The 1970 film adaptation John Le Carre's 1965 Cold War novel The Looking Glass War is now available for streaming on Amazon Prime. The movie has been largely forgotten and relatively unseen since its release, which is odd given the consistent interest in all things Le Carre. Christopher Jones plays Leiser, a twenty-something Polish illegal immigrant in London who has the goal of being able to live there with his pregnant girlfriend, Susan (Susan George.) Although prone to bad habits and unpredictable behavior, Leiser is intent on taking his future role as a father seriously. He is arrested for immigration violations, however, and an MI6 boss LeClerc (Ralph Richardson) concocts an audacious plan to manipulate Leiser into spying for the West. Using a legal immigration status as a carrot, LeClerc gets Leiser to reluctantly agree to the scheme. The young man is given a crash course in spying by another MI6 agent, Avery (Anthony Hopkins). He proves an adept enough student when it comes to handling the physical requirements of the job. (The film's best sequence finds the two men engaged in a knock-down, extended brawl when a training exercise gets out of hand when their personal animosities take over.) However, Leiser sneaks away for a brief romantic interlude with Susan but he is emotionally distraught when she tells him she has aborted their baby. Although having lost the main goal of his life- fatherhood- Leiser agrees to go on a secret mission into East Germany to search for evidence of a deadly new class of missiles that MI6 feels could tilt the Cold War in the direction of the Soviets.
Director/screenwriter Frank Pierson took considerable liberties with the source novel, but it still retains LeCarre's trademarks: a highly complex plot peppered with all sorts of extraneous characters who epitomize the author's cynical view that, when it came to espionage, there was little moral difference between East and West. Still, the film is far less confusing than the over-rated 2011 big screen version of LeCarre's Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy which won international acclaim although seemingly no one I have discussed the film with can begin to explain what it's all about. One of the main problems is that Leiser is an unsympathetic protagonist. As played by Jones, fully in his James Dean/Marlon Brando mumbling mode, he is a fairly unlikable character, routinely lying, breaking his word and abusing those around him, including Susan, who he physically assaults. It's pretty hard to consider him one of the good guys. Nevertheless, Jones, who was always underrated as a screen presence, uses his good looks and charisma to full advantage so you can't help but hope he survives his seemingly suicidal mission in the most intrusive and paranoid society the world has ever seen. The film does pick up steam once Leiser makes it under a barbed wire fence and is forced to reluctantly kill an East German border guard. The scene is quite suspenseful, as is another fine sequence in which the desperate and wounded Leiser accepts a ride from a predatory farmer who unexpectedly tries to goad him into performing a homosexual sex act- with tragic results. Leiser also picks up a hitchhiker himself, but- this being a 1960s spy movie- she's a drop-dead gorgeous blonde (played by flash-in-the-pan starlet Pia Degermark), who later reemerges in the story in a not-too-convincing plot twist that is designed to provide an obligatory sex scene. The first coincidental meeting between them takes place on a country road where she is traveling with a young boy who she introduces as her friend. Their relationship is never explained and the kid is never seen again when she has an ridiculously improbable reunion with Leiser in a nightclub. There's also a humdinger of ludicrous plot point in the first scene of the movie. Here, an MI6 agent in a foreign country obtains a roll of secret film that has proof positive of the missile system. He is handed the film by his contact. The agent gripes that his departmental budget is so small that they didn't give him cab fare. Thus, after obtaining this all-important evidence, he is left to trudge along a desolate road in the dead of night in the freezing cold. He is struck by a car and the film is lost. MI6 calculates this as murder and assume the Reds now have the film, which Leiser must retrieve. Really? We're all for financial restraint but the idea that the lack of taxi fare would endanger such important evidence is beyond crazy. It's just one of the improbable elements of Pierson's screenplay.
The film boasts a hip jazz score by Wally Stott, that nevertheless seems out of place in this dark espionage tale and the cinematography by Austin Dempster finds beauty in the East German countryside that contrasts with the "Show your papers" demands made by the secret police he encounters along the way. The performances among the supporting actors are all first rate, with Hopkins particularly impressive in an early screen role. The Looking Glass War is by no means the best of the LeCarre film adaptations (nothing has really equaled The Spy Who Came in From the Cold. ) However, it is an intelligent thriller (a few absurdities aside) with exotic locations and an impressive cast. Retro spy movie lovers will certainly enjoy it.
The British iconic
comedy actor Leslie Phillips had died aged 98 after a long illness. He appeared
in more than 200 films, TV and radio series over an eight-decade career, and
will be forever remembered for his appearances in the Carry On and Doctor
comedies. The actor was awarded an OBE from Queen Elizabeth II in 1998, and was
promoted to CBE in the 2008 New Years Honours. He was also well known for his
catchphrase "Ding dong" - a reference to his character Jack Bell in
1959's Carry on Nurse. Younger fans will
remember him as the voice of the 'Sorting Hat' in the Harry Potter films. Phillips' talents weren't confined to comedies. He also played dramatic roles in films such as "The Jackal", "Scandal", "The Longest Day" and "Empire of the Sun". For more, click here.
Issue #54 of Cinema Retro has now shipped to subscribers worldwide. There was a delay in the mailings to North and South America and Asia due to a snafu in the distribution and importation process which we had no control over. We apologize for any inconvenience.
This the last issue of this season. If you order Season 18 now, you will receive all three copies for 2022 (issues #52, 53 and 54).
Thanks for all of our subscribers who are renewing for Season 19. If you would care to do so and receive all three issues for 2023, please click here.
Highlights of issue #54 include:
Mike Siegel reveals his involvement in the restoration of lost footage for the Blu-ray releases of Sam Peckinpah's "Convoy" and "The Osterman Weekend".
Mark Mawston presents part 2 of his exclusive interview with John Leyton about co-starring with Frank Sinatra in "Von Ryan's Express".
Nicholas Anez revisits director Richard Lester's "Robin and Marian" starring Sean Connery, Audrey Hepburn and Robert Shaw.
Simon Lewis explores the endless trials in bringing the WWII epic "Tora! Tora! Tora!" to the big screen.
Gareth Owen celebrates the 60th anniversary of the James Bond films with behind-the-scenes stories, events and rare photos from Pinewood Studios.
Hank Reineke looks back on "The Last Man on Earth" starring Vincent Price.
Plus columns by Raymond Benson, Darren Allison and Brian Hannan.
Quite often in Marty,
from 1955, there are long takes (some multiple minutes long) that calmly
observe the anodyne activities and interactions of the little people that the
film takes as its subject matter. It might be tempting to think of such shots
as theatrical – although the film adapts a teleplay (by Paddy Chayevsky,
a key writer in what is often thought of as television’s Golden Age of live
drama) and not a piece of theatre per se. Yet while some of the shots of the
film are static, none approximate the perspective of an imagined audience at
the theater and many are about characters moving quietly through space as the
camera glides along with them. This is a resonant form of cinematic
storytelling in its own right.
In an historical moment
where Hollywood was turning often to splashy and spectacular films (what the
self-congratulatory musical Silk Stockings extolls as “Glorious
Technicolor, Breathtaking CinemaScope and Stereophonic Sound”) to challenge the
easy domesticity of television viewership, Marty took a different path:
it tried to rival the small-screen by showing that Hollywood could make little
pictures (little in narrative ambition, that is, and unassuming visual style) that
might outdo television at its own game by re-making television’s own offerings.
Marty tells
of a Queens butcher (Borgnine) who is desperate for love but blocked by
insecurity, low self-regard around his looks and bodily frame (he’s quite
stocky), and by his own internalization of the macho codes of the dead-end guys
he hangs out with. When he meets plain schoolteacher Clara (Betsy Blair) at a
dance hall, the two seeming losers at life find they share a soft suffering at
love’s misfortunes and they hit it off through an evening of walking and
talking and furtively reaching out to each other. Ironically, the friends and
family who have encouraged Marty to find the right woman and get married
realize that his new-found romance could actually take him away from them, and
they try to paint the worst possible picture of Clara. The last section of the
film revolves around Marty’s torment as he is tempted to give in to the
pressures of the locals he’s known so long (his mom, his buddies at the bar)
but also realizes that loving Clara may be his only real shot at happiness, self-respect,
and emotional growth.
Marty was
only one of set of films that cinematically opened up a prior teleplay for the
big screen but it became the most acclaimed, winning the first ever Palme d’Or
at the Cannes Film Festival and then the Oscar for Best Picture (along with
Best Actor, Best Director, and Best Screenplay, the latter in a moment where
there wasn’t a distinction between Original and Adapted so that Chayefsky could
win for a reworking of his teleplay). It is perhaps worth noting that the Oscar
for Best Picture the following year went to the big-cast, multiple
location epic Around the World in Eighty Days – Hollywood thereby
returning to business as usual. But Marty helped legitimate a tradition
of intimate dramas that, as entertainment journalists Bryan Reesman and Max
Evry note in their well-researched and wide-ranging commentary track for the
Blu-ray of Marty, led to the low-budget indie tales of recent decades.
(The commentators are particularly good at noting Marty’s direct
influence on the Baltimore working class narratives of Barry Levinson.)
Reesman and Evry make
continued reference to the celebrated TV version of Marty from 1953
where the key roles were played by Rod Steiger and Nancy Marchand, and it’s too
bad this Blu-ray edition of the film couldn’t have included the earlier
teleplay. (Maybe there were licensing issues?) The only added Marty features
in fact are a trailer for the film (along with other of the intimate films made
from teleplays) and the commentary track. The latter is quite rich in insights
– about similar small dramas of the time, about European influences on working
class Hollywood realism, about the writer and director and the actors, and so
on. At times perhaps, the very capaciousness of the commentary means that the
film itself can get left behind. But Marty is itself emotionally
resonant enough to stand on its own as one watches this very key film of the
1950s.
“Wagon Master” (1950), a Blu-Ray release from the Warner Archive, is
director John Ford’s film about the first wagon train of Mormons to cross miles
of treacherous desert and mountain terrain in order to settle in Utah’s San
Juan Valley. It opens, however, with a short, almost incongruous prelude, in
which an outlaw family known as the Cleggs robs a bank. They kill a bank
employee and, after family patriarch Uncle Shiloh (Charles Kemper) takes a
bullet in the shoulder, they run off into the desert with the money. They are
pursued by the sheriff and his posse but we don’t see much of them again for
another 40 minutes. But you know they’re out there.
Ward Bond, one of Ford’s “stock company” players, is Elder
Wiggins, the Mormon leader, who started out for San Juan without exactly
knowing how to get there. He runs into a couple of wandering cowboys, Travis
Blue (Ben Johnson) and Sandy (Harry Carey, Jr.), who’ve just come from the San
Juan River area. At first they resist his offer of a job, until Sandy meets
Prudence Perkins (Kathleen O’Malley), daughter of Adam Perkins (Russell
Simpson) one of the Mormon Elders. He convinces Travis to accept the job as
Wagon Master.
The next half hour shows us the hardships they had to
endure during the desert crossing, while Sandy and Prudence start a romance,
and the laconic Travis whittles a stick and plays with his lariat. On the way,
however, they encounter a broken down medicine show wagon belonging to Doctor
A. Locksley Hall (Alan Mowbray), who is accompanied by two showgirls, Denver
(Joanne Dru) and Fleuretty Phyffe (Ruth Clifford). Mowbray plays almost the
same character he played in Ford’s “My Darling Clementine” and Denver is one of
Ford’s typical Shady Ladies, similar to Dallas (Claire Trevor) in “Stagecoach”
(1939). Travis falls for her.
The wagon train starts to run out of water at one point
but they make it to a river and that night everybody’s happy and they do what
all John Ford pioneer do in that situation. They have a hoe down—in the middle
of which, who should show up, looking like a pack of mangy coyotes? You guessed
it. The Cleggs. They come in out of the night carrying rifles and have the
Mormons at their mercy. The Cleggs must have been close relatives of the
Hammonds, the subhuman gold miners who would show up some 12 years later in Sam
Peckinpah’s “Ride the High Country” (1962). Surely Peckinpah was “inspired” by
Hank Worden’s imbecilic Luke Clegg when he cast Warren Oates as the degenerate
Henry Hammond, who never took baths and wanted to share his brother Billy’s new
bride on their wedding night. The whole Hammond clan look, talk, and act
exactly like the Cleggs. But that’s a topic for another discussion.
At any rate, they force Doc Hall to take the bullet out
of Uncle Shiloh’s shoulder and decide to stick with the Mormons until such time
as they can be sure the sheriff and his posse have stopped looking for them. Next
some Navajos show up. But they are friendly, because, while they don’t like
white men “because they’re thieves,” they do like Mormons because they are only
“little thieves.” But when one of the Cleggs molests a Navajo woman, Wiggins is
forced to order the offending Clegg tied to a wagon wheel and whipped. When
Uncle Shiloh protests, Wiggins tells him a whipping is better than a scalping.
But the incident creates resentment in Uncle Shiloh that will result in a final
showdown later on.
“Wagon Master” is classic John Ford, filmed on location
in Monument Valley and Moab, Utah, with Ford’s iconic imagery and the usual thematic
statements about the indomitability of the human spirit, and the development of
a community in an unfriendly wilderness. But it differs from most of his other
films in two ways. First of all, although it was filmed on Ford’s favorite
location, it was shot by cinematographer Bert Glendon in black and white
instead of color. He eschewed the gorgeous hues of Monument Valley, and instead
created a backdrop that seems more fitting the grim life and death struggle of
the Mormons trying to reach the Promised Land. Second, unlike the other films he
shot there, whether in color or black and white, there is no larger- than- life
hero, no John Wayne, or Henry Fonda, to take on the heavies and save the day. In
“Wagon Master” the main characters are all average people. Travis and Sandy are
simply drifters. Elder Wiggins is a man of strong character, but neither he,
nor Sandy or Travis are gunmen. They admit to themselves and each other they’re
scared of the Cleggs, but Wiggins says he’ll never let them know it. Nor will
he let his people know it. Without the Duke, the little people have to stand up
for themselves.
The Warner Archive has provided a clear, sharp 1080p high
definition transfer of the film to disc, as well as a terrific audio commentary
track, featuring director Peter Bogdanovich and cast member Harry Carey, Jr.
talking about the film as they watch it. Carey tells what it was like, and how
he felt, working with Ford. His comments are priceless. In one scene where Ford
tilted his hat to one side, Carey gripes to Bogdanovich: “Why did he have me
wear my hat that way? I look like a village idiot!”
Bogdanovich and Carey’s commentary is interspersed with
audio clips of Bogdanovich’s 1966 interview with Ford himself, in which he
presents his own view of his work. He tells Bogdanovich he never thought of his
films in terms of them being art. “I am a hard-nosed director,” he says. “I’m
not carrying any messages. I have no personal feelings about the pictures. If I
liked the script, I shot it. It was nothing earth-shaking. It was a job of
work.”
It may have been just a job as far as Ford was concerned,
but it was a job he did extremely well and sometimes a job of work can be a
work of art. Highly recommended.
David
Nutter is a director who has worked almost exclusively in television through
his entire career, most notably helming episodes of 21 Jump Street (1987
– 1991), Superboy (1988 – 1992), The X-Files (1998 – 2018), ER
(1994 – 2009), The “Kevin Finnerty” episode of The Sopranos (1999 –
2007), Entourage (2004 – 2011) and Game of Thrones (2011 – 2019),
to name an illustrious few. His two theatrical credits to date are Cease
Fire (1998) with Don Johnson and Disturbing Behavior starring James
Marsden and Katie Holmes, a film released in New York on Friday, July 24, 1998,
that attempts to be a commentary on high school culture and ends up being a
pastiche of parts of Village of the Damned (1960), A Clockwork Orange
(1971), The Stepford Wives (1975) and Invasion of the Body Snatchers
(1978).
Steve
Clark’s (Marsden) family has moved to Cradle Bay, Washington from Chicago, Illinois
following his older brother Allen’s (Ethan Embry) suicide (shown in flashback
snippets), which is a topic off-limits during family dinners. Steve’s parents
want to behave as though the tragedy never happened and when he starts
attending his new high school, he is befriended by outcasts Gavin (Nick Stahl),
U.V. (Chad Donella) and Rachel (Katie Holmes) but is encouraged to join a group
of preppy, school-sweater wearing seniors known as the Blue Ribbons who promote
themselves as do-gooders but come off as cliquish and robotic. Gavin is
suspicious of the cult-like group and admonishes Steve to avoid them, fearing
their artificial smiles. Something just seems “off” about them. Gavin’s
conjecture about the Blue Ribbons proves correct when, while overhearing a PTA
meeting, it comes to light that school psychologist Dr. Edgar Caldicott (Atom
Egoyan favorite Bruce Greenwood) is responsible for hypnotizing and
brainwashing the teens into subservient, positive-thinking students to curb
juvenile delinquency. He has implanted brain microchips into the teens with
their parents’ consent – apparently, even they are tired of out-of-control
adolescents! The teens’ sexual urges are too strong, however, to be controlled by
the procedure and, when aroused, they act out in fits of violent,
amygdala-hijacking rage. Newberry, a fly-on-the-wall janitor portrayed by
William Sadler, is on to Caldicott and leaves the screen with deliberate
abandon with a memorable shoutout to Pink Floyd’s Another Brick in the Wall.
Without spoiling the ending, let’s just say that Gavin does an about-face.
What
had the potential to truly dive into the very universal nature of the existence
of disparate characters in American high schools and what the driving force is behind
such behavior is missed in this film that instead simply wants to come off as
scary but fails to do so. The by-the-numbers plot is so different from what the
director envisioned due to negative audience test screenings that the film
studio felt compelled to order more edits to alter the movie’s direction and in
the process is such a mess that it has left the audiences wanting something
different. For many years, I avoided anything and everything taking place in
high school as most films of this ilk tend to have one-note cardboard cut-outs
wherein no one is a complex character – good-looking jocks and sexy
cheerleaders are always assholes, nerds are devoid of self-confidence and are sexually
inexperienced and consequently shunned, and teachers are often portrayed as
doofuses. Any action partaking in hallways with lockers and bullies
automatically makes me cringe.
It’s
no secret that director Nutter was unhappy with this cut of the film, so much
so that he contemplated pulling an “Allan Smithie” on it but reconsidered.
Disturbing
Behavior was released on
Blu-ray from Shout! Factory in 2016 and the new pressing from MVD Rewind Collection
is identical to that release (it ports over the same extras) except for adding
a cardboard sleeve and a pullout poster in the company’s requisite differentiation.
It also represents a missed opportunity to provide the audience with the
desired director’s cut of the film which can be read about here, something that I hope a future
release will provide. This release suffers from a dark transfer that makes it
difficult to see most of the action.
The
extras contain:
Full-length
feature audio commentary from director Nutter who talks about the making of the
film, the performers involved, and the overall story and how it came about.
Deleted
Scenes – this section consists of the following 11 scenes:
1.
Caldicott Talks About His Daughter
2.
Newberry Tells Steve the Truth
3.
Office Cox Gives Steve a Ride Home
4.
Steve’s Nightmare
5.
Steve Confronts Dad
6.
Caldicott Explains His Plan
7.
Steve Walks Lindsay Home
8.
Steve Talks About His Brother
9.
Mom Finds the Gun
10.
Rachel Vents to Steve / Love Scene
11.
The Original Ending
The deleted scenes
run just under 25 minutes and are even darker than the film presentation.
Disturbing
Behavior theatrical trailer,
which runs 2:31 in length.
The
late director Tony Scott’s Top Gun (1986) was the top dog at the box
office in 1986, grossing over $350 million globally and understandably
compelling studio Paramount Pictures to want to fast-track a follow-up to it.
The idea that roughly thirty-six years would exist between it and the original
film, which catapulted Tom Cruise to super stardom and household name status, is
something that no one could have predicted, especially the film’s producers Don
Simpson and Jerry Bruckheimer. This powerhouse producing partnership also yielded
the financially successful Flashdance (1983), Beverly Hills Cop
(1984), and Days of Thunder (1990) before Mr. Simpson’s life was
tragically cut short by drug addiction in 1996.
The
primary question most filmgoers may have going into Top Gun: Maverick is
if seeing the original film is essential. The answer is yes, as the emotional
arc that Mr. Cruise’s character undergoes in the sequel would be lost on those
unfamiliar with its predecessor. For the uninitiated, the original Top Gun
revolves around a group of the world’s best fighter pilots – the top of the
line, or Top Guns. Maverick (Tom Cruise), Goose (Anthony Edwards), and Iceman
(Val Kilmer) are among these pilots, and Charlotte (Kelly McGillis) is an
instructor who begins a romantic relationship with Maverick (he has a
reputation for taking unnecessary risks while flying, but she is intrigued by
him). While on a training mission, a Douglas A-4 Skyhawk light attack aircraft engages
Maverick (Goose is seated behind him) and Iceman (in a separate fighter).
Iceman attempts to lock his sights on the fighter and fails, so Maverick attempts
the maneuver instead. Unfortunately, Maverick’s Grumman F-14 Tomcat flies
through the vapor trail left over from Iceman’s fighter (known as “jet wash”) which
shuts down both of his engines, sending him hurtling towards Earth. Maverick
and Goose eject themselves from the F-14, but Goose slams his head into the top
of the jettisoned aircraft canopy and is killed. Maverick is devastated and
blames himself, despite the military absolving him of any wrongdoing in a
situation over which he had no control.
The
sequel, directed by Joseph Kosinski of Tron: Legacy (2010) fame, is set
over thirty years later and we find Maverick as a test pilot. The “Darkstar”
program is a manned flight in danger of becoming extinct due to the
availability of unmanned drones. Maverick pushes the limit of the prototype
beyond its intended purpose and inadvertently destroys it, infuriating the head
of the program (Ed Harris). Summoned by a now terminally ill Iceman, who is the
commander of the U.S. Pacific Fleet, Maverick is to head up the training of Top
Gun graduates for the purpose of sending them on a mission to destroy a secret uranium
enrichment facility set deep beneath the bottom of a steep canyon. One of the
recruits is Rooster (Miles Teller), the son of Goose from the first film. Maverick
promised Rooster’s mother that he would not allow Rooster to become a pilot for
fear of meeting a similar fate that befell his father and interfered with
Rooster’s career to stop that from happening, something Maverick discloses to
Penny (Jennifer Connelly), an old girlfriend he begins dating again. To his
chagrin, Rooster wants to be The Best, having no knowledge of Maverick’s
interference. This premise is what gives the film the conflict that needs to be
overcome along with what is unquestionably the most awe-inspiring and most
breathtaking fighter footage ever shot for a major motion picture. Had I seen
this film instead of Don Taylor’s The Final Countdown in 1980 at the age
of eleven, I would be a pilot today.
If
I have any carping about the sequel, it is the brief flashback to the original
film; the use of previous footage from a first film is generally anathema to
me, however, I understand the rationale behind the film’s use, and it is a
minor quibble that does not negatively impact the film. Poltergeist II: The
Other Side (1986) did this, with poor results. Top Gun: Maverick
also ports over “Danger Zone”, the hit song by Kenny Loggins that was featured
in the original and was a massive hit.
Jennifer
Connelly was hand-chosen by Mr. Cruise to play his former girlfriend who is
mentioned in passing in the first film. She more than holds her own in this
film. I first saw Mrs. Connelly when she portrayed Jennifer Corvino in Dario
Argento’s supernatural Phenomena (1985), a film role that she landed
after Signor Argento spotted her in Sergio Leone’s Once Upon a Time in
America (1984). She has since become one of America’s foremost actresses.
Top
Gun: Maverick is a
case wherein the sequel easily bests its predecessor. George Miller’s The
Road Warrior (1981) easily blows Mad Max (1979) out of the water,
even though the sequel uses footage from Mad Max!
Top
Gun: Maverick is
now available on 4K UHD Blu-ray and the transfer is reference quality. It comes
with the following extras:
Cleared
for Take Off (HD –
9:15) – This piece illustrates how much personal investment Mr. Cruise put into
this film and how he wanted to take on other film roles to further his craft of
acting. The level of dedication that he gave to this film is incredible. Then
again, he always does.
Breaking
New Ground – Filming Top Gun: Maverick
(HD – 7:56) – This piece dives into the technical challenges beset by the film
crew as traditional methods of filming proved impractical. The desire to film
the performers in the cockpits of the F-18 fighter jets that they are flying
could only be accomplished by designing and manufacturing miniature high
resolution. This required them all to become fighter jet pilots!
A
Love Letter to Aviation
(HD – 4:48) – Mr. Cruise wears many hats in life, and this piece illustrates
his love of flying.
Forging
the Darkstar (HD –
7:31) – This is very cool, the conception and design of the aircraft that is
seen in the beginning of the film.
Masterclass
with Tom Cruise: Cannes Film Festival
(HD – 49:04) – This is my favorite piece as Mr. Cruise talks about his
experiences making films with other directors, and when you look at his
filmography, it is mind-blowing. Mr. Cruise is humble, a wonderful raconteur,
and just as personable as he was when I met him in front of the Ziegfeld
Theater at the premiere of Steven Spielberg’s War of the Worlds in 2005.
Lady
Gaga’s “Hold My Hand” Music Video (HD – 3:52)
OneRepublic’s
“I Ain’t Worried” Music Video (HD – 2:37)
The first major "biker movie" was the 1953 production of "The Wild One", which elevated Marlon Brando from being a hot Hollywood commodity to that of a pop culture icon. Posters of him in his leather jacket and biker's cap still adorn walls today. Given the success of the film, it's surprising that it took until 1966 for the biker film to emerge as a genre. That occurred with the release of Roger Corman's "The Wild Angels". The film- like all Corman productions- was shot on a modest budget but was efficiently made, starred a host of young talents and made a boatload of money (spawning two soundtrack albums in the process.) "The Wild Angels" begat "The Born Losers", which pitted Tom Laughlin's Billy Jack against savage bikers and that begat a host of other lower-grade biker flicks of varying merits. Of course, the genre would hit its peak with Dennis Hopper's 1969 pop culture classic "Easy Rider". At the bottom of the biker barrel was "The Rebel Rousers", a 1967 crudely-made production that was deemed unworthy of a theatrical release. The film did afford prominent roles to up-and-comers Bruce Dern, Harry Dean Stanton and Jack Nicholson and after the latter was vaulted to stardom with his Oscar-nominated turn in "Easy Rider", someone dusted off "The Rebel Rousers" and promoted it as a Nicholson flick. The film is the creation of Martin B. Cohen, who co-wrote the screenplay and kind of directed it. (Many of the scenes between the bikers appear to have been improvised.)
The movie's top-billed star is Cameron Mitchell, who plays Paul Collier, a free-spirited type who arrives in a tiny desert town in search of his lover, Karen (Diane Ladd, the real-life wife of Bruce Dern and another member of "The Wild Angels" cast.) When he finally locates her in a motel, their reunion is less-than-sentimental. She explains that she learned she was pregnant with Paul's child and, fearing he would insist that she undergo an illegal abortion, she fled for parts unknown with little money and even fewer resources. (In reality, Ladd was pregnant with future Oscar winner Laura Dern.) Paul accepts the responsibility for her dilemma and insists on marrying her, but Karen declines on the basis that she fears Paul's life as a rolling stone type would only lead him to abandon her at some point. As the two debate their plans for the future, a secondary plot takes hold in which the Rebel Rousers biker gang rides into town and takes over the local saloon, wreaking havoc, accosting women and causing the town's sheriff (John 'Bud'Cardos) to courageously force them out of town. The gang obliges, but refuse to leave the immediate area, causing headaches for the locals and the sheriff. A chance encounter between Paul and Karen and gang members seems certain to lead to tragedy, as the bikers torment their victims. However, the leader of the gang, J.J. Weston (Dern) turns out to be an old high school acquaintance of Paul's. He "invites" them to join the gang for some festivities on a nearby beach, leaving them no alternative but to comply. Things get out of hand quickly, however, when Bunny (Nicholson), one of the most brutal members of the gang, decides he wants to force himself on Karen. Paul is beaten to a pulp but J.J., showing a smattering of human compassion, challenges Bunny to some motorcycle stunt games on the beach. If Bunny wins, he can claim Karen as his prize. If not, she goes free. The film lumbers to a clunky conclusion in which Paul fails to rally any of the cowardly townspeople to help him rescue Karen (shade of "High Noon"!) and it falls to a previously unseen character (Robert Dix) to unconvincingly take on the mantel of hero.
The film is so sloppily constructed that even Martin Cohen would publicly disown it. The cinematography by the soon-to-be esteemed Laszlo Kovacs and Glen Smith is rather amateurish and there is little evidence of the future star power pertaining to its stars. Only Cameron Mitchell and Diane Ladd provide performances that resonate in any way. There is some minor suspense when the gang kidnap Paul and Karen but much screen time is taken up and padded out with Dern and Nicholson performing some boring biker competitions on the beach. "The Rebel Rousers" has been released on DVD by the indie label Liberty Hall. The print, as you might suspect, has not undergone any restoration efforts and is therefore mediocre, but that's a bit better than I suspected it would be.
The DVD is billed as a "Biker Triple Feature" because it contains two other wildly diverse bonus films. The first, "The Wild Ride", is a micro-budget 1960 production that runs only 61 minutes. It has nothing to do with bikers or biking but does feature Jack Nicholson in an early leading role. He plays the narcissistic and cruel leader of a group of high school students who have formed a cult of personality around him. He routinely insults and abuses them and drops one of his girlfriends, telling her "You're too old." Nicholson, was actually 23 years-old at the time, gives a rather one-note performance under the direction of Harvey Berman, who probably would have tried harder if he knew he had a future cinema icon in his film. The titular wild ride refers to an incident in which Nicholson's speeding car is pursued by a police officer on a motorcycle. The cop crashes and dies and Nicholson faces consequences for his actions. The movie is briskly paced and is entertaining but one can only wonder why Nicholson's character continues to receive unquestioned loyalty, given his rude, crude and cruel ways. On the other hand, we're living in a time in which rude, crude and cruel authoritarian figures are all the rage among vast numbers of the world population, so perhaps the scenario isn't irrational. The print quality is passable, if a bit grainy, though it has been restored by one Johnny Legend in 2009, as evidenced in the credits.
The second bonus feature is titled "Biker Babylon" (aka "It's a Revolution Mother!" (sic), a 1969 feature length documentary directed by Harry Kerwin and a team of fellow future filmmakers of "B" horror flicks. The film's opening credits say we'll see over 5,000 people attending an anti-Vietnam War peach march. Apparently, the team didn't watch their own footage, as the November, 1969 march attracted over a half-million people. The footage of the peace marchers is awkwardly and weirdly juxtaposed with separate segments that follow the exploits of a biker gang known as The Aliens over a particular weekend in which they play to the camera by engaging in outrageous behavior including having a Wesson Oil party that, as you might imagine, involves plenty of naked female flesh. We're told that the role of young women in the gang is to be owned by either a particular member or be regarded as common property for the men to have sex with on a whim. Things then move to a Florida Woodstock-like music festival where bikers and rock fans mingle without much to show for it. For whatever reason, the filmmakers don't show us the rock acts but instead just concentrate on thousands of hot, sweaty young people milling about in a muddy terrain.
The most interesting aspect of the set is this documentary, however, largely because it does crudely capture the anti-Vietnam War movement at its peak. It provides an interesting time capsule as everyday citizens march with celebrity activists such as Dr. Spock and Dick Gregory, with Gregory demanding that the Nixon administration end the war. (Gregory refers to Vice-President Agnew as Washington D.C.'s version of "Rosemary's Baby". ) What is lacking is context. Nixon squeaked into the presidency in 1968, winning a razor-thin contest against Democratic nominee Hubert Humphrey, largely on running a campaign that promised he had a "secret plan" to end the war that would only be revealed after he took office. The plan turned out to be an escalation of the conflict that would drift into Cambodia. His "law-and-order" administration saw Agnew resign in disgrace after being caught accepting bribes, a practice he had carried over from his tenure as governor of Maryland. Of course, Nixon himself would be caught having covered up for the Watergate break-in and he, too, would resign from office under threat of impeachment from prominent fellow Republicans. Dozens of members of his administration would would be convicted of or plead guilty to crimes. It would have been worth the effort for someone to provide a commentary track reviewing the documentary in a modern context and providing insights into historical events. Instead we get an unintentionally hilarious narrator who peppers his every sentence with perceived hippie jargon in an attempt to appear cool. Instead, he sounds like Jack Webb's Sgt. Joe Friday in one of those "Dragnet" episodes in which he lectures teens about drugs using their own lingo.
"RETRO-ACTIVE: THE BEST FROM THE CINEMA RETRO ARCHIVE"
BY ERNIE MAGNOTTA
There's nothing I like better than getting
hold of a movie that I've been searching over three decades for and adding it
to my collection. At my age, there aren't many vintage films left that I don't
own in one format or another, so when I very pleased when I heard that the 1976 cult
classic Bobbie Jo and the Outlaw was
getting a Blu-ray release. This movie has somehow always managed to elude me.
It never seemed to play on any of my cable stations in the early 80s, we never
had a copy of it at the video store I worked at in the mid-80s and I was still
never able to find a copy of it anywhere throughout the 90s. To be honest, by
the time the 21st century hit, I completely forgot about this movie,
so I was pretty surprised and even more excited to find out that it was not
only being released on Blu-ray, but also with quite a few special features.
Why? To begin with, I'm a tremendous fan of the director; not to mention the
entire cast and, last, but not least, I just love fun, action/crime/drama
exploitation films from the 1970s.
Produced and directed by Mark Lester (Truck Stop Women, Roller Boogie, Class of
1984), written by Vernon Zimmerman (Unholy
Rollers, Fade to Black) and released by American International Pictures,
modern western Bobbie Jo and the Outlaw
tells the tale of quick-draw expert and Billy the Kid enthusiast Lyle Wheeler
(Marjoe Gortner, Earthquake, Food of the
Gods, Viva Knievel!, Starcrash) who, together with waitress and aspiring
country singer Bobbi Jo Baker (TV’s one and only Wonder Woman, Lynda Carter) experiences a dangerous cross country
adventure filled with love, robbery and murder.
So, was the movie worth the wait? I certainly
think so. It may not be in the same league as, say, Bonnie and Clyde (1967), but it's still an extremely enjoyable,
well-directed, written and acted low-budget feature that definitely deserves to
be seen. To begin with, Mark Lester's direction is not only solid, but he is
just at home directing the quiet, more character-driven and dramatic/romantic
scenes as he is directing a sequence involving heavy action and stunts. Next
up, Vernon Zimmerman's wonderful writing not only creates an engaging story,
but interesting and likeable three-dimensional characters as well. Lyle Wheeler
aka the Outlaw, seems to live by his own code and has definite ideas of good
and evil; right and wrong. Marjoe Gortner effortlessly and believably gets all
this across and makes his character quite likeable. (This may be my favorite
Gortner performance.) The stunning Lynda Carter gets to show a bit more range
then she did as Wonder Woman and is extremely convincing as the hopeful and
somewhat naive Bobbi Jo. The rest of the outrageously talented cast not only
add immensely to the film, but clearly came to play. Jesse Vint (Chinatown, Forbidden World) perfectly
plays Slick Callahan; a wild, not too bright cocaine fiend and boyfriend of
Bobbi Jo's sister, Pearl. Gorgeous Merrie Lynn Ross (Class of 1984, TVs General
Hospital), who also co-produced the film, brings a hardened heart quality
to slightly ditzy stripper Pearl, and the always welcome Belinda Balaski (Piranha, The Howling) shines as hippie
waitress Essie Beaumont. Rounding out the top-notch cast is Gene Drew (Truck Stop Women) as a no-nonsense
sheriff, B-movie legend Gerrit Graham (Beware!
The Blob, Phantom of the Paradise, The Annihilators, C.H.U.D. II: Bud the
C.H.U.D.) as a helpful hippie, Virgil Frye (Graduation Day), who replaced Dennis Hopper, as a macho gas station
attendant with something to prove, Peggy Stewart (Alias Billy the Kid, Beyond Evil) as Bobbi Jo's alcoholic mom, and
James Gammon (Major League) as a fast
talking salesman.
The New Mexico-lensed, low-budget feature
also benefits from some nice Albuquerque locations, Grammy winner Barry De
Vorzonâ's (The Young and the Restless,
Dillinger, Rolling Thunder) memorable score, Stanley Wright's lovely cinematography,
and "Those City Lights", a catchy country song by Bobby Bare (Tremors). A lot of people believe that
the only reason to see this film is for Lynda Carter's brief nude scene. While
Lynda looks absolutely beautiful and made both my eyes very happy, the movie
itself has more going for it than just that. All in all, it's an extremely
solid and fun piece of 1970s exploitation cinema that fans of this lost era of
filmmaking are sure to enjoy.
Bobbie Jo and the
Outlaw has
been released on Blu-ray by Kino Lorber. The Region 1 disc presents the movie in
its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio. Although the gorgeous transfer is slightly
grainy-looking at times (mostly in a few of the nighttime scenes), it never
detracts from the story, and the images are otherwise extremely clear making
the HD movie beautiful to look at. The disc also contains quite a few wonderful
special features including the original trailer, interviews with Mark Lester
(who mentions various aspects of the film such as casting, directing, budget
and the fact that the concept of the film was inspired by the classic Eagles
hit "Desperado"), Merrie Lynn Ross (who goes into detail about being both an
actor and a producer) and Belinda Balaski (who talks about how she got cast,
how she developed her character, and her recollection of working with Lynda
Carter) as well as a very interesting and informative audio commentary by
director Lester. If, like me, you're a fan of 70s action/crime cinema, I
recommend checking out Bobbie Jo and the
Outlaw.
Cinema Retro was
invited to cover the Daniel Craig/ Stephen Colbert interview event at the New Jersey Performing Arts Center in Newark on Friday, October 28 as part of the
Montclair Film Festival. It was quite an enjoyable evening and featured the best interview I've ever seen Craig give.
He has been on Colbert's chat show many times and by now they have an Abbott
and Costello-like relationship. The set was designed as a living room, with Craig and Colbert perched comfortably in facing chairs, which gave the impression you were observing two guys speaking privately even though it was in front of an auditorium of over 2,000 people. (Amusingly, if you looked closely, you could see a model Aston Martin DB5 placed on top of a table.)To keep the atmosphere loose, Colbert would periodically walk over to a bar and mix drinks for the two participants. Colbert got Craig to talk about his
hardscrabble early days in Liverpool, his early film career and his experiences working on specific films with specific co-stars. There was plenty of
time devoted to talking about 007. Craig said he only spoke personally with one of his
predecessors in the role, Pierce Brosnan, but said he appreciated Sean
Connery's public comments praising his work as Bond. He was extremely positive
about the producers and everything the series has afforded him, career-wise.
His said his favorite Bond film in which he didn't appear is "Goldfinger". Craig also spoke of his delight at being part of the "Knives Out" series and praised the writer/director Rian Johnson.
(Photo: Montclair Film)
When it was announced
that the event would allow for questions for the audience, I had concerns. We
all know that an open microphone tends to attract at least a few people who can
be relied upon to ask cringe-inducing questions. But Artistic Director Tom Hall
defused this possibility early on and in a humorous manner by advising
attendees that asking the stars to review their personal film project or some
other such pipe dream was not going to happen. Consequently, the questions that
were asked were intelligent and lead to insightful answers.
(Photo: Cinema Retro)
There were some
well-chosen film clips demonstrating the evolution of Craig’s career and he was
also extremely funny throughout the night. It left me with the realization
that, while I greatly admire his Bond films, they never capitalized on his
talent for humor and witticisms the way previous films did for their lead
actors. At the end of the event, Colbert presented Craig with a career achievement award to rapturous applause. In all, a terrific evening. Well done, Montclair Film Festival.
In a worthy attempt to focus attention on the work of writer/producer/director/actor Delmer Daves, Criterion has released a Blu-ray edition of his 1956 Western Jubal. It's a rather odd choice for the label, which specializes in gold-standard editions of established classics and revered cult films. On the surface, Jubal may sound like a standard horse opera, especially with the title role played by reliable-but-unexciting Glenn Ford. However, the reason why Criterion sought to have the movie re-evaluated is immediately apparent. This is an unusually mature Western with a very dramatic story line that builds in intensity under Daves' assured direction. Ford plays Jubal Troop, a troubled loner and drifter, who is saved from certain death in the mountains by Shep Horgan (Ernest Borgnine), a boisterous but kind prominent rancher who nurses Jubal back to health and rewards him with a job on his ranch. It isn't long before Jubal proves his worth and impresses Shep enough to make him the new foreman- an act that offends and alienates another, long-time ranch hand, "Pinky" Pinkus (Rod Steiger), who had sought the position himself. Jubal's seemingly idyllic situation is further hampered by the fact that Shep's sultry Canadian wife Mae (Valerie French) is disgusted by her husband's boorish behavior and his tendency to treat her as a prized steer. Clearly suffering from sexual frustration, the isolated woman exists in a world of misogynistic men. It isn't long before she's making eyes at Jubal, who must summon all of his willpower to resist her advances out of respect for his friendship with Shep. Adding to the rising tensions is the fact that Mae had once had a fling with "Pinky" and he can't accept the fact that she now favors Jubal. The intricate plot takes numerous turns leading to Mae's manipulation of Shep and Jubal by implying to her husband that she has slept with his ranch foreman. This sets in motion a series of tragic circumstances.
Although Daves is best known for his seminal Western 3:10 to Yuma, there is much in Jubal that rivals that classic. Daves makes full use of the magnificent Wyoming locations, using the widescreen process as effectively as George Stevens did with Shane. While the personal relationships of the principal characters are perpetually in crisis mode, Daves seems to use the sweeping cinematography to intentionally dwarf the key players, as though to imply that, in the end, we're all just rather inconsequential figures in nature's landscape. The performances are all first rate, and this may well be the most effective performance of Glenn Ford's career. His low-key approach to acting has often been dismissed as boring, but Ford always brought a quiet intensity and "guy next door" quality to each of his performances. As Jubal, he's just a shy man who wants to get through the demons of his past by starting a new life that is unblemished by personal stress. Instead, he finds himself in the unlikely situation of being embroiled in a cauldron of sexual tension, betrayal and violent death. Ernest Borgnine is terrific as the hapless Shep, a likable "man's man" who remains oblivious to the fact that the wife he so adores has nothing but contempt for him. Rod Steiger seems a bit out of place here, as he as always seemed far more comfortable in gritty, urban dramas. Valerie French practically steams up the screen as the femme fatale at the heart of the deception that endangers the men in her life. She clearly the villain, but you can't help but empathize with her plight, which must have mirrored that of countless women of the plains: she is trapped in a man's world of endless work with little appreciation for her femininity beyond her "duty" to provide sex.
The Criterion transfer is flawless and the colors leap off the screen. Frustratingly, the film is devoid of any bonus extras. It would have been a nice touch to hear a film scholar discuss the film and Daves' work in general. However, there is a booklet that contains a lengthy and informative essay by Kent Jones. If you like Western, this one is a "must".
Brendan Fraser started as most actors do, trying to land supporting roles in high profile films. He landed the leading role in low-brow 1992 comedy "Encino Man" in which he played a caveman in the modern era. Over the next few years, he worked steadily- if unevenly- in a range of films that failed to score at the boxoffice. That changed in 1997 when he played the role of George of the Jungle, a big screen adaptation of a 1960s cartoon series. With his hunky good looks, athletic physique and ability to perform difficult stunts, Fraser was in demand when the film proved to be a hit. More successes followed with "The Mummy" and its sequel. Fraser excelled in playing genial, if fallible action heroes and romantic leads, but he also proved he had the talent to portray dramatic characters as well, as evidenced by his acclaimed performances in "Gods and Monsters" and "The Quiet American". He also won plaudits for his performance as Brick in a 2001 stage production of Tennessee Williams' classic "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof". Then things slowed down. A few modest hits aside, Fraser appeared mostly in forgettable films and in supporting roles in TV productions. A volatile divorce, medical consequences from the many stunts her performed earlier in his career and other personal challenges led to him virtually dropping out of sight a few years ago. Fans who had grown up on his work in the 1990s speculated that he might soon fit into the "Whatever happened to?" category. His much-anticipated role as a villain in the "Batgirl" feature film was a casualty of Warner Brothers' decision to cancel the unfinished film. But Fraser has had plenty to be happy about recently. He landed a major role in Martin Scorsese's currently-filming "Killers of the Flower Moon" and has recently generated Oscar buzz for his leading role in director Darren Aronofsky's dramatic film "The Whale", which premiered last month at the Venice Film Festival to a six-minute standing ovation.
I joined my fellow ink-stained wretches of the press for a screening of the film last Sunday at The Montclair Film Festival in New Jersey. Fraser was on hand to be interviewed by Stephen Colbert, who resides in Montclair and who, along with his wife Evelyn, have been major players in the creation of the film festival, which holds screenings in two local historic theaters, the one-time Cinerama showcase The Claridge and the Wellmont, a grand old venue where this event took place. The cavernous Wellmont had a packed house and the crowd was made up of true cinephiles, as evidenced by their rapt attention to the film and the interview that followed. Nobody was texting, talking or otherwise distracting from the proceedings, despite the fact that there were three bars on site dispensing plenty of adult beverages. This was my first time attending the festival and I was impressed by the atmosphere and choice of venues.
As for "The Whale", like many critics, I found myself with mixed feelings. The primary reason to see the film is because of Fraser's justifiably acclaimed performance. It has been noted that the actor is now more beefy than beefcake but don't confuse Fraser with Charlie, the character he plays in the film, who is a 600-pound man confined to his apartment. Fraser required a rather amazing prosthetic "fat suit" as well as some convincing CGI effects to convincingly play a person this morbidly obese. The film opens on a jarring note. Charlie is slouched in his couch masturbating to a gay porn video, and his aroused state almost causes his death. In fact, virtually every movement is a challenge for Charlie, a kindhearted man whose only regular connection to society is his job teaching an online college course in literature via Zoom. Because he is ashamed of his appearance, he tells his students that his camera is broken. He can see them, but they can't see him, which unintentionally allows him to create an air of mystery about his persona. Charlie is obsessed with Herman Melville's "Moby Dick", and the analogy between the great white whale and his own physical state is obvious. Charlie receives a visit from a young evangelist, Thomas (Ty Simpkins) who ostensibly is there to spread the word from the Good Book but who ends up assisting and befriending Charlie, while keeping a secret about his own background. Next in line to visit is Ellie (Sadie Sink), Charlie's estranged teenage daughter who lugs a pretty good number of plot devices in the door with her. Seems Charlie was once married but left Sadie and her mother when she was very young when he came out of the closet and lived with his lover, who is now deceased and whose memory leaves Charlie in a constant state of despair. This first plot contrivance doesn't hold up for the simple reason that Charlie and his wife and daughter all still live in the same town, so it seems unlikely they would have had no social interaction until now. Next up among the visitors is Liz (Hong Chau), a saucy, no-nonsense nurse who happens to be a personal friend of Charlie. In between looking after his endless medical needs, she lectures him about his health to little avail. Rounding out the parade of eccentric troubadours dropping in on this mini Grand Central Station is Charlie's ex-wife Mary (Samantha Morton), who discusses their mutual concerns about Ellie's rebellious nature and self-destructive tendencies, all of which are squarely blamed on Charlie's negligence toward her.
"The Whale" is based on Samuel D. Hunter's stage play and film looks very much like a filmed stage production. There are precious few exterior shots and the murky interior cinematography by Matthew Libatique, combined with Ron Simonsen's eerie score, results in the mood of a horror film being prevalent. Hunter's screenplay and Aronofsky's direction tip off all but the most gullible viewer that their emotions are being exploited in a naked and shameless manner. Nothing wrong with that. Chaplin did the same with the final scene of "City Lights", as the Little Tramp unveils his identity to his once-blind paramour in a scene that may be the most touching in screen history. But "The Whale" is loaded up with a lot of contrived crises. Charlie is a sympathetic figure throughout but Ellie is painted as the Cruella DeVil of the high school set, a one-note character that you try in vain to find redeeming qualities in. She even charges her own father money in order to spend time with her. Director Aronofsky has Sadie Sink go for the rafters in terms of her cruelty but we know from minute one that at some point she'll fall for young Thomas in another improbable plot twist. The actors can't be faulted. They're just following orders. The only believable character aside from Charlie is Liz the nurse and Hong Chau registers strongly in the role. The most affecting scenes are those centering on Charlie as an individual, as we watch seemingly mundane actions such as attempting to stand up evolve into "Mission: Impossible"-like scenarios. It's painful to watch Fraser, but that's the point. Regardless of the film's flaws, his performance is flawless. "The Whale" isn't the first film to portray morbidly obese people in a sympathetic fashion. Director Anne Bancroft's 1979 film "Fatso" did so through a serio-comedic lens. "The Whale", however, provides precious few reasons to smile.
Following the screening, Brendan Fraser and Stephen Colbert took to the stage to Fraser's latest standing ovation. He appeared genuinely moved and in discussion with Colbert, it became clear how grateful he is to have been cast as Charlie. The chat reinforced Fraser's image as a Mister Nice Guy and to Colbert's credit, he suppressed his comedic side and did nothing to overshadow Fraser in any way. The interview was enjoyable and insightful.
"The Whale" is a flawed film but no so flawed that it can't be recommended for those who seek a moving, if manipulative drama, as well as the performance of a lifetime by Brendan Fraser.
If
you fear losing your energy and creativity (among other things) as soon as you
enter your sixth decade, just consider John Ford, Howard Hawks, and Henry
Hathaway, and take heart.Ford worked
until age 71 (his last Western was “Cheyenne Autumn, 1964, and his final film,
“7 Women,” 1966), Hawks until 75 (“Rio Lobo,” 1971), and Hathaway until
76.Hathaway’s final Western was “Shoot
Out,” which opened on October 13, 1971, when he was 73.In the movie, Clay Lomax (Gregory Peck) is
released from prison after serving a seven-year sentence for bank robbery.Lomax’s eyes have a steely, distant glare as
he buckles on his six-shooter.“You hate
me, but there’s someone out there you hate more,” the warden guesses.“Someone” is Lomax’s former partner, Sam
Foley (James Gregory), who betrayed Clay and shot him in the back as the pair
fled with their stolen money.Clay was
captured and Sam got away.Lomax intends
to find Foley, who now lives comfortably on their loot, passing himself off as
a retired businessman. In turn, learning
that Lomax is a free man again, Foley hires three loutish gunmen to trail his
former
friend.The leader of the trio, Bobby
Jay (Robert E. Lyons), offers to kill Clay, but Foley says no; just keep an eye
on him and let me know if he comes this way.Does Foley hope that Clay will just go away?Will he try to make amends if Lomax pays a
visit?Or will he use the pistol hidden
in his desk drawer?It isn’t exactly
clear, and maybe Sam himself doesn’t know.
On
the other hand, there’s no doubt about Lomax’s lust for revenge.But first, leaving the penitentiary, he has
to stop at the railroad depot in nearby Weed City, where he has arranged to
meet a former girlfriend, a prostitute, who holds a sum of money in safekeeping
for him.The money arrives but not the
girlfriend, who died on her way from Kansas City.Instead, the woman’s now-orphaned daughter,
six-year-old Decky (Dawn Lyn), steps off the train.To claim his money, Clay has to take Decky
too.The stymied ex-convict tries to hand
the little girl off to a succession of people, without any luck.Orphaned, abandoned children are about as
welcome in the fictitious Weed City as they are in real life.
Clay
doesn’t know where to find Foley, but a mutual acquaintance, Trooper (Jeff Corey),
does.The crusty, wheelchair-bound
saloon owner agrees to divulge Sam’s current location—for $200.Bobby Jay and his friends also show up
Trooper’s establishment, keeping tabs on Clay.You’d think they’d try to draw as little attention to themselves as
possible, but they’re as stupid as they are malicious.When they provoke a fight with Lomax, he
cleans the floor with all three.The
louts later tangle with Trooper after they damage his property and refuse to
pay the abused saloon girl they spent the night with, Alma (Susan Tyrell).They murder Trooper, but the saloon-keeper
manages to disclose Foley’s whereabouts before he dies.Lomax heads out to find his quarry, several
days’ ride away in Gun Hill, with Decky in tow.Along the way, having bonded after a gruff start, they find shelter from
a rainstorm at a ranch owned by a lonely widow, Juliana (Pat Quinn).Juliana’s ranch hands are away in town for
the night, giving her and Clay a chance to strike up a romance.But the isolation also puts Juliana, her
young son, Lomax, and Decky in danger when the volatile Bobby Jay and his
friends turn up and invade her house.
“Shoot
Out” was produced by Hal B. Wallis and written by Marguerite Roberts.Both had collaborated with Hathaway on the
wildly popular “True Grit” two years before.The three hoped to repeat that success with a similar story about a
growing attachment between a flinty old gunfighter and a spunky girl, even
costuming Dawn Lyn’s Decky in a smaller replica of Kim Darby’s outfit from “True
Grit.”But the strategy backfired when
critics measured “Shoot Out” against the 1969 Western and found it
wanting.They might have been kinder if
they had known that well-written, briskly directed, unpretentious Westerns like
“Shoot Out” were approaching the end of their shelf life in the 1970s.Ford and Hawks had become favorites of
younger critics like Peter Bogdanovich and Robin Wood, but appreciation for
Hathaway’s considerable talents lagged, and still does.
Marguerite
Roberts had worked in Hollywood for nearly as long as Hathaway.He started in the prop department in 1919 and
directed his first feature, a Zane Grey Western, in 1932.She began as a studio secretary in 1927 and
sold her first screenplay in 1934, beginning a long career as a screenwriter
that was interrupted from 1952 to 1962.During those ten years, she was blacklisted for refusing to name names
before the House Un-American Activities Committee.A scene in “Shoot Out” suggests that Roberts
retained painful emotions from the experience.Having burst into Juliana’s house, the unhinged Bobby Jay terrorizes his
hostages when he proposes to display his marksmanship by shooting a cup off of
the widow’s son’s head.Juliana argues
the gunman out of putting her son in danger, but doesn’t resist when he orders
her to move the cup to Decky’s head instead.The credits for “Shoot Out” cite Will James’ 1926 memoir, “Lone Cowboy:
My Life Story,” as the source for Roberts’ screenplay, but the real inspiration
seems to be George Eliot’s “Silas Marner.”The sentimental 1861 novel was once the bane of 15-year-olds for whom it
was required reading in high school English classes, before it was replaced by
more contemporary fare like “Catcher in the Rye.”
A
new Blu-ray edition of “Shoot Out” from Kino Lorber Studio Classics presents
the film in a sharp hi-def transfer that looks equally attractive in its sunny
outdoor scenes, filmed in New Mexico, and in the rich, masculine red and green
lampshades and upholstery in Sam Foley’s private office.In a fine audio commentary, critic Nick
Pinkerton notes that the production punches up its standard revenge story with
the violent, sexually frank revisionist elements common in the Westerns of the
early 1970s, a trend that Hathaway himself helped pioneer with “Nevada Smith”
in 1966.Gone is the old B-Western
pretense
that saloon hostesses did no more than serve drinks and dance the can-can.Trooper’s four prostitutes are sad, alcoholic
women with impoverished pasts, who suffer physical and verbal mistreatment from
the men they solicit.If the fate of
Decky’s mother is any indication, their life expectancy from illness,
alcoholism, and exploitation will be short.The train conductor who delivers Decky to Clay’s care (played by Paul
Fix, one of several Western old-timers in the supporting cast) asks Clay how
old her mother was.“Thirty,” he
responds.“She looked fifty,” the
conductor says.“Shoot Out” was rated
“GP” (the short-lived precursor of “PG”), classifying it as suitable for
general audiences, but advising “parental guidance.”The newly instituted MPAA ratings system was
tricky to figure out.I wonder how many
parents interpreted GP to mean “bring the kids,” on the assumption that a movie
with Gregory Peck and a little girl couldn’t be any saltier than the
watered-down TV Westerns of the era.
Pinkerton
calls the subplot about the embittered gunman and the orphaned child “cloying,”
but it’s a matter of opinion.Dawn Lyn’s
role is crafted and performed with a nice balance of feistiness and vulnerability,
and she and Peck play off well against each other.Is Lomax the biological father of Decky, as
we infer from her mother placing her in his care . . . or not?The question becomes academic once each
develops a soft spot for the other.In
addition to the Nick Pinkerton commentary, the Blu-ray also includes the
theatrical trailer and previews of other 1970s Westerns from KL Studio
Classics.
Railroaded, Detour,
Caught, I Wake Up Screaming, Private Hell 36. . . Raw
Deal,and so on and so on: the titles of film noir often offer harsh
tales of dismal entrapment and victimization, and it is tempting to wonder what
audiences made of these harrowing, even unpleasurable, thrillers of inevitable male
degradation. Did these sometimes nasty films put the lie to the golden glow of
films that celebrated the American dream? Or did they confirm the seeming
possibility of that dream by allowing viewers to feel superior to the doomed
characters in these films? Placed on the double bill with generally respectable
and even uplifting “A” pictures, these programmers or downright “B”-films speak
with a cynicism and despair that might perhaps have stood in complex relation
to the positive yearnings of the Hollywood dream factory. At a tight 79-minutes,
Raw Deal is the tautest of the taut – a sharp exercise in futility and
fatalism. It excels through the sharp cinematography of the great noir
cameraman John Alton: deep focus scenes composed around diagonals from way in
the back to looming objects or bodies or faces in the foreground; low angles; and
above all, what film historian Jeremy Arnold in his rich commentary for this
Bu-ray edition of Raw Deal terms “tons of darkness with little pools of
light” (sometimes, in fact, not even pools but just a gleam or glitter
furtively trying to stick out in the inky black). Raw Deal stands apart
moreover by employment of a female voice-over (deadpan, often present-tense,
bleakness from the criminal protagonist’s world-weary moll, Pat, played by
Claire Trevor), rare in films noirs of the times. Pat’s narration shows her to
be jaded yet devoted to loser anti-hero Joe (Dennis O’Keefe) who breaks out of
the pen to get money owed him by the most evil of evil gangsters (a so-menacing
Raymond Burr). But Joe falls for the innocent Ann (Marsha Hunt), his lawyer’s
assistant whom he takes hostage, and by the film’s set of final confrontations,
both action-oriented, and romantic, all bets are off as to what moral position
will win out and who indeed will survive between venality and redemption. Pushing
violence to an extreme (especially, a fire thrown into a female face, years
before the coffee-to-the-kisser shock in Fritz Lang’s The Big Heat), Raw
Deal packs a series of dramatic and emotional wallops as overpowering as
the punches in a darkened room fight that comes virtually mid-way through the
film.
In addition to the
aforementioned commentary track by Jeremy Arnold, very insightful about the
film’s employment of expressive techniques and noir visual style to convey a
narrative of inevitable entrapment, this new Classicflix Blu-ray edition of Raw
Deal includes short featurettes on the film’s making and on actor Dennis
O’Keefe that are not very deep in historical exploration but are short enough
to be consumed easily quickly as one gives greater attention to richer
materials on the Blu-ray : that commentary track (which manages to cram in lots
of facts about the stars and extras even as it tells us so much about visual –
and also musical – style) and a nice booklet by Mann scholar Max Alvarez. There’s
an image gallery which perhaps devotes a little too much time to images from
the film itself (which, after all, is what most purchasers of the Blu-ray will
attend to, rather than just stills) although it nicely includes some of the
various poster and color ads that promoted Raw Deal.
Like so many other films,
though, and especially in the case of this one, where one might wonder what the
Hays Office might have made of the movie’s severe level of violence and
corporeal threat (as in an antler on an stuffed animal that one criminal tries
to impale another’s eye on), it is easy to lament that the extras didn’t
include Production Code files or other production documents. Jeremy Arnold and
Max Alvarez do provide valuable background in their scholarly contributions,
though, and confirm just how much Raw Deal merits close study and just
how much the downbeat world of noir overall commands our emotional and
intellectual attention as an striking and critical mode of American popular
culture.
Cinema Retro has received
the following press release. Since our magazine is edited in New Jersey, we look
forward to seeing this ultimate “Jersey Guy” documentary.
Banded Together:
The Boys From Glen Rock High
Reunite on Hometown New Jersey High School Stage
50 Years Later
You Never Know
What Those Crazy Kids May Grow Up to Be!
Feature Documentary Makes World Premiere Oct. 29th
& 30th at Montclair Film Festival;
Featuring: Lee Shapiro, Jimmy Vivino, John Feeney, Jerry Vivino, Frank
Pagano, Uncle Floyd Vivino, Doug Romoff, Jeff Venho, Joe Sielski & Conan
O'Brien.
LOS ANGELES — Oct. 21, 2022 — For Immediate Release: Having
all established high-profile careers in the music industry, eight men reunite
50 years later to jam on their high school auditorium stage in idyllic Glen
Rock, NJ, and look back on what a strange ride it’s been in Banded Together: The Boys From Glen
Rock High.
Directed, produced and edited by Academy Award-nominated
and Emmy Award-winning documentarian Barry Rubinow (Red Grooms: Sunflower in a
Hothouse, Beakman’s World), this full-length documentary is an official
selection of the Montclair Film Festival (Oct. 21-30). Moved to a bigger
theater to accommodate demand, the film will make its world premiere Saturday,
Oct. 29 at 6:30 p.m. and Sunday Oct. 30 at noon.
About Banded Together: The Boys From Glen Rock High ...
Once upon a time, in the small, Mayberry-esque town of
Glen Rock, NJ, 25 miles and a world away from New York City, a group of friends
from high school joined the music department—some commanded to do so by their
parents or in lieu of receiving detention—with adolescent dreams of making it
in “the
biz.”
From the launch pad of their garage band gatherings and
unassuming high school auditorium, each of them today—Lee Shapiro, Jimmy Vivino,
John Feeney, Jerry Vivino, Frank Pagano, Uncle Floyd Vivino, Doug Romoff and Jeff
Venho—perform at the highest levels of the music industry ... from the main
stage of the Tonight Show With Conan O’Brien (who appears in the film) to hosting
their own show to writing some of the industry’s most successful songs to performing in
arenas with such iconic artists as Frankie Valli & the Four Seasons, The
Allman Brothers, Bon Jovi, Bruce Springsteen, Donald Fagen and Jimmy Buffet, to
name a few. [short bios, pg. 2]
The remarkable story of a true band of brothers, a group
of close friends who bonded through music, reuniting for a concert in the same
auditorium where they wowed their teachers and fellow students 50 years ago.
Along the way, we learn about their individual journeys and their remarkable
successes, all heavily influenced by their time at Glen Rock High School, under
the tutelage of their beloved music teacher and bandleader, Joe Sielski.
The film explores the importance of music and arts
education for all students and is a touching testament to the value of teaching
and promoting the arts. The love and respect that these musicians have for one
another and their teachers is on full display, as well as their drive,
discipline, humor and sheer talent. Though their careers have taken them
all around the world, performing in front of thousands, there is no greater joy
than returning to the hometown stage that defined them.
Documentary, Music / Running Time: 77 Minutes / Not Rated
Featuring Lee Shapiro, Jimmy Vivino, John Feeney, Jerry
Vivino, Frank Pagano, Uncle Floyd Vivino, Doug Romoff, Jeff Venho, Joe Sielski
and Conan O’Brien.
Directed by Barry Rubinow. Produced by Barry Rubinow and Doug Romoff. Editor
Barry Rubinow. Director of Photography Patrick Cone. Production Designer Richard
Gardner.
About the Musicians ...
JIMMY VIVINO is a guitarist, keyboard player, singer,
producer and music director. He began playing in NYC clubs in the early 1980s
and started producing and arranging music for such artists as Phoebe Snow,
Laura Nyro, John Sebastian, and Donald Fagen. Blues legend Al Kooper considers
Jimmy one of his “discoveries”
and he worked as Kooper’s
musical director for 15 years. Jimmy performed with the house bands for The
Tonight Show with Conan O’Brien
as well as Late Night with Conan O’Brien.
Jimmy led the house band for the late-night program Conan called Jimmy Vivino
and the Basic Cable Band. Jimmy has recorded and played live with renowned
musicians Johnnie Johnson, Hubert Sumlin and Levon Helm.
LEE SHAPIRO is a keyboardist, arranger and music
director. He was studying at the Manhattan School of Music when he was
discovered playing at a club in New Jersey by the manager of the band, Frankie
Valli & The Four Seasons. Lee was age 19 at the time he was asked to join.
He was the arranger on the hit songs, “Who Loves You” and “Oh What a Night.” Lee also worked with Barry
Manilow on Copacabana, The Musical before starting Lee Shapiro Music, a company
that created music for the media and advertising. He also created the “must have” toys of 2000, ‘Rock N Roll Elmo’ and ‘Rock N Roll Ernie’ for Fisher-Price. Lee formed the classic rock
band The Hit Men with former Four Seasons bandmates Gerry Polci and Don
Ciccone. The band has evolved over the past 12 years and is touring with band
members who perform with the legends of classic rock.
JOHN FEENEY, principal double bass of the Orchestra of
St. Luke’s,
the American Classical Orchestra and Opera Lafayette, is a chamber musician and
soloist of international renown. John has performed as a guest bassist with the
Vienna Philharmonic. An avid Viennese violinist, in 2010 he co-founded The
Serenade Orchestra and the Serenade Quartet, performing many dozens of concerts
featuring the music of 18th and 19th century Vienna. John has recorded
extensively for most major record labels and holds bachelor and master degrees
from the Juilliard School where he was a scholarship student of David Walter.
He began his bass studies with Linda McKnight.
UNCLE FLOYD VIVINO is a legendary comedian, musician and
entertainer. He created and starred in The Uncle Floyd Show, a comedic variety
show that can be equally read as a children’s program or a parody of a children’s program. The show aired
for over two decades and featured character comedy, puppetry, audience
participation, Floyd’s
vaudevillian piano playing and a puppet sidekick named Oogie. The Uncle Floyd
Show had musical guests including such renowned performers as The Ramones, Bon
Jovi, Blue Öyster Cult, Joe Jackson and Cyndi Lauper. Uncle Floyd continues to
perform his one-of-a-kind act around various northern New Jersey venues. Check
out his
radio show every Sunday at 9 a.m. EST on WFDU-FM 89.1 and
WFDU-FM.
FRANK PAGANO is a drums and percussion musician and
teacher. He graduated from the Manhattan School of Music to go on to work with
Phoebe Snow and Concord Jazz recording artists Jackie and Roy. Frank has played
music in Broadway shows since 1985. His performing and recording credits range
from Smokey Joe’s
Cafe and Escape to Margaritaville, to Darlene Love and Bruce Springsteen and
the E Street Band. Frank is currently recording drums, percussion and vocals
with prog-rock band Renaissance. He also performs with theJon Herington Band and The Harmonious Five.
JERRY VIVINO is a multi-talented reed player who attributes
his mastering of seven woodwinds to his high school band director Joe Sielski.
After graduating in 1972 he attended Manhattan School of Music aspiring to
become a full-time musician. For 25 years he was the featured saxophonist for
Conan O’Brien
on NBC’S
Late Night, The Tonight Show and the TBS cable TV show Conan. As a sideman,
Jerry has shared the stage or recorded with the likes of Tony Bennett, Donald
Fagen, Johnny Mathis, Darlene Love, Dion DiMucci, Stanley Clark, Franki Valli,
Keely Smith, The Allman Brothers, Bon Jovi and Bruce Springsteen to name a few.
Jerry also performs with his brother Floyd’s The Uncle Floyd Show, brother Jimmy’s Blues Revue and as a
leader with his own jazz quartet.
DOUG ROMOFF is a professional bassist, entrepreneur and
film producer. He performed music in many Broadway shows as well as movie
scores and commercial jingles. Doug founded Harmony 534, a full-service music
production and video editing facility with clients such as Sesame Street and
Criterion Films. Doug also founded the Paradiso Group, an advertising agency
that creates multi-media presentations, live television broadcasts and classic
TV, radio and print advertising. Doug was the executive producer and creator of
Beyond the Crush, a docu-series about wine owners in Napa Valley. He is the
co-owner and creative director for
Adrenaline Films, a creative services company with clients such as
Universal Studios and Xfinity.
JEFF VENHO attended the Juilliard School as a scholarship
trumpet performance major, graduating with a master’s degree. Jeff has performed with the NYC
Opera, the American Symphony, the Paragon Ragtime Orchestra and numerous
Broadway Shows. In addition to his freelance activities, Jeff is currently
employed as Trumpet Professor at Hofstra University and is the Winds Department
Chair at the Rudolf Steiner School in Manhattan.
About the Mentor ...
JOE SIELSKI was the music teacher and band leader at Glen
Rock High School from 1963 to 2003. In 1968, he started the orchestra program
at the school, and served on the Middle Atlantic States High School Evaluation
Committee. In 1976, Joe got his M.A. degree in conducting from Columbia
University TC. He also served as Glen Rock High School Fine Arts Department
Chairperson. Joe has been married to his wife, Carolyn, for more than 50 years.
They hosted the reunion of the Boys From Glen Rock High and Joe played/ conducted
at the reunion concert at Glen Rock High School.
About the Filmmaker ...
BARRY RUBINOW grew up in Glen Rock, New Jersey, and made
his first film in eighth grade at Glen Rock Junior/Senior High School. With
early aspirations to be a filmmaker, he moved to Los Angeles and attended the
University of Southern California’s
acclaimed school of cinema. The first documentary he edited, Red Grooms:
Sunflower in a Hothouse, was nominated for an Academy Award for Best
Documentary Short Subject. His career as a producer, director, editor and indie
filmmaker has included winning an Emmy Award for editing the CBS science show, Beakman’s World. He was also a
founding member of the Documentary Channel, which was in 25 million homes on
Dish Network and DirecTV, and ran all creative endeavors of the channel,
overseeing the branding and on-air IDs and promos. He produced over 100
episodes of the channel’s
flagship original show, DocTalk, interviewing acclaimed documentary filmmakers
from Werner Herzog to Alex Gibney to Errol Morris. Rubinow brings his unique
background and experience and love of his hometown, to this powerful project.
Though
this author has seen many Italian Westerns, for years I had avoided watching Navajo Joe because I had wrongly assumed
it was an American Western due to its star: Burt Reynolds. Happily, I
discovered that Navajo Joe is a
solidly entertaining film. Reynolds stars as the title character, out for
revenge after a gang of cutthroats massacres his tribe and scalps his wife. The
rest of the film shows Reynolds hunting down the bandits and killing them one
by one. Naturally, as this is a Spaghetti Western, Joe has a few anti-hero
traits. When the same outlaw gang begins terrorizing the town of Esperanza, Joe
dupes the townspeople into paying him to kill the gang, thus managing to profit
from an act he was intending to carry out anyway (hence the film's Italian
title A Dollar a Head). Though a
solid film produced by Dino de Laurentiis, directed by Sergio Corbucci (Django) and scored by Ennio Morricone,
Burt Reynolds often puts the movie down, stating that it could only be shown in
prisons and on airplanes to truly captive audiences that couldn't escape. Supposedly
the bad blood began when Reynolds misunderstood that he was to be working with
Sergio Leone rather than Sergio Corbucci, and vice versa Corbucci initially hoped
to cast Marlon Brando. Due to the mutual disappointment the director and his
star didn't get along terribly well. The film was shot between two of
Corbucci's other westerns, Johnny Oro
(1966) and Hellbenders (1967). The
camera work and direction for the action scenes are top notch and Reynolds
himself was said to have done his own stunts, in addition to overseeing the stunt
work on the entire film. Ennio Morricone (under the alias of Leo Nichols)
composes another good score, with the main theme being the most memorable.
The
picture quality on the Blu-ray, though not flawless, is good overall. Included
in the special features is a commentary track by the Kino Lorber Senior Vice
President of Theatrical Releasing, Gary Palmucci. In addition to the usual cast
and crew backgrounds, Palmucci also offers up some interesting insights into
running a company such as Kino Lorber and how they acquire their various
titles. The Blu-ray also comes with a trailer for Navajo Joe and other Reynolds MGM/UA action films White Lightning, Gator and Malone.
John LeMay is the author of several western non-fiction titles, among them Tall Tales and Half Truths of Billy the Kid. Click here to order from Amazon.
When
the Argentine actress Isabel Sarli passed away in June 2019 the world lost one
of the most beautiful, glamorous, and let’s be honest, sexy women in cinema.
She was a superstar, a goddess, whose twenty-seven films from 1958 to 1984 with
partner-director and frequent co-star Armando Bó caused scandal and outrage in
their home country of Argentina, and yet outside of the Spanish-speaking world
she is relatively unknown. Aside from some films making it to New York’s 42nd
Street grindhouses they did not make much of an impact, which is a great pity,
so one hopes that this book, the first about Sarli to be published in English,
will go some way towards improving the situation.
Isabel
Sarli, nicknamed Coca, a former Miss Argentina who reached the semi-finals for
Miss Universe in 1955, made her film debut swimming nude in Thunder Among
the Leaves (1958), and immediately caused a sensation. The scene is often
said to be the first glimpse of full-frontal nudity in Argentinian cinema. She
immediately became a star and embarked on a remarkable partnership (and
personal relationship) with its director Armando Bó. She was said to be the
cleanest woman in cinema, as so many of the films featured her bathing or
showering. She was also not averse to frolicking naked in snow, on sand or in
the jungle. She was Insatiable (also the name of her last film with Bó
in 1984). In what is probably their most famous film Fuego (1969), she
trysts with her lover, her housemaid and even random workmen she picks up in
the street, whilst in Fever (1972) she memorably pleasures herself
whilst fantasising about horses copulating. With other film titles in their
career like Tropical Lust (1964), Naked Temptation (1966) and Intimacies
of a Prostitute (1972), it is no wonder she was a famous sexual icon whilst
at the same time attracting a vast amount of censorship and distribution issues
at home.
As
Victoria Ruétalo makes clear in this excellent book, Sarli was not only in
front of the camera; she was heavily involved in the production of the films. After
all, it was her body that was frequently the selling point, so it only seems
right that she had an element of power and control over what was going on. The
book explores their filmography in relation to Argentinian politics, in
particular in reference to the Perón era and its emphasis on the power of the
working man. It is surely no coincidence that Sarli’s first nude swim saw her
being watched by a local worker. Frequently Sarli’s sexuality was present in
relation to the working class, juxtaposing leisure with the hard labour they
had to perform. Sometimes, as in Meat (1968) where Sarli’s character is
kidnapped by some of her fellow workforce in the meat-packing factory and
gang-raped, the working man is the enemy. These films could be challenging as well
as titillating.
Ruétalo
also looks at the problems inherent in trying to research a subject when
archives have been destroyed. There was so much government censorship within
Argentina, but sadly the records were disposed of, and the historian is left
trying to find crumbs that still reveal something about what happened.
Thankfully the book is able to present us with what she was able to locate.
Their impact on the Spanish-speaking world is also assessed. Not only did Sarli
and Bó shoot their films around South America, making the most of the
spectacular locations on offer, but they were also seen in many countries as
well as Argentina. In Feugo they even managed a short trip to shoot
scenes in New York, adding further local appeal for those grindhouse audiences.
Violated Frames: Armando Bó and Isabel Sarli's Sexploits is an
essential read for anyone interested in learning more about this fascinating
piece of World Cinema history and the fabulous icon that was Isabel Sarli.
If you are a subscriber to Amazon Prime, you already know that the service is a goldmine of retro movies and TV shows that are included in the annual subscription fee. You have probably also noticed that there are independent movie screening services that you can subscribe to for separate fees and these can be played conveniently through the Amazon Prime app. These separate streaming services are usually built around a niche such as horror films, westerns, foreign films, etc. One of the apps I recently discovered is Screenpix and for a paltry $2.99 a month, you can access a wide range of retro movies that are not included in Amazon Prime's catalog. The service gives you a 7-day free trial and is also available through Roku, Apple TV, Fire TV and Playstation. Here are just some of the titles I glimpsed in browsing through the service:
"Shout at the Devil"
"The Professionals"
"Fail Safe"
"The Innocents"
"Red River"
"Marooned"
"Bus Stop"
"To Catch a Thief"
"The Blob" (original)
"Rollerball" (original)
"To Catch a Thief"
"Stagecoach" (original)
"Born Losers"
"The African Queen"
"Return of Sabata"
"Attack on the Iron Coast"
"The Wild Angels"
"Billion Dollar Brain"
"Where's Papa?"
"Witchfinder General" (aka "The Conqueror Worm")
"Attack!"
"The 1,000 Plane Raid"
"Woman of Straw"
"House of Usher"
"The Longest Day"
Well, you get the idea. In any event, we can assure you that we have no affiliation with either Amazon, Roku or Screenpix. We pay the subscription fees just like everyone else does.Just making a recommendation to fellow retro-movie buffs about a great resource to find an eclectic catalog of great titles.
Click here to link to a Roku promo page that allows you to view and browse through the available titles.
Cinema Retro
readers probably already know about Joe Caroff’s unique contribution to James Bond and film history, but
outside of serious movie fan circles, he’s less well known. Several years ago,
former HBO producer (and CR writer) Mark Cerulli and editor Paul C. Rosen set
out to change that by putting together a documentary about his remarkable life –
growing up in the Great Depression, fighting in WWII and being part of the Mad
Men advertising scene in the 1960s and 70s. Along with way, Joe designed a
number of iconic film logos including West Side Story, 007, Rollerball, A Hard
Day’s Night, Orion Pictures and many others. If you’re expecting a Bond
documentary, this ain’t it; rather it’s a portrait of a true American success
story that delves into his troubled relationship with his father, finding the
girl of his dreams and conquering Hollywood, one brilliant logo at a time.
Also in the
cast is legendary film executive Mike Medavoy (who commissioned Joe to design
the Orion Pictures logo) and top Hollywood poster artist Dan Chapman.
"By Design:
The Joe Caroff Story" premiered last night on TCM (North America) and is now available on HBO Max.
Cinema Retro has received the following press release from Paramount Home Video:
Newly
restored in 4K Ultra HD, Elvis Presley’s beloved 1961 classic BLUE HAWAII
arrives as part of the collectible Paramount Presents line on both 4K Ultra HD
and Blu-ray™ for the first time ever November 15, 2022!
Enjoy
this rollicking Technicolor musical in ultra-crisp 4K Ultra HD with Dolby
Vision™ and HDR-10. Fully restored from the original 35mm camera negative,
BLUE HAWAIIlooks more spectacular than ever with every colorful costume and
vivid Hawaiian background brought to life. The first of three films that Elvis shot in Hawaii, BLUE
HAWAII celebrated the brand-new exotic state and features the massive hit
song “Can’t Help Falling In Love,” which was certified platinum.
For the restoration, the
original negative was scanned in 4K/16bit, however the opening title sequence
was very grainy because it originally used duped film. That sequence was
completely rebuilt using the original film elements from the Paramount
library. Brand new text overlays were created for a truly spectacular
opening sequence befitting this delightful film.
The Paramount Presents BLUE
HAWAII release includes the film on both 4K Ultra HD Blu-ray Disc™ and on
Blu-ray, as well as access to a digital copy of the film. The Blu-ray
additionally includes the original theatrical trailer and the following new
bonus content:
·Commentary
by historian James L. Neibaur
·Blue
Hawaii Photo Scrapbook—contains
high-res images from the Paramount archives, including behind-the-scenes shots
The year 1967 marked the high point of Sidney Poitier's screen
career. He starred in three highly acclaimed box office hits: "To Sir,
With Love", "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner" and "In the Heat of the
Night". The fact that Poitier did not score a Best Actor Oscar
nomination that year had less to do with societal prejudices (he had
already won an Oscar) than the fact that he was competing with himself
and split the voter's choices for his best performance. "In the Heat of
the Night" did win the Best Picture Oscar and immortalized Poitier's
performance as Virgil Tibbs, a Philadelphia detective who finds himself
assigned to assist a redneck sheriff (Rod Steiger, who did win
the Oscar that year for his performance in this film) in a town in the
deep south that has experienced a grisly unsolved murder. When Steiger's
character, resentful for having to work with a black man, refers to
Tibbs as "boy" and asks what they call him back in Philadelphia, he
replies "They call me Mister Tibbs!", thereby uttering
what would become one of the cinema's most iconic lines of dialogue. In
the film, Poitier plays Tibbs as a man of mystery. Little is unveiled
about his personal life, which adds immeasurably to his mystique. He
proves to be highly intelligent, logical and courageous, though
refreshingly, not immune from making mistakes and misjudgments. The
reaction to the movie was so good that, Hollywood being Hollywood,
United Artists became convinced that Tibbs could be brought back to star
in a "tentpole" series of crime thrillers. These have previously been released as individual Blu-ray titles by Kino Lorber and they are now available as a double feature set.
First up is the 1970 release, "The Call me MISTER Tibbs!" Aside from
Poitier's commanding presence as the same character, there is virtually
no connection between this Virgil Tibbs and the one seen in the previous
film. The screenplay by Alan Trustman, who wrote the winners "The
Thomas Crown Affair" and "Bullitt", softens the Tibbs character to the
point that he resembles one of those unthreatening TV gumshoes. When we
first see him, he is now in the San Francisco Police Department, though
Trustman doesn't provide even a single line of dialogue to explain how
he got there. He's apparently been there for some time, too, because
Tibbs has suddenly acquired a wife (Barbara McNair) and a young son and
daughter. The movie opens with the brutal murder of a call girl who
lived in a pricey apartment. Evidence points to Tibbs' old friend Logan
Sharpe (Martin Landau), a firebrand street preacher and activist who
enjoys a wide following and who is galvanizing the community to vote in a
politically controversial referendum. Sharpe professes his innocence
and Tibbs sets out to acquit him and find the real killer. The trail
quickly leads to a confusing mix of motley characters and red herrings,
among them Anthony Zerbe and Ed Asner. Poitier is never less than
impressive even when playing a watered-down version of a once gritty
character. However, his impact is diminished by the sappy screenplay
which allocates an abundance of time showing Tibbs dealing with
day-to-day family living. He flirts with his wife and offers life
lessons to his son that border on the extremes of political
incorrectness. When he catches the lad smoking, Tibbs decides to teach
the pre-teen a lesson by inviting him to join him in smoking Churchill
cigars and drinking some scotch. (Most of our dads would probably have
employed methods that were slightly more "conventional".) This domestic
gibberish reduces the character of Tibbs to a big screen version of
Brian Keith's Uncle Bill from the "Family Affair" TV series. Director
Gordon Douglas, normally very underrated, handles the pedantic script in
a pedantic manner, tossing in a few impressive action scenes including
one in which Poitier chases Zerbe on foot seemingly through half of San
Francisco in the movie's best sequence. The scenes between Poitier and
Landau bristle with fine acting but they only share a limited amount of
screen time. Quincy Jones provides a lively, funky jazz score but the
film never rises above the level of mediocrity.
Poitier returned to the screen for the last time as Virgil Tibbs in 1971
in "The Organization". Compared to the previous outing, this one is
superior on most levels. The script by James R. Webb is just as
confusing but there is a grittiness to the production and the character
of Tibbs is toughened up a bit. Thankfully, the scenes of his home life
with wife and kids are kept to a minimum. The film, well directed by Don
Medford (his final production), begins with an inspired caper in which a
group of masked men stage an audacious and elaborate infiltration of an
office building owned by some shady mob characters. They abscond with
millions in cocaine. Tibbs is assigned to the case and is shocked when
the culprits secretly approach him and admit they stole the drugs. Turns
out they are community activists who wanted to prevent the cocaine from
hitting the streets. However, they want Tibbs to know that they did not
commit a murder that occurred on the premises of the office. They claim
someone else did the dirty deed and is trying to pin it on them. Tibbs
believes their story and goes against department protocols by keeping
the information secret from his superiors while he works with the
activists to crack the case. At some point the plot became so tangled
that I gave up trying to figure out who was who and just sat back to
enjoy the mayhem. Tibbs' withholding of information from the police
department backfires on him and he ends up being suspended from the
force. Predictably, he goes rogue in order to take on organized crime
figures who are trying to get the drugs back. "The Organization" is
fairly good Seventies cop fare capped off by a lengthy action sequence
imaginatively set in a subway tunnel that is under construction. The
supporting cast is impressive and includes reliable Sheree North,
scruffy Allen Garfield and up-and-comers Raul Julia, Ron O'Neal and a
very brief appearances by Max Gail and Damon Wilson. Barbara McNair
returns as Mrs. Tibbs but her sole function is to provide attractive
window dressing. Gil Melle provides a hip jazz score.
Both films boast fine transfers but the only bonus features are the original trailers.
On the eve of the November 1963 release of TWICE TOLD
TALES, the British actor Sebastian Cabot would tell a reporter from the Copley
News Service, “They’ve been after me to do more of the horror pictures with
Vincent Price.I wouldn’t mind that a
bit, though I must say I wouldn’t want to do them exclusively.”He intimated that he and his co-star had
discussed a possible future pairing in “a light comedy” motion-picture.Alas, it was not to be; the two actors would
not work together again.Cabot, of
course, would soldier on and enjoy success as both a television personality and
a recognizable voice-over actor.Following
the passing of Boris Karloff in 1969, Vincent Price would reign as the big-screen’s
uncontested “King of Horror.” Cabot’s estimation of Price as an actor
“extremely adept” at light-comedy was incisive.Throughout his long and fabled career, Vincent Price’s on-screen
ghoulishness would nearly always be mitigated with a wry smile and twinkle in
the eye.
TWICE TOLD TALES is the second of two quickie vehicles in
which Price starred for Robert E. Kent’s Admiral Pictures, Inc. (1962-1963).For their first pairing, DIARY OF A MADMAN
(released in March 1963 and distributed through United Artists), Kent mined the
imagination of the great French short-story writer Henri-René-Albert-Guy de
Maupassant.That film’s ballyhoo
proclaimed it “The Most Terrifying Motion Picture Ever Created!” It most
certainly wasn’t, but the film still managed to be a worthwhile psychological
thriller - though one that didn’t particularly resonate at the box-office.In what was obviously an attempt to
capitalize on the low-budget but big commercial success of Roger Corman’s Edgar
Allan Poe adaptations for A.I.P, Kent quickly changed course and ambitiously turned
to the short stories and novels of Nathanial Hawthorne for material.
Though a descendant of John Hathorne, the unrepentant
magistrate who presided over the fate of several innocents during Salem,
Massachusetts’s celebrated witch trials, Nathanial Hawthorne was a
romanticist:he was not prominently a
writer of mysteries or of fantastic fiction.Having said that, Hawthorne was not averse to penning a good ghost story
or two and his talent had won him the praise of contemporaries.One such fan was Edgar Allan Poe himself.In his review of Hawthorne’s two volume
collection of short stories TWICE TOLD TALES for Graham’s Magazine in May of
1842, Poe unabashedly pronounced the New Englander as “a man of truest genius…
As Americans, we feel proud of this book.”
Of course Hollywood producers have always somehow managed
to take great creative liberties with the acknowledged classics.Stories of cigar-chomping producers passing
on tracts of classic literature so their stable of writers might “give ‘em a
polish” are legion.Though Roger
Corman’s series of Poe films both successfully and artistically mined the great
man’s work for their tortured characters, grim atmosphere and elements of plot,
Corman himself rarely offered filmgoers a straight-forward re-telling of any of
the doomed author’s fabled tales.
Producer-writer, Robert E. Kent seems to have taken a
similar, albeit far less successful, approach with his production of TWICE TOLD
TALES.Only segment two of this trilogy
film, “Rappaccini’s Daughter” closely resembles Hawthorne’s original story, and
even that diverges when at odds with cinematic expectations.In “Dr. Heidegger’s Experiment,” a sinister
love-triangle between Dr. Carl Heidegger (the corpulent Sebastian Cabot), Alex
Medbourne (Price) and the recently revived but still exquisite corpse of Sylvia
Ward (Marie Blanchard) is re-engineered as to feature an original - if
salacious - back-story.This “Virgin
Spring” elixir-of-eternal-youth morality-fable plays out with little fidelity to
the original tale.
Such creative-license is stretched to the breaking point
with the film’s final episode, “The House of the Seven Gables.”This segment bears little resemblance to Hawthorne’s
celebrated novel, but it has borrowed elements from the better known – and far
more lavish – 1940 Universal film of the same title.The Universal film, perhaps not
coincidentally, also featured Vincent Price in a starring role, though this
tale too strayed far from Hawthorne’s original.Though I recall no physical blood-letting in the Hawthorne novel, in TWICE
TOLD TALES the sanguine red fluid pours freely– and mostly unconvincingly, it
must be said - from ceilings, walls, portraits, and lockets.The Pyncheon’s family’s metaphorical skeleton-in-the-closet
becomes all too real in this rather uninspired re-working.
Part of the film’s original marketing stratagem was the
offer of “FREE COFFEE in the lobby to settle your nerves!”One might suggest, with a measure of
cynicism, that such brew was a necessary component in helping to keep audiences
awake.TWICE TOLD TALES is, to be
generous, a very good ninety-minute film.The problem is that the filmmakers stretched this ninety-minute film to an
interminable two-hour running time.
This is a “sitting room” or “parlor” film; most of the
action (as it is) takes place in mildly claustrophobic confines of small home
settings with long stretches of unbroken dialogue.There are very few provocative set-pieces employed
over the course of three segments and the most ambitious of these, the deadly
and poisonous garden of Dr. Giacomo Rappaccini (Price), is only experienced in sun-soaked
broad daylight.This supposedly lethal
garden is both terribly over-lit and ill-disguised in its construction (the
seams of the faux-grass mats are clearly visible).As such this potentially visual and cinematic
garden of death portends little of its intended menace.If only love-struck suitor Giovanni Guasconti
(Brett Halsey) could have encountered the beautiful but lethal Beatrice
Rappaccini (Joyce Taylor) in a blue-swathed moonlight setting, the garden’s mysterious
atmosphere would have been instantly heightened.
Kent’s too-wordy screenplay suffers occasional patches of
purple prose, but it’s serviceable.There are a couple of great moments:Cabot’s toast of the glass prior to his experimental drinking of a fluid
that may or may not kill him (“To eternal youth, or just eternity?”).In “Rappaccini’s Daughter” we’re not sure, at
first, of who is a prisoner to whom.Is
it the estranged daughter to the father, or the father to the daughter?When all is made clear, we can better understand
the poisoned daughter’s bitter complaint, “The only difference from being dead
is that this house is bigger than a grave.”
TWICE TOLD TALES is no classic, but it’s not unworthy of
one’s time.Vincent Price is, as always,
brilliant in all three of the villainous roles he inhabits.The supporting cast is mostly great as well,
and Kent, unashamedly, brings aboard several of the familiar players who earlier
worked with Corman on the Poe series.Director
Sidney Salkow was, sadly, no auteur.Though he had been directing and writing films – and bringing them in
under or on budget -for both
independent and major studios as early as 1936, it’s clear he was most
interested in producing a satisfying checkmark in the company’s profit ledger and
not terribly concerned with film-as-art. Though Salkow’s films are never less than
competent, they’re generally pedestrian and not particularly memorable.As helmsman, Salkow simply possessed none of
Corman’s visual-style or displayed any ability to stage an impressive production
on a shoestring budget.
To be fair, Corman had advantages.His gothic films were European in design: his settings were of torch-lit gloomy and
brooding castles, of misty streets of cobblestone and black twisted tree-limbs.Two of the TWICE TOLD TALES, on the other
hand, are set in the non-atmospheric repose of 19th-century small-town
America.With the small exception of a creepy
sequence in which a thunder and lightning-storm disturbs a tomb that had been
sealed for thirty-eight years (and sits, inexplicably, just to the rear of Dr.
Heidegger’s back-door), the dressing that surrounds TWICE TOLD TALES demonstrates little
of the macabre ingredients necessary for mounting a successful horror film.
This 2022 release from
Kino-Lorber Studio Classics supplants their original 2015 Blu-ray issue of
TWICE TOLD TALES.As with its first
incarnation, the film is presented in Technicolor and in its original 1.66:1
ratio and in 1920x1080p with removable English subtitles.This new issue looks great… but no greater
than their 2015 release, quite frankly.This edition doesn’t necessarily offer a significant upgrade, if at
all.Bonus features ported over from the
first issue includes a commentary from film scholars Richard Harland Smith and
Perry Martin as well as a brief “Trailers from Hell” segment courtesy of Mick
Garris.
It seems this Kino
“Special Edition” differs only in small ways from their earlier effort.First, a “collectible” slipcover (featuring a
pair of color photographs on the reverse sleeve), replaces the two
black-and-white shots featured on the case of the original issue.The original edition featured only three
trailers in total – this new issue balloons to a generous baker’s dozen of
trailers from other Poe/Price/AIP titles offered on the Kino Studio Classics
line.On the minus side, this new
edition, somewhat oddly, offers no chapter selections – a strange omission for
a portmanteau film.An essential
purchase, I suppose – but only for those who missed out on the original 2015
pressing.
In the late 1970s and up until the mid-80s,
six-time, undefeated world karate champion Chuck Norris was making quite a name
for himself as a martial arts cinema superstar. By 1985, he would begin to tone
down the amount of karate used in his films and he soon became known simply as
an action movie hero. One of the films which helped this transition was the successful
and exciting 1986 action flick with an all-star 70s disaster movie-like cast
called The Delta Force in which he
starred as Scott McCoy. Norris then went on to make three more enjoyable films
before finally returning to the role of McCoy in 1990’s Delta Force 2.
When the brilliant, wealthy and ruthless drug
kingpin Ramon Cota (Billy Drago, Pale
Rider, 1987’s The Untouchables)
captures a group of undercover American DEA agents and makes them prisoners at his
South American drug compound where he eventually plans to execute them, Colonel
Scott McCoy (Norris) and his fearless Delta Force spring into action and attempt
to free the hostages as well as put an end to Cota’s lucrative drug cartel
before any more of its cocaine shipments can reach the United States.
Shot in the Philippines, directed by Chuck’s
brother, Aaron Norris (Braddock: Missing
in Action III), and written by Lee Reynolds (Allan Quatermain and the Lost City of Gold), Delta Force 2, which continued Chuck’s association with now legendary
film studio The Cannon Group, has, over the years, been labelled a bit of a
misstep in Chuck’s filmography. First of all, it has been said that the film
isn’t really a sequel to the original Delta
Force. It just uses the title and Chuck’s character name from the first
movie, but that’s about it. I guess that’s true. Next, the script usually comes
under fire for containing many predictable scenes/action movie clichés. These
include the overly-happy partner with the perfect (and pregnant) wife who we
just know will both meet a bad end early on as well as re-working scenes and
ideas from not only other films, but from other Norris adventures as well (part
of the plot seems to be taken from Chuck’s 1984 hit Missing in Action and there are also slightly re-worked scenes from
1987’s The Untouchables and 1979’s Moonraker). While all of this is also
true, these sequences and ideas are done with just enough variation that we let
them slide and still thoroughly enjoy the film. The man responsible for making
these scenes work is director Aaron Norris who films many well-directed and
exciting action sequences and keeps the movie engaging and fun. The last bit of
criticism this movie gets usually has to do with the acting which has been
labeled sub-par. This is just another critique I disagree with. While no one’s
performance in this film would be considered for an Academy Award (it’s not
that type of film, critics), the amazingly talented cast does very well with
the material given to them.
Of course, the main reason any
self-respecting action aficionado would spend almost two hours watching this
film is due to the presence of the man himself, Chuck Norris. What more can
really be said about Chuck? He’s low-key, likeable, sometimes humorous, yet
believably deadly when necessary. As usual, he’s perfect for this type of film
and his enormous fan base will not be disappointed.
A cinematic action hero is only as good as
his nefarious adversary and when it comes to vile villains; it’s tough to top
Billy Drago. The extremely talented Drago, who also acted alongside Chuck in
both Invasion U.S.A. and Hero and the Terror,plays amoral drug dealer Cota in a totally convincing way and,
throughout the film, exudes ice-cold, creepy evil. Drago really makes you hate
his character which works all the more once Chuck’s Colonel McCoy gets the
upper hand on him.
The impressive acting doesn’t stop there, as
the enjoyable film is loaded with even more top-notch talent. To begin with,
the always welcome John P. Ryan (It’s
Alive, Runaway Train) gives an extremely likeable and humorous performance
as a US General who just loves to kick ass. Fans of 60s and 70s cinema will be
happy to see the great Richard Jaeckel (The
Dirty Dozen, The Devil’s Brigade, Grizzly, Day of the Animals) as a
tough-as-nails DEA agent. Next up, is Paul Perri (Manhunter) as Chuck’s ill-fated partner; not to mention the highly
recognizable Mark Margolis (Scarface,
Breaking Bad) as evil General Olmedo. Last, but not least, legendary
actor/stuntman Dick Warlock (Jaws, 1981’s
Halloween II) shows up briefly (blink
and you’ll miss him) as a DEA agent on stakeout.
During filming, a helicopter crash killed
four crew members and the pilot. The movie is dedicated to their memory.
Delta Force 2 (which is also known
as Delta Force 2: The Colombian
Connection and Delta Force 2:
Operation Stranglehold)has been
released on a region one Blu-ray by Kino Lorber and is presented in its
original 1.85:1 aspect ratio. The beautiful HD transfer boasts sharp, crystal
clear images as well as just as clear audio. Other than the original theatrical
trailer along with trailers for Chuck’s extremely entertaining actioners An Eye for an Eye and Hero and the Terror (which are both available
on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber), the disc contains no special features. However, if
you’re in the mood to sit back, relax, not think too hard and just watch our
man Chuck almost singlehandedly mop up the floor with the bad guys, then Delta Force 2 certainly delivers the
goods.
In his collection of 1997, Who the Devil Made It?: Conversations with Legendary Film Directors,
Peter Bogdanovich, trumpeted that no one in the film industry, “had ever made
good pictures faster or for less money than Edgar Ulmer.What he could do with nothing (occasionally
in the script department as well) remains an object lesson for those directors,
myself included, who complain about tight budgets and schedules.”Bogdanovich, who befriended Ulmer when the
latter was in his seventies, reminded readers the director of such gems as Detour (1945) and The Black Cat (1934) was rarely given more than six-days to shoot
any of his features.
Ulmer was an interesting character, an oft-cited ego-centric
with high aspirations and boundless energy.Indie Hollywood producers found Ulmer a dependable craftsman who made
the most of what he was given – which too often was a pittance.He occasionally made great films.To his credit, he never delivered anything
less than an efficient film.In a 2014 study,
Edgar G. Ulmer: A Filmmaker at the
Margins, biographer Noah Isenberg, conceded his on-set mission of seeking
“clear-cut answers” was futile: Ulmer’s personal and professional life was nothing
if not a bewildering “straddle [of] truth and fiction.”
Though Isenberg exhumed every interview with the director
he could find, he acknowledged one couldn’t “accept without qualification what
Ulmer himself presented as the truth when he was still alive.” According to
film historian Gary D. Rhodes, Robert Clarke, the actor/producer of Beyond the Time Barrier – one of a trio
films included here on Kino’s new Blu ray issue of the Edgar G. Ulmer Sci-Fi Collection - considered the writer-director
“something of a genius, but also a troubled, difficult person.”
Ulmer was, inarguably, partly responsible for some of his
travails.Working at Universal as an art
director and set designer in the early ‘30s, Ulmer was given the opportunity to
direct the studio’s art-deco atmospheric horror The Black Cat with Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi.But opportunities to helm future pictures for
up-market Hollywood studios were derailed.Though married, Ulmer entered into a scandalous affair with a studio script
supervisor – one already married to the nephew of Universal’s c0-founder, Carl
Laemmle.The retribution for Ulmer’s
affair-of-the-heart was his blacklisting from working at any Hollywood major.But as a filmmaker Ulmer was nothing if not
resilient.He worked for the next
thirty-odd years as a director-for-hire by independent producers and
poverty-row studios.
As Bogdanovich noted, Ulmer was an able craftsman.He was a utilitarian director, successfully
cranking out films in nearly every popular-market genre: westerns, gangster
films, mysteries, adventure yarns - even the occasional comedy.Though the film noir classic Detour might be his greatest achievement,
he is also beloved by fans of classic horror and sci-fi for a string of
engaging pictures.He never approached
films in the horror genre as toss-a-ways, stories unworthy of his talent.Though none of his subsequent horror pictures
would ever match the iconic status anointed to The Black Cat, his occasional dabbles in “fantastic films” were solid
efforts.
Some films were better than others.One especially well done was Bluebeard (1944, featuring John
Carradine).Sometimes the films were
simply off-the-charts exploitation fare as was Daughter of Dr. Jekyll (1957 with John Agar).His films tended to be, whatever their budgetary
shortcomings, memorable.This new set
from Kino offers fans a trio of his best sci-fi efforts: a well-regarded effort
and two of the last films directed before his departure from the film business.
The “pick” of the set is, arguably, Ulmer’s The Man from Planet X (1951), a very
early entry into the Silver-Age sci-fi film sweepstakes. It’s September 1950 and astronomers are
puzzled by the sudden surfacing of “a strange astronomical phenomenon” which
they describe as “Planet X.”The problem
with Planet X is that its trajectory suggests it might be on a collision course
with earth.The space craft lands
somewhere in the gloomy, foggy moors of Scotland, not too far from the ancient,
spooky watchtower where scientists Dr. Elliot and Dr. Mears (Raymond Bond and
William Schallert, respectively) and journalist Jack Lawrence (Robert Clarke) just
happen to be tracking Planet X’s path.Dr. Elliot’s daughter Enid (Margaret Field) is the unlucky first one to
come face-to-face with the Man from Planet X, describing the alien as having a
“ghastly caricature” of a human face. But now that he’s arrived on earth the
question is why he’s here – and whether he’s friend or foe.
The Man
from Planet X received a modicum of press interest in the
last months of 1950.There were reports writer-producers
Aubrey Wisberg and Jack Pollexfen’s modest Mid-Century production company was
taking on a David vs. Goliath challenge.They were, after all, competing against a Hollywood big dog studio with
their modest upstart picture.One month
prior to the start of the filming of Planet
X at Culver City’s Hal Roach Studio, Howard Hawk’s production of the iconic
‘50s sci-fi thriller The Thing was
already in mid-production at RKO.Though
tackling the same sort of space-invader subject matter, Planet X was scheduled to be shot – Ulmer-style – in six scant days
with a budget of less than $50,000.As
one Los Angeles daily noted the threadbare budget allotted “wouldn’t rate you a
thing at RKO or any other film factory.”Perhaps not, but the hasty shooting schedule ensured The Man from Planet X would hit cinema
screens long before than The Thing.
The producers of Planet
X didn’t deny they had proceeded with budgetary economic caution since -
they were two of the film’s principal investors and had a lot to lose.“As writers,” Wisberg defended to the L.A.’s Daily News, “we recognized and
anticipated the time and budget limitations in our script in advance and are
now able to cut corners on the set.”One
such frugal measure was their re-using the “standing scenery” left erected of
Ingrid Bergman’s Joan of Arc (1948)
featuring Ingrid Bergman. (Much of the background scenery and effects in the
film are comprised of impressionistic matte paintings and miniatures).
Following the film’s release, Pollexfen conceded while
the film’s script was laden with a lot of scientific jargon, there was probably
more fiction than science embroidered within.For starters, there was never a mention of exactly how far the visitor from Planet X had traveled to get his spaceship
to earth.“We did it on purpose, he
admitted.“If we had mentioned the
distance some 12-year old with a slide rule would prove we were bums.”With its tight, seventy-one minute running
time, The Man from Planet X proves to
be a very serviceable thriller.
The scenario of the second film of this collection, Beyond the Time Barrier (1960) exploitatively
springboards off the popularity of George Pal’s version of H.G. Well’s The Time Machine.The film was scripted by Arthur C. Pierce who
brought us such other 50s and 60s low-budget sci-fi fare as The Cosmic Man (1959), Invasion of the Animal People (1959) and
The Navy vs. the Night Monsters
(1966).I really wasn’t expecting much
from this film, but was surprised that, all things considered, it was actually
a pretty decent futuristic adventure.
On March 5, 1960 Major William Allison (Robert Clarke), a
research test pilot for the USAF, sets off on a jet that will straddle the
border of earth’s atmosphere and outer space.The craft accidentally strafes the speed of light, catapulting Allison
through the time barrier to the Citadel, a fortress protecting the inhabitants
from a mutant population.The non-mutant
population of the Citadel are all deaf and dumb – with the exception of the
grandfatherly supreme leader (Vladimir Sokoloff) and his belligerent Captain (Boyd
Morgan).Most of communication of the residents
of the Citadel is done telepathically – a bit of bad luck for the bewildered
test pilot trying to plot an escape.
Allison learns the year is now (gasp!) 2024.The residents are survivors of a plague
brought on by cosmic radiation from too many nuclear explosions on earth.They are also part of a dying race.There have been no newborns in the Citadel in
twenty-years since the plague left all of the men sterile.Among the last born were the supreme leader’s
granddaughter Trirene (Darlene Tompkins), a nicely-formed ingénue.There’s a sort of cockeyed plan for Trirene
to mate with Allison to promulgate the species.But that idea goes bust when double-crosses and carnage follow in the wake
of the scheming scientists and rampaging mutants.There’s also a bit of a Twilight Zone twist to keep things interesting in the end.Despite the film’s low budget, Ulmer’s
talents in art direction allows the film’s futuristic sets – all triangles,
diamond-shapes and inverted pyramids – to give the film a glossy, moneyed
appearance.
Clocking in a little more than 58 minutes, the final film
of the set, The Amazing Transparent Man
(1960), ties things up in perfunctory fashion – the running time adequate, I
suppose, to tell its slim story.In 1959
the film’s screenwriter, Jack Lewis – whose previous scripting work was mostly
of adventures and westerns – decided to try his hand at writing a
science-fiction tale.His script,
originally titled Search for a Shadow, was
initially picked–up by indie Pacific International Pictures.Ulmer was tapped to direct the film – this
time involving a master safe-cracker who is “sprung from prison by a ring of
international spies.”
The spies are seeking copious amounts of atomic material X-13
so they can develop a ray that will transform an army invisible for the purpose
of military supremacy. To that end Major
Paul Krenner (James Griffith) and Laura Matson (Marguerite Chapman) orchestrate
the escape of safe-cracker Joey Faust (Douglas Kennedy) to – under the cloak of
invisibility - break into the government’s highly protected stores of
fissionable material.Krenner is an
unlikeable sort, manipulative and cold.It’s not clear whether he’s acting on behalf of a secretive U.S. agency
or as a double-agent for a foreign power.
He’s assisted, under duress, by Dr. Peter Ulof (Ivan
Triesault), an “eminent nuclear scientist” and developer of the special X-ray
machine that turns both guinea pigs and escaped convicts invisible.Ulof is acutely aware of Krenner’s dark intentions,
but is unable to do anything about it: his reasons for dutifully assisting in the
Major’s schemes becomes evident as the film unspools.In the meantime, Faust incurs Krenner’s
ill-will by enjoying an unsanctioned - but predictable – return to bank robbery
– a side-benefit of his now being invisible.There are a few hand-to-hand combat tussles but little suspense as the
tale unfolds.The story hastily wraps
with Ulof’s breaking of the “third wall” with an earnest morality plea/request.
Lewis’s conjured invisible man/spy-ring scenario was
intriguing but not without precedent.Curt
Siodmak had already written a more successful variant of the idea for Universal
during WWII.That film, Edwin L. Marin’s
Invisible Agent (1942), didn’t cheat
on the special effects as would The
Amazing Transparent Man.Universal’s
especial effects team (including the illustrious John P. Fulton) earned an
Academy Award nomination for their work on this earlier project.The invisibility tricks as provided by
special effects supervisor Roger George in Transparent
Man are passable but not breathtaking.
To be fair, the script would undergo numerous
tweaks.Ulmer and producers John Miller
and Robert L. Madden liked the premise, but were not enamored with the script’s
original title.Lewis reportedly offered
them no fewer than twenty-three alternate titles, the filmmakers initially settling
on The Invisible Invader.But this title too was tossed when Edward L.
Cahn’s Invisible Invaders (1959, with
John Agar and John Carradine) beat them to market.Other titles were bandied about (“The
Invisible Thief,” “The Invisible Gangster”) until the whole “invisible”
campaign was dropped in favor of The
Amazing Transparent Man.Lewis’s
script called for Faust’s character to - intriguingly - cast no shadow even
when not in his invisible state.The
screenwriter contended this element was quickly – and sadly - dropped when the
filmmakers ordered him to “Take out the shadow part.The budget won’t stand all that special
effects work.”
This new Kino Lorber Blu-ray set will obviously be of
great interest to fans of Ulmer and 1950s/early 1960s vintage sci-fi.If you are a fan or collector of commentaries
in particular then this release provides you with a bonanza of them.There are no hoary hack commentators present,
these are folks who know what they’re talking about.The Man
from Planet X features no fewer than three separate commentaries featuring
the likes of Tom Weaver, David Schecter, Dr. Robert J. Kiss, Joe Dante, Gary D.
Rhodes, Richard Harland Smith and Ulmer’s Daughter Arianne Ulmer Cipes.Weaver, Schecter and Rhodes do double-duty on
Beyond the Time Barrier, with David
Del Valle going it alone on The Amazing
Transparent Man.
All three films are presented in their original
black-and-white in 1920 x 1080p with DTS audio, Planet X in 1.37:1 and Time
Barrier and Transparent Man in
1.85:1.The set also features the theatrical
trailers for all three of the films and an option for removable English
sub-titles. The films generally all look great, The Amazing Transparent Man looking a bit soft-focused in parts,
but still better than anything we’ve seen so far of this title.Totally recommended.
In a recent book review about Swedish exploitation films, Cinema Retro columnist Adrian Smith points out that in the 1960s and 1970s Sweden became "the sexy film capital of Europe." As cinematic censorship eased around the world, filmmakers were quick to capitalize on the new screen freedoms, churning out countless low-budget sexploitation films that were softcore in content but far more erotic than any previous films that had been widely shown. Pity the horny person who lived in a rural area without access to theaters that showed such fare, and were thus not part of the action. As comedian George Gobel once quipped to Johnny Carson, "I feel like the world is a tuxedo and I'm a pair of brown shoes." The profit margins on these films were impressive, as they generally cast no-name actors and filmed in locations that were both accessible and economic. Many of these films cited Sweden in the title. Why Sweden was singled out among the other Nordic countries to be a particular haven for sexual permissiveness is still a mystery but this much is certain: the public equated the Swedes with being among the most sexually liberated people on earth. Was it true that they were having more fun than most of us? I guess you'd have to consult Swedes who came of age during that era, but to quote the famous line from "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance", "When the legend becomes fact, print the legend."
Swedish sexploitation films presented many new female "stars", but most of them faded quickly. One exception was Christina Lindberg (aka Kristina Lindberg), who still has a devoted subculture of fans based on her work in sexploitation films of the 1970s. Small in stature, Lindberg nevertheless was the very definition of voluptuous. While still a teenager, she appeared in prominent photo spreads for both Playboy and Penthouse when both magazines were at the height of their influence. Lindberg quickly attracted film producers and she began appearing in erotic films. She landed her first starring role in "Maid in Sweden", released in 1971. It is a Swedish film shot in English language and top-lining Lindberg as a major new star on the exploitation film circuit, a point that was emphasized by marketing materials that thoughtfully provided her measurements: 42-21-36. The film has been jointly released on Blu-ray through Kino Lorber and Code Red, though it has been in circulation for many years on other labels.
Lindberg plays Inga, a 16 year-old high school student who lives with her parents in a rural area. She is quiet, studious and well-behaved but yearns for a bit of excitement. The opportunity comes when she receives an invitation from her older sister Greta (Monica Ekman) to stay a few days with her in Stockholm, where she works and rents an apartment. Inga makes the train journey to the big city and is greeted by her sister. However, things get uncomfortable when she finds that Greta has a live-in lover, her boyfriend Casten (Crista Ekman, Monica's real-life husband.) Inga is nervous and uncomfortable sharing such small quarters with a man she's never met before. She becomes even more uncomfortable when she witnesses the uninhibited lifestyle of Greta and Casten. They walk about in various stages of undress and think nothing of noisily making love without making much of an effort to be discreet. When Inga secretly observes them, it fuels her own sexual awakening, though not in a pleasant way. She has a nightmare in which she is being gang-raped and is saved by an older women who tries to seduce her. These scenes are extraneous to the story and are inserted simply to provide some additional kinky visuals. Feeling Inga could use some male companionship, Greta and Casten set her up for a date with a friend, Bjorn, who is 21 years-old and seems like a polite, considerate person. That changes when he gets Inga to his apartment. When she spurs his advances, he violently rapes her. In true celluloid fantasy fashion, she puts aside this crime as though her attacker made a simple social flub. She becomes infatuated with him and the two form a romantic bond. Then there is a turn for the worse when Casten tries to seduce her, thus leading to a domestic crisis that endangers her relationship with her sister. By the time Inga must return home, she has lived the equivalent of years of sexual experience all in a matter of days.
"Maid in Sweden" is by any definition a sexploitation film. It exists only to showcase varying degrees of female nudity. Christina Lindberg willingly obliges, doffing her top at every opportunity and occasionally walking about starkers. However, she doesn't bring much personality to the role, playing the part in a grim, unsmiling Wednesday Addams-like mode. The sex scenes are softcore, but push the boundaries. The film, directed by Floch Johnson, is a cut above most other sex movies of the era in that the actors are competent and there is a good deal of footage devoted to showing aspects of Stockholm. There is also a soundtrack comprised mostly of original rock songs. Lindberg would go on to make other exploitation/sexploitation films, most notably the controversial rape revenge movie "Thriller" (aka "They Call Her One-Eye"). Ultimately, she would return to school and veered away from acting to become an animal activist and environmentalist.
Code Red and Kino Lorber have provided a very good 2K transfer which probably means this is the best video version of the movie to be made available. The only bonus extras are the original trailer and a slew of other sexploitation film trailers.
"The Frisco Kid" is a gentle buddy comedy Western made in 1979 when star Gene Wilder was riding high and post-"Star Wars" Harrison Ford was a rising star. The script was not a hot property, as it had plenty of people's fingerprints on it by the time Wilder signed on to the film. Ford was a major fan of Wilder's and was eager to co-star. Seasoned veteran Robert Aldrich, best known for his macho action movies such as "The Dirty Dozen", "Flight of the Phoenix", "Ulzana's Raid" and "The Longest Yard", was signed as director. It was seemingly an odd fit but Aldrich had directed the 1963 Frank Sinatra/Dean Martin Western comedy "4 for Texas". The film finds Wilder well-cast as Avram, a somewhat bumbling rabbinical student in Poland who is chosen to travel to San Francisco to serve as the rabbi for a new order. As a reward, he is shown a photograph of the beautiful young daughter of the religious leader in the area who will become Avram's bride. The trip from Poland to California would be arduous enough in the days of the old West under any circumstance but things go particularly wrong for Avram. Upon arriving on the east coast of America, he's told the ship he had booked passage on has been significantly delayed. He befriends three men with a wagon who say they are going to San Francisco. He opts to join them but along the way they rob him and leave him penniless in the desert. A group of Mormons save him and give him money to continue his now seemingly impossible journey across a hellish landscape of deserts and other natural barriers, as well as dangerous Indian tribes. He has a chance encounter with Tommy (Harrison Ford), a low-key friendly young guy who occasionally robs banks. The two men make for an "Odd Couple" scenario as they bond in friendship. Tommy feels sorry for the hapless Avram and agrees to escort him to San Francisco. The film chronicles their adventures and misadventures along the way, some comical, others frightening.
Today's film comedies are largely defined by an abundance of cynicism, cruelty and gross-out jokes, so one is hesitant to be harsh to the bygone era of family-friendly big screen yucks that "The Frisco Kid" epitomizes. There are some genuine giggles in the film, particularly due to Wilder's fish-out-of-water reaction to American traditions and the chemistry between Wilder and Ford is genuine and enjoyable. At other times, the film is sentimental and occasionally touching, as in the scenes in which our hero rabbi risks his life to save the sacred Torah he must deliver to his synagogue. However, the script by Michael Elias and Frank Shaw is meandering and has quite a few slow spots. There is a completely extraneous sequence in which our heroes are captured by hostile Indians that employs the age-old joke of having the tribal chief actually be a sophisticated, seemingly educated man. The scene drags on forever and goes nowhere. At 2 hours, the movie is about a half-hour too long. At times it seems endless and one can only wonder if a 90 minute version wouldn't have been more enjoyable. Sometimes less is more."The Frisco Kid" isn't a bad film, but it is bloated and Robert Aldrich's direction is workman-like and uninspired. It will primarily be of interest to Harrison Ford fans as an example of the eclectic types of films he appeared in after the original "Star Wars".
The region-free Warner Archive Blu-ray looks very good indeed. The only extra is the original trailer.
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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.
Preston
Sturges’ filmmaking career in Hollywood between 1940-1944 is unparalleled. He
is often called the first “writer-director” who would helm his own screenplays
(actually this is untrue, since Charles Chaplin had been doing it since 1914,
and Orson Welles was also doing it in the early 40s), but there is no question
that Sturges became an auteur of sorts in those glorious five years. His flame
burned brightly for that short period, and then it sadly weakened and
eventually blew out.
One
of the reasons for the filmmaker’s demise was the unfortunate production of The
Great Moment, a biopic of a 19th Century dentist named Dr. William Thomas
Green Morton, who is (mostly) credited as discovering the use of ether as an
anesthetic for surgery.
Sturges,
who was known for his acerbic comedies like The Great McGinty (1940), The
Lady Eve (1941), and Sullivan’s Travels (1942), was apparently
obsessed with Morton’s story and had been working on a script as early as 1939
to be directed by Henry Hathaway. That project was shelved, and then Sturges
began his run of directing his own scripts in 1940. He resurrected the Morton biopic
on his own in 1942. It was based on the book Triumph Over Pain (1940) by
René Fülüp-Miller,
and that also became the title of Sturges’ script. The film was shot before the
making of The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek and Hail the Conquering Hero!
(both released in 1944). But Paramount, Sturges’ studio, didn’t like the Morton
biopic Sturges had made, and they took control away from the writer-director,
retitled it The Great Moment, and re-edited it. The film was finally
released two years after its production in 1944, after Miracle and Conquering
Hero. By then, Sturges had already left Paramount in disgust. The Great
Moment bombed at the box office and critics hated it. Sturges made a few
more films for other studios, but his career never regained the peak of his
earlier Paramount successes.
The
Great Moment exhibits
how Dr. Morton (Joel McCrea) discovers that ether allows him to successfully
pull a tooth from patient Eben Frost (Sturges’ stalwart character actor William
Demarest), so he develops a specially shaped bottle from which patients can
inhale the ether vapors. History has shown that Morton pulled pieces of his
“idea” from other doctors and his mentor, surgeon Professor Warren (Harry
Carey), and the story illustrates this. After Morton’s discovery, he endured
attacks to his claim, especially when he attempts to patent the process. The
medical profession is quick to condemn Morton for what they perceive as
“monetizing” the method by patenting it, even though Morton has no intention of
making a profit. He simply doesn’t want to reveal the ingredients of what’s in
the bottle. Morton and his wife, Elizabeth (Betty Field), withstand hardships
as Morton stubbornly pursues his claims in courts and even in a petition to the
president of the United States.
Doesn’t
sound like a comedy, does it? Well, it isn’t. There are humorous bits and
pieces in The Great Moment (mostly from Demarest), but the studio was
correct in determining that the film was not in keeping with the previous
“Preston Sturges Comedies.” Never mind that Sturges had likely made a good
biopic with a message about sacrifice. Paramount deleted scenes, rearranged the
narrative flow, and emphasized the few comic bits—and then they marketed the
film as if it were a Preston Sturges Comedy. It’s no wonder that
audiences were disappointed.
In
viewing The Great Moment today, one can see that it’s not a good film. It
really is “anesthesia on celluloid.” It is, as the late filmmaker Peter
Bogdanovich calls it in a supplement included on the new Kino Lorber disk, a
“mess.” The thing is, Sturges can’t be blamed for it. But for Preston Sturges
fans, it is an interesting document. We can see that there are indeed Sturges’
fingerprints all through the picture, and many of the Sturges “stock company”
are present (such as Franklin Pangborn, Porter Hall, and others). The irony and
bite that is pure Sturges is often there in the dialogue.
In
short, The Great Moment is a great failure, but one that illustrates how
Hollywood tended to squash talented auteurs who bucked the system in the 1940s
(like Sturges and Welles).
Kino
Lorber’s new Blu-ray edition looks pristine and sharp in its glorious black and
white. The disk includes the previously mentioned supplement, “Triumph Over
Pain: A Celebration of Preston Sturges,” which is a three-way Zoom call between
Tom Sturges (Preston’s son), Bogdanovich, and film historian Constantine Nasr. This
is a lot of fun and very informative (perhaps more entertaining than the
feature film!). Also of interest is a lengthy Introduction by Nasr, which goes
into the history of the problematic production. The theatrical trailers for
this and other Sturges’ releases round out the package.
The
Great Moment is
for fans of Preston Sturges, to be sure, but also for historians interested in documentation
of Hollywood’s miscalculations and bone-headed decisions when it came to
filmmakers who likely knew much more about what they were doing than the
studios behind them.
Just as the school holidays were about
to start, way back in the December of 1982, ITV began previewing their upcoming
festive slate. In amongst the sleigh-bell soundtracked shots of Morecambe &
Wise, Ted Rogers and Mike Yarwood et al, Richard Kiel grabbed a thick metal
cable and bit into it with his silver dentures. This little tit-bit was all any
of us kids could talk about in school the next day. ‘Did you see it? Moonraker’s
going to be on TV on Boxing Day!’
I can’t remember anything else about
that Christmas, only the desperate excitement in the run-up to watching the
biggest, best James Bond film ever made! And back then, it was both of those
things because we were, y’know, kids.
Moonraker was (and remains) the entry-level
kids’ Bond movie. Once you realise that the concept of a space shuttle full of
American marines armed with laser guns being fired into space is as
intelligence-insultingly absurd as the idea of a double-taking pigeon, the
lustre wears off rapidly.
And so it came to pass that over the
years, the most successful Bond movie yet released saw its reputation take an
almighty plummet, hovering at the bottom of most Bond popularity charts; an
overblown, camp nadir that even Cubby Broccoli recognised as ‘a bit too much’ (by
contrast, the next Bond adventure, For Your Eyes Only was a pointedly
earth-bound gadget-free caper based on the retrieval of what looked like a ZX
Spectrum keyboard).
Admitting that Moonraker was
one of your favourite Bond movies in the company of cineastes was a faux pas
akin to suggesting that the best Star Trek movie was the fifth one, or
that Robert De Niro never did it for you as an actor until he started making
those hilarious Meet The Parents movies.
The Daniel Craig years - in which Bond
was transformed from a smooth, quip-spouting, all-action Lothario into a
tortured, reluctant assassin, as bruised and broken on the inside as he is on
the surface - made the comic nonsense of Moonraker seem even more
ludicrous, unforgivably so.
Yet all of a sudden, Bond’s misbegotten
Star Wars cash-in has recently started to find voices of support piping
up in its defence. Quentin Tarantino and Roger Avary could have chosen from
hundreds of thousands of other movies to launch their new Video Archives
podcast, but for episode 1, out of every movie ever made they went for Moonraker.
Of the two film-makers, Avary is the
one pleading the case forthe
defence.In time-honoured tradition, he
considered it beneath his contempt when it was first released in 1979. “I was
absolutely dubious of it. I hated it.
“I’ve noticed that when I see films
that I dismissed quickly back in the day; I sometimes look at them now and I am
seeing things and appreciating things that I just wasn’t prepared for back
then.” Among those things that Avary now appreciated were Ken Adams’s beautiful
sets, John Barry’s lush score, the still-impressive special effects, Michael
Lonsdale’s cold dismissive performance, and the opening skydiving stunt, which
Avary & Tarantino both cite as one of their favourite pre-titles sequence
in the series: ‘Real people are doing this!’
Avary continued, ‘It’s a spy film, it’s
an action movie, it’s a romance, it’s a travelogue, it’s a sci-fi…it’s also a
horror film. It switches its tone constantly. It becomes whatever it needs to be
in the moment. It’s a comedy, it’s even a western at one point.’ He even
confesses to crying at the end when Jaws finally speaks.
Tarantino’s enjoyment is more
circumspect. He has little enthusiasm for Lewis Gilbert’s handling of action
scenes, especially the gondola chase. At one point he bellows, ‘Any movie that
cuts to a reaction shot of animals doing comic double-takes can never be taken
seriously under any circumstances!’
The Video Archives Moonraker reevaluation
followed on the heels of its surprise appearance in the 2021 Marvel movie Black
Widow, in which Scarlett Johansson’s superhero assassin enjoys some
much-needed downtime by watching Moonraker - a film she’s seen so often
she can recite the dialogue from memory.
Moonraker was, to Johansson’s character, what
it is to so many of us: a comfort watch (it also serves as a witty foretaste of
the rest of Black Widow; a film that ends up set aboard a colossal
airborne sky-station which our hero destroys in mid-flight).
It has also taken on an unlikely
contemporary resonance, thanks to the intergalactic antics of a new breed of
super-billionaires like Jeff Bezos, Richard Branson and - especially - Elon
Musk, who have recently been playing with their little rocket ships and all,
like Drax, clearly obsessed by the conquest of space.
Watching these space-fixated moguls,
all of them rich beyond the wealth of nations, seemingly sharing Drax’s casual
disdain for the trite pauper-concerns of mere earthlings, Moonraker’s
plot suddenly becomes targeted future-satire from the least-likely source.
Then again, it could just be something
far simpler. This new warmth towards Moonraker might well have stemmed
from the loss of Roger Moore, who became the first Bond to head to the great
casino in the sky in 2017. There has rarely been a more beloved actor, and the
shock of suddenly not having him around any more may have led many to
reconsider the legacy of someone we have now lost forever.
Moore’s Bond movies - built around his
unique presentation of the character - were unabashed entertainment. They were
designed at an eye-wateringly huge cost by some of the most talented and
dedicated artists in the industry for one simple, noble purpose: to give family
audiences a thrill ride and make them happy.
Produced for a then-staggering
$34million, Moonraker was released at a time of economic stagnation,
constant strikes, international unrest and unremitting gloom. No wonder
audiences rushed into cinemas to bask in its technicolor glamour, warm humour
and impossible silliness. No wonder its charms seem so suddenly appealing once
again.
David
Lynch’s challenging 1997 feature, Lost Highway, has had a tortured home
video release history. After an initial VHS release, and then one on DVD,
rights issues and a lack of interest by media companies prevented a Blu-ray
release in the USA for many years. Less-than-ideal quality imported Blu-ray
editions from various countries were circulated among Lynch fans and collectors.
Kino Lorber finally put out a decent Blu-ray in 2019, but it was criticized by
home video review sites and by Lynch himself as having inferior quality, as it didn’t
go through the stringent approval process to which the director was accustomed.
Cinema Retro reviewed that edition, finding it not terrible and
certainly adequate enough since it seemed that it was all that we were ever
going to get.
Now,
however, The Criterion Collection has issued a new, director-approved 4K UHD
edition that is an astonishingly gorgeous digital restoration with a new 5.1
surround DTS-HD Master Audio soundtrack and an alternate one of uncompressed
stereo. Criterion’s Lost Highway can be purchased as a 2-disk set
containing a 4K UHD disk of the film alone plus a Blu-ray disk of the film and
all the supplements, or in a single disk Blu-ray package.
Much
of what this reviewer has to say about the film itself is repeated from the
earlier 2019 review.
Lost
Highway is
a disturbing and surreal work of art from Luis Buñuel’s heir apparent,
and it’s a doozy. Lynch described the film as a “psychogenic fugue,” which is a
fancy term for a dissociative disorder. The story concerns musician Fred
Madison (Bill Pullman), who is having marriage trouble with his beautiful wife,
Renee (Patricia Arquette). An outside force seems to be watching and harassing
the couple by leaving intimate videotapes of themselves on their
doorstep. Throw in some nightmares and the appearance of a “mystery man” (the
very creepy Robert Blake) with powers that could only exist as dream logic, and
Fred eventually loses it. Suddenly he’s arrested for killing his wife. But
then—uh oh—while he’s sitting in a jail cell, he becomes… someone else.
The cops find Pete Dayton (Balthazar Getty) in Fred’s place. Puzzled, they let Pete
go, since he’s not the man they want. Now there’s a kind of alternate universe
thing going on, because Patricia Arquette now plays Alice, the mistress of the
cruel Mr. Eddy (Robert Loggia), who may in truth be a porn producer named Dick
Laurent.
Confused?
Many audience members were baffled at the time of Lost Highway’s initial
release. The picture marked the first in what might be called the “fugue
trilogy” (the other parts being Mulholland Drive and INLAND EMPIRE),
in which main characters become other people during the flow of the tales.
After a second or third viewing and examining Lynch’s narrative conceits in the
other movies, one can get a sense of what it’s all about.
And
this reviewer is not going to tell you. Just know that Lost Highway is
about a man who murders his wife, and he is unable to live with himself—or
inside his own mind—because of it. The film generates a good amount of dread,
and it is pure Lynch. It marks a transition from earlier, more
narrative-friendly pictures, to more dreamlike, experimental works of art that
defy description—other than that they are “David Lynch Films.”
Peter
Deming’s cinematography is fully exploited in Criterion’s new restoration. His
use of light and shadow is remarkable, and the bits in which Fred walks into a
dark hallway and disappears, and then later reappears from the
blackness, are canny metaphors for the themes in the movie.
As
opposed to the earlier Kino disk, Criterion has included some choice
supplements. Most notable is the 1997 feature documentary, Pretty as a
Picture: The Art of David Lynch, which served as a behind-the-scenes
“making of Lost Highway” piece as well as a look at Lynch’s career as an
artist (painting/sculpture) and filmmaker. Highway cast members and crew
are interviewed along with Lynch himself, and there are clips from earlier
films, too. An audio-only excerpt from the audiobook of Lynch and Kristine McKenna’s
biography, Room to Dream, covers the period in the mid-90s when Highway
was made. Two archival featurettes about the making of the film and
interviews with cast/crew are also welcome. The theatrical re-release trailer
rounds out the package. The booklet feature interview excerpts from the
publication Lynch on Lynch. Note that the feature film does not have
chapter breaks, in keeping with other Lynch-approved Blu-ray and DVD releases.
Lost
Highway has
become more mysterious and admirable with age, and Criterion’s new release does
the work justice. For fans of David Lynch, dark—very dark—crime dramas,
surreal cinema, and bravura filmmaking.
The 60th anniversary celebrations of the James Bond film franchise continue on Amazon Prime:
All of the feature films will be available for streaming beginning today in the USA and numerous other international markets for "a limited time", though the specifics were not provided.
"The Sound of 007" official documentary about the music from the series also begins streaming today.
"The Sound of 007: Live from the Royal Albert Hall", a telecast of the recent concert, is also available for streaming.
Cinema Memories: A People's History of Cinema-going in
1960s Britain
Melvyn Stokes, Matthew Jones & Emma Pett
Bloomsbury/
British Film Institute
Published:
March 2022
Hardback
237
pages
10
b&w illustrations
ISBN:
9781911239888
RRP:
£76
One evening in June
2016 at the Picturehouse on Piccadilly Circus, cinemagoers were transported
back fifty years, where a uniformed commissionaire made them queue outside for a
screening of One Million Years B.C. Once inside there were usherettes, a
cinema manager chain-smoking and shouting at the staff, dozens of people sporting
the best Sixties fashion, cavemen and cavewomen (cavepeople?) dragging
unwitting participants into some neanderthal roleplay (including this writer),
and even a film producer with a dollybird on his arm. After witnessing a
competition to find the next Hammer glamour star, which was interrupted by
placard-wielding feminists, the public were finally able to enter the cinema
screen. The experience did not end there though: during the film there was
constant disturbance from usherettes with torches and people fighting or
sneaking in and out of the fire exit. Once it was all over the audience stood
for the national anthem (or ran out in mock disgust). This was no ordinary
evening at the cinema, this was a fantastic event organised by Dr. Matthew
Jones of De Montfort University (the cinema manager himself, whose performance
was so convincing that the Picturehouse received complaints from the public
about his behaviour towards the usherettes), with the aim of bringing to life the
fantastic research project ‘Cultural Memory and British Cinema-going of the
1960s’.
Through
questionnaires and interviews with hundreds of people over a three-year period,
the project gathered memories of what it was like to go to the cinema in the
1960s. Given the age of participants this meant that most of the memories were
connected to recollections of childhood and adolescence, of first dates and
first sexual experiences, of happiness and occasional danger, and of community
and political awareness. This of course makes sense. When one considers cinemagoing,
in particular those favourite cinemas of one’s youth, it is the whole
experience that is thought of fondly, not just the film itself; there are the
posters outside and in the foyer, the elaborate décor, the cinema manager, the
box office, the concessions and then the screen itself, where often one came in
after the film had started. There were usherettes in uniforms armed with
torches to make sure no one was getting too carried away on the back row, or to
police single men moving too close to younger audience members. There was a
thick smoky haze, which was not affected by attempts to have a separate
non-smoking section of the auditorium, and some cinemas were art deco palaces whilst
others were literal fleapits.
This terrific book
brings together the results of this research in a non-immersive experience which
is sure to bring back memories of the reader’s own cinema memories. The book is
organised into topics, with the memories of the ‘Swinging Sixties’ both
conforming to established cultural history as well as questioning it. After
all, the Sixties were not swinging for everyone, and it often depended on
whether you lived in the north or the south. Some people do remember the films
of course, and the stars, many of whom were role models and fashion icons. In
the chapter on post-colonial audiences, such as the ‘Windrush Generation’, some
participants recall learning about English culture and behaviour by attending
the cinema. Audience memories of Hollywood are also discussed, as are those who
recalled attending European and world cinema, often in a more arthouse-type
cinema than the usual family cinema or fleapit.
This research is an
excellent reminder of the importance of the cinema experience in that
culturally-significant decade (political changes and their impacts on the
public, such as the legalisation of both abortion and homosexuality in 1967 are
discussed in reference to films such as Alfie and Victim), and it
also serves to point out just how much has changed over the last fifty years:
intermissions are rare, the smoking has thankfully gone, and popcorn has
replaced the choc ice as the snack of choice. Cinema Memories: A People's
History of Cinema-going in 1960s Britain may provoke nostalgia in some
older readers, whilst for younger readers it’s a fascinating window into an
almost lost world. Admittedly it’s not quite the same as that night out at the
cinema in 2016, but at least you are less likely to have to pretend to be a
caveman.
Kino Lorber has released a Blu-ray edition of the 1965 comedy Strange Bedfellows, which existed primarily to reunite Rock Hudson and Gina Lollobrigida, who had a box-office hit with Come September several years before. Like most of the romantic comedies of the era, there is little to separate this from a standard sitcom episode aside from the running time. Hudson plays a London-based executive on the rise who spontaneously marries a tempestuous Italian bombshell artist played by Lollobrigida. The newlyweds find their mutually insatiable sex drives are the only thing they have in common. Politically conservative Hudson is constantly at odds with his wife's liberal activism. They soon separate but after seven years, Hudson has a reason to stall the divorce proceedings he has put in place. Seems his even more conservative boss wants to promote him to be his right hand man- on the proviso that he is happily married. The contrived plot finds Hudson trying to swallow his pride and woo his wife back- despite the fact that she already has a British lover, Edward Judd.
The film ambles from one predictable, over-played scene to another, though there are some genuine laughs along the way. Hudson and Lollbrigida do have genuine chemistry on-screen and there is a very amusing supporting cast that includes Gig Young, Terry-Thomas, Arthur Haynes, Nancy Kulp, Bernard Fox and and the late, great Cinema Retro contributor Joe Sirola, who offers a very funny turn as a perverted sculptor. The most amusing aspect of the film is rather unintentional- the now laughably cliched presentation of life in England. In one scene, people can't get home because London is covered in a pea-soup like fog, an enduring legend that stemmed from the Victorian era when the city was often shrouded in pollution, not fog. Taxi drivers all speak with Cockney accents and call everyone 'guv. Ironically, only a small bit of second unit footage was even filmed in Old Blighty. The only on location footage featuring the stars is confined to a shot or two of Edward Judd and an opening scene of Rock Hudson walking along the Thames. One might ask why no additional footage of Hudson was shot on location. The answer was probably moolah. It would have cost Universal a tidy sum to deal with the logistics of shooting in the midst of a major city. So the studio reverted back to an economic model and "London" was recreated very unconvincingly on the Universal back lot. One sequence that was played for laughs has a more subtle aspect of humor to it when viewed today: Hudson reluctantly sharing a bed with Judd. (Hudson shared similar scene when he bedded down with Tony Randall in Send Me No Flowers, leading one to believe that he was probably in on the joke in the days when he was still very much in the closet.) Like most of these types of comedies, the finale features the entire cast coming together in a big chaotic scene. This time, it's Lollobrigida's scheme to scandalize London by riding through town as Lady Godvia. It's a mark of the movie's prudishness, however, that she is clad in neck-to-toe flesh colored body suit. Some scandal. The film's uninspired direction by Melvin Frank doesn't completely negate the fun of watching two genuine screen legends at the peak of their careers.
The Kino Lorber Blu-ray features a pin-sharp transfer that only makes it more obvious how much of the film relies on shoddy rear-screen projection. The disc features an informative commentary track by film historian Eddy Von Mueller and it's admirable that Kino Lorber continues to provide these tracks on movies that are routine at best. Even films that are artistic failures often have many interesting tales relevant to their production and Strange Bedfellows is no exception. There is also the original trailer and gallery of other trailers from KL featuring the two legendary stars.
"A Tattered Web" is yet another 1970s American made-for-TV movie that has found new life on Amazon Prime's streaming service. The 70s were a golden age of TV movies, then a relatively innovative concept. Popular actors and talented writers and directors would bring to the small screen countless productions, many of which have long been forgotten. However, that doesn't diminish their worth. "A Tattered Web" is an engrossing crime thriller that I either forgot existed or never knew it did. In any event, it's a compelling and unconventional crime flick. Lloyd Bridges plays Sgt. Ed Stagg, a 25 year veteran of the L.A. Police Department. Stagg has a reputation as a top-notch detective and he's by-the-book in every respect. At home, however, his life is a lot messier. Stagg's wife abandoned him and their young daughter Tina (Sallie Shockley) who he has raised to adulthood on his own. She's now married to Steve Butler (Frank Converse) a hunky blue collar worker in the oil industry. Trouble is they are living in Stagg's house and the situation is tense. Butler resents Stagg's authoritarian rules and things get worse when Stagg discovers that Steve has been having an affair with goodtime girl Louise Campbell (Anne Helm). Stagg has played the role of overprotective father to Tina since her mother left them. In doing so, he has also gone overboard, treating her as a child who can't cope with bad news or pressures. When Steve refuses to agree to Stagg's demands that he end the affair, Stagg takes it on himself to pay Louise a visit at her apartment.Things go badly. Louise isn't bothered by the fact she is endangering another woman's marriage and she seems quite content to continue to play the role of mistress to Steve. The argument becomes physical and Stagg pushes her, with Louise striking her head on a piece of furniture and dying from her wound. Stunned and frightened, Stagg does his best to remove any traces of his being in the apartment.
The next day, the LAPD receives news that a cleaning woman has found Louise's body. Ironically, Stagg and his partner, Sgt. Joe Marcus (Murray Hamilton) are assigned to the case. Stagg does his best to appear unaware of the circumstances of Louise's death but neighbors report she had been seeing a man regularly in her apartment. An artist's sketch makes the front pages and Marcus is all-too-aware the sketch is identical to Steve. Adding to Stagg's worries is the realization that he neglected to dispose of a drinking glass at Louise's apartment that has his fingers prints on it. Stagg finds himself trying to put out quite a few fires, all the while keeping Tina in the dark about the events. With the police closing in on Steve as a suspect, Stagg finds the opportunity to get him off the hook. A local alcoholic hobo (Broderick Crawford) has already confessed to murdering someone and has been sentenced to the death penalty. Stagg begins trying to convince him to confess to Louise's murder, as well. Stagg justifies the deception by rationalizing that if the drunk is going to die for one murder, what difference does it make if he also admits to another homicide?
Lloyd Bridges is exceptionally good as the man trying to juggle many different levels of this crisis simultaneously. He's not a villain in the traditional sense, but he is covering up his own responsibility for manslaughter and trying to frame another man for the death. The supporting cast is first-rate, with Frank Converse a standout as the much-put-upon son-in-law who becomes the prime suspect in the murder. Murray Hamilton is also very good as Stagg's partner who becomes increasingly suspicious that Stagg is covering up a crime. Broderick Crawford is truly impressive and he makes the most of his couple of brief scenes as the alcoholic whose memory is so bad that Stagg might convince him he committed a murder he is innocent of. As with most TV movies of the era, the tight 74-minute running time ensures the story moves quickly and there isn't any extraneous dialogue. "A Tattered Web" is an above average crime thriller.
One criticism that has never been used to describe the James Bond films is that they are corny. That may not be the case any longer. An Illinois farm owned by diehard 007 fans happens to be the site of the world's largest corn maze and this year, they've immortalized the Bond actors in the most unique way possible. However, there is a flaw that will be fatal for Bond fans: the maze does not show George Lazenby. Can't "the other fella" ever get a break? Maybe next year they can do a sequel featuring Barry Nelson and David Niven. Click here for more.
The first African-American to direct a major film for a majorHollywood
studio was Gordon Parks, whose feature film debut "The Learning Tree"
was released in 1969. Parks may have shattered the glass ceiling but
there wasn't a tidal wave of opportunities that immediately opened for
other minority filmmakers, in part because there were so few with any
formal training in the art. One beneficiary of Parks' achievement was
Ossie Davis, who was internationally respected as a well-rounded artist.
He was a triple threat: actor, director and writer but his directing
skills had been relegated to the stage. In 1970 Davis co-wrote the
screenplay for and directed "Cotton Comes to Harlem", a major production
for United Artists. The film was based on a novel by African-American
writer Chester Himes and proved to be pivotal in ushering in what became
known as the Blaxploitation genre. In reality, it's debatable whether
"Cotton" really is a Blaxploitation film. While most of the major roles
are played by black actors, the term "Blaxploitation" has largely come
to symbolize the kinds of goofy, low-budget films that are fondly
remembered as guilty pleasures. However, "Cotton"- like Gordon Parks's
"Shaft" films that would follow- boasts first class production values
and top talent both in front of and behind the cameras. Regardless, the
movie had sufficient impact at the boxoffice to inspire a seemingly
endless barrage of Black-oriented American films that were all the rage
from the early to mid-1970s. The Blaxploitation fever burned briefly but
shone brightly and opened many doors for minority actors.
The film was shot when New York City was in the midst of a
precipitous decline in terms of quality of life. Crime was soaring, the
infrastructure was aging and the city itself would be on the verge of
bankruptcy a few years later. Harlem was among the hardest hit areas in
terms of the economy. The once dazzling jewel of a neighborhood had
boasted popular nightclubs, theaters and restaurants that attracted
affluent white patrons. By the mid-to-late 1960s, however, that had
changed radically. Street crimes, organized gangs and the drug culture
spread rapidly, making Harlem a very dangerous place to be. It was
foreboding enough if you were black but it was considered a "Forbidden
Zone" for most white people, who spent their money elsewhere, thus
exacerbating the decline of the neighborhoods. "Cotton Comes to Harlem"
serves as an interesting time capsule of what life was like in the area,
having been shot during this period of decline. Director Davis was
considered royalty in Harlem. Despite his success in show business, he
and his equally acclaimed wife, actress Ruby Dee, never "went
Hollywood". They stayed in the community and worked hard to improve the
environment. Thus, Davis was perfectly suited to capture the action on
the streets in a manner that played authentically on screen. Similarly,
he had a real feel for the local population. As with any major urban
area, Harlem undoubtedly had its share of amusing eccentrics and Davis
populates the movie with plenty of such characters.
The film opens with a major rally held by Rev. Deke O'Malley (Calvin
Lockhart), a local guy who made good and who is idolized by the
population of Harlem. O'Malley is a smooth-talking, charismatic con man
in the mode of the notorious Reverend Ike who uses religion as a facade
to rip off gullible followers. This time, O'Malley has launched a "Back
to Africa" campaign for which he is soliciting funds. It's based on the
absurd premise that he will be able to finance disgruntled Harlem
residents back to the land of their ancestry. The hard-working,
semi-impoverished locals end up donating $87,000 in cash but the rally
is interrupted by a daring daytime robbery. An armored car filled with
masked men armed with heavy weaponry descend upon the goings-on, loot
the cash box and take off. They are pursued by two street-wise local
cops, "Grave Digger" Jones (Godfrey Cambridge) and his partner "Coffin"
Ed Johnson (Raymond St. Jacques). Davis provides an exciting and
colorful car chase through the streets of Harlem, as the cops fail to
snag the robbers. They also discover that O'Malley has gone missing,
leading them to believe that he orchestrated the heist himself so he
could keep the proceeds raised at the rally. The plot becomes rather
convoluted, as Jones and Johnson learn that a bale of cotton has arrived
in Harlem and its somehow connected to the crime. They assume that the
stolen money has been stashed in said cotton bale, which quickly changes
hands among the most unsavory characters in the community. Getting in
on the action is a white mob boss and his goons who are also trying to
recover the cotton bale. The cotton itself is resented in Harlem because
of its historical links to slavery and by the end of the film, the bale
ends up in a stage show at the famed Apollo Theater where it is used as
a prop in a bizarre production that involves historical observations
about the black experience intermingled with a striptease act! Through
it all, Jones and Johnson doggedly chase any number of people through
the streets, engage in shoot-outs and car chases and come in and out of
contact with Rev. O'Malley, who professes his innocence about being
involved in the robbery. The Rev isn't so innocent when it comes to
other unscrupulous activities such as chronically cheating on his
long-suffering girlfriend Iris (Judy Pace) and manipulating other women
in a variety of ways.
The most delightful aspect of the film is the showcasing of some very
diverse talents of the era. Godfrey Cambridge (who made it big as a
stand-up comic) and Raymond St. Jacques enjoy considerable on-screen
chemistry even if the script deprives them of the kind of witty dialogue
that would have enhanced their scenes together. They make wisecracks
all the time and harass some less-than-savory characters but the
screenplay never truly capitalizes on Cambridge's comedic potential. The
film's most impressive performance comes from Calvin Lockhart, who
perfectly captures the traits of phony, larger-than-life "preachers".
He's all flashy good looks, gaudy outfits and narcissistic
behavior. Lockhart seems
to be having a ball playing this character and the screen ignites every
time he appears. There are some nice turns by other good character
actors including pre-"Sanford and Son" Redd Foxx, who figures in the
film's amusing "sting-in-the-tail" ending, John Anderson as the
exasperated white captain of a Harlem police station that is constantly
on the verge of being besieged by local activists, Lou Jacobi as a junk
dealer, Cleavon Little as a local eccentric, J.D. Canon as a mob hit man
and Dick Sabol as a goofy white cop who suffers humiliation from
virtually everyone (which is sort of a payback for the decades in which
black characters were routinely used as comic foils). The film has a
surprisingly contemporary feel about it, save for a few garish fashions
from the 1970s. It's also rather nostalgic to hear genuine soul music
peppered through the soundtrack in this pre-rap era. Happily, life has
not imitated art in the years since the film was released. Harlem has
been undergoing the kind of Renaissance that would have seemed
unimaginable in 1970. The old glory has come back strong and the center
of the neighorhood, 125th Street, is vibrant and thriving once again.
These societal perspectives make watching "Cotton Comes to Harlem"
enjoyable on an entirely different level than simply an amusing crime
comedy.
(The film is currently streaming on Amazon Prime.)
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 ofthe 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 9th 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.
Australia-based ViaVision's Imprint video line is taking pre-orders for a limited edition (1500) Blu-ray release of "The Avengers: The Emma Peel Collection".The set will be released on 30 November.
This set is Region-Free, which is good news for fans worldwide.
Here is the relevant information:
Number of Blu-ray
Discs
16
Rating
PG
Release Date
30
November 2022
Runtime (in
minutes)
2255
Product Code
IMP3065
Mrs.
Peel… We’re needed!
Extraordinary
crimes against the people and the state have to be avenged by agents
extraordinary. Two such people are John Steed, top professional, and his
partner, Emma Peel, talented amateur. Otherwise known as The Avengers.
With lethal bowler hat and umbrella, killer fashion and kung fu, the secret
agents investigate bizarre and colourful adventures with nonchalant efficiency,
sophistication and charm.
Whilst
every era of the long-running, enduringly popular and trend-setting British
series has its own unique style, charm and wit, it is the Emma Peel years that
have become the programme’s most iconic and recognisable, with Diana Rigg’s
portrayal of Mrs. Emma Peel ushering in a new era of excitement, fashion and
iconology, coupled with Patrick Macnee’s continuing depiction of the urbane and
sublime John Steed.
Now,
this 16-disc Blu Ray set brings together every episode from the Emma Peel era
in stunning high-definition encompassing the complete Series 4 and 5, plus a
copious collection of vintage and new Special Features celebrating this peak
era of The Avengers.
Special
Features and Technical Specs:
1080p
high-definition presentation from the original 35mm elements
Collectable
double-sided Hardbox packaging LIMITED to 1500 copies
120-page booklet
featuring essay by Dick Fiddy of the British Film Institute and Story
Information for every episode taken from the original studio files
Original ‘as
broadcast’ mono audio tracks (LPCM)
Original ‘as
broadcast’ “The Avengers in Color” opening slate on Series 5 episodes
Audio Commentary
on “The Town of No Return” by producer / writer Brian Clemens and director
Roy Ward Baker
Audio Commentary
on “The Master Minds” by writer Robert Banks Stewart
Audio Commentary
on “Dial A Deadly Number” by writer Roger Marshall
Audio Commentary
on “The Hour That Never Was” by director Gerry O’Hara
Audio Commentary
on “The House That Jack Built” by director Don Leaver
Audio Commentary
on “The Winged Avenger” by writer Richard Harris
Audio Commentary
on “Epic” by guest actor Peter Wyngarde
NEW Audio
Commentary on “The Joker” by filmmakers Sam Clemens and George Clemens
(sons of writer/producer Brian Clemens) (2022)
Audio Commentary
on “Return of The Cybernauts” by Diana Rigg’s stunt-double Cyd Child
Audio Commentary
on “Murdersville” by producer / writer Brian Clemens
Filmed
introductions to eight Series 5 episodes by producer / writer Brian
Clemens
Filmed
introduction to “The ?50,000 Breakfast” by guest actress Anneke Wills
Brief audio
recollection from guest actor Francis Matthews on filming “The Thirteenth
Hole”
“THE AVENGERS
AT 50” – Footage captured from the 50th anniversary celebration
of the series, held at Chichester University in 2011. Includes: video
message from Patrick Macnee, interviews with producer / writer Brian
Clemens, director Don Leaver (never before released), director Gerry
O’Hara (never before released), stunt co-ordinator Raymond Austin, guest
actress Carol Cleveland, guest actress Anneke Wills, writer Roger
Marshall, and Patrick Macnee’s biographer Marie Cameron
“Dame Diana Rigg
at the BFI” – 2015 on-stage interview and Q&A held at the British Film
Institute in London to celebrate 50 years of Emma Peel
“The Series Of
No Return” – audio interview with actress Elizabeth Shepherd, who was
originally cast as Emma Peel
Granada Plus
Points featuring actor Patrick Macnee, composer Laurie Johnson, writer
Roger Marshall and stunt-double Cyd Child
Bonus Series 6
episode “The Forget-Me-Knot” – Emma Peel’s final story and the
introduction of Tara King
“K Is For Kill”
– excerpt from The New Avengers episode featuring appearances by
Emma Peel
ARCHIVAL
MATERIAL
Armchair Theatre episode “The
Hothouse” starring Diana Rigg (the performance that led to Rigg’s casting
as Emma Peel in The Avengers
Chessboard
Opening Title sequence used on US broadcasts for Series 4
German and
French title sequences
Series 4 UK
Commercial Break Bumper slates
Alternative
titles / credits / end tag of select Series 4 episodes
Series 4
Commercial Break Bumpers
Production trims
from select Series 5 episodes
“The Strange
Case Of The Missing Corpse” – Series 5 teaser film
German
television interview with Patrick Macnee and Diana Rigg by Joachim
Fuchsberger
Colourisation
test footage for “Death At Bargain Prices” and “A Touch Of Brimstone”
Reconstructed
John Stamp Series 4 trailer
“They’re Back”
Trailers, Series 5 Trailer and Series 5 German Cinema Trailer
Extensive Photo
Galleries from the studio archives
1973 Interview
with Diana Rigg discussing her US sitcom Diana, and leaving The
Avengers
Original Aspect
Ratio 1.33:1, b&w / colour
Audio English
LPCM 2.0 Mono
English
subtitles for the Hard of Hearing (Series 4 & 5 episodes only)
BONUS
DISC 1: ADDITIONAL SPECIAL FEATURES
More interviews
from “THE AVENGERS AT 50” including composer Laurie Johnson, writer
and guest actor Jeremy Burnham, stunt-double Cyd Child, and a
screenwriters’ panel discussion featuring Brian Clemens, Richard Harris,
Richard Bates and Terrance Dicks
“Brian Clemens
In Conversation” – on-stage interview at the British Film Institute in
London discussing his early writing career
Extensive Photo
Gallery from The Avengers Fashion Show
Diana Rigg Photo
Gallery
BONUS
DISC 2: THE ORIGINAL EPISODES FILE
Featuring the 4
original episodes from the Cathy Gale era of the series which were remade
in Series 5: “Death Of A Great Dane”, “Don’t Look Behind You”, “Dressed To
Kill” and “The Charmers” (Standard Definition)
Audio Commentary
by writer Roger Marshall on “Death Of A Great Dane”
Audio Commentary
by actress Honor Blackman and UK presenter Paul O’Grady on “Don’t Look
Behind You”
Filmed
introduction by Patrick Macnee and Honor Blackman to “Don’t Look Behind
You”
“Tunnel Of Fear”
– a full-length, previously lost episode from Series 1, recovered in 2016
“THE AVENGERS
AT 50” – interview with Honor Blackman by Paul O’Grady
After the release of 1982’s excellent
action/drama First Blood which
featured the debut appearance of Vietnam vet (and soon-to-be action movie icon)
John Rambo (brilliantly played by Sylvester Stallone), a slew of action films
featuring war veterans as their heroes soon flooded movies theaters of 1980s
America. Along with many others, entertaining films like Missing in Action (1984), Commando
and Stand Alone (both 1985)—which
starred Chuck Norris, Arnold Schwarzenegger and Charles Durning, respectively,
as war vets who faced almost insurmountable odds, yet still saved the day—satisfied
action-starved audiences around the country. Throughout the decade, Norris returned
with two Missing in Action sequels
and so did Stallone with Rambo: First
Blood Part II (1985) and Rambo III (1988).
Although these films (with the exception of the underrated Stand Alone) are probably the most remembered of the 1980s war
vet/action film genre, Steele Justice;
a somewhat forgotten, but very enjoyable war vet/action movie,was released in 1987.
While living in California, Vietnam vet and
former cop John Steele (Martin Kove, The
Karate Kid 1, 2 & 3, Rambo: First Blood Part II), who hasn’t been able
to hold down a job since the war ended, witnesses Lee (Robert Kim, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off), his best
friend and fellow vet turned cop, being gunned down by the Vietnamese mafia.
Steele soon learns that this mafia is run by Bon Soong Kwan (Soon-Tek Oh, Missing in Action 2,Death Wish 4), a former Vietnam General
who Steele and Lee tangled with during the war. Steele now wants nothing more
than to bring Kwan to justice, but with resistance from Chief of Police Bennett
(Ronny Cox, Deliverance, 1990’s Total Recall) and not one shred of
proof, the evil Kwan is untouchable. To make matters worse, Kwan has put out a
hit on Steele’s niece, Cami (Jan Gan Boyd, Assassination),
and framed the dead Lee, making it look like he was a crooked cop. Feeling that
the war has moved from Vietnam to the States, one-man-killing-machine John
Steele loads up his deadly arsenal and, with the help of his ex-wife Tracy
(Sela Ward, TV’s Sisters, 1993’s The Fugitive) and good cop Reese (Bernie
Casey, Never Say Never Again, I’m Gonna
Git You Sucka) sets out to take Kwan down.
Written and directed by Robert Boris, who wrote
the script for Electra Glide in Blue,
Steele Justice may not be in the same
league as the films of Stallone, Norris and Schwarzenegger, but if you’re a fan
of movies of that type (and 1980s action cinema in general), the somewhat
predictable, but still mostly fun Steele
Justice won’t disappoint. Boris’s direction is solid. He competently
handles the action sequences and keeps the film moving at a fast enough pace.
He also peppers his screenplay with likeable heroes and despicable villains.
Although many of these characters as well as the situations they find
themselves in, may seem somewhat clichéd, it’s exactly what fans of 80s action
(like me) came to see; a larger-than-life, lone hero singlehandedly taking out
a gang of evil bad guys with a smile on his face. Realistic? No. Entertaining?
Yes. You pretty much know what you’re getting into just from hearing the film’s
memorable tag line: “You don’t recruit
John Steele, you unleash him.”
Over the years, I’ve heard harsh criticism of
Martin Kove’s portrayal of John Steele, but I don’t find a problem with it. Kove
is one of those actors who is always welcome in just about anything as far as
I’m concerned. Whether he is playing hero or villain, he always comes through
with his performance and makes a film that much better. He is especially good
at playing henchman and bully-type villains as well as all-American heroes like
John Steele. If I have a complaint, it’s that the usually charismatic and
humorous Kove is toned down a bit here. It’s a minor complaint, but I would
have liked to have seen a little more enjoyment in his portrayal. Besides
benefitting from a strong lead like Kove, the movie also features a wonderfully
villainous performance from the great Soon-Tek Oh, super-talented veterans
Ronny Cox and Bernie Casey convincingly playing cops, and the lovely Sela Ward
as Steele’s sometimes exasperated ex-wife.
The fun movie also features several highly recognizable
faces such as Joseph Campanella (Defiance),
Sarah Douglas (Superman II), Peter
Kwong (Big Trouble in Little China),
Al Leong (Lethal Weapon), Shannon
Tweed (No Contest) and Irene Tsu (Three the Hard Way) who all add
immensely to the film’s enjoyment.
Although the movie itself may be a bit
derivative, it’s still a well-done and entertaining action film with a solid, extremely
likeable cast. If you’re a fan of this genre, I recommend checking it out.
Steele Justice has been released on
Blu-ray from Kino Lorber. The film is presented in its original 1.85:1 aspect
ratio and, as is usually the case with KL, the HD transfer is terrific. The
disc also contains a very informative audio commentary by Martin Kove, Robert
Boris and moderator Alex Van Dyne (Eddie
Brandt’s Saturday Matinee). It’s fun to listen to them reminisce about the
film and Martin Kove talks about how he would play the role differently today.
We’re also treated to the original theatrical trailer as well as trailers for
five other exciting action films: Code of
Silence; Taffin; Murphy’s Law; The Final Option and Hard
Target.
"Kill a Dragon", a 1967 action-adventure production from United Artists, is the perfect example of kind of film I've praised many times before. Namely, it's a low-budget flick designed for a fast playoff (perhaps as the second feature on double bills) and a modest profit. Often, as in this case, they were marketed with terrific movie posters that often promised more sex and violence than the films delivered. Studios thrived on such mid-range fare which inevitably employed actors in leading roles who would generally be playing supporting parts in more prestigious productions. They still enjoyed enough respect and name recognition to market the films successfully internationally. "Kill a Dragon" is based in an around Hong Kong and stars Jack Palance as Rick Masters (now there's a cinematic name for a hero), who is an American jack-of-all-trades who enjoys a laid-back lifestyle with his mistress, nightclub "hostess", Alizia Gur (who memorably squared off against Martine Beswick in the gypsy catfight in "From Russia with Love".) In the umpteenth Hollywood attempt to crib from the scripts of "Seven Samurai"/"The Magnificent Seven", Masters, who specializes in maritime salvage operations, is approached by peasants from an impoverished village. They inform him that recently a ship was grounded on their island and the crew deserted it because of its cargo: a gigantic load of highly volatile nitroglycerine. The peasants offer Masters a 50/50 split of the profits if he can smuggle the goods into Hong Kong and sell it on the black market. There is a catch, however. The nitro shipment is the property of Nico Patrai (Fernando Lamas), a local crime kingpin who warns the peasants to turn over the goods or have their village destroyed. Masters accepts the assignment and contacts his frequent collaborators: Vigo (Aldo Ray), who is now relegated to hosting bus excursions for tourists, Jimmy (Hans Lee), a local aspiring boxer and martial arts expert and his British manager, Ian (Don Knight). They are outnumbered and outgunned so they must use their instincts to outwit Patrai.
"Kill a Dragon" is the kind of goofy action flick that never takes itself very seriously. It opens with what is possibly the worst title song in the history of film and presents Latin heartthrob Fernando Lamas as a Hong Kong crime lord without a word of explanation as to how he managed to arrange this. The film is laden with Bond-style quips and the fight scenes are pretty limp under the direction of Michael Moore. (Obviously, not that Michael Moore.) But there is a great deal of fun to be found in the film. The Hong Kong locations adds an exotic element and cinematographer Emmanuel L. Rojas makes the most of it, capturing the hustle and bustle of the city center and the serenity of the surrounding areas very effectively. Palance gives a low-key performance (for him, at least) and minimizes his tendencies to ham it up. Lamas is a villain in the Bondian style and its a pleasure to see him and Palance in the requisite scenes in which they banter with witticisms and civility even though they have marked each other for death. An unusual and pleasurable aspect of the movie is that all of the Asian characters are played by Asian actors, a rarity in 1967 and they are presented in a dignified manner.
I don't want to overstate the merits of "Kill a Dragon", as it's the epitome of a "B" movie and nothing more. However, if one approaches it with those expectations, you may well find it as enjoyable as I did.
Kino Lorber has released the film on Blu-ray, a significant upgrade to MGM's previous burn-to-order DVD. Quality is very good and the original trailer is included along with a gallery of other action films from KL.
If cinema made us
believe anything back in the mid-twentieth century, it was that those Europeans
were getting far more sex than the rest of us. From Brigitte Bardot to Sophia
Loren, from I – a Woman to I am Curious, films from Europe were
somehow more adult, more daring and sexier. There was an “Ooh La La!” factor when
it came to European cinema, and audiences did not always differentiate between
a challenging black and white French New Wave film or a ‘commedia sexy
all'italiana’. If it came from the continent there was an assumption that you
would get to see far more than in British or Hollywood films. Post-war it was primarily
French and Italian films that dominated this market, but gradually Sweden took
the crown and Stockholm became the sexy film capital of Europe. Whereas the
sophisticated French and Italian women all wore heavy makeup and expensive
lingerie and looked glamorous and unattainable, Swedish girls seemed to be
fresher, down-to-earth and more natural. There was something of the girl next
door about them, perhaps becoming a more realistic prospect for the average man
in the audience.
Although Rickard
Gramfors is keen to point out in this excellent new collection of film posters
that Swedish cinema was not all with angst and existential anxiety, Ingmar
Bergman’s Summer With Monika in 1953 was one of the first to make the
rest of the world aware of this sexy northern European nation. This is perhaps
because it was distributed in America under the title Monika – the Story of
a Bad Girl. Swedish films increased in popularity throughout the fifties
and sixties, although it was a change in censorship law in 1971 that finally
saw Sweden become one of Europe’s most prolific hardcore pornography production
centres. The country became so synonymous
with sex that the word ‘Sweden’ would often be inserted into film titles from
other countries to spice them up, from Bob Hope’s I’ll Take Sweden to
the Italian mondo documentary Sweden Heaven and Hell (now best
remembered for the origin of the ‘Mah-na-Mah-na’ song later used in The
Muppets). This book features many such examples.
Do
You Believe in Swedish Sin? also demonstrates that it
was not all just sex: Sweden’s growing film industry also produced action
films, westerns (known as Lingonberry westerns!), horror, sword-and-sandal,
comedies and even the occasional ninja epic.
As has been remarked
upon before in Cinema Retro, the art of the film poster is not what it
used to be, and this fabulous collection from the archives of Klubb Super 8, a Swedish
vintage distribution company, shows us many great examples of just how good poster
art was. As well as Swedish posters there are also examples from around the
world, from fantastic hand-painted Italian locanda that manage to make
everything look like a gothic masterpiece to eye-catching posters from the
grindhouses of 42nd Street. This is a book that will have you seeking
out many of the fabulous-looking films covered. Fortunately for you, Klubb Super
8 have recently established a new streaming service called Cultpix, where
indeed many of these films can now be viewed at the click of a mouse, from
classics like Anita - Swedish Nymphet to sex education films such as The
Language of Love. Cultpix also has cult films from all over the world in a
range of genres, and it is growing all the time. It is a must-have subscription
for anyone looking for something a bit different from the safer options on
Netflix or Disney +.
With hundreds of
posters and written commentary in English, Do You Believe in Swedish Sin?
is an eclectic and engrossing poster collection for any serious movie buff. This
glossy hardback book will add a touch of colour and Scandinavian glamour to any
top shelf.
Although Robert Clouse will always be
remembered for directing the immortal Bruce Lee’s 1973 martial arts classic Enter the Dragon, the talented
filmmaker has quite a few more interesting movies in his filmography. Just
hearing about a small portion of the man’s work is enough to impress any film
buff. For instance, in 1970, Clouse directed the very well-done detective
mystery Darker than Amber. He also
helmed the 1974 cult classic action flick
Black Belt Jones (starring martial arts champion Jim Kelly). In 1978,
Clouse completed Bruce Lee’s fifth and final film (which was never finished due
to Lee’s unfortunate death) by writing and directing Game of Death. He then directed the great Jackie Chan in the
enjoyable 1980 actioner The Big Brawl;
a movie he also penned. While taking a break from action, Clouse took a few
stabs at the horror genre by first directing the enjoyable 1977 movie The Pack (starring the great Joe Don
Baker) as well as the fun, rats-on-the-loose feature Deadly Eyes (1982). He has also directed action film icons Cynthia
Rothrock and Bolo Yeung, and wrote the films Something Evil and Happy
Mother’s Day, Love George which went on to be directed by Steven Spielberg
and Darren McGavin, respectively.If
all this info has gotten you interested in Robert Clouse, then you’ll be happy
to hear that Golden Needles, a film
Clouse directed in 1974, was recently released on Blu-ray.
In Golden
Needles, the race is on asseven
people frantically search for a priceless Chinese statue which contains seven
needles that are guaranteed to grant the owner perfect health and vitality.
Filmed on location in Hong Kong, Golden Needles was distributed by
American International Pictures and released on July 17, 1974. Although the
movie is filled with plenty of action and adventure, it’s a tad more
lighthearted than, say, Enter the Dragon.
This entertaining film benefits from an engaging story, Clouse’s solid
direction, the Hong Kong locations, another funky ‘70s score from the legendary
Lalo Schifrin, and fun performances from the very talented cast. Besides Joe
Don Baker and Elizabeth Ashley, who are both very likeable and seem to have
some nice onscreen chemistry, we are also treated to humorous turns from Ann
Sothern and Burgess Meredith. Super cool Jim Kelly shows up and, as always,
it’s a joy to watch him kick ass. Last, but not least, as a cold-hearted
villain, Roy Chiao (best known as Lao Che from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom) is appropriately
intimidating. If you’re looking for a light, enjoyable adventure, this film
really hits the spot.
Golden Needles has been released on
Blu-ray by Kino Lorber in a widescreen (2.35:1) transfer from a brand new 2K
master, and the movie looks and sounds fantastic. The Region 1 disc also
contains the original theatrical trailer, TV spot, radio spots, an image
gallery, newly commissioned art by Vince Evans, reversible sleeve artwork and an informative audio
commentary by film historians Howard S. Berger and Chris Poggiali. Rounding out
the special features are seven terrific action movie trailers: Mr. Majestyk; Newman’s Law; Brannigan; Thunderbolt and Lightfoot; Truck Turner; The Laughing Policeman and
Revenge of the Ninja.
Godard with Belmondo and Seberg filming "Breathless".
By Joe Elliott
French director Jean-Luc Godard, who was a significant part of
the 1960s French New Wave movement, died on Tuesday at age 91. Godard was among
a handful of brilliant and innovative French filmmakers of the period that
included Louis Malle, Claude Chabrol, Eric Rohmer and Francois Truffaut. While
these young turks of the cinema viewed their work as intellectually
serious statements of their times, they did so with an air of stylish
nonchalance, off-handed humor and striking visual flair. Heavily influenced by
American movies, especially film noir of the 1940s, they, in turn, influenced
the next generation of American movie makers, among them Arthur Penn, Woody
Allen, Martin Scorsese and Quentin Tarantino.
Godard’s
“Breathless” ("À Bout de Souffle") is
probably the film for which most of us remember him best. His first feature,
it’s a witty, romantic cops and robbers picture starring Jean-Paul Belmondo and
American-born Jean Seberg as his girlfriend. “Breathless” is filled with
many memorable grace notes and startling visual signifiers, not the least of
which is the radiant young presence of Seberg herself. (Who can ever
forget the "New York Herald Tribune" sweater she wore?) According
to film critic Pauline Kael, whose early support of Godard helped create a
market for his pictures in the States, the director “saw something in the cheap
American gangster movies of his youth what French movies lacked; he poeticized
it and made it so modern (via jump cutting) that he, in turn, became the key
influence of American movies in the 60s.” In his later years, Goddard grew
more embittered and combative in his attitude and
was frequently critical of younger filmmakers. However, he never lost
his childhood love of the cinema. In a 1989 “New York Times” interview he is
quoted as saying, “I never thought I would do better
than John Ford or Orson Welles, but I thought I could perhaps do what Godard
was meant to do.”
There are two fleeting
moments in Love Story, based on author Eric Siegel’s bestselling novel
that became a publishing phenomenon,where the major social and
political issue of the day – the war in Vietnam – intrudes into a film
notorious for deflecting or displacing larger concerns of the day into
seemingly private questions of love and family. Of course, it was a common
assertion in the Sixties and Seventies that the “personal is the
political,” and Love Story could well be said to be politically
“relevant” (to use another catchphrase of the times) around questions of class
and generation as they play out in two families. But it’s certainly the case
that one would be hard-pressed in the many scenes set outdoors on college
campuses (Harvard and Radcliffe) to see any signs of antiwar protest or
leafletting or whatever: instead, outside provides a site for a couple to
frolic in the snow or toss a football back and forth in an empty stadium that
thereby becomes their own private playground.
All the more surprising,
then, that the first allusion, to militarism, comes in a very privatized inner
sanctum, a members’-only club where Oliver Barrett IV (Ryan O’Neal) comes to
spar verbally with his millionaire snob father (Ray Milland) over young Oliver’s
desire to marry a girl from across the tracks, Jenny Cavilleri (Ali MacGraw).
As they begin their conversation, Barrett Senior asks his son about what a
classmate will be doing after graduation and learns the kid is joining Army
Officer’s Training. Good, says the imperious father, to which his son replies
“Bad.” One shouldn’t perhaps make too much of this but it is a moment that
raises the question of the good or bad of fighting for one’s country,
especially when it can be so deadly. Later, in another indoors scene, young
Barrett, now a budding lawyer, tells a pal at their gym, that he's turned down
a request by his law firm to go defend a journalist beaten up by cops “in
Chicago” (he doesn’t tell his friend that he needs to stay home with Jenny,
who’s got a fatal illness). Again, the moment passes quickly but it was likely
impossible for most viewers in 1970 not to understand the reference as code for
police brutality against protestors and their journalistic advocates.
The critics generally hated Love
Story for what they imagined as its refusal to address the times. Fans
loved it, often, for that very refusal: it allowed them to cry about something
other than the real death and dying (both overseas and in the streets of the
cities back home). But even though the American Film Institute lists it as number
9 amongst all romances, we should note that this film is ultimately, like what
one could read in the papers or see in many other movies, about life abruptly
cut short.. Maybe it’s not brutal death, à la other films of the moment like,
say, The Wild Bunch or Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, but just
as these films are saying something about the violence of the times even as
they look to other times for their specific subject matter, Love Story is
marked by a fatalism that actually could be saying something resonant about
fragility of live in that historical moment. Love Story perhaps is due
for critical reconsideration, and Paramount’s careful remastering of the film
in striking Blu-ray might well help in that project.
The careful digitalization
allows the viewer to focus on visual accomplishment as much as the saccharine
story. For example, there are some impressive long-takes often with a complex
choreography between character and camera. Most noteworthy is the Blu-ray’s
careful capture of the color design for the film: a washed out look for scenes
of Cambridge and New York in winter matched to oppressive dark but
oh-so-masculine colors (browns and blacks) in the interior scenes of Oliver’s
confrontations with his father, both leavened by touches of red, from a single
lamp in the brown wood of Barrett Senior’s imperial home office to the scarlet
dresses or miniskirts that Jenny sports and that bring vitality into a story of
staid convention and oppressive rule-boundedness across class and generational
lines.
The Blu-ray combines several
new special features with ones that were available earlier in DVD editions. New
are a short discussion of the film by critic Leonard Maltin and a very brief
introduction by Ben Mankiewicz to an airing of the film on TCM. Both tend to
repeat commonplaces about the film -- sometimes the same ones, such as that the
film resonated with audiences who needed sweet emotion in a complicated
historical moment – and both go over well-known production facts, such as that
Ali MacGraw was in large part cast because she was Paramount boss Robert
Evans’s girlfriend at the time.
Carried over from the DVD are
a 14-minute documentary “Love Story: A Classic Remembered,” which goes
over much of the same ground as Maltin and Mankiewicz, and a commentary track
by director Arthur Hiller. Hiller’s narration is curious, caught between light
anecdotes (for example, Ray Milland agreeing to not wear his beloved toupee for
this film) and some sparse but useful technical discussion (for example, how
some of those impressive meandering long takes were engineered) and, fairly
unbearably, fatuous thematic commentary about how Hiller wants to make films
that say something (in this case, something about the triumph of human spirit).
Nonetheless, whatever one
thinks of it, Love Story at the very beginning of the 1970s is a key
film in American cinema history, and it is so important to have this carefully
crafted Blu-ray to commemorate it.
John Sturges’ “Last Train from Gun Hill” was released in 1959 as one ofseveral
high-profile Westerns of its era, designed to lure audiences away from
their television sets and back to their neighborhood movie theatres.Against
TV’s advantage of free programming that you could enjoy from the
leisure of your easy chair, films like “Last Train from Gun Hill,”
“Warlock,” “The Horse Soldiers,” and “The Hanging Tree” countered with
A-list stars, widescreen CinemaScope and VistaVision, Technicolor, and
sweeping outdoor locations.The
studios wagered, correctly, that viewers would welcome a change from
the predictable characters, cheap backlot sets, and drab black-and-white
photography of “Gunsmoke,” “Wagon Train,” and “Cheyenne.”The
approach was successful, sporadically continuing through the next
decade with expensive epics like “How the West Was Won” (1962), “Custer
of the West” (1967), and “MacKenna’s Gold” (1968) before it collapsed
from dwindling returns, scaled-back studio budgets, and changing popular
tastes at the end of the 1960s.
As Sturges’ movie opens, two loutish cowboys chase down, rape, and murder a young Indian woman.Although the rape and murder occur offscreen, the lead-up is viscerally terrifying.In a bizarrely poor choice of words, Bosley Crowther’s review in the New York Times referred to the murderers as “scallywags.” At least in my lexicon, scallywags aremischievous kids who make prank phone calls, not perpetrators of a horrendous sexual assault.When the pair flee in panic after realizing what they’ve done, they inadvertently leave behind a horse and saddle.The
murdered woman’s husband is Matt Morgan (Kirk Douglas), the marshal of
the nearby town of Pawley, who immediately identifies the letters “CB”
branded on the saddle.They’re
the initials of Craig Belden (Anthony Quinn), a powerful rancher who
controls Gun Hill, a community further down the railroad line.One
of the murderers was Belden’s hired hand Lee (played by Brian Hutton,
later the director of “Where Eagles Dare” and “Kelly’s Heroes”), and the
other was Belden’s son Rick (Earl Holliman).When
Morgan arrives in Gun Hill with arrest warrants, Belden first tries to
convince him to go easy by reminding him that he and Craig were once
good friends. After that doesn’t work, he resorts to intimidation.The
cowardly local marshal refuses to help Morgan, unashamedly admitting
that he fears the boss man’s wrath more than he respects the rule of
law.(I’ll leave it to you to decide if you see a similarity to recent political controversies.)The
other townspeople are chilly if not hostile, and when Morgan finally
subdues Rick and handcuffs him in a hotel room, waiting for the arrival
of the train back to Pawley, Belden surrounds the building with hisarmy of hired guns.
The only person sympathetic to Morgan is Belden’s battered girlfriend Linda (Carolyn Jones).Even she believes the determined marshal faces overwhelming odds:
“You remind me of Jimmy, a fella I used to know,” she remarks. “Stubborn as a mule.”
“Next time you see Jimmy, say hello,” Morgan answers dryly.“We seem to have a lot in common.”
“More than you know.He’s dead.”
“Last
Train from Gun Hill” originated with a story treatment by writer Les
Crutchfield, expanded by James W. Poe with an uncredited assist from
Dalton Trumbo, whom Douglas brought in to sharpen the dialogue.The exchanges between the characters, like the one quoted above, crackle with Trumbo’s signature style.Crutchfield
contributed scripts regularly to “Gunsmoke,” and “Last Train from Gun
Hill” unfolds like a traditional episode of the long-running series,
dressed up with a little more complexity, a rape-murder that would never
have passed network censorship, and a striking climactic scene that
also would have run afoul of the censors.Standing up, Morgan drives a wagon slowly down main street to meet the arriving train.Rick
stands beside him, handcuffed, with the muzzle of Morgan’s borrowed
shotgun pressed up under his chin to keep Belden and his gunmen at bay. When
Dell Comics adapted the movie as a comic book at the time of the film’s
release, it chose that scene as the cover photograph.As
far as I know, the graphic come-on of imminent shotgun mayhem didn’t
raise the ire of parents, educators, child psychologists, or media
pundits in that distant year of 1959.Back then, of course, pervasive gun violence wasn’t the social catastrophe that it is today.In 2022, the comic book would surely raise a firestorm of controversy on social media and cable news.
“Last
Train from Gun Hill” falls just short of a true classic, since the plot
mostly relies on ingredients that we’ve seen many times before in other
Westerns—the incorruptible lawman, the overbearing cattle baron, his
bullying but weak-willed son, the old friends now at cross-purposes, the
unfriendly town, the tense wait for a train—but Douglas, Quinn, and
supporting actors Carolyn Jones, Earl Holliman, Brian Hutton, and Brad
Dexter are at the top of their form, and Sturges’ no-nonsense direction
keeps the action moving at a tense pace.The
Blu-ray edition of the film from Paramount Pictures’ specialty label,
“Paramount Presents,” contains a sharp, remastered transfer, an
appreciative video feature with Leonard Maltin, and theatrical trailers.Even
though “Last Train from Gun Hill” ran frequently on local TV channels
in the 1970s and ‘80s, its visual quality there was seriously
compromised by the broadcast format.Worse, endless commercial breaks disrupted Sturges’ masterful mood of mounting tension.Revisiting
the production in its original, intended form, we may better appreciate
its merits as classic Hollywood professionalism at its finest.Highly recommended.
Film historians like to
connect Jack Arnold’s Man in the Shadow (1957) to Orson Welles’s Touch
of Evil from the same year, produced both at Universal-International by
Albert Zugsmith. Each revolves around a murder somewhere in the South or Southwest
that ensues when a rich and prejudiced gringo capitalist tries to prevent a
romance between his daughter and a Mexican man. Each involves an intrepid squared-jawed
he-man law enforcement figure investigating that murder and fightin the
obstructions of a racist megalomaniac played in both cases by Welles.
But the differences are instructive.
For instance, in Touch of Evil, the Welles figure is, like the hero, a
lawman, but in this case corrupt yet often getting the job done even as he
bends the law to do so. In Man in the Shadow, in contrast, Welles’s character
Renchler is an imperious cattleman (Virgil Renchler) whose ranch was the site
of a killing he oversaw. He’s unremittingly corrupt from beginning to end. Touch
of Evil then is about moral ambiguity – Welles’s Hank Quinlan is good cop
and bad cop rolled up into one. Man in the Shadow is more certain of its
morality: if, at the film’s beginning, Sherriff Ben Sadler (Jeff Chandler) has
a somewhat jaded attitude to his job (he clearly couldn’t care a whit about the
presumed killing of a Mexican bracero), he nonetheless pushes on in his inquiry
and stands finally for ethical uprightness against the unambiguous immorality
of Renchler. If Jeff Chandler once played Native Americans (Cochise in three
films), thus crossing or confusing racial and ethnic lines, here he is the
all-American, initially disdainful of the lowly Mexican workers but coming
ultimately to defend their rights against fascistic Anglo over-reachers.
Conversely, in Touch of Evil, the good cop, played by sculpted macho man
Charlton Heston, is himself Mexican, a casting decision that has never made
sense even as it adds to the weird fun of Welles’s film. And indeed Touch of
Evil is weird in so many ways – curious acting, baroque editing,
overwrought compositions, convoluted plot, and on and on.
Man in the Shadow in
contrast is a straightforward 80 minute programmer shot in a generally sober
style: after an initial act of excessive violence (the murder of the bracero in
the shadows), the film settles down to offer a taut and tight morality tale played
often in daylight (until a final battle that is dark in look but clear in moral
stance) and in long takes that, instead of meandering like the ones in Touch
of Evil often do, frequently remain implacably fixed on the action in order
to take in the verbal sparring of Sadler and everyone who wants to prevent him
from getting at the truth.
In this pared-down narrative
of one intrepid man against the world, Man in the Shadow is in a lineage
of other such films that came out the complex context of the 1950s. For
instance, Sadler’s casting off of his badge when virtually no one in the town
comes to his defense seems inspired by High Noon while the paranoid
atmosphere of a modern Western town where deadly realities of racial violence
are being hidden away by the villagers reminds one of John Sturges’s man-against-conspiratorial-community-nightmare,
Bad Day at Black Rock. Yet, when an Italian barber announces his
allegiance to Sherriff Sadler and explains that over in Italy, they tried to
install a dictator in the 1920s and that’s why he prefers America, we can
readily see that Man in the Shadow is going in a different direction
than the paranoid narratives of the hunted hero alone against corrupt society. The
barber is the first crack in the mindless devotion to fascistic conformity. Like,
say, the Frank Sinatra Western Johnny Concho from the year before, Man
in the Shadow ultimately shows itself devoted to the cause of liberalism as
the townsfolk convert in their convictions and come to Sadler’s defense. This
liberalism against a conspiratorial conformity takes on new relevance and
resonance in today’s fraught political context as we see the townsfolk
initially disdaining the Mexican workers as undocumented and othering them
through xenophobic stereotypes while imagining whiteness as a fundamental
decency. That the white commonfolk can evolve ideologically and overcome
prejudice might well link the progressivism of Man in the Shadow to a
key earlier film by director Jack Arnold, It Came from Outer Space,
another liberal intervention into Cold War Culture that, similarly, is all
about turning fear of the other into inter-cultural tolerance.
Filmed in CinemaScope
black-and-white (like some other programmers just around this time), Man in
the Shadow looks great on Kino Lorber’s Blu-Ray edition. The only special features
are the original trailer (which, interestingly, pinpoints Sherriff Sadler and
not Orson Welles’s seemingly respectable but fundamentally corrupt capitalist
as the “man in the shadow”) and a breathless commentary track from movie critic
Troy Howarth. To my mind, Howarth is a bit too enamored of character actors’
filmographies, enumerating at length the career and date of death for virtually
anyone from within the film’s secondary cast, but he does offer helpful
insights about the film’s genre affiliations: for example, Horwath’s perception
that violence around a seemingly alien otherness insinuating itself into arid
small towns is common to a number of Jack Arnold films enables us to see the
xenophobia at issue in both Arnold’s Westerns and science-fiction.
Long unavailable (or
available only in pan-and-scan), Man in the Shadow in Kino Lorber’s fine
Blu-Ray edition offers anew a strikingly suspenseful social-problem film that
offers a trenchant glimpse of the politics of its time.
RETRO-ACTIVE: THE BEST FROM THE CINEMA RETRO ARCHIVES
BY LEE PFEIFFER
Criterion has released a dual format Blu-ray/DVD edition of director Michael Mann's 1981 crime thriller Thief starring James Caan. It's a highly impressive film on many levels, especially when one considers this was Mann's big screen feature debut. He had previously directed the acclaimed 1979 TV movie The Jericho Mile, which was set in Folsom Prison. Mann was inspired by his interaction with the world of convicts and wrote the screenplay for Thief, which is credited as being based on author Frank Hohimer's novel The Home Invaders, but he maintains virtually none of the source material ended up on screen. The story centers on Frank (James Caan), a bitter man with a troubled past. As a child he was raised in state-run homes before being sent to jail for a petty crime. Inside prison, he committed violent acts in order to defend himself but this only resulted in lengthier jail terms. By the time he has been released, he has spent half of his life behind bars.
While in jail, Frank befriended Okla (Willie Nelson), a older man and master thief who is doing a life sentence. He becomes Frank's mentor and father figure and teaches him the tools of the trade. When Frank is finally released, he becomes a master at his craft, which is pulling off seemingly impossible heists of cash and diamonds. Before long, he has become a legend in his field. As a cover, Frank runs a major used car dealership and a small bar. However, he realizes that his luck will certainly run out at some point and he is determined to retire after making a few more high end scores. He works with a small team consisting of two confederates (James Belushi, Willam LaValley) who are also pros in gaining access to seemingly impenetrable vaults. The headstrong Frank wants to also settle down and raise a family. He makes an awkward introduction to Jessie (Tuesday Weld), an equally head strong, down-on-her luck character who nevertheless becomes smitten by him and ends up marrying him. The couple face frustration, however, when their attempts to adopt a baby are thwarted by Frank's criminal record. Frank is ultimately approached by Leo (Robert Prosky), a local crime lord who entices him to stop working independently and pull off a high profile heist for a fortune in diamonds. Frank rejects the offer but eventually he relents, though he is reluctant to work with a new partner. Leo has managed to break through Frank's cynicism by showering him with praise the benefits of his influence, which include arranging for Frank and Jessie to illegally adopt the baby they want so desperately. The lure of being able to retire after this one huge score leads Frank to go against his better judgment and he agrees to work for Leo on this one big job. The diamonds are located in a vault so secure that it would seem to be better suited for Fort Knox. In order to break in, Frank and his team must use highly sophisticated drills and other equipment that would rival the top gear used by any branch of the military. On the verge of realizing his greatest score, however, things go terribly wrong on any number of levels. Frank, seeing his world crumble around him, goes on a violent rampage of destruction and self-destruction.
Thief is a highly stylized movie that moves at a rapid clip and features one of James Caan's strongest performances. The problem, however, is that the character of Frank is so obnoxious, he is difficult to relate to. Peckinpah, Scorsese and Coppola always had a knack for making disreputable characters seem appealing, but Frank is nasty, arrogant and self-centered. This is certainly realistic, given the bitter feelings he has toward society, but the viewer never warms to him in any meaningful way. He is only sympathetic because the people he deals with are so much worse. Nevertheless, Thief is a crackling good yarn that boasts some fine performances especially by Tuesday Weld and character actor Robert Prosky, who is brilliant in a scene-stealing role. Willie Nelson's screen time is very limited but he makes effective use of his two scenes. The film features superb cinematography by Donald E. Thorin, who made his debut here as Director of Cinematography. His night sequences on the rain-slicked streets of Chicago evoke visions of neon-lit nightmare. The film features an electronic score by Tangerine Dream, the band that provided the memorable music for Willliam Friedkin's Sorcerer. Strangely, their score for that films holds up well but their work in Thief comes across as a bit monotonous and dated. The film's ultra-violent conclusion is exciting but rather cliched with Frank turning into yet another pissed- off screen hero who decides to take down all of his enemies in an orgy of shootouts and destruction. (I know it sounds petty but I can never accept such sequences when they are set in urban neighborhoods in which no one ever seems to call the police even as houses explode and machine gun fire is sprayed all over the place.). The film excels, however, in the break-in sequences which are superbly directed and feature camerawork that make the crime scene look like an attraction from Disney World, with fireworks-like sparks filling the air.
The Criterion Blu-ray transfer is superb on every level. Extras, which are carried over to the DVD, include a commentary track by Michael Mann and James Caan that was recorded in 1995. There are also fresh video interviews with both men that are rather candid. (Caan, who has worked consistently through his career, modestly says "I was rather popular at one time" in reference to his work on the film. Mann says he is still debating in his mind whether he regrets using Tangerine Dream's score.) There is also an interview with Johannes Schmoelling of the band, who discusses working with Mann to create the score. An original trailer is included as is a nicely illustrated booklet with an informative essay by film critic Nick James.
Cinema of the 1970s is primarily remembered for being a bold era in which groundbreaking films were released and the emergence of titanic new talents both on screen and behind the camera. It was an era in which sex, crime and violence were often exploited to take advantage of the new freedoms in the industry. Yet, there still remained a market for family comedies. While Disney and other major studio family fare could still prove to be profitable, there was also a subculture of low-budget films of this genre that were made by independent production companies. Some of these films were never even released in big cities but they proved popular with rural audiences, thus there were an abundance of rural themes in many of them. A good example of this is the 1978 comedy "They Went That-A-Way & That-A-Way" starring Tim Conway and Chuck McCann, working from a screenplay by Conway. I've always had sentiment towards both of these comedy stars, having grown up in the 1960s watching Conway on "McHale's Navy" and McCann hosting a kid's show. Conway was a major factor in driving the success of "McHale's Navy" and in the 1970s he would be an integral part of "The Carol Burnett Show"'s popularity. His skits with straight man Harvey Korman were often hilarious as Korman would gamely try (unsuccessfully) to prevent himself from cracking up at Conway's often improvised antics. In the 1970s, Conway also found success in Disney feature films, sometimes co-starring with another TV icon, Don Knotts.
In "That-A-Way", Conway and co-directors Stuart E. McGowan and Edward J. Montagne provide a prison comedy that introduces us to small town deputies Dewey (Conway) and Wallace (McCann). Do we have to inform you that they are totally inept? Every decision they make turns into a disaster, yet they are secretly appointed by the governor to pose as inmates at a prison camp in order to find out what happened to some stolen loot that one of the prisoners has stashed away. Their mission is to win his confidence and use the information to recover the money. The scenario is ripe for big laughs, but Conway and McCann so blatantly attempt to emulate their idols, Laurel and Hardy, that it only serves to remind us that they were inimitable in their comedic brilliance. At one point, Conway resorts to dusting off his classic sketch as an inept dentist that ran on "The Carol Burnett Show". However, without a live audience and Harvey Korman as his hapless foil who can't stop laughing, the skit falls flat as a pancake. There are a few chuckles in the scenarios of the inept duo trying to cope with living among hardened criminals, among them Lenny Montana and Richard Kiel. In fact, it's quite funny to see Montana, who played the much-feared Luca Brasi in "The Godfather" as Kiel's intimidated "yes man". There are numerous other supporting players who are fun to watch: the always-marvelous Dub Taylor as the prison warden (named Warden Warden), Reni Santoni as the inept deputy who is carrying on with his sexpot wife and the ageless Hank Worden as the con with the stash of cash. Our inept heroes stumble upon the hidden loot but they soon learn that the governor has died without informing anyone he has assigned two lawmen to pose as inmates. Thus, they are facing years in prison. They decide to break out and head to the new governor's residence where he is hosting a swanky luncheon for the Japanese ambassador (!). This gives Conway the opportunity to pose as a fellow Japanese and McCann as a geisha in one of those painful comedy bits that is cringe-inducing by today's sensibilities. The film races to a finale that manages to be chaotic without being even slightly funny.
The fact that the film was credited to two directors indicates some kind of problem or tension on the set. My guess is that Edward Montagne's contributions were minimal and I put forward as evidence that he brought several Don Knotts feature films to the screen as producer and sometimes writer and director. They have all stood the test of time and remain very funny. In any event, Montagne would not direct another feature film and he passed away in 2003. I admire Tim Conway but I've found that his comedic persona has not always aged well. As a kid, I thought his bumbling Ensign Parker on "McHale's Navy" was hilarious. I still find the show amusing but it's now in spite of Conway, not because of him. Conway's character, much like the one he plays in "That-A-Way", is not just comically inept. Rather, he seems like a man-child, someone who suffers from a mental deficiency- a four year-old boy trapped in a man's body. I have the same opinion when I watch the characters played by Jerry Lewis in his early films with Dean Martin. There is nothing remotely believable about them and they seem more pathetic than funny.
It gives me no pleasure to knock an attempt to provide wholesome family entertainment such as this. Still, a comedy isn't worth much if it isn't funny, and "That-A-Way"'s few modest pleasures don't merit a recommendation. The Kino Lorber Blu-ray looks good and provides only some TV spots and a trailer as extras.
Have you ever seen a high school yearbook from the 1940s or 1950s?
The graduates' photos make them appear to be in their mid-twenties. They look
much older at 18 or 19 than we did in our photos. That was the first thing I
noticed when I first saw director Mike Nichols' “Carnal Knowledge”
in the 1970s and was reminded of again now, with the
new 4K restoration now being shown at the Film Forum in New York City. The film traces the relationship between
former college roommates through 25 years, from the late 40s to the early 70s.
Jack Nicholson and Art Garfunkel, as roommates at Amherst College, look a
little too old to be students there. But we're eventually lulled in to
accepting them as such by the dichotomy of their personalities and their acting
abilities.
The film opens in the dark. Literally. We hear the voices of the
two roommates discussing women and sex in the dark of their dorm room. We never
see their faces until the next scene; at a college mixer where we followed
Susan (Candice Bergen) into the dance.Sandy (Art Garfunkel) is immediately attracted to her. Jonathan (Jack Nicholson)
coaches the shy, sensitive Sandy in what to do to break the ice. Seeing this
scene today made it impossible not to recall the villainous Joker grin on
Nicholson's face we would come to know well. Which works very well for the
character of Jonathan, the tough, aggressive misogynist who ends up cuckolding
his best friend and roommate.
When the film opened back in 1971 America was going through
societal changes. The Vietnam War was in full swing, and the youth of the
country were protesting. They were also embracing the sexual freedom boom. In
1969 "I Am Curious (yellow)," a Swedish erotic drama that opened
there in 1967,
made it to American shores. Nudity appeared on the Broadway stage
with "Hair" in 1968 and "Oh! Calcutta!" in 1969. Societal
mores were changing. The Sexual Revolution was in full attack mode with women
wearing miniskirts, see through shirts and hot pants. Woodstock. Flower Power.
Psychedelics. Hippies. "Foreign" films (read: obscenity to many) were
being banned in a number of states. The Generation Gap was being covered in
newspapers and news magazines. In the face of it all, never missing a beat, the
entertainment industry began to embrace counter-culture in way they never had before.
The cultural bandwagon that spawned the summer of love spread from Haight-Ashbury
to Greenwich Village, possibly in VW vans trailing
"aromatic" smoke clouds in their wake.
Jules Pfeiffer originally saw this as a play, but upon showing it
to friend Mike Nichols, was convinced it would be better made as a film. And as
a film it has grown better with age. Specifically, this reviewer's age.
Dialogue that went over my head, or that I had found both puerile and stuffy,
resonated clearer while they were dancing in my older brain. This film has a
lot to say about life and the relationships we allow ourselves to suffer
through.
Back to the film:
Sandy scores a date with Susan and the two shy virgins begin a
relationship. All the stupid, testosterone- fueled braggadocio that
rears its head in most adolescent (and collegiate) males arises like the mist
that surrounds the roommates as they walk to their dorm while Jonathan pumps
Sandy for information about his latest date with Susan. Even the shy Sandy
comes out of his shell to brag about how he got beyond the kissing stage of his
and Susan's relationship. This leads to Jonathan calling Susan and eventually
the two of them begin to sneak around behind Sandy's back.
Advancing
into Act II, sometime into the late 50s - early 60s, Sandy is married to Susan.
He meets Jonathan at an ice rink where they watch a beautiful skater (Ann-Margaret, in an Oscar-nominated performance)
from a distance and talk about, what else? Women. Jonathan's take: "You
think a girl goes for you, and you find out she's after your money or your
balls. Women today are better hung than the men."He continues to ramble, slightly to Sandy's
disgust. "It's not as easy getting laid as it used to be," Jonathan
complains, "I don't think I fuck more than a dozen new girls a year
now."
We
find Jonathan out with Bobbie, the gorgeous, redhead with the "tits"
and "ass" Jonathan's looking for in a woman. They eventually shack up together, at Bobbie's suggestion and Jonathan convinces
her to stop working. This causes the relationship to deteriorate as Bobbie
doesn't know what to do with herself all day long alone in the apartment and
Jonathan complains that the place is a pig sty. Sandy,
meanwhile, complains to Jonathan about his life with Susan: "It's funny,
Susan and I do all the right things. We undress in front of each other. We
spend fifteen minutes on foreplay. We experiment, do it in different rooms,
it's a seven-room house. We don't believe in making a ritual of it, we do it
when we feel like it. We don't feel like we have to be passionate all the time.
Sometimes it's even more fun necking," he goes on, finishes with:
"Maybe it's just not meant to be enjoyable with women you love."Jonathan replies: "Sandy, do you want to
get laid?"
No
surprise here; Sandy and Susan divorce. Sandy begins seeing Cindy (Cynthia
O'Neal), a modern, empowered, smart woman. The couples spend a lot of time
together. Things are nearing the end for Bobbie and Jonathan; he doesn't want
children and doesn't want to marry Bobbie. Before Cindy and Sandy arrive at
their apartment Jonathan and Bobbie get into a heated argument that finds
Bobbie not fully dressed in the bedroom. Things come to a head and a disturbing
end when, while at Jonathan's apartment he suggests to Sandy that they swap
women and Sandy goes along with it.
Advancing
to Act III, late 60s - early 70s, middle-aged Jonathan presents a slide show
"Ball-Busters on Parade," at his place showing the loves of his life
to a hippyish, middle-aged Sandi and Jennifer (Carol Kane), his eighteen-year-old
girlfriend. Jonathan mistakenly shows a slide of Susan, but Sandy notices.
Jonathan, showing a slide of Bobbie, "The king of the ball-busters. She
conned me into marrying her and now she's killing me with alimony." As he
continues his narration, he becomes angrier, vulgar and misogynistic. Then he
insults Jennifer and she and Sandy walk out without a word.
A
nighttime walk with the two old "friends" is the last time we see
them together. The conversation teeters between the then and now, the us and
them. Jonathan makes fun of Sandy's relationship with Jennifer. "She knows
worlds which I cannot begin to touch yet," Sandy tells him. "You give
up bad vibrations." "Sandy I love you," Jonathan retorts,
"but you're a schmuck." Sandy tells Jonathan he can find what he's
found. The last words we hear between the "friends" are Jonathan's:
"Don't make me insult you."
The
film ends with, after a time passage, Jonathan going to Louise's (Rita Moreno)
apartment. Louise is a prostitute for whom Jonathan is a regular customer.
Louise performs a monologue/dialogue that also seems to be part of their usual
routine. At one point she messes it up angering Jonathan. Obviously, it's
Jonathan's creation, and the only thing that can get him erect is to hear her compliment
his virility.
“Carnal
Knowledge” was so controversial in 1971 that, after a conviction of a theater
manager, Mr. Jenkins in Albany, Georgia for "distributing obscene
material" was upheld by the Supreme Court of Georgia, the US Supreme court
overturned the conviction: "Our own viewing of the film satisfies us that “Carnal
Knowledge” could not be found … to depict sexual conduct in a patently
offensive way. Nothing in the movie falls within … material which may
constitutionally be found … "patently offensive" … While the subject
matter of the picture is, in a broader sense, sex, and there are scenes in
which sexual conduct including "ultimate sexual acts" is to be
understood to be taking place, the camera does not focus on the bodies of the
actors at such times. There is no exhibition whatever of the actors' genitals,
lewd or otherwise, during these scenes. There are occasional scenes of nudity,
but nudity alone is not enough to make material legally obscene… Appellant's
showing of the film “Carnal Knowledge” is simply not the "public portrayal
of hardcore sexual conduct for its own sake, and for the ensuing commercial
gain" which we said was punishable…"[1]
The
film received mixed reviews. Roger Ebert called it "clearly Mike Nichols'
best film." Others were not so kind but there were more positive reviews
than negative. Vincent Canby: "a nearly ideal collaboration of directorial
and writing talents" that was "not only very funny, but in a casual
way—in the way of something observed in a half-light—more profound than much
more ambitious films."Gavin
Millar: "Though not the last word on the subject, it's still a telling and
unhysterical assault on male chauvinism; and if that's fashionable, it's not
unwelcome." "The iciest, most merciless and most repellent major (and
seriously intended) motion picture in a very long time." - Charles
Champlin. "Basically a one-note story ... The characters do not change or
learn; they do not even repeat their mistakes in very interesting ways." -
Gene Siskel. "This movie says not merely that there are some people like
these, but that this is it—that is, that this movie, in its own
satirical terms, presents a more accurate view of men and women than
conventional movies do. That may be the case, but the movie isn't
convincing." - Pauline Kael.
“Carnal
Knowledge” is sometimes referred to as a "coming of age film." But do
people actually come of age when they seem to be incapable of maturing? It's a
film that can make one examine and question the relationships in their lives.
How long does one put up with a toxic person? How bad is someone's insecurity
that they need constant, positive, reinforcement in their lives? “Carnal
Knowledge” is a great film but not necessarily a good story.
The
new 4K restoration will be running at the Film Forum in Manhattan from Sept. 2
- Sept. 8. Details on the Film Forum's website:
The year 1979 was a good one for vampires, cinematically speaking. John Badham's version of "Dracula" premiered starring Frank Langella in the film version of his Broadway hit, George Hamilton had a surprise success with the spoof "Love At First Bite" and German director Werner Herzog unveiled his remake of the classic German silent horror movie "Nosferatu: The Vampyre". The original version by director F.W. Murnau is still regarded by many as the greatest horror movie ever made. Indeed, the mere sight of the film's star Max Schreck (who was as eerie in real life as he was on screen) is enough to give you nightmares. Herzog's version was not only the best of the vampire films released in 1979, it is a fitting homage to the Murnau classic. Working with a relatively extravagant budget, Herzog produced a film that is eerie and unsettling. He refrains from going for quick shocks, relying instead on the overall unnerving atmosphere that resonates throughout the production. Perhaps the most iconic aspect of the film is Klaus Kinski's remarkable resemblance to the character played in the original by Schreck, who embodied what is perhaps the most unnerving movie monster of all time. Kinski's appearance mirrors that of Schreck but the actor brings his own persona to the role.
The film, based on Bram Stoker's novel Dracula, opens with Jonathan Harker (Bruno Ganz) leading an idyllic life with his beautiful young wife Lucy (Isabelle Adjani). His boss, Renfield (Roland Topor), induces him to make an arduous journey to Transylvania to visit the eccentric but rich Count Dracula, who has expressed interest in buying a house in Harker's town. Harker is enthused about the mission because of the financial rewards but Lucy has a premonition that the journey will have disastrous consequences. She pleads with him not to go but to no avail. Harker sets off over mountain roads that lead through deep forests. The nearer he gets to the Count's castle the more unnerved the local peasants are. They blatantly warn him to turn back, citing eerie disappearances and deaths associated with Dracula. Harker dismisses their concerns as the superstitions of unsophisticated people. However, upon arrival at Dracula's castle he immediately has second thoughts. The Count is a corpse-like, sinewy figure with almost impossibly long fingernails who talks in a whispery voice that is more menacing than comforting. In the cold dank castle, Dracula serves Harker a meal then becomes obsessed with sucking the blood from a small cut Harker has suffered from a kitchen knife. The Count assures him that's all just a homespun way of treating the wound. Harker, increasingly unnerved, realizes he has made a mistake in visiting the castle but it's too late to escape. Dracula notices a locket with Lucy's photograph in it and makes inquiries about her, much to Harker's distress. In the morning, Harker awakens to find he has been imprisoned in the castle- and worse, he has been the victim of a vampire. Having arranged the sale of the house to Dracula, he realizes he is in a race against time to return to his village before the Count arrives there. He is desperately ill, however, and fails in his quest. Meanwhile, Dracula has stowed away inside a coffin on board a cargo ship headed towards the town of his destination. Along the way, crew members begin to die mysteriously. By the time the vessel arrives in port, it is a ghost ship, devoid of any human life with only the captain's log hinting at the horror he has witnessed. Accompanying Dracula on board the ship were thousands of rats who now run amok in the town, spreading the plague. Harker is returned to Lucy by some kindly peasants, but he is very ill and in a zombie-like condition. Lucy is then threatened by the appearance of Dracula in her own bedroom and she realizes that the town is being victimized by a vampire, though no one believes her. As the plague takes its toll on the citizenry, the town falls into chaos- and Lucy becomes determined to kill Dracula even if she must do so by herself.
Herzog, who also wrote the screenplay, has fashioned a film that oozes menace to the extent that even before the appearance of Dracula, the movie has a sense of foreboding. It is a rather cold and emotionless film, more visually interesting than moving. Herzog seems to intentionally present his protagonists in a dispassionate manner. He provides cursory details of their lives but seems to be far more interested in making almost every frame a work of art. To a great degree he succeeded. There are images in Nosferatu that will haunt the viewer, but there's no getting around the fact that there isn't anyone the audience can truly relate to. Neither Harker or Lucy are ever seen as anything more than one dimensional characters. The silly eccentric Renfield is largely wasted in the latter part of the story. He does become a servant of Dracula but this plot device is disposed of rather quickly. Prof. Van Helsing (Walter Ladengast), who is generally presented as the hero in Dracula films, is shown here to be a half-senile old fool who realizes too late that a vampire may be running amok. Herzog provides plenty of memorable moments, among which are scenes of the town's rapid decay into death and disaster because of the plague. As Lucy walks through the town square, she witnesses doomed people acting out their final fantasies, whether it is indulging in a last sumptuous feast, dancing wildly or illogically stealing furniture from vacant stores. Composer Popul Vuh provides an appropriately eerie score throughout.
Herzog's Nosferatu is a poetic experience in many ways. It's leisurely pace and low-key tone make it one of the more unusual horror films you'll ever see. However, it can be deemed a success by virtue of the fact that he and Kinski brought relevancy to this remake of what many people believe is the greatest German film ever made.
The excellent Shout! Factory Blu-ray features both the German and English language versions of the film and a commentary track by Herzog, whose soothing, rather monotonous tone becomes somewhat mesmerizing. He provides interesting insights into the making of the film and this is complimented by the inclusion of a vintage "making of" production short that shows fascinating footage of Herzog and Kinski during production, including Kinski's rather arduous daily makeup sessions. Also included is a photo gallery showing great behind the scenes shots of Herzog at work. There are also a selection of superbly designed original trailers that truly convey the menace of the titular character.
