrent as the cutthroat antagonists they face. Yet, there is something special about "Truck Turner". Amid the carnage and frequent, extended action sequences, there is real talent at work here. Most of it belongs to Jonathan Kaplan, the director who had recently emerged as yet another promising protege of Roger Corman. In fact, Kaplan had just recently completed filming another Blaxploitation film, "The Slams" with Jim Brown, before being drafted into "Truck Turner". The idea of a white, Jewish guy directing a Blaxploitation film may seem weird today but at the time, most of the creative forces behind these movies were white guys, an indication of just how few opportunities existed in Hollywood for black filmmakers in the 1970s. The movies were also largely financed by white studio executives who benefited the most financially. Yet, it cannot be denied that the genre went a long way in opening doors for a lot of talented black actors and musicians, who often provided the scores for the films. Until the release of "Shaft" in 1971 (which was directed by a black filmmaker, Gordon Parks), most of the action roles for black characters seemed to be hanging on the durable shoulders of Sidney Poitier, Jim Brown, Harry Belafonte and the great character actor Woody Strode. Suddenly, there were a great number of opportunities for black actors and actresses to display their talents on screen. The vehicles in which they toiled were often low-budget potboilers, but it did increase their visibility and name recognition. More importantly, black action characters became commonplace henceforth. 

"Truck Turner" has emerged as a genuine cult movie in the decades since its initial release. The movie's oddball appeal begins with the casting of the titular character, who is played by legendary soul musician Isaac Hayes in his screen debut. While Laurence Olivier probably never lost sleep over Hayes's decision to enter the movie business, his casting was a stroke of genius on the part of the executives at American International Pictures, which specialized in exploitation films for the grindhouse and drive-in audiences. Hayes had recently won the Academy Award for his funky "Theme From 'Shaft'" and had an imposing and super-cool physical presence. He also  proved to be a natural in front of the camera. His emotional range was limited but he exuded an arrogance and self-confidence that the role required. Turner is a skip tracer/bounty hunter employed by a bail bond agency in the slum area of Los Angeles. A stunning opening shot finds literally dozens of such agency dotting the urban landscape- an indication of how out of control crime was in the city during this period. Turner and his partner Jerry (Alan Weeks) agree to take on an assignment to track down a local notorious pimp and crime kingpin named 'Gator' Johnson (Paul Harris), who has skipped bail, thus leaving the agency's owner Nate Dinwiddle (Sam Laws) on the hook for the money. Turner and Jerry pursue 'Gator' in one of those requisite high octane car chases that were seemingly mandatory in 70s action movies. This one is quite spectacular and features some dazzling stunt driving. 'Gator' is ultimately killed by Turner and this leads to the main plot, which concerns his lover, Dorinda (Nichelle Nichols). She was 'Gator's  partner in a lucrative prostitution business. The two pimped out beautiful young women who they keep as virtual prisoners on a large estate. Dorinda is the Captain Bligh of madams, routinely abusing her stable of girls and demeaning them at every opportunity. She is enraged by Turner's slaying of 'Gator' and offers a bounty for his murder: half of her stake in the prostitution ring. The offer draws more than a few professional assassins to her doorstep, all of whom promise they can kill Turner. However, the only one who seems to have the ability to do so is Harvard Blue (Yaphet Kotto), a soft-spoken but vicious crime boss who would like nothing more than to make easy money from a major pimping operation. With a small army of assassins, he sets out to make good on his promise to kill Turner. 

Like most action movies of this genre, the plot points are predictable. As with Charles Bronson's character in the "Death Wish" films, virtually every person who befriends Turner comes to great misfortune. This kind of predictable emotional manipulation is par for the course when you're watching 70s crime films and doesn't overshadow the fact that there is a great deal of style evident in "Truck Turner". The dialogue is saucy and witty. For example, Dorinda describes one of her "girls" as "Kentucky Fried Chicken" because "she's finger-lickin' good!" and another as "Turnpike" because "you have to pay to get on and pay to get off." If you think that's politically incorrect, consider that every other line of dialogue has somebody calling somebody else a nigger. Then there's the character of Truck Turner, who - like his fellow  cinematic tough ass crime fighters of the era ranging from Dirty Harry to 'Popeye' Doyle to John Wayne's McQ- seems oblivious to the fact that he is endangering an abundance of innocent people in his obsession to get the bad guys. Turner engages in carjacking and threatens the lives of people who he feels aren't cooperating fast enough. He also has a sensitive side, though, as we see in his scenes with the love of his life, Annie (Annazette Chase). She's recently completed a jail term and only wants to settle down with Turner to live a quiet, normal lifestyle. Good luck. When the contract is put out on Turner, she becomes a potential victim and is terrorized by Harvard Blue and his gang. The film concludes with some terrific action sequences, the best of which has Hayes and Kotto going mano-a-mano inside the corridors of a hospital. They chase and spray bullets at each other amid terrified patients in wheelchairs and on gurneys and in one scene, carry the shoot out into an operating room with doctors in the midst of  working on a patient! The finale, which centers on Kotto's last scene in the movie, is shot with such style that it almost approaches being  (dare I use the term?) poetic. The supporting cast is first rate with Alan Weeks scoring strongly as Robin to Turner's Batman. Annazette Chase is excellent as the ever-patient object of Turner's desire and, of course, Kotto is terrific, as usual, managing to steal scenes in his own unique, low-key way. The most enjoyable performance comes from Nichelle Nichols, who is 180 degrees from her "Star Trek" role. As the ultimate villainess, she seems to be having a blast insulting and threatening everyone in her line of vision. Her final confrontation with Turner makes for a memorable screen moment, to say the least.  

The Kino Lorber Blu-ray is up to the company's usual high standards in all respects. Old Truck never looked better on screen and there are some welcome bonus materials. Director Kaplan provides a witty and highly informative audio commentary, relating how American International was more interested in the soundtrack album they would be able to market than the film itself. (Hayes provides the impressive score for the film, including some "Shaft"-like themes.). He also said that he was originally drawn to the project because he was told the film would star either Lee Marvin, Ernest Borgnine or Robert Mitchum! Nevertheless, he speaks with great affection for Hayes and his colleagues and points out various character actors his used in the film including the ubiquitous Dick Miller, James Millhollin, Scatman Crothers and even Matthew Beard, who played "Stymie" in the Our Gang comedies.  Another welcome bonus is director Joe Dante,obviously an admirer of the film, in discussion at a 2008 screening of "Truck Turner" at the New Beverly Cinema in L.A. He's joined by director Kaplan and stuntman Bob Minor. The reaction of the audience indicates this film enjoys a loyal following. There is also a segment from Dante's popular "Trailers From Hell" web site that features director Ernest Dickerson introducing and narrating the original trailer for the film. The trailer is also included in the Blu-ray, as well as a double feature radio spot ad for "Truck Turner" and Pam Grier as "Foxy Brown". In all, an irresistible release for all retro movie lovers. 

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Here is a 60 second radio spot commercial promoting director Terence Young's 1972 screen adaptation of the bestselling book "The  Valachi Papers" starring Charles Bronson.

ViaVision's Imprint line will release a limited edition, region-free (1,500 units) Blu-ray boxed set commemorating director Walter Hill. Suggest you get your pre-orders in early, as Imprint limited edition sets usually sell out fast. This set will be released in July.

Here is the official announcement:

Walter Hill has been directing films for almost 50 years and has established himself a reputation of delivering thrilling, gritty, and highly stylized films.

This special edition set collects five films and one landmark miniseries from one of the most important and influential filmmakers of modern cinema.

• Hard Times (1975)
• The Driver (1978)
• The Long Riders (1980)
• Extreme Prejudice (1987)
• Johnny Handsome (1989)
• Broken Trail (2006)

Featuring performances from some of Hollywood’s greatest actors including Charles Bronson, James Coburn, Bruce Dern, Mickey Rourke, Forest Whitaker, Morgan Freeman & Robert Duvall.

Limited Edition 8-Disc Hardbox. 1500 copies only.

Hard Times (1975) – Imprint Collection #164

In the middle of the Great Depression, Chaney (Charles Bronson, Death Wish) is just looking to catch a break. When he meets Speed (James Coburn, The Magnificent Seven), a promoter of bare-knuckle street fighting, Chaney thinks with his fighting skill and Speed’s savvy, he might have a chance. But Speed has his own problems, and what seemed like a sure thing is not as simple.

This gritty, compelling drama is the directorial debut of Walter Hill.

Starring Charles Bronson, James Coburn, Jill Ireland & Strother Martin.

Special Features & Technical Specs:

• 1080p high-definition presentation on Blu-ray from a restored 4K master
• Special features TBC
• Original Aspect Ratio 2.35:1
• Audio English DTS-HD 5.1 Surround + LPCM 2.0
• Optional English subtitles

The Driver (1978) – Blu-ray & 4K – Imprint Collection #165

Ryan O’Neal plays the Driver, an ice-cool getaway “Wheel Man” for hire. Bruce Dern is the detective who becomes obsessed with catching him. The more O’Neal leaves tantalising clues at the crime scenes, the more Dern becomes a man possessed with catching his prey.

This cult neo-noir thriller is presented on both 4K UHD and Blu-ray.

Starring Ryan O’Neal, Bruce Dern, Isabelle Adjani, Joseph Walsh & Ronee Blakley.

Special Features & Technical Specs:

4K UHD Disc

• NEW 4K restoration by StudioCanal
• Walter Hill Masterclass – featurette
• Interview with Walter Hill
• Alternate Opening
• Original English Trailer
• Original German Trailer
• 13 Original Teasers

Blu-ray Disc

• 1080p High-definition presentation on Blu-ray from a restored 4K master
• NEW Audio Commentary by film historian and critic Matthew Asprey Gear (2022)
• NEW Cut to the Chase – interview with actor Bruce Dern on The Driver (2022)
• NEW Teeth Bared – interview with actor Rudy Ramos on The Driver (2022)
• NEW Simplicity in Motion: Editing The Driver – interview with editor Robert K. Lambert (2022)
• Aspect Ratio 1.85:1
• Audio English LPCM 2.0 Mono
• Optional English HOH subtitles

The Long Riders (1981) – Imprint Collection #166

The Long Riders is Hill’s version of the story of the James-Younger gang. Held as heroes by many, and much celebrated for its attacks upon the railroad, the gang became the most famous band of outlaws in the country. They were eventually brought to ruin by the Pinkerton detective agency, losing many of their number in the ill-fated Northfield, Minnesota bank raid.

Four sets of real-life brothers – the Carradines, the Keachs, the Quaids and the Guests – star in this classic western.

Starring Keith Carradine, James Remar, Dennis Quaid, Stacy Keach, Robert Carradine & David Carradine.

Special Edition 2-Disc Set.

Special Features & Technical Specs:

Disc One

• 1080p High-definition presentation on Blu-ray from a restored 4K master
• Audio Commentary by film historians Howard S. Berger, Steve Mitchell and Nathaniel Thompson
• NEW Audio Commentary by film historian Toby Roan
• Aspect Ratio 1.85:1
• Audio English LPCM 2.0 Mono
• Optional English HOH subtitles

Disc Two

• Interview with actors Keith Carradine and Robert Carradine
• Interview with actors Stacy Keach and James Keach
• Interview with actor Randy Quaid
• Interview with actor Nicholas Guest
• Interview with director Walter Hill
• Interview with composer Ry Cooder
• Interview with producer Tim Zinnemann
• Outlaw Brothers: The Making of The Long Riders – documentary
• The Northfield Minnesota Raid: Anatomy of a Scene – featurette
• Slow Motion: Walter Hill on Sam Peckinpah – featurette
• Theatrical Trailer

Extreme Prejudice (1987) – Imprint Collection #167

Extreme Prejudice stars Nick Nolte as tough, no-nonsense Texas ranger Jack Benteen, whose childhood friend Cash (Powers Boothe) is now a ruthless drugs baron on the other side of the border. Jack finds himself recruited by the CIA to eliminate Cash, who allegedly has secret government documents.

Starring Nick Nolte, Powers Boothe, Rip Torn, Maria Conchita Alonso & Michael Ironside.

Special Features & Technical Specs:

• 1080p high-definition presentation on Blu-ray from a restored 4K master
• NEW Audio Commentary by film critic / author Walter Chaw
• NEW Audio Commentary by film historians Daniel Kremer and Nat Segaloff
• Audio commentary by film historians C. Courtney Joyner and Henry Parke
• Interview with director Walter Hill (2010)
• Isolated Score Selections and Audio Interview with music historian John Takis
• The Major’s Agenda – interview with actor Michael Ironside
• The War Within – interview with actor Clancy Brown
• Capturing The Chaos – interview with director of photography Matthew F. Leonetti
• Theatrical Trailer
• Vintage Electronic Press Kit
• Photo Gallery
• Original Aspect Ratio 1.85:1
• Audio English LPCM 2.0 Stereo
• Optional English HOH subtitles

Johnny Handsome (1989) – Imprint Collection #168

Severely-deformed petty criminal Johnny Handsome (Mickey Rourke) is double-crossed in a robbery and left to take the rap on his own. He is stabbed in jail and sent to hospital, where a prison doctor decides that plastic surgery and a fresh start will lead Johnny on the path to reform. However, when the handsome new Johnny emerges from prison, his potential fresh start in life is hampered by his desire to get even with the man who put him away.

Starring Mickey Rourke, Ellen Barkin, Morgan Freeman & Forest Whitaker.

Special Features & Technical Specs:

• 1080p high-definition presentation on Blu-ray from a restored 4K master
• NEW Audio Commentary by film critic and author Walter Chaw (2022)
• NEW Audio commentary by film critics Daniel Kremer and Scout Tafoya (2022)
• NEW Interview with actor Peter Jason
• Codes to Live By: Walter Hill on Johnny Handsome – featurette
• Wordsmith – interview with writer Ken Friedman (2010)
• Eye of the Beholder – interview with makeup artist Michael Westmore (2010)
• Action Man – interview with stuntman Allan Graf (2010)
• Theatrical Trailer
• Original Aspect Ratio 1.85:1
• Audio English LPCM 2.0 Stereo
• Optional English HOH subtitles

Broken Trail (2006) – Imprint Collection #169

Set in 1897, Print Ritter (Robert Duvall) and his estranged nephew Tom Harte (Haden Church) become the reluctant guardians of five abused and abandoned Chinese girls. Ritter and Harte’s attempts to care for the girls are complicated by their responsibility to deliver a herd of horses while avoiding a group of bitter rivals, intent on kidnapping the girls for their own purposes. Classic Western action takes centre stage in this dramatic miniseries!

This critically acclaimed miniseries is the winner of four Emmy Awards.

Starring Robert Duvall, Thomas Haden Church & Greta Scacchi.

Special Features & Technical Specs:

• 1080p high-definition presentation on Blu-ray from a restored 4K master
• Broken Trail: The Making of a Legendary Western – featurette
• Aspect Ratio 1.78:1
• Audio English DTS HD 5.1 Surround + LPCM 2.0 Stereo
• Optional English subtitles

Any pre-order titles will be dispatched in the week leading up to its aforementioned release date. Special features and artwork are subject to change.

Click here to to order.  (Prices are in Australian dollars. Use currency converter to see value in your local currency.)

RETRO-ACTIVE: FROM THE CINEMA RETRO ARCHIVES

BY LEE PFEIFFER

Tony Curtis, like most aspiring screen stars, slogged through bit parts in unmemorable films when he first broke into the industry in the late 1940s. By the mid-1950s, however, he was a major star, even if the films he top-lined were relatively undistinguished. With his boyish good looks and New York wise guy persona, Curtis excelled at playing charismatic rogues and, perhaps improbably for a guy born in the Bronx, cowboys, knights and other exotic men of action. But Curtis was more than just a pretty face and by the late 1950s he was getting challenging roles that allowed him to show off his dramatic acting skills. He was brilliant in "Sweet Smell of Success" and "The Defiant Ones" and gave one of the great comedic performances of all time in Billy Wilder's "Some Like It Hot". By the late 1960s, however, his star power was fading. He still had enough clout to get the male leads in lightweight comedies like "Sex and the Single Girl" and "Don't Make Waves", but the bloom was off the rose. Ironically, he won fine reviews for his convincing performance in the 1968 film "The Boston Strangler", but most of the good roles would continue to elude him. Like many fading American stars, he turned toward European productions, starring in "Those Daring Young Men in the Jaunty Jalopies" and "You Can't Win 'Em All", the latter with fellow U.S. import Charles Bronson who found major stardom in Europe long before he became a big name in America. One of the least prestigious films that Curtis appeared was titled "On the Way to the Crusades, I Met a Girl Who...", a 1967 sex comedy filmed in Italy and which would not be released in the USA until 1969, when it had limited distribution. Perhaps because theater owners in the UK and USA had pity on the poor souls who had to stand on ladders and put film titles on theater marquees letter-by-letter, the English language version of the film was shortened to the more provocative "The Chastity Belt". Curtis wasn't the only English-speaking actor in the otherwise all-Italian production, as Hugh Griffith and John Richardson were co-starred.

The film opens with Curtis playing against type as Guerrando de Montone, a sniveling, cowardly and bumbling opportunist who finally is granted his wish to be made a knight. As his reward, he is entitled to claim a vast tract of land as his own. Guerrando is quick to abuse his power over the peasants, especially when he discovers that the local game warden and his voluptuous daughter, Boccadoro (Monica Vitti) live on his land. Although Boccadoro is initially attracted to him, Guerrando's misogynistic ways quickly alienate her. Guerrando informs her that he is her lord and master and will use her for sexual pleasure whenever he pleases. Most of the fun in the script, which was co-written by the esteemed Larry Gelbart, centers on the buxom beauty's strategies to avoid going to bed with Guerrando, who becomes increasingly frustrated. To solve the problem, he forces her to marry him but she delays the consummation of the marriage by invoking a rare, ancient ritual that commits them both to spending three days in constant prayer. When that obstacle is removed, Guerrando is ready to make his move only to find that he has been summoned to join the Crusades and leave Italy for a period of years. To ensure that Boccadoro remains chaste, he has her fitted with a chastity belt which causes her to swear vengeance. The film meanders through the couple's misadventures with Boccadoro intent on finding her husband and murdering him. She poses as a knight in armor and infiltrates his camp but both are kidnapped by an evil, horny sultan (Hugh Griffith) who forces Guerrando to convert to Islam while he makes plans to open the chastity belt and have his way with Boccadoro.The whole thing ends in a madcap chase with heroes and villains chasing each other about a castle.

Italian cinema-goers were very enamored of sex farces during this period. "The Chasity Belt" is one of the tamest, as there is no nudity and the most provocative aspects are plentiful shots of Ms. Vitti's ample bosom bouncing around during the many chase scenes. Like most films of the genre, there are plenty of moments of slapstick and narrow escapes. What impresses most about this modest production is director Pasquale Festa Campanile's light touch and the ability to move the action at such a rapid pace that you don't ponder how predictable it all is. While it's still a bit of a shock to see someone of Curtis's stature in this "B" level comedy, he is in good form and provides plenty of laughs by not even attempting to disguise his New Yawk accent. He is matched by the very likable Vitti and Hugh Griffith, who recycles his lovable rascal shtick from "Ben-Hur". What is stands out most are the rather spectacular locations. Most of the action is shot outdoors in ancient ruins and castles that add a good deal of atmosphere to the goings on.

"The Chasity Belt" is the kind of film that Curtis probably did very reluctantly. He would later try his hand in television co-starring with Roger Moore in the sensational action series "The Persuaders", but it lasted only 24 episodes. A later series, "McCoy" lasted only a single season. Curtis would still turn up in a few major films like "The Mirror Crack'd" and "The Last Tycoon" but only in supporting roles. Nevertheless, he remained enjoyable to watch and always gave his best effort. Perhaps for that reason, "The Chastity Belt" is a lot more worthwhile than you might imagine.

The Warner Archive DVD is generally very good with a few blotches and grainy frames, but one suspects there aren't too many archival prints of this long-forgotten film floating around out there. There are no bonus extras.

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By Lee Pfeiffer

Michael Winner emerged as a promising young director/screenwriter/film editor in the early 1960s and his career gained momentum when the mod movement of the mid-Sixties made London the go-to place for everything and everyone who was hip. Winner fit into that category very neatly. He was wealthy, charismatic, talented and very much a key member of the city's thriving social scene. He made offbeat comedies that appealed to young audiences such as "The Jokers" and "I'll Never Forget What'sis Name". Soon he was making big studio films and was accorded substantial budgets to do so. He was quite diverse in his subject matter. "Hannibal Brooks" was a WWII comedy, "The Games" a drama set at the Olympic, "The Nightcomers", an ambitious prequel to Henry James's classic ghost story "The Turn of the Screw". He made good Westerns such as "Lawman" and "Chato's Land" and his numerous collaborations with Charles Bronson were crucial in finally elevating Bronson to major star status after being regarded as a reliable character actor for many years. Winner's biggest hit starred Bronson: the 1974 urban  thriller "Death Wish" that perfectly reflected the real-life paranoia of America's soaring crime rate. The film was provocative and controversial, much to Winner's delight, and it made a ton of money. But soon after, Winner's fortunes in cinema began to decline. He seemed to have backward momentum and most of his films were poorly received by critics and audiences, even though occasionally a few proved to be underrated including his 1978 remake of "The Big Sleep" that was fittingly as confusing as the classic original.

One of Winner's least-remembered films from this era is "Firepower", released in 1979, which starred James Coburn and Sophia Loren. Like most of Winner's recent movies, it didn't light any fires at the boxoffice, but it has an impressive cast and production values that elevate the film above the embarrassing "Death Wish" sequels Winner would later preside over that gave him a resurgence of relevance. The film literally opens with a bang when a scientist opens a letter bomb and is blown to smithereens. He's the husband of Adele Tasca (Sophia Loren), who suspects the assassination was orchestrated by her husband's employer, the mysterious billionaire Karl Stegner, because he had discovered that Stegner was distributing a drug that could result in patients contracting cancer. Stegner is also wanted by the U.S. government for high-end criminal activities. There's one major problem: Stegner maintains a Howard Hughes-like lifestyle and no one even knows what he looks like. FBI agent Frank Mancuso (Vincent Gardenia) leans on crime figure Sal Hyman (Eli Wallach) to use his connections to locate Stegner in return for having pending criminal charges against him dropped. Hyman, in turn, reaches out to another man of mystery, Jerry Fannon (James Coburn), to get the job done in return for an eye-popping fee. Fannon is the ultimate Mr. Fix-It, having pulled off seemingly impossible tasks for other shady characters. Fannon enlists his trusted right-hand man, Catlett (O.J. Simpson) for the assignment and the two set off to the island of Curacao in the Caribbean, where he has learned Stegner is residing in a seaside mansion protected by an army of bodyguards who report to his top assistant, Leo Gelhorn (George Grizzard, successfully cast against type in an action role.)

Things get complicated when Adele arrives on the scene, ostensibly to find a way to expose and kill Stegner herself. But Fannon soon sees she might actually be in league with her husband's murderer. As with scenarios of this type, Fannon is welcomed into Stegner's hacienda by his prey. In this case, Stegner remains unseen but Fannon is afforded some courtesies by Gelhorn and Stegner's personal physician, Dr. Felix (Tony Franciosa). The Bond-like scenario finds heroes and villains exchanging witticisms and veiled threats very politely over drinks in a luxurious environment. Of course, the detente doesn't last long and the action becomes frequent and explosive. There's a goofy and thankfully brief subplot that finds Coburn face-to-face with his exact double, who he employs as part of his strategy but the screenplay by frequent Michael Winner collaborator Gerald Wilson affords some unexpected plot twists and genuine surprises and Winner handles the action scenes very well indeed, even if they not very original. For example, Coburn employs a bulldozer to demolish a house, which is fun to watch, but Robert Mitchum had already performed the same feat on screen a couple of years before in more spectacular fashion in "The Amsterdam Kill". The gorgeous Caribbean locations add a degree of luster to the production. The cast comes through, with Coburn especially fun to watch. Loren, who was paid $1 million to appear in the film, looks sensational but the role is somewhat underwritten and the inevitable romantic moments between Coburn and Loren's characters are rather dull and perfunctory. Eli Wallach and Vincent Gardenia are relegated to extended cameo roles and the film ends with a strange but welcome brief appearance by Victor Mature that is played for laughs.I should also mention the impressive stunt work performed by Terry Leonard and his crew.

(Warning: the video below contains spoilers!)

"Firepower" was produced by Sir Lew Grade, who originally had Charles Bronson agree to star in the film. At the last minute, Bronson pulled out and Grade considered canceling the production. However, he had already sunk a good deal of money into the project and signed James Coburn as the lead. Coburn would later recall,  "I did it for the money, the locations (the Caribbean islands) and to work with Sophia Loren. The director was Michael Winner. He’s probably one of the weirdest guys I’ve ever met. Yet, I thought he was a good guy when I first met him. But when he got on the set, he was almost like a total dictator. I found it hard to work for that way. The most fun I had was when I got to drive a bulldozer through a house in the islands." For all the effort, the film was greeted with negative reviews and a weak boxoffice take. The movie is available on Blu-ray as a collaboration between Kino Lorber and Scorpion Releasing. The transfer looks great and the disc includes the original trailer.

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By Hank Reineke

In the autumn of 1963 the Macmillan Co. published Rohan O’ Grady’s third suspense novel Let’s Kill Uncle. The book’s appearance was certain to command some critical and public notice: the dust jacket and title page was adorned with the idiosyncratic illustrations of Edward Gorey. The cover blurb offered a small glimpse of what awaited readers: “In an idyllic, peaceful island setting two charming children on summer holiday conspire to execute the perfect murder – and get away with it.” Though a macabre premise, the book was well-received, the Baltimore Sun, Boston Globe, Pittsburgh Press, New York Newsday and Chicago Tribune singing its praises. Toronto’s Globe and Mail crowed Let’s Kill Uncle was “the jolliest thriller of any year.”

One fan of the novel was the producer-director William Castle, the undisputed grifting King of Ballyhoo. Castle optioned the property shortly after its appearance with no immediate plans for production set. After scoring handsomely with his 1959 indie House on Haunted Hill with Vincent Price, Castle had signed on with Columbia Pictures for a four-film deal in March of 1959 (later extended beyond the original four pics). Between 1959 and 1964 Castle delivered such popcorn-munching guilty-pleasures as The Tingler, 13 Ghosts, Mr. Sardonicus, and Strait-Jacket, amongst others. Then, in October 1963, Universal Picture’s Vice-President of Production, Edward Muhl, signed Castle to a three-picture deal for a series of “cost-control” films.

Castle’s trio of films for Uni were less celebrated and money-spinning than his earlier efforts. His second and most recent effort for the studio, I Saw What You Did (1965) did little to buffer his reputation as a filmmaker nor cash-cow guarantor. As one critic from the Los Angeles Times sulked, “I Saw What You Did, William Castle, and as usual I am not impressed.” Castle’s final film in his three-pic contract would be Let’s Kill Uncle. By all indicators, the production of Let’s Kill Uncle would be a rushed affair. One Hollywood correspondent – having already visited director Brian G. Hutton rehearsing his cast on the set of The Pad – chose to drop by the adjourning soundstage where first-day shooting of Let’s Kill Uncle was in process. The columnist was quick to note the film’s “rough edges” were already showing. The writer noted the fast and frugal Castle had already shot more film during his brief visit than Hutton would shoot in an entire day.

Castle had reason to work quickly. In October of 1965, Variety reported the director/producer was soon to again jump ship, having just inked a multi-picture deal with Paramount. That contract called for Castle to report to his new bosses on New Year’s Day 1966. Though Castle was scheduled to begin work on Let’s Kill Uncle on December 10, 1965, actual production evidently would not commence until December 20. The clock was ticking.

One reason for the delay was Castle’s decision to wait on the availability of “moppet Mary Badham,” the child actress cast as “Chrissie” in the film. The thirteen-year old was not yet finished completing work on Sydney Pollack’s drama This Property is Condemned with Natalie Wood, Robert Redford and Charles Bronson. Another thirteen-year-old, Pat Cardi, was to join the cast as Barnaby Harrison, the principal target of his black-hearted Uncle, Major Kevin Harrison (Nigel Green). Though Cardi’s name was a mostly unfamiliar one, his face certainly was. The child actor was frequently seen on television screens in a cavalcade of small roles. Linda Lawson, cast to play Chrissie’s aunt Justine, was a virtual novice looking for a break. Castle had met Lawson four years earlier when she delivered mail to him at his Columbia Pictures office.

It’s unclear if Nigel Green was originally sought out by Castle to play the “Uncle” role. There were reports as late as December that Leslie Nielsen “had worked out his shooting schedule on Beau Geste so he can accept a role in Uncle.” If indeed Nelson was Castle’s first choice to play the Major, the resulting film - as it stands - might have benefited from the actor’s gift for light-comedy. Whatever the case, Green – just recently seen as another “Major” in the Len Deighton/Sidney J. Furie production of the spy-thriller The Ipcress File (1965) – was brought on. Green’s comedic skills were not his strong suit, and it wasn’t the best bit of casting. But then everything about Let’s Kill Uncle seems a bit askew.

The shortcomings of this film weighed heavily on the scripting. Castle’s schedule 1963-1965 was a particularly busy one, so it’s not surprising his optioning of Let’s Kill Uncle was not exercised immediately. In April of 1965 things started moving, Variety reporting the playwright Robert L. Joseph had been conscripted to adapt O’ Grady’s book as a film treatment, with tentative plans to start production sometime “next summer.” Whatever the circumstances, Joseph’s treatment – if submitted at all – was found not up-to-snuff. The responsibility of delivering a workable adaptation fell to Mark Rodgers, a writer almost exclusively known for his work on television.

It was, to be fair, a tough work to adapt, as the grim humor and dark whimsy of O’ Grady’s novel was seamlessly embroidered into a textual tapestry – a bit of psychological chess-game plotting not easy to convey visually. Castle chose to dispense and/or modify many of the novels’ original elements. The setting of the novel is an island off of the Canadian Pacific coast, there are Mounties trooping about, the treacherous Uncle” is named “Sylvester,” and there’s even a “soliloquizing” talking cougar named “One-Eye.” The filmmakers of Let’s Kill Uncle chose to move the action to an un-named sub-tropical location of palm trees and bananas, there’s no Mounties or (worse yet!) a talking cougar. The killer Uncle’s moniker was changed from Sylvester to “Kevin Harrison.” (As has “Chrissie’s.” She’s “Christie” in the novel).

While these small name changes don’t really figure in or matter to the final product, the absence of “One-Eye” is unforgivable. As is the lack of suspense one might have expected. The only good thing about moving the locale from the Canadian coast to the tropics is the welcome – if brief - appearance of Nestor Paiva as the Steward of the steamer bringing Barnaby and Chrissie to their new island homes. Paiva, one might recall, was the captain of the Rita, the ship slow-trolling the wilds of the Amazon in search of The Creature from the Black Lagoon. It’s Nestor who informs young Barnaby that the island is cursed, which isn’t too far off the mark, at least for him.

The film never really catches fire. I was hoping to glean Castle’s thoughts on Let’s Kill Uncle in his memoir Step Right Up! I’m Gonna Scare the Pants Off America, but the director/producer makes no mention of the film’s production nor reception in the book. The slight filmography in his book’s back pages gives Let’s Kill Uncle only the briefest of notice: “Technicolor murder movie starring kids and Nigel Green.” (It should be noted Director of Photography Harold Lipstein delivers a film of eye-popping color saturation, the film’s singular saving grace).

The film was mostly dismissed by critics upon its release – but there were a few actually enjoyed it. One critic from Box Office mulled the film’s failure was due to the “scene-chewing and downright brattish character traits” of Cardi and Badham, that the “homicidal plans” of Uncle Kevin might have proved “a blessing in disguise” had they been carried out. I generally like William Castle’s shoestring 1960’s psycho-horrors as much as the next guy (assuming that “next guy” also has lowbrow tastes in cinema), but I found the ninety-two minutes of Let’s Kill Uncle a slow torture. Castle’s fans will at least enjoy the bonus featurette Mr. Castle and Me: An Interview with Actor Pat Cardi, which offer a small peek behind the curtain.

This Kino Lorber Studio Classics Blu-ray edition of Let’s Kill Uncle is presented in 1920 x 1080p, with a ratio of 1.85:1, dts sound, and removable English sub-titles. The film looks absolutely brilliant, Kino having struck the print from a “Brand New 2K Master.” The set rounds off with two theatrical trailers of the film as well as the commentaries of film historians Kat Ellinger (Diabolique magazine) and the (now sadly recently deceased) author of Teen Movie Hell, Mike McPadden.

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(Margolin with Charles Bronson in the 1974 film "Death Wish".)

By Lee Pfeiffer

Actor and director Stuart Margolin has died at age 82. No details or cause of death have been released as of this writing. Margolin's professional credits began in the early 1960s. He quickly became and in-demand character actor appearing in popular shows such as "The Fugitive", "Love, American Style", "The Alfred Hitchcock Hour", "Bewitched", "The Monkees", "Gunsmoke", "M*A*S*H", "Hill Street Blues", "The X-Files", "NCIS" and many others. He was also a prolific director of stage and screen productions. On the big screen, Margolin had supporting roles in "Kelly's Heroes", "Death Wish", "The Stone Killer", "The Gambler", "Days of Heaven", and "S.O.B." among others. He is best-remembered, however, for his collaborations with James Garner, especially relating to the hit TV series "The Rockford Files" in which he made recurring appearances, winning two Emmy awards in the process. He also co-starred with Garner in two short-running series, "Nichols" and "Bret Maverick".

On a personal note, this writer knew Stuart Margolin from our days as members of The Players, the historic club for the arts in New York City. When I would encounter Stuart there, he was always a fun guy to chat with, as his long career ensured he had volumes of interesting and amusing anecdotes. I recall him discussing Charles Bronson's personality quirks. He had made both "The Stone Killer" and "Death Wish" with Bronson. Shortly after shooting a key scene with him for the latter film, he ran into Bronson in an airport lounge and had to introduce himself to him because Bronson's insulated personality allowed him to shut out people and things that weren't relevant to the moment. Stuart was a gold mine of information when it came to assisting Cinema Retro in our special issue devoted to the making of "Kelly's Heroes". I recall him joking about the zany antics of the cast and crew when they were "stranded" for an extended period of time filming in a remote area of Yugoslavia. He said that all-night poker games occurred regularly and one was so intense that the players barely looked up to see the moon landing that was being televised live. At the time I knew him, his old friend James Garner was suffering from a debilitating medical condition that he would never recover from. Stuart spoke about how much Garner's friendship meant to his career and to him personally. He kept in touch with Garner until the end of his life. He was a kind and giving man who will be missed by anyone who knew him.

By Lee Pfeiffer

Charles Bronson, the epitome of the screen hero of few words and emotions, is the subject of the French documentary "Charles Bronson: Hollywood's Lone Wolf" from writer/director Jean Lauritano. While the movie's 52-minute running time is hopelessly inadequate for providing much insight into the film legend's life and career, it does benefit from plenty of HD film clips instead of the usual VHS-quality footage culled from public domain movies and well-worn trailers, which is usually the norm in documentaries of this sort. Because the French are generally known as the ultimate cinephiles, the film concentrates primarily on aspects of Bronson's professional career, with only some fleeting insights into his personal life and background. We learn he grew up in a hardscrabble lifestyle in the coal country of western Pennsylvania and seemed destined for a dead end job in the mines. However, after being drafted for service in WWII, he joined a generation of other recently-discharged young men who gravitated toward the acting profession after the war. Like most of his peers, Bronson never dreamed of being an actor and tried out for a play at the suggestion of a friend. He found he had a knack for the profession and soon moved to Hollywood, where he traded his real name- Charles Buchinsky- for Charles Bronson because Senator Joseph McCarthy's "Red Scare" witch hunts were in play and Bronson suspected that a Slavic name would not be beneficial. He found work immediately and was generally cast as ominous tough guys and henchmen largely because he lacked the handsome features of traditional leading men of the era.

In the late 1950s, Bronson landed the lead role in the modestly-successful TV series "Man with a Camera" before director John Sturges cast him as one of "The Magnificent Seven" and in "The Great Escape", both of which afforded Bronson high profile roles. It was during the filming of the latter production that Bronson began wooing actress Jill Ireland, despite the fact that she was married to his co-star and good friend David McCallum. Ultimately, she would divorce McCallum and marry Bronson, but such dramatic developments are dismissed with in a nanosecond in the documentary. Instead, director/writer Lauritano dissects Bronson's achievements on screen, pointing out that he reached leading man status in Europe long before Hollywood recognized his potential as a boxoffice super star. The film presents Bronson as resentful that, while he was starring in films by the likes of Rene Clement and Sergio Leone in Europe, he was still relegated to playing rather nondescript villains in American cinema, despite a high profile role as one of "The Dirty Dozen" and playing a non-violent role opposite Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor in "The Sandpiper". 

Brosnson's prospects for American stardom rose with the release of two European films that were well received in the States: the Western "Red Sun" and the real-life crime drama "The Valachi Papers", both directed by Terence Young. Soon after, his collaborations with British director Michael Winner on films such as "Chato's Land" and "The Mechanic" finally afforded Bronson name-above-the-title respect in his native country. The highlight of this period was starring in Winner's "Death Wish", the controversial crime thriller that perfectly tapped into the American public's concerns about urban crime waves of the era. It would prove to be one of the most influential films of all time, for better or worse. The documentary is frustrating because it affords us an interesting overview of a cinematic icon who is rarely examined in any meaningful way, yet it needs to have a much longer running time to do him justice. What exists is impressive, however.

The version of the film currently presented on Amazon for streaming rental or purchase and on Freevee for free, but with ads. (Yuck!) 

Lee Marvin and Charles Bronson epitomized "the strong, silent type" of leading men. Neither of them were very enthused about promoting their films on publicity tours but occasionally they would bite the bullet and go before the press. In 1981, Marvin and Bronson, who had co-starred in "The Dirty Dozen" (1967), reunited for director Peter Hunt's adventure film "Death Hunt". Probably due to contractual obligations, the men made some joint press appearances. This interview with host Bobbie Wygant consists mostly of the usual softball questions as she tries to run out the clock with a polite Marvin and a seemingly bored Bronson.

BY ERNIE MAGNOTTA

Six-time, undefeated world karate champion Chuck Norris made his film debut in 1972’s Way of the Dragon; a marvelous movie in which Norris played a villainous character who battled the immortal Bruce Lee in a scene that is now considered to be one of the greatest cinematic fights of all time. In 1974, Norris did another villainous turn in the low-budget martial arts film Slaughter in San Francisco by portraying a powerful drug lord. He would then go on to headline 1977’s Breaker! Breaker! wherein he played the hero for the first time. When the higher budgeted and more ambitious Good Guys Wear Black was released the following year, it scored big and suddenly everyone took notice of this rising new talent.

Vietnam vet John T. Booker (Norris) is now a political science professor at UCLA who gets wind of the fact that someone very powerful is killing off the remaining members of his old Special Forces team, the Black Tigers. With the help of a young reporter named Margaret (Anne Archer), Booker attempts to find out who’s responsible for the slaughter while simultaneously trying to stay alive.

Very well-directed by Ted Post, Good Guys Wear Black was written by Bruce Cohn and Mark Medoff (from a story by Joseph Fraley),and released by American Cinema Releasing on June 2, 1978. The entertaining action film, which Norris considers his breakthrough movie, is a post-Watergate/ post-Vietnam story, but, in some spots, also feels very much like a James Bond film.

Much has been said about Norris’s performance in this film. Norris himself doesn’t love his acting in this one. After Good Guys was released, Steve McQueen, who was one of Norris’s karate students at the time, told the rising star that it would be better if, from now on, he let some of the character actors handle the heavy exposition while, much like Clint Eastwood and Charles Bronson, Chuck only uttered the most important lines. Great advice, but still, I don’t think Norris’s performance in this film is nearly as bad as everyone has said and he has nothing to be ashamed of. If you watch his movies in order of release, you will see an actor who worked hard on his craft and improved with each film.

To help support Norris in this early film effort, the filmmakers cast Good Guys Wear Black with an amazing array of acting talent the likes of Anne Archer, James Franciscus, Lloyd Haynes, Dana Andrews, Jim Backus, Lawrence P. Casey and Soon-Tek Oh (who would later appear in two more Chuck Norris films). The film also features 9^th degree black belt Pat E. Johnson, the first screen appearance of Chuck’s brother (and fight choreographer) Aaron Norris, and a cool musical score by composer Craig Safan.

Good Guys Wear Black has been released on Blu-ray in anamorphic (1.85:1) widescreen from a brand new 2K transfer. The Region 1 disc also contains an interesting audio commentary by action film historians Mike Leeder and Arne Venema, the featurette “The Making of Good Guys Wear Black”, an interview with director Ted Post, the original theatrical trailer, reversible sleeve artwork, TV spot and several radio spots. There are also trailers for five other Chuck Norris films as well as the trailer for Narrow Margin which stars Anne Archer.

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Ernie Magnotta is the author of "Halloween: The Changing Shape of an Iconic Series". Click here to order from Amazon

Author and film historian Dana Polan has recently written a book titled Dreams of Flight: ‘The Great Escape’ in American Film and Culture that analyzes director John Sturges’ WWII classic. Cinema Retro Editor-in-Chief Lee Pfeiffer conducted this interview with Polan regarding his book.

Q: Tell us about your book overall:

Dana Polan: Combining unique archival research, close analysis, and first-person accounts by viewers, Dreams of Flight traces multiple histories around the 1963 POW classic The Great Escape: production history of the film itself but also the history of the original event (an actual breakout in 1944 that led to the successful escape of three men, recapture of seventy-three with fifty of those summarily executed on Hitler’s orders), as well as the trajectory of POW Paul Brickhill’s written account as it evolved into the bestselling page-turner book The Great Escape. I also chronicle my own viewing history of the film, starting as a Sixties adolescent, along with accounts by other viewers who also saw the film around then and found that its blend of the buoyant and the downbeat stayed with them over the years. I had long wanted to revisit the film, ever since first seeing and being so strongly impacted by it. I feel so lucky to have been given the chance to engage with the film in a book-length study that could go into much detail about the film and its reception history.

Q: When and where did you first see the film?

DP: I wish I could be more precise about the exact date but I started researching and writing the book during Covid quarantine and that limited a wee bit of my research. I know I saw it at my town’s one drive-in and it was likely about 1965 since that is when we moved to the area. If so, I would have been 13 years old or so, and it would have been a re-release. I’d have loved to track down microfilm copies of the local newspaper to see the dates the film was playing and also to determine if it was on a double-bill or not. The Great Escape is a long film but our drive-in generally showed two films and I imagine would only have had one presentation per night of the double-bill. Although The Great Escape was not road-showed in its original release in 1963 — no symphonic overture over a static opening title, no intermission, and so on — I persist in thinking there was a break half-way through so viewers could be encouraged to go to the concession stand. In fact, the film has a logical place for a pause just at the halfway mark — when the first character we care about gets killed and the hitherto individualist Hilts (Steve McQueen) declares his commitment to the collective cause of escape. There’s a consequential fade-out and then fade-in as the POWs resolutely return to their cause. If indeed the drive-in showed The Great Escape on a double-bill, that would have made for a long evening, and the intermission might have been essential for concession-stand sales.

An amusing anecdotal detail: I was away for the weekend when the film opened at the drive-in and my mom and stepdad went without me on Saturday evening to see it. I had desperately been wanting to see it as, as I’ll explain in a moment, it seemed to promise exactly that sort of action entertainment I loved as a kid. When I got home by Sunday, I was so distraught that they hadn’t waited that my stepdad ended up having to take me that evening and sat through this long epic a second time in two days. He dozed off here or there while I was enthralled by every moment of the film even as I ultimately found it very disturbing.

Q: What impressed you most about it?

DP: Like, I imagine, many young American boys of the time, I went to the film for the gungho promise of its canonic poster, “The great adventure, the great entertainment, the great escape.” Instead, I was blown away by a narrative that seemed to me to be a deflation of adventure — a transformation of rousing entertainment into something questioning and quite bleak.

The Great Escape’s downbeat turn from a fun romp into fatalism left a lasting impression on me. As I write in Dreams of Flight, this unexpected narrative turn was a theme I began to notice in other films of that historical moment — one that is telling of American culture in the 1960s.

I have always imagined that my experience of movies is not mine alone but is likely representative of my demographic currents (gungho adolescent boy, in this case) and may be shared strongly by others in the same demographic. At the time, as I say, I was a pre-teen American boy who especially liked “manly” action cinema and expected from the trailers and that iconic poster that The Great Escape fit that mold. I know from other fan accounts that I tracked down for the book that I was not alone in feeling something disturbing and consequential was going on instead — in the film and in the times themselves. In my research for Dreams of Flight, I reached out to other viewers who first saw The Great Escape in the 1960s and found many had comparable reactions.

(Photo: Courtesy of the author.)

Q: Where does it stand in relation to Sturges' other films?

DP: John Sturges made over 40 films in a career that started with B-movies with a graduation to A-films in the 1950s, some of which combined strong narrative drive with a degree of artistic ambition — on the one hand, an entrapment drama like Bad Day at Black Rock (Sturges’s one nomination for Best Director) where thematic resonance (the topic of racial prejudice) is overlaid with taut suspense and moments of explosive action; on the other hand, the pretention of literary adaptation with, for example, the barebones Hemingwayesque allegory of The Old Man and the Sea. Even though he was thought of most as a manly man’s director, Sturges even did so-called women’s films, melodramas of love and emotional turmoil, such as A Girl Named Tamiko or By Love Possessed. But his forte was films of masculine fortitude and he found apt embodiment, literally so, for the trials and travails of men under pressure in a visual fascination with strong, sometimes stocky guys filmed as upright or coiled up bundles of vitality just itching to burst out. For example, the first time we see James Garner in The Great Escape (as Hendley, the forger), he’s filmed, perhaps curiously, from a distance that not only cuts off his feet but his neck and head as well so that the emphasis is on his torso, taut and tough as he confronts the fact of incarceration. Throughout the film, there are long pauses to paint a pent-up male energy that then passes over into scenes of vibrant action. I suggest in my book that The Great Escape not merely divides into three parts — planning of the escape, enactment of the escape, the outcome (as noted, a generally bleak one with most of the men rounded up and summarily executed) — but finds an overall distinct visual style for each of these: from coiled up men constrained by the fences that surround the camp and by the very confinement of the barracks they are walled up in, to the open expanses of seeming freedom beyond the camp, and back again to the camp for those POWs who are rounded up but escape execution (with the last shots showing even greater confinement for Hilts, who once again merits his moniker, “The Cooler King”).

For me, The Great Escape shows Sturges at the pinnacle of his dramatic form, although some fans prefer the tighter professionalism of The Magnificent Seven. Later Sturges films have their moments but the pauses get longer (and more talky as in the very sodden The Satan Bug) and the professionalism turns into long scenes of planning for action that actually defer that action (for example, the slowly unfolding Marooned and the overblown Ice Station Zebra which keeps delaying a violent confrontation that actually never comes for symphonically scored scenes of the submarine crashing through the ice and men pushing buttons and yelling orders). I find perfection to the pacing of The Great Escape: men talk out their plans at length but the suspense never lets up and, as I argue in the book, Sturges films dialogue scenes in a variety of forms (classic shot/reverse shot, wide-screen confrontation between men, long takes with a moving camera, and so on) that keep everything moving forward in thrilling fashion.

By Lee Pfeiffer 

Shortly after his great success as the star of Death Wish in 1974, Charles Bronson started to go on automatic pilot in terms of striving to give impressive performances in his films. He was still capable of giving fine performances, as he demonstrated in Hard Times, From Noon Till Three and some other exceptions. He was always enjoyable to watch but as one cheesy Death Wish sequel begat the next (and any number of even more inferior clones), Bronson became regarded as a living cartoon character who sleepwalked through his films in search of an easy pay check. There was a time, however, when he was taken seriously by critics as evidenced by this ad for the 1972 film adaptation of The Valachi Papers. The movie itself was middling in most respects, but Bronson won personal critical plaudits for his performance as the infamous Mafia member who ratted out on his bosses in return for government protection and immunity.

(The image is from the nostalgia blog His Name is Studd. The site features a treasure trove of vintage photos and film ads. Click here to access.)  

"The Valachi Papers" is currently streaming on Amazon Prime. 

By Ernie Magnotta

Real-life crime and corruption seemed to grow in the United States during the late 1960s and victims felt that, in certain cases, the law couldn’t always protect them. Thus, by the early 70s, American cinemas saw the rise of the vigilante/revenge film. Amazingly entertaining and hard-hitting classics such as Tom Laughlin’s Billy Jack (1971) Don Siegel’s Dirty Harry (1971), Phil Karlson’s Walking Tall (1973) and Jack Hill’s Coffy (1973) blazed across movie screens. These films featured lone, individualistic heroes who, after seeing the innocent people of their communities (and sometimes their loved ones) either robbed, beaten, raped or killed, and the law either powerless to help or itself part of the problem, decide that enough is enough and proceed to take the imperfect law into their own hands. As entertaining as these movies were, they were also an outcry against the real-life crime and corruption that was polluting the streets at the time; not to mention the imperfect legal system. Also, by viewing the tough, but well-meaning heroes of these fantasy films ridding their communities of this dangerous and undesired element, audiences experienced a real catharsis.

Although many more vigilante/revenge movies would hit theater screens throughout the rest of the decade, the genre reached its height with the release of Michael Winner’s masterful, if controversial, Death Wish (1974) which starred the legendary Charles Bronson as a passive architect/family man who, after his wife and daughter are raped by muggers (which also causes his wife’s death), and the authorities are powerless to help, decides to hunt criminals by night on the dangerous urban streets of New York. Death Wish proved to be highly influential and, in the 1980s, the genre showed no signs of slowing down as urban-based vigilante/revenge films such as 1980’s underrated The Exterminator, 1982’s Fighting Back and 1983’s Vigilante exploded into theaters along with, among many others, three entertaining, but inferior Death Wish sequels. Smack dab in the middle of these two decades, a modest, solid little urban vigilante/revenge film called Defiance was released.

Directed by John Flynn (Rolling Thunder), Defiance, which was written by Thomas Michael Donnelly (Quicksilver), produced by Jerry Bruckheimer (Beverly Hills Cop, Top Gun) and released by American International Pictures, concerns a merchant seaman named Tommy (Jan-Michael Vincent, The Mechanic, Big Wednesday, Airwolf) who, while waiting for his next ship to sail, takes up residence on New York’s Lower East Side. While there, he romances pretty, young Marsha (Raging Bull’s Theresa Saldana) and befriends a boy (Fernando Lopez from Frankie and Johnny) and an old grocery shop owner named Abe (Academy Award winner (for Harry and Tonto) Art Carney). He also discovers that a violent street gang called the Souls is terrorizing the neighborhood and the entire police force’s hands are tied. After a series of brutal muggings, beatings and murders, Tommy decides to put a stop to the violence by taking on the gang himself. But does Tommy alone have what it takes to put an end to the madness?

Although a very well-done addition to the urban vigilante genre, Defiance differs somewhat from films like Death Wish and The Exterminator in that the main hero doesn’t kill any of the villains. He just fights back and, hopefully, brings them to justice. Director Flynn delivers a well-balanced combo of drama and suspense-thriller while giving the film a gritty, realistic feel which is helped along by the stark cinematography of the talented Ric Waite (48 Hrs.).

Jan-Michael Vincent is extremely convincing as Tommy. He plays the well-written character as quiet, but tough and also isn’t afraid to show that, at times, Tommy is scared. He also shows traits such as humor and heart which further humanizes the character. Overall, it’s an understated and very believable performance. The extremely likeable Theresa Saldana brings a nice touch of humor to her role and the late, great Art Carney is wholly convincing as an aging, kind, but fed up grocery store owner. We also have a terrific performance by Fernando Lopez as the kid; not to mention Rudy Ramos (The Enforcer) exuding icy evil as gang leader Angel Cruz who utters the immortal line, “Now, we’re gonna make the new dude slow bleed.”

The entertaining and engaging film is loaded with even more top-notch acting talent; mostly made up of familiar East Coast/Italian-American faces such as Academy Award nominee Danny Aiello (Do the Right Thing), former AWA Tag Team champion wrestler turned actor Lenny “Luca Brasi” Montana (The Godfather), legendary film and television actor Joseph Campanella (The St. Valentine's Day Massacre), The Sopranos’ Tony “Paulie Walnuts” Sirico and the highly recognizable Frank Pesce (Vigilante). What a freakin’ cast! My only question is where the hell was Joe Spinell? The movie also features well-known faces like Ernie F. Orsatti (The Car), Chino “Fats” Williams (Weird Science) and Santos Morales (Scarface) as well as very brief appearances by Fred Lincoln (The Last House on the Left) and Tony DiBenedetto (The Exterminator), and quite a few others whose faces are more familiar than their names.

Defiance has been released on a region one Blu-ray by Kino Lorber and is presented in its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio. As is usually the case with KL, the beautiful HD transfer boasts sharp, crystal clear and colorful images as well as perfect sound. The disc also contains the original theatrical trailer along with the trailer for the 1976, Jan-Michael Vincent actioner Vigilante Force which is also available on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber. If you’re looking for a solid entry from the vigilante film heyday, the extremely underrated Defiance won’t disappoint.

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BY LEE PFEIFFER

Love and Bullets is a 1979 Charles Bronson starrer that Roger Ebert appropriately described at the time as "an assemblyline potboiler". The film initially showed promise. Originally titled Love and Bullets, Charlie, the movie had John Huston as its director. However, Huston left after "creative differences" about the concept of the story and its execution on screen. The absurdity of losing a director as esteemed as Huston might have been understandable if the resulting flick wasn't such a mess. However, one suspects that, whatever the conceptual vision Huston had for the movie may have been, it must have been superior to what ultimately emerged. Stuart Rosenberg, the competent director of Cool Hand Luke took over but was unable to create anything more than a sub-par action movie. The plot finds Bronson as a Phoenix cop who is reluctantly sent to Switzerland on an undercover assignment. The local prosecutor has been doggedly trying to convict a local mob kingpin (Rod Steiger) for years. Now it appears that his moll girlfriend (Jill Ireland) might be a viable witness in terms of spilling the beans about his operations.  Thus, Steiger has stashed her abroad and is keeping her under constant watch. Bronson's job is to pretend he is also a mob guy and convince Ireland to return with him to Phoenix to testify against her lover. The movie seems to exist for one reason only: the main participants desired a paid working vacation in Switzerland. This concept is nothing new. The Rat Pack squeezed in filming Oceans Eleven almost as an afterthought while they were performing nightly in Las Vegas at the Sands casino. In the twilight of his years, John Ford famously got his stock company together for a jaunt to Hawaii and released the result as a big boxoffice hit called Donovan's Reef, which still must retain the status of being the most expensive home movie ever made. 

Love and Bullets is such a lazy effort you have to believe it must have taken a great deal of effort for the cast to meander to the set every day. The film also illustrates the danger of love-struck leading men force-feeding the lady in their lives into virtually every movie they make. Clint Eastwood shoe-horned Sondra Locke into a string of his films in the 1970s and 1980s and while some of them were artistic and commercial successes, I always greeted their next teamING with a sense of bored inevitability. (Locke was also a prime perpetrator in the creation of the worst movie of Eastwood's career, The Gauntlet.) In this case, Ireland had been Mrs. Bronson for over a decade following her divorce from David McCallum. She was always a competent enough actress but the couple obviously envisioned themselves as a new William Powell/Myrna Loy teaming. Not quite. Bronson is on full automatic pilot, registering almost no emotion. Ireland overplays the role of bubble-headed moll to an embarrassing level, as though she is a character in a sitcom sketch. She is saddled with intentionally laughable fright wigs but the real joke comes when she decides to discard them for her natural hair style, which proves to be even less flattering. Absurdity piles upon absurdity as the film becomes one long, extended chase sequence with Bronson and Ireland squabbling like Ralph and Alice Kramden, if you can imagine The Honeymooners being pursued by assassins. Steiger is in full scenery-chewing mode and an impressive array of supporting actors (Val Avery, Michael V. Gazzo, Henry Silva and Strother Martin) are pretty much wasted along the way. I'm generally undemanding when it comes to the pleasures of watching an unpretentious Charles Bronson action movie but Love and Bullets represents the latter period of his career where he rarely even tried to elevate his films beyond being vehicles for an easy pay check.

(The film is currently streaming on Shout! Factory TV and the app and subscription are also available through Amazon Prime Video.) 

BY LEE PFEIFFER

Kino Lorber has released the 1975 Charles Bronson crime thriller "Breakout" as a Blu-ray special edition. Bronson was riding high at the time, coming off the sensational success of "Death Wish". The film was originally supposed to star Kris Kristofferson under the direction of Michael Ritchie but those plans soon fell apart. Bronson took over the lead role with veteran director Tom Gries at the helm. The film finds Bronson well-cast as Nick Colton, a shady businessman/con man/grifter who operates a variety of small time business ventures on the Mexican border with his partner Hawk Hawkins (pre-kooky Randy Quaid.) Nick is living hand-to-mouth when he is approached by Ann Wagner (Jill Ireland) with a proposition to help her husband, equally shady rich guy Jay (Robert Duvall), escape from a Mexican prison where he has been sentenced after being framed for a murder. Time is of the essence because Jay is in declining health and may well be too weak to help effect his own escape. Colton and Hawk's first attempt to spring him ends disastrously and they barely escape back to America. Colton concocts an audacious plan for a second escape attempt that involves split-second timing. He will arrange for a helicopter to land in the courtyard of the prison and in the inevitable confusion, Jay is to make his way on board and presumably fly away to freedom. In order to pull off the caper, Nick enlists the help of a professional helicopter pilot as well as Myrna (Sheree North), a married ex-call girl who will be used to distract some of the guards when the copter lands inside the prison. When the pilot gets cold feet, Nick is forced to fly the chopper himself despite the fact that he only has minimum experience doing so. Another complication ensues when Jay is confined to the prison hospital and doubts he will be able to be in the courtyard at the precise moment Colton lands. 

"Breakout" was inspired by an incredible 1971 real life escape in which an American was indeed rescued by helicopter from a Mexican prison.  The screenplay has some other sub-plots that are poorly developed and quite confusing, but some of which are obviously related to the actual escape including some rumored involvement by the CIA. In the film, Jay Wagner's frame-up takes place at the behest of his evil tycoon grandfather, Harris Wagner (John Huston) for reasons that never become clear. Apparently, Harris is concerned that Jay may inherit some control over the company Harris runs with an iron fist, though these plot points remain murky as does the involvement of some CIA characters.  Another potential plot device, which finds Nick and Ann obviously attracted to each other, also goes nowhere. The film has a rushed look to it and there are some unsatisfying aspects caused by the movie's rather abrupt ending. The movie studio, Columbia, apparently felt the film was a rather weak production and thus gambled on a massive ad campaign that probably cost more than the film's modest budget. Ads for "Breakout" were everywhere: in newspapers, on TV and on radio. Additionally, the film opened wide in 1,000 American theaters, which was a big number in 1975. The movie was dismissed by critics with Variety calling it a "cheap exploitation pic", and indeed the main poster artwork (different from the Blu-ray sleeve artwork) and graphics looked surprisingly amateurish considering this was a golden age for film poster designs. Nevertheless, Bronson's appeal seemed to override these negative factors. "Breakout" proved to be a major hit and helped cement his status as a top boxoffice attraction , though his clout would gradually diminish henceforth. 

Scene stealer: Sheree North in posed cheesecake publicity photo for the film.

Like a lot of older movies, "Breakout" probably plays better today than it did at the time of its initial release. Bronson is in top form and gives an unusually energetic performance that allows him to stress his rarely-used talent for light comedy. The only other standout member of the cast is Sheree North, as the epitome of the sexy cougar. She's a fast-talking, tough cookie who parades about in sexy lingerie in an attempt to seduce Bronson. (Surprisingly, Bronson's character does not engage in any sexual action throughout the movie.) Robert Duvall is largely underutilized in a low-key role and performance that could have been credibly played by almost any other competent actor.  Huston's presence in the movie is disappointing, also. His role is confined to a few scattered cameo appearances that probably don't last more than two minutes. Some other familiar faces include Paul Mantee, Alejandro Rey, Roy Jenson and the Mexican cinema's favorite bad guy, Emilio Fernandez. As for Bronson teaming for the umpteenth time with real life wife Jill Ireland, the gimmick was wearing thin. Some screen couples could team without wearing out their welcome. Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton made many films together but they were always playing entirely different characters in entirely different scenarios. Bronson and Ireland, despite being competent actors, were no Liz and Dick. It became clear that their films together were largely made possible by Bronson's clout with the studios. Although Ireland always gave credible performances, she never lit up the screen. After a while the sheer predictability of their on-screen teamings probably undermined Bronson's popularity because it constrained him from interacting with other actresses. It was a trap Clint Eastwood also fell into for a period of time when he cast Sondra Locke in the female lead in six of his movies over a period of only seven years. Despite these gripes, it must be said that director Tom Gries keeps the pace moving briskly and there isn't a dull moment. He also knows how to milk some genuine suspense out of the helicopter escape scene, which is exceptionally well photographed by the great cinematographer Lucien Ballard. Jerry Goldsmith also contributes a typically fine score. The movie was shot in a wide number of locations including California, Mexico, Spain and France, where the impressive edifice that serves as the prison is located.

The Kino Lorber Blu-ray looks great and features a very informative commentary track by Paul Talbot, author of the excellent "Bronson's Loose" books, which analyze his action movies. There is also a trailer, TV spot and radio spot. In all, an impressive package for a fun '70s adventure flick. Recommended.

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BY LEE PFEIFFER

It isn't often that you might expect to read the word "delightful" in a review of a Charles Bronson movie but "From Noon Till Three" is just that: a delightful 1976 send-up of the traditional Western genre. In fact it seems like this was the year in which numerous revisionist Westerns were released. They included "Buffalo Bill and the Indians", "The Outlaw Josey Wales", "The Missouri Breaks" and John Wayne's final film, "The Shootist". By 1976 Charles Bronson was an established screen presence for about two decades.He was a familiar face to American movie-goers who liked his work as a supporting actor but it was the European market that elevated him to star status. Bronson finally began to get top-billing in Westerns and action films and became reasonably popular in America. But it was the 1974 release of his smash hit "Death Wish" that saw him soar to the level of superstar. The film was a mixed blessing. Bronson made some good films in the following years but eventually succumbed to the lure of a quick pay check, cranking out low-end urban crime movies that were often as absurd as they were over-the-top. "From Noon Till Three" allows Bronson and his real life wife and frequent co-star Jill Ireland a rare opportunity to flex their comedic muscles, which they do impressively. 

Bronson plays Graham Dorsey, a member of small time gang of bandits who are riding into a one-horse town to rob the bank. The film's opening is quite eerie as the bandits become unnerved when they discover there isn't a single living soul anywhere in the town. This sets in motion a "Twilight Zone"-like beginning that is quickly explained as a nightmare Dorsey is suffering, but is nonetheless quite effective for grabbing the viewer's attention.  When the gang nears the actual town, Dorsey's horse goes lame and must be shot. He rides double with another bandit until they reach the opulent mansion house of Amanda (Jill Irleand), an attractive widow who resides in the countryside with only a maid and servant as companions. When the bandits arrive on her doorstep, she is home alone and is understandably filled with anxiety being in the company of the men, who demand she give them a horse. She lies and says she doesn't have one- and Dorsey validates her story, opting to stay behind at the house while the robbery takes place. He finds Amanda very desirable but none-the-less acts like a gentleman- though as her tough facade fades, she becomes susceptible to his charm. Dorsey claims he suffers from incurable impotence, a ploy that works when Amanda finally volunteers to "cure" him. This results in the pair spending several heavenly hours together enjoying sexual adventures and falling in love. When word reaches Amanda that Dorsey's fellow bandits have been captured, she implores him to try to save them from hanging. Dorsey pretends to ride to their rescue, but instead bushwhacks a traveling con man and adopts his identity. The other man is mistaken for Dorsey and shot dead by a posse. Dorsey is ironically arrested because the man he is impersonating is also wanted by the law. Got all that? Things get really complicated when Dorsey spends a year in prison, studying (ironically) how to be a banker. He intends to return to Amanda and live their dream of moving to Boston, where he can get a job as a bank manager. When he returns to the woman he has been obsessing over for the last year, the reception he receives from her is something less than welcoming. Seems that since she believed Dorsey was dead, she set about memorializing him in a memoir titled "From Noon Till Three", a scandalous record of the hours in which they made love and fell in love. In the book, Amanda relates tall tales about Dorsey's crime exploits that he had previously bragged about...and she takes a bit of intentional creative license by describing him as an elegant, dashing man when, in fact, he looks like what he is: a saddle tramp. To say much more would spoil the fun. Suffice it to say that the film really kicks into gear when Dorsey discovers that Amanda's memoir has become an international sensation and she is idolized worldwide by both men and women. She doesn't have much incentive to now admit that Dorsey is not only alive and well but also falls considerable short of the handsome hunk the world has come to imagine.

"From Noon Till Three" is stylishly directed by Frank D. Gilroy and its based upon his novel of the same name. Gilroy had the magic touch in terms of bringing out the best in both Charles Bronson and Jill Ireland, both of whom rarely had an opportunity to demonstrate their flair for light comedy and they are both terrific. Gilroy, who also penned the screenplay, took advantage of a new era of cynicism in major films and "From Noon Till Three" proved to be far ahead of its time in predicting how the general public can be bamboozled into believing urban legends if they are marketed creatively enough. (Coincidentally, Paddy Chayefsky's "Network", released the same year, took an equally cynical view of the current day  TV news industry.)  The movie is a wealth of small pleasures and unexpected plot turns and boasts a fine score by Elmer Bernstein and impressive camerawork by Lucien Ballard, not to mention an impressive mansion house set by Robert Clatworthy. I don't want to overstate the merits of the film but I do want to point out that even if you're not a Bronson fan you should give this one a try.

"From Noon Till Three" is currently streaming on Amazon Prime. 

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BY JOHN M. WHALEN

In the early 1970s best-selling author Alistair MacLean (TheGuns of Navarone, Where Eagles Dare) was having a hard time of it, suffering through a rough marriage that eventually ended in divorce and alcoholism. His friend, movie producer Elliot Kastner, who had produced several movies based on MacLean’s books, gave him an office at 20th Century Fox and told him to write his next novel there as therapy. MacLean took the task on and decided to do something a little different from the straight adventure stories he usually wrote. He came up with the idea of mashing up two different genres—a tale of the Old West and an Agatha Christie-type cozy mystery. He basically took the plot from Murder on the Orient Express and set it on a train carrying medical supplies through the Rocky Mountains in 1870 to Fort Humboldt, which was besieged by an epidemic of diphtheria. Instead of Hercule Poirot on board trying to figure out who’s murdering all the passengers one by one, John Deakin, an outlaw with a price on his head, is given the job of figuring out who the culprit is.

No sooner did Breakheart Pass hit the bestseller list than Kastner asked MacLean to write the screenplay for a film based on the book, and Kastner and company began casting the characters. In 1974, Charles Bronson, who was in his fourth year as one of the top 10 box-office moneymakers in Hollywood, was brought on board to play John Deakin. A lot of the other parts went to what might be called “Bronson regulars,” actors that Bronson liked working with. First and foremost among them, of course, was Bronson’s wife, Jill Ireland, who appeared in 15 of his movies. She plays Marica, the fiancé of Nevada Governor Fairchild (Richard Crenna), who is on board to make sure the needed medical supplies get to their destination. Ed Lauter, who made four films with Bronson, plays Army Major Clairmont, whose first inclination is to hogtie Deakin and leave him be until they get to the fort. Robert Tessier, who would appear in Bronson’s Hard Times as one of his boxing match opponents, plays Levi Calhoun, the murderous leader of an outlaw gang that has taken over the fort. The strange makeup and costume he wears somehow makes him resemble a member of a way off Broadway production of Cats. There are other familiar faces in the movie that you’ll recognize from other Bronson flicks.

Also in the cast is veteran western actor Ben Johnson as U.S. Marshal Pearce, who shows up to take Deakin into custody, Bill McKinney (Deliverance) as Rev. Peabody, David Huddleston as Dr. Molyneaux, former boxing champion Archie Moore as the train’s cook, and Charles Durning as O’Brien, the conductor.

As the plot progresses we discover that almost none of the passengers is who he says he is, and the medical supplies on board are actually boxes loaded with rifles and dynamite. Deakin eventually solves the mystery but not without the usual amount of violence and mayhem one expects from a Bronson flick. One of the highlights of the film is a sequence in which the last three cars of the train, containing soldiers on their way to Ft. Humboldt, are decoupled and allowed to jump the track, roll downhill and fall off the side of the mountain. Unlike moviemakers today, director Tom Gries (Will Penny) did not have CGI technology to help create the scene. The production spent $800,000 for the purchase of actual box cars and sent them crashing down the mountainside. The sequence is noteworthy for being the last to be done by legendary stunt coordinator Yakima Canutt (Stagecoach, Ben-Hur). Unfortunately, according to the audio commentary provided by film historians Howard S. Berger, Steve Mitchell, and Nathaniel Thompson, the dummies dressed in Army uniforms that were supposed to fall out of the cars as they went down the cliff, remained hidden from the cameras. They couldn’t reshoot it so instead they dubbed in the sound of men screaming as the cars plummeted down the mountainside.

Breakheart Pass is an entertaining movie even though the plot literally makes no sense at all, and the characters have about as much depth as you’ll find in any SpongeBob Squarepants cartoon. But the ease and sense of “who cares what it’s all about, I’m just a Pennsylvania coal miner’s son having fun with some friends of mine” that Bronson displays, makes it enjoyable in a weird sort of way. His casual pursuit of clues from corpse to corpse, as they fall off trestles, or are found buried in the locomotive’s wood pile, or catch on fire and leap out of the locomotive in flames, manages to hold your interest—if you try not to think about it too hard.

Gries directs the film with a suitable lack of rigor and manages to keep the action going at a steady pace. He keeps the characters and their shifting identities straight, while giving Bronson a chance to play a Wild West detective without letting the whole show go over the cliff, so to speak. Lucien Ballard’s cinematography captures both the beauty and rugged treachery of the Rocky Mountain locations and the great Jerry Goldsmith provided a spirited, pulsing soundtrack for the film.

Kino Lorber’s 1080p Blu-ray disc transfer of Breakheart Pass is adequate but could be better. The color is good but the print is definitely in need of a good 2K restoration. Audio is 2.0 mono and seems flat, with little dynamic range. Goldsmith’s score deserves better treatment. Among the extras included on the disc are the previously mention audio commentary and trailers for other Bronson films available from KL. There is also reversible sleeve artwork. If you’re a Bronson fan, or just want to see box cars careening down the side of a mountain, you’ll probably want to see this.

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John M. Whalen is the author of "Hunting Monsters is My Business: The Mordecai Slate Stories" . Click here to order the book from Amazon)

Here's a production featurette from the underrated 1968 Western "Guns for San Sebastian" which featured Anthony Quinn squaring off against Charles Bronson, under the direction of Henri Verneuil. 

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BY HANK REINEKE

The tales of adventure, fantasy and science-fiction penned by the great French novelist Jules Verne have served as filmmaking source material since the silent era. In the 1950s and early 60s such films as Disney’s 20,000 Leagues under the Sea (1954), U.A.’s Around the World in 80 Days (1956), Fox’s Journey to the Center of the Earth (1959), and Columbia’s Mysterious Island (1961) had studio cash boxes ringing. Verne’s charming mix of adventurous whimsy and exciting scenarios were big moneymakers. They would all capitalize, in part, by the fact these were “family” films that promised a couple of hours of cross-generational entertainment.

So it was not surprising when James H. Nicholson and Samuel Z. Arkoff of American-International Pictures thought it might be time to get into the game. “You can get an indication of public taste by observing the pictures that are doing good business at the box office,” Nicholson would tell a writer from the Atlanta Constitution during a May 1961 stopover. “You can also detect growing trends.”

It was obvious that the most recent trend to catch his attention was the success of the big studio Jules Verne pictures. Not to let a money-generating bandwagon pass, AIP would chose Verne’s’ 1886 novel Robur the Conqueror as their next big project. Technically, their film would be a mashup of the latter title with 1904 successor, Master of the World. “Jules Verne is the kind of writer whose stories appeal to the family trade,” Nicholson opined, acknowledging the family trade was good business. But he admitted that the “combining two of [Verne’s] classics into a film represents quite a challenge.”

That may have been so but, as one Los Angles newspaper would note, it was a challenge AIP considered worthy of undertaking. Similarly to their series of celebrated Edgar Allan Poe films, Verne’s Master of the World could be freely adapted as a feature-length film, “without paying a quarter to a half a million” for the rights. Public Domain status was a copyright-free blessing of the Gods to frugal film producers.

As might be expected, Arkoff was typically the less publically diplomatic of the two AIP producers. His occasional press interviews would invariably tilt to the importance of producing a bankable, unapologetically exploitable feature. He wanted the company’s product to ring at the cash register, uninterested in birthing an under-attended critic’s darling type of film. “We make pictures for the young in heart, as well as the young in mind,” Arkoff confessed to Hollywood publicist Joe Hyams. “Neither Jim nor I have any Narcissus love. We don’t make art for art’s sake. To us making movies is a business. Fundamentally, we’re trying to amuse and entertain people, with only one objective – to make money. The way most other Hollywood producers talk they’re ashamed of making money.”

The two men shared one thing in common: they were actually happy to be industry mavericks. Their modest, targeted productions enabled them to not deal often with “temperaments, agents, and Hollywood paraphernalia.” The cigar-chomping Arkoff boasted that as long as there was a topical market ripe for exploitation, “we’ll be in the business. When the trend changes, we change. We make money, we’re happy men.”

The Poe series had put a bit of disposable cash in the studio’s vault, so it was promised that their Master of the World project would be a lavish one, exacting to its creator’s visions – well, within limits. “We had to see that the sets followed the Verne descriptions in meticulous detail,” Nicholson confided. “They had to look ornate, and yet be scientifically correct.” Though AIP favorite Vincent Price would be brought aboard to star as Verne’s Robur the Conqueror, the real star attraction of the film was to be the villain’s magnificent airship, the Albatross.

The producers tapped Richard Matheson to combine the two Verne novels into a single story. Matheson was happy to accept the challenge. The author preferred to cultivate a reputation as an “off-beat” writer or “story-teller,” than one pigeonholed as someone working within a single genre. In the finally summation, and while Matheson was properly defensive of his work on the film’s screenplay, the script is certainly not the best of his storied career.

The film is set in the pre-Wright Bros. age of 1868. It’s no sooner than one disgruntled citizen proclaimed Morgantown, PA, as the “most boring and monotonous town in the U.S.,” that a strange, disembodied voice - reciting scripture - booms mysteriously from the foreboding mountain top of Great Eyrie. Word of the strange event makes its way to Philadelphia, where an agent from the Department of the Interior, John Strock (Charles Bronson), chooses to pay a visit to a balloon society meeting at Independence Hall.

Strock is seeking an experienced team to carry out a ballooning expedition so he can inspect the crater of Mount Eyrie from on high. The team chosen from the Weldon Balloon Society is the cantankerous, arms manufacturer Prudent (Henry Hull), his beautiful daughter Dorothy (Mary Webster) and her fiancé Phillip Evans (David Frankham). Their expedition is cut short when a missile brings down their balloon. They soon are held as temporary prisoners of Robur the Conqueror (Vincent Price), quartered aboard his massive, paper-weight flying machine the Albatross.

The foursome learn that Robur, a self-proclaimed “citizen of the world,” is both bellicose and rabid in his pacifist beliefs and aviation enthusiasms. He ridicules Hull and company, pronouncing ballooning as dead. “The future belongs to the flying machine,” he bellows, noting the military munitions-equipped, 150 MPH Albatross as an example of modern aviation’s progress. From aboard the vessel, it’s Robur’s intention to effectively “war against war… to end for all time the scourge of war.”

Paradoxically, he plans to drop the munitions of warfare on the imperialist capitols of the world. While he does pre-warn his targets to “disarm or perish,” there will be, of course, a pushback. Seeking an end to warfare makes the obsessed Robur, arguably, a somewhat complicated villain. His aim is entirely an unselfish, principled one. Even agent Strock concedes that he’s not necessarily angered by Robur’s “ambition” but only by “his method” of obtaining it. Can Robur be stopped? Should he be stopped?

There was the usual ballyhoo pumping up the film’s release. The gossip columns were reporting that in addition to Price receiving his “regular salary” for his role in Master of the World, the producers had also agreed to toss in a twenty-thousand dollar cityscape painting by the - recently deceased - French artist Maurice Utrillo. The offer would serve as a prized bonus, one the actor could add to his famous personal art collection. Charles Bronson, with whom Price would first appear on screen with in House of Wax, was also cast, not necessarily against type, but in a role not playing to his strength. For reasons known to no one but the gruff actor himself, Bronson was reportedly difficult and aloof on set, skulking around with a chip on his shoulder for some unknown reason.

Matheson would admit he was “a little disappointed” with the finished film. He believed, not unreasonably, the half-million dollars allotted to the production wasn’t adequate to present the scope of its vision. It also thought the “casting was off,” mentioning Bronson in particular as ill-suited for the role as Strock. The actor was described by several of the film’s principals to be more than a bit standoffish while working on Master of the World. Matheson thought Bronson uncomfortable with much of the script’s Victorian era dialogue since delivering such florid lines was clearly not his style. Following a less-than-friendly first encounter with the actor, Matheson recalled Bronson telling him that he preferred to play “the part as a coal miner.” He was more or less was a man of his words in that regard. Vincent Price, who famously could get along with practically anyone and or off set, was also tested by the sulking Bronson, sighing to friends, “I can’t get through to this guy. I cannot make friends with him.”

Curious casting aside, Master of the World has simply never been a favorite film of mine. It’s certainly has never been one my favorite Vincent Price, AIP, nor even Jules Verne film adaptations. It simply doesn’t work. I might have held a bit of nostalgia for the film had I seen it on the big screen as a child, especially watching the glorious panoramic shots of the Albatross exterior in flight. But I didn’t… and truthfully the film tends to meander, seeming much longer than its 102 minute running time. I might also be in agreement with Bronson’s assessment that much of the dialogue is too grand eloquent and over-wordy.

The film should have been a bit more fun than it ever is. Here’s a case where the film’s accompanying fifteen-cent Dell comic-book adaptation might have served the story better. One also might have expected the film’s action sequences to be a bit more exciting than staged. Director William Witney, after all, had made a career since the 1930s of cranking out adventure, super-hero and western serials. But there’s very little edge-of-you-seat excitement on display here.

What we do get is a lot of stock footage. Some of the footage is amusing, if used merely as a bit of running-time padding. The first few minutes of the film features an amusing, monochrome series of clips documenting man’s earliest attempts – and resultant failures - to “touch the stars” through flight. The later battle scenes of Robur’s airborne war against the world’s capitols are mostly humdrum, clipped from bleak wartime stock-footage. Les Baxter’s score is undeniably wonderful, but is terribly over-used, under-pinning nearly every scene to the point of becoming tiresome. It’s better to experience the great score as a standalone on the film’s soundtrack LP (Vee Jay 4000). I’s still say Master of the World is worth a watch, if only on a rainy day.

This Kino Lorber Studio Classics Blu ray edition of Master of the World is presented here in a 1920x1080p with an aspect ratio of 1.85:1 and dts sound, removable English subtitles and an attractive slipcase cover. The set also includes the extended featurette Richard Matheson: Storyteller originally offered on the MGM “Midnight Movies” DVD of 2001. There are also a number of audio commentary tracks featuring a number of film historians, authors, and actors including Tom Weaver, Lucy Chase Williams, and David Frankham. The release rounds out with the film’s original theatrical trailer as well as a generous sampling of titles from Kino’s expansive catalog of Vincent Price films.

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BY LEE PFEIFFER

The old adage "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery" is especially true in Hollywood, but it can be said it could be amended to "Imitation is the sincerest form of economic opportunism". Almost since the beginning of cinema, films that proved to be especially successful have immediately spawned a flood of imitators from rock 'n roll musicals to beach party comedies to secret agent films and "Star Wars"inspired sci-fi flicks. It's fair to say that studios are notoriously shameless about exploiting the success of competitor's products. In 1974, director Michael Winner released the screen version of author Brian Garfield's novel "Death Wish", which traced the path to vigilantism by a New Yorker whose wife and daughter have been ravaged by gang members. It was an especially dark period in terms of soaring crime rates and Americans looked to popular culture to mirror their frustrations with "the system", which was deemed to be too lenient on the bad guys. Director William Friedkin once told this writer that upon seeing "Death Wish" in a local movie theater, he found the audience's response to the vigilante's trail of vengeance to have elicited the most visceral reaction he had ever witnessed in regard to a motion picture. To be sure, "Death Wish" was far from a favorite with critics, but it was shrewdly made in terms of appealing to the emotions of everyday people who could not envision in 1974 that America would one day enjoy a sustained period of lower crime rates (the Covid pandemic period aside.) Sociologists found the advocacy of taking the law into one's hands to be a very dangerous message and even author Brian Garfield publicly distanced himself from the movie, stating it didn't resemble his novel in many key areas. Police officials were glad to have the public speak out about laws that were soft on criminals but feared a spike in real life vigilantism if everyday people tried to emulate star Charles Bronson's take-downs of celluloid bad guys.

The success of "Death Wish" immediately led to a flood of vengeance-themed dramas both as feature films and TV productions. The theme generally adhered closely to Winner's film: an everyday guy suffers a terrible fate at the hands of brutal criminals. The police are sympathetic but explain that they are understaffed and that the law often provides for a revolving door in terms of letting arrested suspects back into society. With no other options available, our protagonist takes matters into his own hands and initiates his own brand of brutal justice. One of the "Death Wish"-inspired crime thrillers was "Trackdown", a little-remembered 1976 production directed by Richard T. Heffron and starring Jim Mitchum in a rare leading role. Mitchum plays Montana rancher Jim Calhoun, whose 17 year-old sister Betsy (Karen Lamm) grows bored and desires to see the big city. While Jim is roping horses, she makes a getaway to Los Angeles, where the pretty blonde teenager immediately draws the attention of a local gang that spies her walking around Hollywood Boulevard. The gang enlists one of their members, Chucho (Erik Estrada) to help set her up for a robbery. The gang members escape with all her money and I.D. while guilt-plagued Chucho tries to help the desperate young girl in any way he can. She ends up moving into his small apartment where to no one's surprise she chooses to get it on with Chucho, probably because he looks like Erik Estrada. The two genuinely fall for each but tragedy is in the offing when the gang breaks in and brutally gang rapes Betsy. They then kidnap her and sell her into prostitution to a Jeffrey Epstein-like rich guy, Johnny Dee (Vince Cannon), who wants to add her to his stable of young hookers. He  assigns his mistress, Barbara (Anne Archer) to persuade Betsy to cooperate by showing her all the swag and posh surroundings she will get if she sleeps with some of Dee's clients. Betsy, who seems to have the ability to recuperate from the gang rape in record time, consents- although she soon learns the dark side of her new profession.

A parallel story forms in which Jim Calhoun arrives in L.A. desperate to find his sister. Jim, complete with cowboy hat, get the expected treatment Clint Eastwood received in New York in "Coogan's Bluff": he's treated like a naive hick by the cops, who explain the city is so awash with teen runaways that there is little hope of finding Betsy. Jim enlists the hope of local social activist Lynn Strong (Cathy Lee Crosby), who assists him in tracking down Chucho, who agrees to help them find Betsy, even though he will be endangering his own life by betraying his fellow gang members. Jim goes through the requisite attempts to save his sister through legal means before taking the traditional vigilante route and launching a violent campaign of revenge against Betsy's kidnappers. 

"Trackdown" benefits from being shot on location and eschewing studio scenes. Consequently, there's an abundance of footage of old Seventies L.A. that adds a degree of realism to the goings-on. While much of Jim Calhoun's crusade plays out in predictable fashion, there are some unexpected plot twists involving the cliched characters. Director Heffron does execute and excellent and suspenseful sequence in which Jim and Chucho battle the villains inside an elevator shaft. It's neatly staged and adds an element of originality to an otherwise well-worn scenario. Jim Mitchum gives a fine performance as the rancher whose seemingly inexhaustible patience is put to the test. His understated manner contrasts with his ability to carry off the action scenes. The rest of the cast is also rather good and you can see the future star power and charisma in Erik Estrada's performance. Vince Cannon makes an appropriately smarmy villain and Anne Archer is quite winning as his live-in glamor girl.  Cathy Lee Crosby seems inserted into the film simply to provide Jim with some opportunities to engage in some mild flirting. The film comes to a climax that is over-the-top but highly stylized.The movie also includes original songs sung by country music icons Del Reeves and Kenny Rogers.

Japanese 45RPM of Kenny Rogers' "Runaway Girl", which was written for the film.

The Kino Lorber Blu-ray is yet another welcome collaboration with Scorpion, which holds a catalog of worthy "B" titles. The film has a fine transfer and offers a gallery of trailers for other titles that are available. There are also some radio spot ads for the film and reversible sleeve artwork. "Trackdown"'s virtues shouldn't be overstated, but it is one of the better "Death Wish" imitators.

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BY FRED BLOSSER

A Dino De Laurentiis production starring Charles Bronson, John Sturges’ “The Valdez Horses” opened in Italy in 1973 and kicked around markets in Europe and the Far East over the next two years under various alternative titles. In 1975, it finally limped onto a handful of U.S. screens as “Chino.” By then, Bronson was already a cultural sensation here in the wake of “Death Wish,” but “Chino” didn’t have much of a push from its American distributor, and it didn’t last long in the movie houses. The Bronson vehicle that made a splash in 1975 was Walter Hill’s “Hard Times,” featuring the star as a hardscrabble street fighter during the Great Depression. If you’re of a certain age, you probably remember “Chino,” if at all, as a VHS release from the Neon Video budget label in the 1980s, gathering dust at your local Blockbuster or Suncoast.

In the film, young Jamie (Vincent Van Patten), traveling alone across the wide open spaces, is stranded miles from the nearest town as night begins to fall. Is he a runaway or an orphan? That’s never clarified, an element that may bother those who tend to pick at loose ends, although it doesn’t greatly matter in terms of the story. Seeing a lonely ranch house in the distance, the boy meets Chino Valdez (Charles Bronson), a half-Indian stockman who tames horses and lives by himself. The taciturn Chino gives Jamie shelter for the night, in return for the kid pitching in with the chores. Next morning, in a scene nicely underplayed by Bronson and Van Patten, Chino offers the boy a job as his hired hand, and Jamie eagerly accepts. The work includes mentoring on how to tame and ride mustangs. When Jamie asks if taming means “busting” a wild horse, Chino emphatically says no: “ . . . that takes all the spunk out of a horse. It breaks him. And I'm not gonna bust a Valdez horse.” It’s the first of several scenes in which, not very subtly, Chino is likened to his wild stallions.

Chino’s neighbor is Maral (Marcel Bozzuffi), a wealthy rancher whose sister Catherine (Jill Ireland) comes from the East to visit. In case any sticklers in the audience wonder why Maral has a French accent and Catherine a British one, the real answer is simple. If you wanted Charles Bronson for a picture in those days, his wife Jill Ireland was part of the deal. In context of the story, it’s because the siblings had different mothers, as quickly noted in passing. Trouble develops when Chino and Catherine fall in love with each other and decide to marry with the help of a friendly padre. Learning of the plan, Maral confronts Catherine in the chapel as she waits in her wedding gown for Chino to arrive. If his sister marries the rough-hewn, penniless horseman, “I will kill him,” Maral tells her. It’s a complication straight out of the 1950s B-Westerns. Except there, the hero and the overbearing cattle baron would have settled their differences with a friendly fist fight, and wedding bells would ring. This being a 1970s Western, and a Charles Bronson vehicle to boot, it isn’t too much of a spoiler to suggest that things won’t go that smoothly for Chino.

Even Bronson fans are likely to concede that “The Valdez Horses” is a mess dramatically speaking, although an interesting mess for those of us who fondly remember how the international co-productions in the 1970s, like this one, were often patched together. Quiet, family-friendly scenes of Chino and Jamie bonding as surrogate father and son are punctuated by a saloon brawl in which Chino bashes a bully in the crotch with a whiskey bottle, a protracted showdown with a high body count, a whipping, and a scene in which the Spanish actress Diana Lorys, in brown makeup as a Cheyenne woman, bares her breasts. In audio commentary for a new Blu-ray edition from Kino Lorber Studio Classics, film historian and Bronson specialist Paul Talbot notes that Sturges filmed on Spaghetti Western locations in Almeria, Spain, in 1972 with an Italian and Spanish crew and supporting cast. Although the Europeans’ relaxed approach jarred with his studio-honed sensibilities for running a tight set, Sturges gamely wrapped on schedule. But once they previewed the finished product, De Laurentiis‘ investors decided that the director’s low-key, 1960s-style Western would disappoint Bronson fans. So Italian filmmaker-for-hire Duilio Coletti was brought in to film additional scenes, accounting for the more exploitative content. Even so, “Chino” squeaked by in the U.S. with a PG rating, bare breasts and all. Some of us will be less embarrassed by Diana Lorys‘ nudity than by the inane romantic scenes between Bronson and Ireland. For what it’s worth, the script was credited to veteran novelist and screenwriter Clair Huffaker from a book by Lee Hoffman. Stephen Geller and Elmore Leonard also made unofficial contributions along the way, according to Paul Talbot’s research.

The Kino Lorber Blu-ray includes two versions of the movie, a 1.85:1 print from the U.S. release and a windowboxed 1.37:1 version with French opening titles. In color and clarity, the 1.37:1 version is superior to the other, but the nostalgically minded may prefer the 1.85:1, blemishes and all, as the one they watched on VHS back in the day. In a new interview, Vincent Van Patten fondly remembers Bronson, Sturges, and the shoot in Almeria. Between scenes, the young actor asked the fifty-year-old Bronson how he maintained his “ripped” physique, on display twice in the movie. “Push ups,” Bronson answered. “Push ups?” Van Patten said. “Push ups,” Bronson repeated. Van Patten’s affectionate Bronson impression is spot-on. From Talbot’s minute reconstruction of the picture’s bumpy history and Van Patten’s affable memories, you’ll conclude that a docudrama about the making of “The Valdez Horses” would be more engaging than the movie itself.

Other extras on the Blu-ray include a silent 8-millimeter home movie shot by Van Patten and his brother Jimmy in Almeria, the American TV spot for “Chino,” alternate title openings, trailers for other Bronson movies on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber, and a reversible cover sleeve with poster art for “The Valdez Horses” on one side and “Chino” on the other.

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Fred Blosser is the author of "Sons of Ringo: The Great Spaghetti Western Heroes". Click here to order from Amazon)

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HIGHLIGHTS OF ISSUE #27 INCLUDE:

• Don L. Stradley examines the dramatic life and career of Lolita star Sue Lyon
• John Exshaw's unpublished interview with screen legend Peter Cushing
• Adrian Smith interviews Hugh Hudson, director of Revolution and Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes
• Dean Brierly looks at classic Japanese crime movies
• Stephen C. Jilks celebrates the Hammer horror flick Curse of the Werewolf
• David Savage examines Liz Taylor's little-seen, late career bizarro cult movie The Driver's Seat
• Howard Hughes continues his history of Oakmont Productions with Submarine X-1 starring James Caan
• Paul Thomson provides in-depth coverage of the Amicus Edgar Rice Burroughs film adaptations The Land That Time Forgot, At the Earth's Core and The People That Time Forgot and reviews the long-forgotten electric rock Western Zachariah
• Remember Ray Harryhausen
• Raymond Benson's top ten films of 1986
• Lee Pfeiffer's Take Two column looks back on The Valachi Papers starring Charles Bronson
• Burt Reynolds underrated dark comedy The End is re-evaluated by Tim Greaves
• Gareth Owen's Pinewood Past column features Reach for the Sky starring Kenneth More
• Plus the latest film book, soundtrack and DVD reviews. 

CINEMA RETRO ISSUE #27

CINEMA RETRO ISSUE #27 $30.00 USD

Cinema Retro has received the following press release from MPI Media Group:

In 1958 a young Charles Bronson came to ABC-Television in the fast-paced action drama “Man With A Camera” which was loosely based on the popular radio series “Casey, Crime Photographer” starring Staats Cottsworth and the earlier TV series “Crime Photographer” starring Darren McGavin. Bronson played Mike Kovac, a former WWII combat photographer now freelancing in New York City, who specialized in getting the photographs that other lensmen couldn’t. His assignments came from newspapers, insurance agencies, the police and private individuals, all of whom wanted a filmed record of an event. His cases always lead to danger, usually involving a good-looking damsel in distress. Kovac’s police liaison was Lieutenant Donovan, well played by James Flavin, who looked to the freelance cameraman for help with the cases the cops couldn’t handle. To the viewer’s delight, Kovac employed the latest photographic technology to solve a case, including a Minox III mini-camera fastened to his belt; fisheye and telephoto lenses; and various other cutting-edge technologies; even converting the trunk of his car into a portable darkroom where he could develop his negatives on the spot. Character actor Ludwig Stossel starred as Kovac’s immigrant father Anton, to whom Kovac frequently came for advice.

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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 MATT DAVEY

Released in 1972, The Valachi Papers depicts the rise and fall of Mafia informant Joseph Valachi, who became the first member of the Mafia (otherwise known as Cosa Nostra) to acknowledge its existence in public. Directed by Terence Young (Dr. No, From Russia with Love, Thunderball) and produced by legendary Italian film producer Dino De Laurentiis The Valachi Papers stars Charles Bronson in the lead role, alongside his real-life wife Jill Ireland as well as Lino Ventura, Walter Chiari and Joseph Wiseman.

The film covers five decades of Valachi’s involvement in organised crime – from his burglaries with the Minutemen to working under mob boss Vito Genovese from the 1930s – as the film unceremoniously portrays life in the criminal underworld. Told from the perspective of Valachi, the film begins with the ageing gangster in prison fearing for his life after a contract for his killing is ordered by Don Vito Genovese (Lino Ventura), who suspects him of betraying the Family. Determined not to be silenced behind bars and avoid an inside hit, Valachi co-operates with the U.S. Justice Department – unveiling the secrets of life in the Mafia as the film follows Bronson’s on-screen Joe Valachi through voice-over and flashback sequences.

The film is based on the biographical book of the same name, written by Peter Maas in 1968. Nearly five decades after the movie’s release, it’s difficult to truly comprehend the anticipation surrounding a Hollywood picture based on Joseph Valachi’s tell-all testimony to the FBI that was televised across the United States in 1963. Never before had the public, or indeed the FBI, really been aware of the true extent to which organised crime functioned in America. Valachi - who had been a former Mafia ‘soldier’ in the Genovese crime family – disclosed that the Mafia was called ‘Cosa Nostra’ in Italian – translating as “this thing of ours” in English. Valachi’s public testimony divulged the structure of the Mafia, from its hierarchy to the Five Families in New York City. This incredible true story was always going to have golden Hollywood potential when being made into a motion picture, but there would be two competing Mafia movies in 1972. One became widely regarded as one of the best films ever made and the other would disappear from popular culture…

Perhaps, The Valachi Papers is worthy of a reappraisal in the modern era. Sure, there are some clunky edits that also plagued director Terence Young’s early James Bond films – although they are simply too good to care – and the jolty dubbing of certain supporting actors also fails to go unnoticed. That being said, it’s to the film’s credit that you can overlook its flaws, that the story and performances are simply too good to worry about a few minor things that don’t hold up well fifty years later. Charles Bronson starred in The Valachi Papers at a time when he was finally achieving major international stardom. Having enjoyed success in ensemble pieces in a supporting capacity – The Magnificent Seven, The Great Escape and The Dirty Dozen – Bronson made his name as a leading man in Sergio Leone’s epic spaghetti western, Once Upon a Time in the West opposite Henry Fonda, Claudia Cardinale and Jason Robards. The Valachi Papers would be Young and Bronson’s third and final collaboration together after Cold Sweat and Red Sun. As Bronson’s popularity as a leading man grew, he would carry forward his tough guy persona under director Michael Winner as vigilante Paul Kersey in the Death Wish series, among other collaborations with Winner.

There’s an argument to be made that Bronson’s performance as Joseph Valachi is the most versatile performance of his entire career. Bronson emits his trademark softly spoken innocence packaged with his menacing cats’ eyes that tell a thousand words when no dialogue is offered, which in itself is a contradiction in terms. Yet Bronson’s appearance changes more in this movie than in any of his others combined. He’s convincing as Valachi in young, middle and old age – long before the days of CGI and de-aging techniques. From the colour of his hair to the speed at which he moves, Bronson is totally believable as Joe Valachi, which alone makes the film worth seeing. It’s Bronson who makes the film tick, as the narrative jumps back and forth through time – a comparison that you can make with Martin Scorsese’s The Irishman. As good as he is, Lino Ventura doesn’t have the same on-screen magnetism as Marlon Brando’s Don Corleone. Perhaps the author of ‘The Godfather’, Mario Puzo,based Don Vito Corleone on the real-life Vito Genovese? Puzo certainly drew on the real Valachi Papers for his best-selling book that was adapted for the screen by Francis Ford Coppola.

Indeed, The Valachi Papers lacks the all-round spectacle, pomp and grandeur than that of The Godfather. It’s not difficult to analyse why The Godfather was so successful. Hoping to ride the wave of The Godfather’s success – The Valachi Papers bombed commercially – critically shunned as inferior. Director Terence Young said of The Godfather: “It is the most expensive trailer ever made – a trailer for our film! We are really much closer to The French Connection. We are the other side of that coin – you could call us ‘The Italian Connection’!”

Comparable with The Godfather, The Valachi Papers does feel like an old movie – it’s not a criticism, but it’s overshadowed by Coppola’s timeless classic. With the exception of Bronson, there isn’t an all-star cast with multiple Academy Awards between them or an array of quotable lines. The best we get is delivered by Joseph Wiseman who’s best known as Dr. No in the film of the same name: “We cannot bring back the dead, only kill the living.”

The Valachi Papers ultimately failed. Failed because it was immediately compared with The Godfather. How could it win? It has a stripped-down sensibility – The Irishman meets Goodfellas but on a tenth of the budget. It’s not a masterpiece, but with Charles Bronson giving a career best performance – The Valachi Papers is a forgotten gem in need of a polish.

(Readers are invited to share their thoughts with Matt Davey at 4davem12@solent.ac.uk )

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BY LEE PFEIFFER

The Warner Archive has released a Blu-ray edition of the beloved 1952 Spencer Tracy/Katharine Hepburn romantic comedy "Pat and Mike". Tracy and Hepburn had gelled with critics and audiences in their previous teamings. The film was directed by the estimable George Cukor, who Tracy and Hepburn had teamed with previously with great success. The screenplay is by Ruth Gordon and her husband Garson Kanin, who also provided the script for the earlier movie. Gordon and Kanin were close friends of Tracy and Hepburn and were inspired by the offbeat nature of their relationship. (Tracy remained married throughout his lifelong romance with Hepburn and he was noted for being short-tempered but charismatic.) They were also impressed by Hepburn's athletic abilities, especially in golf and tennis, and this formed the basis of the screenplay for "Pat and Mike". Indeed, Hepburn performs all of the sometimes incredible athletic feats seen onscreen.

Hepburn plays Pat Pemberton, an athletic coach at a college who also moonlights by developing her own career as an up-and-coming athlete who is making a name for herself on the golf and tennis circuit. She's engaged to Collier Weld (William Ching), a fellow college employee who has looks and charm but tends to be a bit bossy in his treatment of Pat. Worse, although he attends tournaments in which she competes, he seemingly does so out of politeness more than enthusiasm and let's Pat know that after they wed, he would prefer to live the life of a typical housewife. This doesn't fly very well with Pat, who is too intimidated to argue with him. Instead, she abruptly runs away temporarily to contemplate her future. Ultimately, she meets Mike Conovan (Spencer Tracy), a sports manager and promoter who talks big but who is barely hanging on by his fingernails. His sole remaining client is Davie Hucko (Aldo Ray), a beefy but simple-minded boxer who shows potential. Upon witnessing Pat's abilities on the tennis and golf courses, coupled with her abilities to excel at other sports, Mike believes she will be his dream ticket to success. With his savvy promotional abilities, Mike helps increase Pat's name recognition and acclaim. Amusingly, he plays a mother hen figure in her life, keeping her on a strict daily schedules of work outs and proper diets. Despite this paternal attitude, it's clearly he's becoming romantically enticed by her. The slow-rolling coupling of Pat and Mike is the heart of the story. We know they are falling in love even before they do. However, one obstacle remains: every time Collier attends one of her competitions, she becomes intimidated and loses. In a lively romance in which there are no major crisis, this is presented as the only roadblock standing in the way of Pat and Mike becoming a pair.

The doesn't strive for big belly-laughs and must rank as one of the most low-key romances ever filmed but the witty screenplay allows Tracy and Hepburn to banter, argue, talk over each other and provide plenty of amusing moments. Aldo Ray impresses with his first major screen role and there are fine contributions by familiar supporting actors including up-and-comers Jim Backus, Charles Bronson and Chuck Connors (in his screen debut).  The movie also features a number of real-life legendary athletes of the period who appear as themselves. "Pat and Mike" is a true gem largely because it showcases two American acting legends at their best.

The Warner Archive Blu-ray is right up to the company's high standards and features the original trailer.

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In the 1970s and 1980s, New York was going through some tough times, with spiraling crime and grime afflicting the great city. Director Michael Winner tapped into popular sentiments that society was falling apart and law enforcement was too overwhelmed to protect the citizenry. The resulting film, "Death Wish", was as controversial as it was a populist hit. Years before, the notion of a vigilante searching the streets of Gotham in the hopes of meeting up with would-be muggers would not have hit the emotional cord it did in 1974. Some critics called it fascist, others called it racist (despite the fact that Winner took pains to present a multi-racial depiction of the denizens of society). Yet, audiences responded with enthusiasm every time Charles Bronson (in a very fine, subdued performance) let loose on the villains. New York is going through some hard times again due to the impact of the virus, but it's likely Gotham will return to fine form once the current crisis has passed. Until then, "Death Wish"- along with films such as "Taxi Driver" and "Midnight Cowboy"- still serve as cinematic archaeological artifacts of a more challenging era that brought about plenty of problems in society, but also inspired some memorable films. -(Lee Pfeiffer)

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BY DARREN ALLISON

Austrian label Cineploit continues to steadily add to their impressive list of cult European titles. 2020 has been another successful period for the independent label and they round off this somewhat testing year with a couple of highly enjoyable and much anticipated movies. I must begin with Tecnica di un Omicidio aka The Hired Killer (1966), an incredibly unappreciated film that, in many ways, has escaped general recognition for far too long. From a personal perspective, The Hired Killer has been high on my ‘most wanted’ list for several decades. It was one of those films that first captured my attention by way of a simple poster that caught my eye on an otherwise unspectacular stall at a London film fair back in the 1980s. It was one of those rare instances where you simply made an unconscious link; you just knew this was a film that you were going to connect with. Several years on, I also came across a set of lobby cards and for me, it provided another 8 great images that continued to whet my appetite and raise my expectations. This was all before the days of the internet of course, an eventual pathway that would widen the access of film images to a much easier degree. A very rough VHS would eventually come my way and confirmed my initial anticipation- it was a film I loved.

The superb and much missed Robert Webber plays Clint Harris, an experienced hired assassin who is employed by the Organisation. Tired with the lifestyle, Harris wants to leave the business. The Organisation requires his services for one last job - to eliminate a traitor. Harris is usually a one man outfit. However, on this job he has the added burden of working with a partner and his potential replacement,Tony Lo Bello, is an early role for eventual cult favourite Franco Nero. Their target is proving hard to locate due to plastic surgery as well as several plot twists that undermines Harris’s trust.

Italian director Francesco Prosperi’s Italian / French co-production works exceptionally well on many levels. It is far from the typical looking Euro crime thriller and ‘balls to the wall’ action- orientated style that would follow into the 1970s. Regardless of several locations such as Lisbon, Paris and Italy’s Cinecittà Studios in Rome, the film makes good use of the bleak urban landscapes of New York and as a result, retains the look of a more mainstream American production. The film’s pacing also works to its advantage, it’s a cool, slow burner which never wanes but instead gradually builds in a positive way. The Hired Killer can easily be compared with several other films such as Jean-Pierre Melville’s French neo-noir crime film Le Samouraï (1967) or perhaps more closely with Michael Winner’s Charles Bronson action thriller, The Mechanic (1972). However, where The Hired Killer really exceeds is in its depiction of the loneliness associated with the assassin, the discipline of the lifestyle and the removal of any normal form of socialising. The Hired Killer is a bleak observation, a harsh, raw reality check without the aid of Hollywood gloss. Robert Webber is superb. If ever there was a film that reflected his ability to dominate the screen as a leading man, this is it. So often underused in supporting character roles or employed as a Peckinpah heavy sidekick, Webber truly shines as Clint Harris - it’s just a shame that it took a move to Europe to fully confirm this.

Cineploit has delivered a solid transfer of this forgotten gem and marks its worldwide 2K Blu-ray premiere. The colour pallet is muted but natural and fits in perfectly with the film’s overall urban atmosphere. The film is presented in its original 2.35:1 (Techniscope) frame and the DTS-HD 2.0

audio is clean throughout. The film is also presented with optional German and Italian audio with a choice of German or English subtitles. As always, Cineploit has produced another beautiful package. Extras include an exclusive featurette hosted by Eurocrime genre expert Mike Malloy, who examines the contrasting American and European films through the 1960s and 70s. At 13 minutes, it is both fascinating and absorbing and something you could watch for a dedicated hour or so without ever missing a beat. The disc also contains an impressive picture gallery lasting some 10 minutes.

Perhaps best of all, Cineploit have also included (in a separate chapter) Robby Poitevin’s complete film score. Presented in track-by-track or play all options, it’s basically the full CD thrown in for good measure. Poitevin’s score is a great piece of crime jazz in itself, and proves to be an irresistible addition.

All of this is contained within a stylish 28 page hardcover mediabook with UV Spot. The book contains an essay by Udo Rotenberg in German and English and is filled with Italian, French, American and German promotional material and photos. Cineploit’s generous standards are maintained with the inclusion of a double-sided poster with the two Italian locandina poster designs. There is also a choice of four different cover variations including two Italian, one German and one American poster designs - all in a numbered and limited edition of 250, 200, 300 and 250 respectively. A truly inspired choice of film, perfectly executed.

BY TIM GREAVES

During my formative years – as I sat before a steady procession of unforgettable movies, my passion for cinema intensifying with the discovery of the diverse emotions that films proved capable of stirring within me – there were several behind-the-camera names that would show up on opening titles sequences which I started to recognise, people whose involvement in any given picture became synonymous with a fine evening’s entertainment. One of those names was Elliott Kastner. The producer behind dozens of films, from big guns such as the fabulous wartime actioner Where Eagles Dare and Charles Bronson western whodunnit Breakheart Pass, to less remembered gems the like of beautifully melancholic heartbreaker Jeremy and psychological thriller Death Valley, if Elliott Kastner's name was attached to it then, for me, that was a cast-iron guarantee that I wasn't going to come away disappointed.

Which brings us to director Anthony Page's 1978 clerical mystery Absolution starring Richard Burton, which Kastner co-produced (alongside four-times collaborator Danny O'Donovan) and which somehow bypassed me for years until I finally caught up with it recently courtesy of Kino Lorber's new Blu-ray disc. 

Benjie Stanfield (Dominic Guard) is the most promising pupil at a Catholic public school. Feeling the pressure of permanently having to act the model student he starts to develop a rebellious streak. Much to the dismay of his austere housemaster, Father Goddard (Richard Burton), Stanfield begins associating with ne’er-do-well traveller Blakey (Billy Connolly) who's set up camp in the woodland adjacent to the school and whose bohemian lifestyle strikes the young lad as idyllic. Furthermore, Stanfield starts to spin outrageous fictions to Goddard which, bound by the seal of the confessional, the incensed priest is powerless to punish him for. Then, following an argument with Blakey, the distraught Stanfield confesses to Goddard that he lost his temper and killed the man. Is he telling the truth, or is it just more mischief? And when he confides that he'd like to do away with irritating fellow pupil Arthur Dyson (David Bradley), can the poor, beleaguered Father Goddard manage to stop him?

For the most part tautly directed by Anthony Page, Absolution is a keen-edged mystery from the pen of Anthony Shaffer (whose other notable works include The Wicker Man, Frenzy and ultimate twisty-turny thriller Sleuth). Yes, the first half is something of a leisurely affair, taking perhaps a shade too much time to establish its protagonists. But hang on in there, because at the midway point the screw begins to turn and continues to tighten up the suspense to almost knuckle-whitening levels as the story reaches its (semi-)predictable dénouement. And if it is predictable to any degree, that's only because, coming as it does from the writer of the aforementioned Sleuth, one spends the film’s runtime trying to second-guess its sting (one aspect of which, expected or otherwise, still harbours a shockingly brutal punch).

I don't think I've ever seen a disappointing Richard Burton performance – even in those occasionally questionable projects (which, with hindsight, he himself might have conceded were poor judgment calls) he was always the dominating presence – and with Absolution arriving the same year as The Medusa Touch and The Wild Geese we can certainly be thankful to 1978 for its delicious crop of Burton victuals. His exemplary performance here as Father Goddard, which came towards the end of a career cut tragically short by his premature death in 1984, is spellbinding; the character's burgeoning air of desperation and despair is relayed to perfection. Just as he should be, Dominic Guard is irksomely smirky and objectionably arrogant as Stanfield, the blue-eyed boy gone bad who's holding the whip hand and seemingly relishing every moment of it. David Bradley (probably best known for his starring role in Kes, credited here as Dai Bradley) garners audience empathy as underdog Dyson, the gawky target of Stanfield's disdain. Billy Connolly meanwhile is first-rate in his film debut, revealing a talent that stretched far beyond the stand-up comedy for which, back in 1978, he was almost exclusively renowned. The supporting cast includes a typically gruff Andrew Keir as the school's headmaster, Brian Glover as a thuggish policeman and the always engaging Hilary Mason, Oh, and unless I'm very much mistaken, Linda Robson puts in a single shot cameo as a school dinner lady.

As tales of priests vexed by the sanctity of the confessional go, Absolution would make for a very fine double-feature companion to gripping Hitchcock drama I Confess. And where with films such as this the words "don't watch the trailer before you've seen the film" are a fairly mandatory warning, in Absolution's case it's imperative one take heed. I mention this specifically because the original trailer is included among the bonus features on Kino Lorber's Blu-ray release and it recklessly throws away a key moment from the climax. If the disc’s menu screen sets off alarm bells with its excessively grainy still image of Richard Burton, it shouldn't be cause for concern; the 1.85:1 transfer of the feature is almost impeccable, faltering only at the tail end of the closing credits with evidence of some minor print damage. The aforementioned "avoid at all costs" trailer aside, the disc’s all too sparse supplements comprise just a pair of thematically-associated trailers (for Donald Sutherland vehicle The Rosary Murders, and True Confessions starring the two Roberts, De Niro and Duvall).

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(Editor's note: "Absolution" is now streaming on Amazon Prime, although the source print seems to be a muddy "dollar store" DVD.)

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