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Frederick
Knott's suspense play "Wait Until Dark" premiered on Broadway on Feb. 2,
1966. Lee Remick played Susy Hendrix, a
young blind woman who becomes the target of a manipulative scheme orchestrated
by a sinisterly glib psychopath, Harry Roat Jr. from Scarsdale. Robert Duvall, in his Broadway debut, had the
pivotal supporting role of Roat. A movie
version opened on Oct. 26, 1967, starring Audrey Hepburn (in an Oscar-nominated
performance) as Susy and Alan Arkin as
Roat, produced by Mel Ferrer (Hepburn's husband at the time), directed by
Terence Young, and scored by Henry Mancini. A predecessor of today's popular, trickily plotted suspense movies like
"Gone Gir" (2014) and "The Girl on the Train" (2016), the film was a
commercial and critical success, ranking number sixteen in box-office returns
for the year. Movies
adapted from plays often feel stage-bound, but "Wait Until Dark"
avoids those constraints, thanks in no small part to Young's fine
pacing, sharp eye for detail, and sure grasp of character.
Bosley
Crowther's October 27, 1967, film review in the New York Times noted that the
Radio City Music Hall screening of "Wait Until Dark" included a stage show with
a ballet troupe, performing dogs, and the Rockettes. Fifty years later, going out to a movie,
you're lucky to get a good seat and decently lit projection for the price of
admission. Any live entertainment comes
courtesy of the patrons behind you who can't put away their smartphones for two
hours.
Knott's play was confined to one interior set, Susy's cramped Greenwich Village
apartment, which makes it a perennial favorite for little-theater and
high-school drama productions on limited budgets. The movie adds a new opening scene in which
Sus's husband Sam (Efrem Zimbalist Jr.), a freelance photographer, meets an
attractive young woman, Lisa, as they board a flight from Montreal. When they land at JFK, Lisa hands Sam a
child's doll and asks him to hold on to it for her temporarily. She says it's a present for the child of a
friend, she just learned that the friend and the little girl will be meeting
her at the airport, and she doesn't want to spoil the surprise; she'll call and
come by for it later. Unknown to the
obliging Sam, it's a phony story: Lisa is a drug mule, and narcotics are hidden
inside the doll.
Lisa
had planned to double-cross her accomplice Roat and split the money from
the
drug shipment with Mike (Richard Crenna) and Carlino (Jack Weston), her
partners in past criminal schemes. Roat
murders Lisa and enlists Mike and Carlino to help him find the doll in
Susy and
Sam's apartment. He lures Sam away with
a call promising a big photo assignment. In his absence, Mike poses as
an old Army friend of Sam's, and Carlino
impersonates a detective investigating Lisa's murder. In a bad guy/good
guy ploy, the phony Detective Sgt. Carlino insinuates that he suspects
Sam of Lisa's murder. Mike intervenes, offering his support to Susy
to gain her trust. To further disorient
Susy, Roat poses as two men who appear to lend credence to the con.Harry
Roat Sr., an an aggressive old man,
barges into the apartment, noisily claiming to be in search of evidence
that
Lisa, his daughter-in-law, carried on a clandestine affair with Sam.
Later, mild-mannered Harry Roat Jr. knocks
on the door and apologizes for his father's outburst. It's a nice
gimmick for Alan Arkin, who gets
to impersonate three characters with different costumes and
personalities. For audiences who watched the Broadway
production, it might also have provided an effective "Aha" moment when
they
realized that there was only one Roat, not three. But it's no surprise
for the movie audience,
since close-up camera angles make it clear immediately that the other
two are
also Arkin in heavy make-up.
The
new Blu-ray release of "Wait Until Dark" from the Warner Archive Collection
presents the movie in a 1080p print for high-def TV. It's a definite improvement in richness from
previous TV and home-video prints. The
tailor-made audience is likely to be those older viewers who saw the film on
the big screen in 1967, who may wonder if the movie's "gotcha"climax still
holds up. Suffice to say without
spoiling the scene for new viewers by going into details, it does. The film's stage origins are obvious in the dialogue-driven
plot set-up and in the constrained setting of one cramped apartment. The measured exposition may be a hurdle for
younger viewers used to a faster pace and visual shorthand, but the
concentration of character interplay in a closed space isn't necessarily a
problem, even for Millennials who have been conditioned to expect ADHD editing
and splashy FX in movies. It imposes a
sense of claustrophobia that subtly forces the audience to share Susy's
mounting fear of being hemmed in and trapped.
In "Take a Look in the Dark", an eight-minute special feature ported over to the
Blu-ray from a 2003 Warner Home Video DVD release, Alan Arkin notes that the
psychotic Roat, with his granny-frame sunglasses and urban-hipster patter, was
a break from the usual sneering, buttoned-down movie and TV villains of the
time. "By and large, the public had not
been exposed to that kind of person", he recalls. "But they began to have people like that live
next to them, or see them in the newspapers or on TV." Ironically, if Roat was unsettling to 1967
audiences, he and his flick knife may seem insufficiently scary for younger
viewers today, in the endless wake of movies and TV shows about flamboyantly
demented murderers since "The Silence of the Lambs" (1990) -- not to mention
the perpetrators of real-life mass murders that, numbingly, we seem to see
every night on CNN, network, and local news.
In
the special feature, Arkin and Ferrer also express fond appreciation of
Hepburn, who wanted to star in "Wait Until Dark" when she realized
that she was getting too old to continue playing demure ingenues, Ferrer
says. Once Susy starts to figure out the con in the last half-hour of
the movie and, isolated from help, summons the inner resources to fight
back, she begins to resemble today's omnipresent model of screen
feminism, the smart, ass-kicking action hero. Two supporting actresses
are unfamiliar by name and face: Samantha Jones as Lisa and Julie Harrod
as Susy's 14-year-old neighbor Gloria. Jones has a chilling scene in
which Lisa's corpse hangs in a makeshift body bag in Susy's closet, and
Susy, unaware, almost bumps into it. Both actresses are so good that
viewers will wonder why they didn't have more prominent careers. (I
don't know either.) One bit of casting may be distracting to viewers in
2017 in a way that it wasn't to audiences in 1967: as Carlino, the fine
character actor Jack Weston is almost a dead ringer for New Jersey Gov.
and failed 2016 Republican Presidential hopeful Chris Christie. (He's
now running again- Ed.)
Besides "Take a Look in the Dark", the Warner Archive Collection Blu-ray includes two trailers also repeated from the 2003 DVD.One,
titled the "warning trailer" ominously cautions that "during the last
eight minutes of this picture, the theater will be darkened to the legal
limit to heighten the terror of the breath-taking climax."As
a gimmick for luring curious masochists into the movie theater, it
doesn't quite rise to the truly inspired heights of William Castle's
"Emergo", "Percepto", or "Punishment Poll", but it's still a charming
bit of vintage Hollywood hucksterism.
A
few years ago, actress-turned-playwright Carol Hollenbeck had a Zoom meeting
with a theatre group and mentioned this fabulous red-carpet premiere in her
hometown for a movie she made in the sixties. About a month later, the group
met again on Zoom and one of the group members said to Carol, “By the way, I
found your movie.’ She quickly asked, “What movie?’ “Eden Cried,” he replied.
Carol was flabbergasted. That film had been lost for almost fifty years and from
her perspective it should have remained lost.
Carol
Hollenbeck was a starstruck teenager who had been fascinated with Hollywood
from a young age. She candidly admitted, “I didn’t want to become an actress. I
wanted to be a movie star.”
Arriving
in Hollywood in the early 1960s, she unfortunately suffered the pitfalls many
naïve young women fell victim to. However, using the stage name of Carole
Holland, she did have some small successes greatly aided by the fact that she
was a beautiful, shapely, baby doll blonde.
Carol’s
looks and poise no doubt helped her land a job as a showgirl in a stage
production of Irma La Douce, starring Juliet Prowse at the Riviera Hotel
in Las Vegas. Carol recalls, “Juliet was engaged to Frank Sinatra at the time.
She was very outspoken and yelled a lot.” She donned bikinis for a few of the
non-AIP beach movies such as The Girls on the Beach. And her adoration
of Jean Harlow gave her an indirect connection to Joseph E. Levine’s Harlow
starring Carroll Baker and a direct connection to Bill Sargent’s rival Harlow
starring Carol Lynley. She actually met with Sargent to discuss her
possibly playing the thirties sex bomb. Alas, it did not come to be. [Carol
discusses her Harlow experiences in my upcoming book Dueling Harlows: The Race
to Bring the Actress’s Life to the Silver Screen from McFarland and Co.]
What
did materialize was the female lead in the low-budget oddity, Eden Cried,
which was also known as In the Fall of ’55 …Eden Cried. It was shot
in 1965 but not shown until 1967—two years after Frankie and Annette had hung
up their surfboards. It was a sort of adult, soap opera-ish Beach Party,
set in Malibu supposedly during the mid-1950s (but everything from the costumes
to the beach scenes to dance moves scream 1960s), that showed what life was
like for teenage beach denizens off the sand. There is a fair amount of surfing
footage and scenes of young people partying on the shore.
To
alleviate all the histrionics, there is narration (that was not in the movie
when it premiered) provided by a Jack Nicholson sound-alike who makes a lot of amusing,
sardonic remarks about the characters and put-downs about Southern California
living in general. It is done in a way that evokes those dead serious 1950s
documentaries where they warned viewers about juvenile delinquency or impending
bomb threats or predatory homosexuals. It also connects scenes due to missing or
excised footage.
Carol
has some good dramatic moments as rich girl Lorraine Parker (a sexy blonde with
a big bouffant and a bad reputation) new to her high school. She falls for
rebellious senior Skip Galloway (Tom P. Pace), a surfer and grease monkey with
a bitchin’ hot rod. Pace, who was in his thirties at the time but looked
forty-five, is so miscast that it is off-putting seeing him romance the more age-appropriate
Carole or confiding to Larry Reimer as his best friend Rich or just hanging on
the sand with the teenage beach and surfing crowd. Lorraine and Skip have a
tumultuous, up-and down-relationship fueled by a drag race that ends in tragedy;
her disapproving father (Victor Izay); infidelity (tired of taking it slow,
Lorraine has sex with Rich); a suicide attempt (Lorraine downs some dolls after
Skip leaves her) that leads to a quickie marriage, and an unwanted pregnancy
that breaks the couple up. This is where the film abruptly ends without the
requisite happy ending. It also promises a sequel that never came to be—thankfully.
After
its 1967 premiere in Newburgh, Eden Cried was not released theatrically.
Unbeknownst to Carol, it surfaced in January of 1972 (it is speculated the
narration was added at this point) and was screened in a few theaters in Los
Angeles. Then in April, it popped up in Atlanta before falling back into
obscurity. In both cities, the nostalgia appeal for the fifties/early sixties
was highlighted in its print ads to draw audiences. This was just ahead of the Broadway
stage musical Grease and George Lucas’ film American Graffiti—both
of which became box office hits.
As
far as Carol knows, after being shown in Atlanta, Eden Cried was never
televised and remained a lost film until a few years ago when it surfaced on
DVD (from Video Screams). It has now become a cult curio especially for fans of
1960s drive-in movies. Carol recently appeared at a screening of the movie and
is planning on attending more of them.
Cinema
Retro: How were you
cast in Eden Cried?
Carol
Hollenbeck: I blocked
it out regarding how I was cast. I really do not know. However, if I was to
venture a guess, it was because of all the publicity I was getting at the time.
My press agent was grooming me to be the next Marilyn Monroe. The media dubbed
me “Hollywood’s Mystery Girl” because I was being photographed at discotheques
and movie premieres. My face turned up in many newspapers.
CR: Do you know what the title means?
CH: It comes from the lyrics to the
movie’s theme song [written by John Bambridge, Jr. and sung by Walter Rowen]. I
felt that the title meant young love gone wrong...
CR:
What did you think of
the ridiculous casting of Tom P. Pace as your seventeen-year-old boyfriend?
CH:
Tom was almost
thirty-five. But it is Hollywood’s mentality. I will tell you why. Everybody
knew he was too old. Somebody—probably one of the producers—said, ‘I want him.
I don’t care how old he looks, I want him.’ And that was it. He was not
physically right for the part, but they wanted him anyway. With me I was a few
years older than seventeen but I did have an appropriate California blonde
beach look. The public is fixated on that American blonde image. It has always
fascinated me about the blonde myth, the blonde fantasy—the Marilyn
Monroe-type.
CR: What do you recall about the film’s
director and screenwriter, Fred Johnson?
CH: Fred was very young. We were all
young—well except for Tom Pace. I think Fred did the best he could and was a
good writer.
CR: How did it come about that Eden
Cried had its premiere in your hometown of Newburgh, New York?
CH:
I believe someone
from Walter Reade Distributors thought of it.Eden Cried had its
premiere on June 10, 1967.They flew me
from Hollywood to New York. I was treated like a star. In Newburgh, they named
a street after me called “Carole Holland Way,” but it was only for two weeks. I
was so nervous that I didn’t go into the theater to watch it. My family and
friends knew it was not very good but did not come right out and say so. They
were nice about it.
CR: Do you know why it did not get a
national theatrical release at that time?
CH: It got caught up in some kind of
squabble between Walter Reade and the producers, so it ended up being shelved.
CR: What were your feelings like after
hearing that the film was never going to be seen?
CH: Even though the film was not great, I
thought I did a fairly decent job and it could have helped me get other roles.
But I did not stay in Hollywood long enough to promote myself and get the film
footage out, so people could see it. I just chose to dislike it and put it out
of my mind. So, when it got lost and nobody saw it, I didn’t care because I
didn’t believe it was going to take me anywhere. I walked around for many years
with shame for making this film. It didn’t seem to bring me any happiness.
CR: What did you do after leaving
Hollywood?
CJ: I moved to New York and continued
acting for a bit. I did commercials and had day parts on soap operas such as Love
Is a Many Splendored Thing and As the World Turns. I appeared in a
number of Off-Broadway plays and a few movies, most notably Tootsie
where I played an autograph hound in a scene with Jessica Lange. In the
nineties, I began writing for local newspapers and then the National
Enquirer. I then joined a women’s ensemble group and began playwrighting.
Two of my plays, Funky Fifties and The Lifters, were nominated
for the Samuel French Best One Act Plays Award.
CR: Did you ever try to find Eden
Cried?
CH: In 2017, we did a reading of my
play Hometown Premiere at the Ritz Theatre in Newburgh, where
the film premiered. The staff of the theatre searched for Eden Cried because
they wanted to use a clip of it in the staged reading, since the play was
loosely based on the film’s premiere. It could not be found. I thought
then, ‘Perhaps I should accept that I did the movie, but I won’t ever find it,’
CR: When Eden Cried finally
surfaced on DVD what was your reaction?
CH: It was being sold on DVD by
Sinister Cinema.com and I
purchased a copy. What they did to salvage the film, is they added a narration
that pokes fun of the sixties’ era. I really liked that. The film is so corny
that it’s funny. The narration gives the film a Mystery Science Theater touch.
CR: After watching fifty years later,
what surprised you the most?
CH: That I had so many costume changes.
CR: What are your feelings today toward
the movie today?
CH: I have done a 180-degree turnaround. It
is like a cult film. Now everything in my apartment is Eden Cried. The
framed movie poster is on my wall. There are twenty-four products with the Eden
Cried poster on it—t-shirts, tote bags, coffee mugs, hoodies, pillows, etc. When
I couldn’t find it, I was glad I couldn’t. But when I found it, I was glad I
did. I have embraced it and absolutely love it.
In
honor of Al Pacino’s 83rd birthday this past April, Cinema Retro
looks at the new double-disc Kino Lorber 4K Ultra High Definition and standard Blu-ray
release of Sidney Lumet’s 1973 police drama Serpico, a film that is based
upon the real-life exploits of retired New York Police Detective Frank Serpico.
Serpico is an early entry in Mr. Pacino’s film roles and also one of his
most riveting. He got his start in feature films by playing a potential suitor
to Patty Duke at a party in Fred Coe’s Me, Natalie (1969) and then
played the lead opposite Kitty Winn in Jerry Schatzberg’s The Panic in
Needle Park (1971), a cautionary tale of heroin addicts in New York City.
Following his transformation from a discharged military soldier into
cold-blooded family head Michael Corleone in Francis Ford Coppola’s The
Godfather (1972), he reteamed with Mr. Schatzberg for the heartbreaking Scarecrow
(1973) -opposite Gene Hackman- as Lionel Delbuchi, a man who attempts to right
past wrongs with his ex-wife. In Serpico, Mr. Pacino’s fifth film, he
teams with veteran director Sidney Lumet to portray the real-life police
detective who not only uncovers corruption in the ranks but takes the
department to task for accountability and change.
Serpico begins at the end and is told in
flashback leading right up to the start of the film when our hero is shot in
the face by a small caliber pistol. Mr. Pacino gives a powerful and deeply
nuanced performance of a man who knows right from wrong but feels trapped
withing the workings of the police department and needs to proceed cautiously.
As Serpico is rushed to the hospital and is met by Police Chief Sidney Green
(John Randolph), the full weight of all he has been through shows on his face,
his circumstance taking him back, in flashback, to his graduation from the
police academy. In his early days, Serpico is an idealistic and happy young man
who eschews donning the police department’s standard-issue plainclothes accoutrements
in favor of dressing like a civilian to improve the relationship between police
and the community. A burglary attempt nearly proves fatal when responding
officers open fire on him in his unrecognizable getup. He meets and courts Leslie
(Cornelia Sharpe), a ballerina, and her acquaintances back away when they learn
of his profession. Their romance suffers, as does his superior’s (James Tolkan)
perception of him.
Serpico
comes face to face with police corruption and initially treads lightly as officers
he works with take money from criminals to look the other way. From their
behavior, it is just another day at the office. When he attempts to report this
to his superiors, he is laughed off. Future busts with other officers results
in him being offered his “take” which he refuses to the shock and dismay of his
peers, especially Tom Keough (Jack Kehoe) who wants the gravy train to continue
and does his best to ingratiate himself and warns Serpico to comply and not to
go against the others. He begins to wonder who is worse: the rapists and
robbers or his fellow officers?
Serpico
entrusts the aid of an associate, Blair (Tony Roberts), who knows the right
people. They go straight to the mayor’s office, but the initial meeting leads
to more disappointment as the case is tabled, making life miserable for both
Serpico and his new girlfriend who loves him and desperately wants children
with him, but she eventually terminates their relationship. He then takes on a
mobster, an unrecognizable Richard Foronjy who would appear opposite Mr. Pacino
in Brian DePalma’s Carlito’s Way twenty years later in another
elliptical narrative wherein the lead is shot and the story is told through
flashback. The arrest and confrontation is Mr. Pacino at his most explosive in
the film, his fury directed at both the mobster but more at his fellow officers
who joke around with this man who was previously jailed for killing another
police officer. Things take a dangerous turn when he goes outside of the
department to report the corruption and brings his findings to the New York
Times. Serpico finds himself transferred to a terrible neighborhood busting
drug addicts, leading him to the near fatal shot to the face, after which he
testifies before the Knapp Commission regarding the corruption.
Serpico opened in New York City on Wednesday,
December 5, 1973, almost three years shy of the actual murder attempt in
Williamsburg. It was Mr. Pacino’s first time working with producer Martin
Bregman and he would collaborate over the next twenty years on Sidney Lumet’s Dog
Dag Afternoon (1975), Brian DePalma’s Scarface (1983), Harold
Becker’s Sea of Love (1989), and Brian DePalma’s aforementioned Carlito’s
Way (1993). Serpico’s mother is played by actress Mildred Clinton. I have
only seen her in one other film, Alfred Sole’s Alice, Sweet Alice (1976)
wherein she played Mrs. Tredoni. She is deeply affecting in her small but
significant role. The remaining cast is a smorgasbord of players you will
recognize from the terrific roster of New York character actors that includes
Tracey Walter, Tom Signorelli, Kenneth McMillian, Tony LoBianco, Judd Hirsch, Sam
Coppola, Sully Boyar, F. Murray Abraham, M. Emmet Walsh, and Sal Corollo. Cornelia
Sharpe, who was producer Bregman’s girlfriend at the time (later his wife), is
given less screen time than she deserves. She went on to play the role of Nancy
Stillman in Peter Collinson’s 1974 film Open Season, a bizarre film that
has never seen the light of day on home video in the United States (but is
finally available to download on Vudu) reportedly because producer Bregman
wanted it keep out of circulation, but that’s another story.
Serpico is an example of the great New York
1970s filmmaking style that I miss so much, and the film is an authentic
product of its time. There is no way to fake 1970’s New York convincingly today.
There are too many details to capture, although HBO’s The Deuce did an
admirable job of it.
The
new Kino Lorber release of the film contains the following extras:
Disc
One: 4k Ultra High Definition (UHD)
The
first disc is a triple-layered pressing of the film in 4K UHD with the film
image scanned from the original camera negative and color-corrected.
Exclusive
to this release is an audio commentary by film historians Howard S. Berger,
Steve Mitchell and Nathaniel Thompson. This is an extremely informative and
entertaining piece, including a discussion of great New York filmmakers (think Woody
Allen, Spike Lee, and Sidney Lumet). John G. Avildsen, who would go on to
direct Rocky for United Artists and win the Best Director Oscar, was the
original director, and he did not see eye-to-eye with producer Martin Bregman
and Dino De Laurentiis, leading to his dismissal. The film was edited by the
late great Dede Allen, who would also work with Mr. Lumet on Dog Day
Afternoon (1975, one of her greatest accomplishments) and The Wiz
(1979). Filmed on a low budget, scheduling was challenging as Paramount also
needed Mr. Pacino to return for The Godfather Part II.
Disc
Two: Standard Blu-ray
In
addition to the new transfer and running audio commentary, there are the
following extras:
Sidney
Lumet: Cineaste New York
– this piece runs 30:24 and is ported over from the special edition Studio
Canal standard Blu-ray release from 2010. Mr. Lumet, in a 2005 interview, talks
about his time growing up in New York City during the Depression; the changing
nature of what the city has to offer; how safe the city was at the time of the
interview; how he uses very little violence in his films; shooting on location
in the city, and how his characters relate to their environment.
Looking
for Al Pacino –
this piece runs 30:38 and is also ported over from the special edition Studio
Canal Blu-ray. It includes onscreen interviews with directors Jerry Schatzberg,
Michael Radford, and Jack Garfein, who all speak very highly of Mr. Pacino and
his method of acting.
Serpico
Reel to Reel – this
piece runs 09:58 and is ported over from the Paramount DVD from 2002 and
includes onscreen interviews with Martin Bregman and Sidney Lumet and how the
film came together once they were all onboard.
Inside
Serpico – this piece runs
12:55 and is also ported over from the Paramount DVD and focuses on the
astonishing way that the film was made. It began shooting in July 1973, was
shot in reverse continuity, edited during principal photography, and premiered
five months later. Absolutely unreal for a film of this caliber.
Serpico:
Favorite Moments – this
piece runs 2:37 and is also ported over from the Paramount DVD. Mr. Bregman
talks about his favorite scene, which comes near the film’s end when Serpico
refuses his gold shield. Mr. Lumet’s favorite scene is at the Hell’s Gate
Bridge when Serpico unleashes on his superior about going to outside investigative
agencies.
Photo
Gallery with Commentary by Director Sidney Lumet (4:24) is also from the Paramount DVD.
It focuses on Mr. Lumet’s desire to have no music in the film, something that
Mr. De Laurentiis completely disagreed with. Mikis Theodorakis was then
contracted to write a theme for the film that appears sporadically throughout
the film but is never overpowering.
The
following trailers are also included: Serpico, Michael Winner’s Death
Wish (1974), John Schlesinger’s Marathon Man (1976), Michael
Cimino’s Thunderbolt and Lightfoot (1974), Richard T. Heffron’s Newman’s
Law (1974), Peter Hyams’s Busting (1974), Stuart Rosenberg’s The
Laughing Policeman (1973), Sidney Lumet’s 12 Angry Men (1957),
Sidney Lumet’s The Group (1966), and Sidney Lumet’s A Stranger Among
Us (1992).
Where
does a book begin? In my case, with Cleopatra
it came when my dear late mother found out that Elizabeth Taylor had been
recently seen in the pub in South East London where we used to go to celebrate
family occasions.
This
would have been in 1963/64, when the very idea of a screen goddess, a genuine film
star, a bona-fide legend likeElizabeth Taylor would inhabit the same
universe as us!
Thirty
years later and I am Film Editor of Vox,
a monthly UK music and film magazine. I wrote a feature for the 30th
anniversary of Cleopatra, and tried
pitching it as a BBC radio documentary. So over the years I accrued a filing
cabinet drawer and shelf full of material about that legendary 1963 film.
Few
of the film’s stars survived into the 21st century, so I had to rely
on cuttings, biographies and film histories. As you might expect for a film on
the scale of Cleopatra, that in
itself was quite a challenge. But the more I dipped into it the more amazed I
became: stars signed up for 10 weeks hanging round for 18 months in Rome. The
battles Darryl F. Zanuck fought to gain control of 20th Century Fox.
The Burton family’s determination to keep Richard’s marriage together…
I
suspect that my inspiration for a book was based on Steven Bach and Julie
Salamon’s books on Heavens Gate and Bonfire Of The Vanities – brilliant
books about terrible films. And for all its grandeur, Cleopatrais a terrible
film. But what a story in how it made it to the cinema screen.
It
was a five year journey: 20th Century Fox were keen to cash-in on
the success of MGMs Ben-Hur, and so dusted
down a 1917 script about the Queen of the Nile. It was intended as a $2,000,000
vehicle for Fox contract player Joan Collins with a 64-day shoot.
The
fact that the Theda Bara Cleo was a
silent film didn’t seem to worry the studio unduly. Five years later, and at a budget twenty times the original estimate, Cleopatra premiered.
Elizabeth
Taylor accounted for $1,000,000 of that budget, the first star to ask for – and
get! – that legendary seven figure sum. There was no finished script, but the
UK offered generous tax breaks, so Fox decided to construct a massive set of
the ancient port of Alexandria at Pinewood Studios. Shooting began in September
1961, the beginning of the English autumn. Some days it rained so heavily you
couldn’t see the other side of the set. Other days it was so cold, vapour was
coming out of the extras’ mouths. The imported pine tress had to be constantly
replaced because of the wind. The enormous sea tank containing a million
gallons was overflowing because of the rain.
The
original cast of Peter Finch (Caesar) and Stephen Boyd (Marc Antony) had to
quit due to existing commitments. The sky remained grey and gloomy.Trying to conjure up Mediterranean grandeur
was proving problematic. Ancient Alexandria in rural Buckinghamshire suddenly
seemed not such a good idea.
Eventually,
after two months the decision was made to pull the plug on the UK shoot. Eight
minutes of film ended up in the finished film, at a cost of nearly $8,000,000.
The question was: to write off such a sum (half of what Ben-Hur cost!) Or get a new director, script and stars and relocate
to begin filming again in Rome. At least in Italy you could be guaranteed good
weather, besides, what else could possibly go wrong?
As
Cinema Retro readers will know it all
went horribly wrong. Once in Rome, Cleopatra was far removed from the
Hollywood studio. In those pre-fax, email and text days, it was a cumbersome
business to arrange phone calls and telexes. The story of the romance between
Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor was only one of the factors whichdelayed the production of Cleopatra. Poor writer/director Joseph L. Mankiewicz was shooting
by day and writing the script by night. His original vision for the film was
two films, but the studio wanted something – anything – out to cash in on the Burton/ Taylor romance.
On
its release, Cleopatra was the most
successful film of 1963, but it took years to claw back its costs, and 20th
Century Fox was only saved by a modest little musical, The Sound Of Music, which came in at a sixth the cost of Cleopatra!
Like
many, I was of an age to be beguiled by the big-screen releases of the early
1960s. It's a cliché, but with only two UK black & white TV channels,
colour was a big deal. Especially in all its Todd-AO, stereophonic majesty. I’d
already lapped upThe Alamo,
Barabbas, King Of Kings, Ben-Hur, El Cid, How the West Was Won, The Guns of
Navarone, It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World, Lawrence of Arabia, PT109, The Longest
Day, Mutiny on the Bounty, Spartacus, and Taras Bulba. Then came The Great Escape, Fall Of The Roman Empire,
55 Days At Peking, 633 Squadron… The glory days.
Finally seeing Cleopatra was a disappointment. It has spectacle, but
is somehow just not… spectacular. And
beware the Ides of March, because once Rex Harrison is gone, the film dips. Over
the years when I began reviewing and writing about films professionally, I kept
coming back to Cleopatra. How could
they have got it so wrong? And didn’t
they learn from their mistakes? Obviously not as flops like Dr Dolittle, Star! and Hello Dolly were overtaken by the likes
of The Graduate, Bonnie & Clyde, Easy
Rider…
You’d
think by now, the studios would have learned from their mistakes, but no, only
last year Warners announced that they’d written off their $100,00,000 Cat Woman. There is something rather
magnificent in the folly of Cleopatra.
But it is a hard watch. Far more enjoyable was The VIPs, made to cash-in
on the infamy of the Burtons.
For
those of a certain age, those epic films were emblematic. They were school
holiday treats at the London Astoria, the Dominion, the Metropole… Souvenir
brochures and Kia-Ora in hand as we sat open-mouthed as the screen was filled
with thousands and thousands of costumed extras, besieging the Alamo or Peking.
Even rewatching them on CD or Blu-Ray, the scale of those productions is jaw
dropping – and those were all humans occupying those Roman forums and besieged
cities, not generated by a computer. And here’s
a thought… a profile of that maverick producer Samuel L. Bronston is long
overdue.
Cleopatra all
but finished the career of J.L. Mankiewicz, it took the studio to the cleaners,
and was a body blow from which the old Hollywood never really recovered. It is
hard to be fond of it as a film, but what happened offscreen gave me a
fantastic opportunity to recall those extravagant days. When even a film as
flawed as Cleopatra was made on a
scale which had to be witnessed with an audience. At a cinema near you…
There is little left to marvel at in
the Marvel Comic Universe.
There just aren’t stars like Burton and Taylor today. For all its manifold flaws,
there is something compelling about the legend of Cleopatra. Not so much in the finished film, but my memories of
cinema-going when a film like that was an event.For all its follies, a film like Cleopatra could almost be said to end an
era of cinematic innocence. My research into what went on off the screen, and
what it took to get it into cinemas was fascinating. They have done it with The Godfather, so maybe a TV series
about the making of Cleopatra. Now that would make a great movie.
Photo: Courtesy of Patrick Humphries.
"Cleopatra & The Undoing Of
Hollywood" is published by The History Press, £20.00, ISBN 9781803990187
Poor
Orson Welles. After the critical success but box office failure that was Citizen
Kane (1941), it seemed as though the “boy genius” could never again get his
ultimate vision on the screen when he was working in Hollywood. The studio
butchered his second picture, The Magnificent Ambersons (1942), although
the version released is still pretty much a masterpiece and earned an Oscar
Best Picture nomination. Still, it didn’t make money. After that, Welles was persona
non grata in Hollywood, at least as a director. The studios were happy to
have him as an actor.
Nevertheless,
he continued to squeeze his way in and make more Hollywood pictures. He
produced, co-wrote, and acted in Journey Into Fear (1943), and the story
goes that he directed some of it uncredited (Norman Foster was the credited
director). Welles then made The Stranger (1946) as an attempt to prove
he could deliver a movie under budget and on time—and he did. The Stranger is
perhaps Welles’ most “conventional” motion picture and it made money.
Unfortunately, RKO (the studio that had made his previous three films) still
turned its back on Welles.
The
filmmaker’s next title, The Lady from Shanghai (1947), was made for
Columbia Pictures. Legend has it that Welles, who in 1946 was producing with
Mike Todd a Broadway stage musical based on Around the World in Eighty Days,
needed $50,000 to complete the budget so that the musical could open. He called
Harry Cohn, the head of Columbia, and offered to write and star in a movie for
that amount of money,and direct the picture for free and with no credit. Cohn
asked, “What do you have in mind?” It may be an apocryphal story, but Welles,
who was calling Cohn from a phone booth, either saw a woman reading a pulp
paperback or he spied it on a rack of books. It was called If I Die Before I
Wake, a 1938 potboiler by Raymond Sherwood King. Welles, off the cuff,
grabbed the book and read the blurb on the back to tell Cohn what the movie was
about, but he improvised the title, calling it The Lady from Shanghai. (And,
indeed, Welles does not receive a credit for directing—there is no directing
credit at all.)
Cohn
made the deal, but on one condition—it had to star Rita Hayworth, who was at
the time Columbia’s biggest star. The problem with that was that Hayworth and
Welles were married, but their union was on the rocks. They were estranged from
each other.
But,
hey, both Welles and Hayworth were professionals. They could work together. And
they did. Welles assembled the cast, wrote the script, and proceeded to film on
location (New York, San Francisco, out at sea) so that no one would interfere
with the work. Of course, he went over budget and delivered a movie that was
three hours long. Cohn went berserk, took the film away from Welles, and cut it
down to approximately 90 minutes. Once again, Welles’ “vision” was hijacked.
And
yet… AND
YET… The Lady from Shanghai is a MARVELOUS motion picture! No, it wasn’t
well received by the critics or the public in 1948 when it was finally released
(it had premiered in France in 1947)… but time is often kind to movies made by
Orson Welles, and today The Lady from Shanghai is considered a film
noir classic.
Film
noir (not
a term used at the time) was big in the late 1940s. Movies like Double
Indemnity, The Big Sleep, The Postman Always Rings Twice, The
Killers, and Out of the Past were coming out fast and furiously. The
Lady from Shanghai and The Stranger are Welles’ contributions to
that stylistic movement of dark shadows, high contrast lighting,
Expressionistic design, cynical and hard-boiled characters, and crime that
doesn’t pay.
Michael
O’Hara (Welles) is an out of work seaman who meets gorgeous Elsa Bannister
(Hayworth) in Central Park one evening. He immediately falls for her, even
though she is married to one of the country’s most accomplished defense
attorneys, Arthur Bannister (Everett Sloane). O’Hara is hired to be a crewman
on Bannister’s yacht as the couple sails around North America, through the
Panama Canal, from New York to San Francisco. Along the way, Bannister’s sleazy
business partner, George Grisby (stage actor Glenn Anders, in an extraordinary,
eccentric performance), asks O’Hara to “kill” him in a plot to fake his own
death. O’Hara would be paid enough money for he and Elsa to run away together.
Ah, but nothing is what it seems. Grisby is, of course, setting up O’Hara for a
big fall, and Elsa is, you guessed it, a femme fatale.
The
plot is rather complex and there was much critical lashing at the time of the
movie’s release that it was “incomprehensible,” but this is simply not the
case. Even though Columbia deleted 1-1/2 hours from Welles’ rough cut, the
story still makes sense… and as film noir expert Eddie Muller explains
on one of the Blu-ray disk’s supplements, what isn’t explained in the movie can
easily be interpreted by audiences who are somewhat intelligent. (He calls it a
“film noir poem.”)
The
most memorable sequence is the famed climax that takes place at an abandoned
amusement park outside San Francisco. The chase and ultimate shootout in an old
fun house made up of a mirror maze has been copied many times in subsequent
motion pictures (Enter the Dragon and The Man with the Golden Gun,
for example). But the surreal quality of Welles’ direction of this sequence
reminds one of the surrealist paintings of Salvador Dalí, and it is masterfully presented. Supposedly the scene was
to have lasted nearly twenty minutes. If only we could see what ended up on the
cutting room floor!
The new Blu-ray edition from Kino
Lorber looks exquisite. The glorious black and white cinematography (by the
credited Charles Lawton Jr., with uncredited work by Rudolph Maté and Joseph
Walker) is sharp and clear. There are three different audio commentaries
one can choose to accompany the film: one by film historian Imogen Sara Smith,
another by novelist and critic Tim Lucas, and another by filmmaker Peter
Bogdanovich, who spent a lot of his later career commenting on Welles’ life and
work. An additional video supplement is an interview with Bogdanovich about the
making of the movie. A video interview with Eddie Muller shines a light on the
apocryphal tales of the movie’s production. Finally, the theatrical trailer
rounds out the package.
The Lady from Shanghai is a top-notch gem, and the new Kino Lorber release is a
good way to experience it. For fans of film noir, Orson Welles, and Rita
Hayworth. Highly recommended.
I
did not see William Friedkin’s version of Reginald Rose’s 12 Angry Men
when it premiered on Sunday, August 17, 1997 on Showtime, although I wish that
I had as it would not have seemed as dated as it does today. Like many other
fine dramas, 12 Angry Men originated as a 1954 teleplay for Studio
One and starred Norman Fell and Robert Cummings. The following year it was
staged as a play and finally directed as a film by Sidney Lumet in 1957 in
arguably its finest incarnation starring Henry Fonda as the lone juror out to
debate the fate of a teenager who may have killed his father in a moment of
rage. That star-studded interpretation bolsters excellent camera work and highly
lauded acting and makes for gripping cinema as Mr. Fonda attempts to get eleven
other jurors to reconsider their positions on whether the teen should be
convicted of murder and potentially face capital punishment, or if he should be
acquitted should there be reasonable doubt of his guilt. Forty years later, the
most obvious changes are in the casting. This time around, the judge is a
female (Mary McDonnell) and the jurors, unlike in Mr. Lumet’s version, are not
all white. Several of them are African-American and they come to blows with
each other at times. Jack Lemmon, who I loved as Shelley “The Machine” Levine
in Glengarry Glen Ross (1992), is Juror #8 who decides to stand against
the mob mentality that is comprised of Courtney B. Vance who I first saw in Fences
on Broadway in 1988; Ossie Davis who was wonderful in Spike Lee’s Do The
Right Thing (1989) as Da Mayor; George C. Scott who I loved in Patton
(1970) and The Changeling (1979); Armin Mueller-Stahl who played the
Nazi guard/grandfather in Music Box (1989); Dorian Harewood who played
Eight-Ball in Full Metal Jacket (1987); James Gandolfini who appears to
be auditioning his Tony Soprano accent; Tony Danza (yes, that Tony
Danza!) who is amusing as the juror itching to get to a ball game; Hume Cronyn
who was brilliant in The Gin Game (1981); Mikelti Williamson who I loved
as Al Pacino’s sidekick in Heat (1995); Edward James Olmos who was
creepy as Gaff in Blade Runner (1982); and William Petersen who was
never better than when he played Rick Chance in To Live and Die in L.A.
(1985).
For
those who have seen the 1957 film, everything from the film’s opening to the
poignant denouement are identical, so there are no surprise twists or changes.
This version is nearly a scene-for-scene remake, and it is shot on video rather
than film. The scenery is such that it replicates the deliberation room and
gives the feeling of the audience watching a play up close and personal. For a
remake, I would have thought that forty years hence would have made some
considerable alterations in the way the jurors speak to one another. Aside from
the inclusion of a few expletives to demonstrate the easing of social
conventions that have, incredibly, branded the film with a PG-13 rating, the teleplay
sticks almost verbatim to the 1957 film while managing to pad out the running
time to 117 minutes, a full 21 minutes longer than Mr. Lumet’s version. Even
1976’s All the Preseident’s Men with its multiple F-bombs, dropped
however casually, managed a PG-rating. The opportunity to update the story with
discussions of murder and justice, especially coming on the heels of the
explosion and proliferation of televised court proceedings and crime-based
television shows, the Rodney King beatings, race relations and the burning of
Los Angeles in 1992, and the O.J. Simpson trial, is all there for the taking
but is blatantly and noticeably eschewed. The lack of cell phones and the absence
of the then-six-year-old World Wide Web is also jarring as they were becoming
prevalent at the time of filming.
12
Angry Men is now available
on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber and is the most bare-bones release that I have seen
from them. The disc’s sole extra is the requisite trailer, this one for the VHS
release of the film. Mr. Friedkin has provided some terrific commentaries in
the past, most notably on The French Connection (1971), The Exorcist
(1973), and the aforementioned To Live and Die in L.A., and I would have
loved to have heard his thoughts on this release as he is such an entertaining
and informative speaker.
The
viewer has the choice of watching the film in either 1.33:1, which is the
original analog television aspect ratio, or 1.78:1 for anamorphically enhanced
high definition televisions.
It
has been twenty-five years since this version originally aired, and we are in
desperate need of 12 Angry Jurors comprised of men and women from
diverse ethnic backgrounds with the inclusion of examples of and discussions
regarding forensic science, computers, and DNA. The story needs relevance and a
much-needed facelift so that a fitting update is truly possible.
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.
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.
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.
Once upon a time (or more
specifically 1952) the amazing Cinerama film process premiered with “This is
Cinerama”, and for the next ten years moviegoers lined up to hurl down a
rollercoaster, cling tight on a runaway train, make a dangerous flyover at a
volcano, even sit and watch an opera, in the comfort of roadshow seats. Three cameras filming in
synchronization and mounted on a shell the size of a refrigerator captured a
panorama of wonders from around the world. This undertaking was legitimized
when three projectors, along with a fourth reel just for the multi-track sound,
spread these vistas across a curved screen and across the country. Cinerama was
a technical marvel…and not a small response to television!
Finally, after a decade of impressive
travelogues, Cinerama joined forces with MGM. The objective: begin to produce
films with actual stories using this immersive presentation. In June 1961, the
popular LIFE Magazine series “How the West Was Won” began its transition to a
giant of a western film; an all-star cast with three directors attached. A
month later, George Pal began production on “The Wonderful World of the
Brothers Grimm” and it would also employ more than one director. Henry Levin
would handle the real-life dramatics, while Pal lent his gentle hand to the
three fairy tales that would surround the story.
“Brothers Grimm” actually opened
before “How the West Was Won” and got its share of kind but not outstanding
reviews. The three fairy tales presented are not as dynamic as a Snow White or
Cinderella, but of course those stories have been strongly “Disneyfied”, so it
certainly made more sense to use less familiar subjects. What played between
the tales could be another issue: the mixture of drama (including Wilhelm Grimm
being deathly ill in the last half hour) sandwiched with “The Dancing Princess”
or “The Singing Bone” seems a tough grind for an audience full of kids. But Russ Tamblyn is a major
contributor to the fun aspects of the film, with terrific comedy, dancing and a
few dangerous stunts.
With “Brothers Grimm” and "How the West Was Won",
three strip Cinerama went out with positive memories, but it did go out.
Audiences enjoyed it but directors and actors didn’t. A decent close up was out
of the question, actors had to look past their subjects to make it appear
normal for the camera, and cinematographers tried using several inventive ways
to hide the join lines.(Trees and doorways were popular.) The rest of roadshow
Cinerama would originate from various 70mm formats with an image squeeze to wrap
around the curved screen. It was not quite the same, of course, but it brought
success to epics like “Its a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World” and “2001: A Space
Odyssey”. (Viewing the Cinerama version of “2001”, one fell into space, a
feeling not achieved with any regular 70mm version.)
Time had not been kind to “Brothers
Grimm”. For many years, home video used a print down version (merging the three
panels into a single strip) with less-than-stellar results. Indeed, it was
tough to judge the merits of the film because (to use the words of the late
Cinerama expert John Harvey) it became “The Grim World of the Brothers
Wonderful”. A last hurrah occurred at a Cinerama Dome festival several years
ago when a surviving three panel version played to grateful widescreen fans.
Note: with both “Mad World” and the previously lost “The Golden Head” on the
schedule, a few called the weekend “The Buddy Hackett Film Fest"! And Russ
Tamblyn came to the rescue again when the film broke down for a few minutes and
the movie’s wonderful woodsman filled the time with some behind-the-scenes
stories.
That night, those who were not around for “Brothers
Grimm”s initial Cinerama run discovered the glory previously hidden by its
video version. The surviving print had rough spots but no matter; when the
walk-out music began the Dome audience applauded with the attitude of “We’ve
finally seen this film the way we were supposed to.”
And that, we all thought, was
that.
Photo: Dave Strohmaier
Over the years, producer, editor
(and showmanship expert) Dave Strohmaier has gathered the best technicians in
film and video to transfer the original Cinerama films, including “How the West
Was Won” for the Blu-Ray format. The results are nothing short of remarkable,
and all those titles belong in a film fan’s library. In fact, “How the West Was
Won” has become the standard Blu-Ray for setup according to many home theater
buffs. But while that film’s elements were in excellent shape, some of “Brothers
Grimm” was not. Determining that a photochemical
restoration would be cost prohibitive, if not impossible, Dave Strohmaier, Tom
March and an army of experts set out to create a new digital presentation of
this abandoned work of widescreen art. The result is the best way to see George
Pal’s 1962 effort since, well, 1962.
Like the Warner Archive's Blu-Ray of “How the West Was Won”, “Brothers
Grimm” is a two disc set containing a “Letterboxed” presentation and a “Smilebox”
version, that replicates the experience of seeing the film in its curved screen
Cinerama glory. Choices like this are again another reason to appreciate the
disc medium.
Most may agree that “Brothers Grimm”
is one of George Pal’s most ambitious projects. But is it his greatest
achievement? Probably not. Justin Humphreys, curator of the estate of George
Pal, reflects that the film misses classic status, yet it does accomplish what
Pal, Levin, MGM and Cinema set out to make: a colorful, lively, musical, family
friendly event at the cinema. The money is up on the screen and the European
locations are major attractions.
So the greatness is found,
perhaps not in the film itself but certainly in this Blu-Ray presentation; many
home theater enthusiasts consider “Brothers Grimm” the home video release of
the year, and I agree. From the clarity of Leigh Harline’s Oscar-nominated
score to Paul Vogel’s cinematography, the film sounds and looks like it was
produced today. In fact, due to the richness of Technicolor, dare we say it
looks better than much of what we see in theaters today.
Special features are spread over
both discs; radio interviews, trailers, photo slideshows, a salute to William
R. Forman, promotional artwork, a delightful mini-doc “The Wonderful Career of
George Pal”. But the headliner is surely the 40-minute “Rescuing a Fantasy
Classic” documentary, an in-depth look at the massive digital restoration.
Thanks to the Warner Archive, Dave
Strohmaier, Tom March and the team involved, “The Wonderful World of the
Brothers Grimm” has been given another opportunity to entertain and to live on…happily ever after.
There's no question that Stanley Kubrick's 1968 production of "2001: A Space Odyssey" is a landmark in film history. However, in the final act of the film it becomes esoteric to the point that viewers and film scholars have debated its meaning ever since it premiered. Writing on the web site CBR.com, writer Ben Hardwick has unearthed an interview with Kubrick that he gave in Japan in which we he explains exactly what the meaning of the finale is. However, his explanation may require an explanation. To read the article, click here.
At first glance, "Voyeur", a 2017 original Netflix documentary, would seem to be as salacious as its title might imply- but it unexpectedly transforms into a fascinating and highly engrossing character study of two men from disparate backgrounds who are brought together by a common interest in sexual practices. In 1980, the famed journalist Gay Talese was contacted by a Colorado man, Gerald Foos, who suggested that he might have a tale worthy of Talese's talents. Foos informed the bestselling author that he was the owner of a nondescript motel, the kind of place people stop at for a night while passing through town. As with many other U.S. motels, a prurient inducement was advertised: the rooms had pornographic movies you could access on the TV, a big deal back in the pre-internet era. Foos told Talese that sex was very much on his mind and was an incentive to buying the motel. He claimed he was a voyeur, but not the average Peeping Tom who might glance in a neighbor's window in hopes of seeing a woman is some stage of undress. Foos was a professional snoop. He had meticulously transformed the crawlspace above one of the motel rooms into an eavesdropping vantage point worthy of an episode of "Mission: Impossible". The vents allowed him to see directly down to the bed but he could not be seen even if a customer were to stare straight up. Foos was an everyday, unassuming guy and was unlike another motel owner with creepy habits - Norman Bates of "Psycho"- in that he was not lonely or desperate for sex. In fact, Foos was married and his wife Anita indulged him the way a wife might for a husband's mainstream hobby. She would even tip-toe to the crawlspace to provide Gerald with refreshments and food if he was putting in some long hours staring down at his oblivious customers. The goal, of course, was to watch couples engage in sexual activities. He was more often than not rewarded for his patience.
This story appealed to Gay Talese, who was no shrinking violet when it came to sex. In fact, for a decade he had been researching his book "Thy Neighbor's Wife", a non-fiction examination of American sexual practices in the post-WWII era. There was plenty to research, as anyone who came of age in the late 1960s-1970s could attest. Before AIDS brought down the curtain on promiscuous activity, sex was everywhere, and largely guilt-free. Talese chronicled all this in his book, which was first published in 1981 and updated in 2009. As part of his research, he actually operated a massage parlor. lived in a nudist colony and engaged in sexual activities, despite the fact that his marriage was already hanging by a thread. When the book was published, it reached bestseller status and Talese revisited the Gerald Foos situation. He traveled to the motel and Foos escorted him to the crawlspace where the two men spied on people engaging in sex. Talese thought the tale was fantastic and over the years and he Foos formed a friendship of sorts. Foos, who has narcissistic tendencies, relished the fact that a New York City dandy with a famous name would be interested in his story. Talese saw the potential for another bestseller. He found Foos to be a guilt-free, jolly guy who was proud of his "accomplishment" and wanted to brag about it, with the prestige of having Talese tell his story. Their relationship continued even after Foos and his wife sold the motel.
Talese, who is an old school journalist who relies on shoe leather, personal interviews and an abundance of yellow paper writing pads, kept meticulous notes of his conversations with Gerald Foos. They formed the basis of the documentary "Voyeur", directed by Myles Kane and Josh Koury, which premiered on Netflix in 2017 but which I only recently discovered. I wasn't the only one in the dark about the documentary. In 2016, Steven Spielberg planned to make a feature film with director Sam Mendes about the Talese/Foos relationship, only to learn of the documentary, which caused him to drop the project. The documentarians spent a good many months (perhaps years) filming candid conversations with Talese and Foos, sometimes together, but mostly as individuals. Talese believed Foos was being honest with him but was haunted by the fact that Foos was his only source for these remarkable tales. It's the first rule of journalism that a writer trusts a single source at their own peril. When Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein of the Washington Post unearthed information that indicated the highest levels of the Nixon administration were involved in the Watergate scandal, their editor, Ben Bradlee, refused to print the story unless the reporters could find additional sources. They ultimately did, as recounted in "All the President's Men", but it was a painful, time-consuming process. Nevertheless, they emerged as honored journalists and brought down a corrupt presidency. In the documentary, Talese ponders aloud if he is being too trusting of Foos, but decides that since he had personally witnessed the crawlspace, the rest of his tales must be true. That theory is put to the test when Foos reveals he had inadvertently witnessed a drug dealer murder his girlfriend in the room in 1977 but never reported it. Foos said he thought the woman was only injured. The body was found by the maid the next morning. However, when Talese tries to validate the story, there was no record of it in newspaper archives. However, there was a murder in a nearby motel around that time. Was Foos expropriating that incident to sensationalize his own story?
The documentary examines journalistic methods and accountability. They are especially relevant today when elected officials with much to hide have convinced large sections of the population that real news is fake news and vice-versa. In fact, the film documents the extent to which seasoned journalists go to in order to insure accuracy. Their reputations are on the line, as Talese finds out after publication of his book about Foos, "The Voyeur's Motel", when a Washington Post reporter notifies him that he has unearthed provable inaccuracies in the tale. We watch Talese go into an emotional tailspin, first denouncing his own book, then attempting damage control. He blames Foos and himself for the scandal. Talese gets testy even with the filmmakers, insulting them on camera at one point and drawing them into the narrative. There is a morbid fascination in watching him melt down on camera. Was he sloppy in his research? Was he snookered by a man he trusted? Was he guilty of ignoring the famous cautionary line from John Ford's "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance": "When the legend becomes fact, print the legend"?
Foos, meanwhile, tries his own damage control and is more concerned
about losing his friendship with a world famous author than a string of
loose facts he had been feeding him. Foos also gripes that, in a newspaper interview to promote the book, Talese disclosed that Foos had a priceless collection of baseball memorabilia on display in his basement. Foos is outraged because he now fears he will be targeted by crooks, overlooking the fact that he had already willingly given Talese a tour of through the collectibles on film for use in the documentary.
The film will not placate the general population, which is already understandably a bit paranoid about where we are and what we do in the modern era. At one time, tiny cameras and recording devices were employed by the likes of Napoleon Solo. But today, any schmuck can by miniature eavesdropping equipment. No one knows if the room the or house they are renting isn't making their activities the object of someone's obsession.
"Voyeur" is a remarkable achievement, not only as a film, but as a sociological study of sexual perversion and journalistic practices, two subjects that are not often paired. The directors also edited the film and have done a very impressive job, given the countless hours of footage they must have had to sort through. There is also a good, appropriate score by Joel Goodman that captures the mood of the film perfectly. There is a bit of schmaltz in the film, with the directors resorting to recreations of sexual activities to represent what Foos is observing. They are tastefully done and not graphic but one could argue that Ken Burns makes documentaries about subjects pertaining to the eras before the advent of films and never uses recreations. Nevertheless, "Voyeur" is a highly engrossing achievement. Recommended.
(For the Guardian's article about the credibility scandal relating to Talese's book, "The Voyeur's Motel", click here.)
By
all accounts, Jennie Logan (Lindsay Wagner) has it all – beauty, intelligence,
a loving husband (Alan Feinstein) named Michael, and a good friend in whom she
confides (Constance McCashin). While they do not have children, Jennie and Michael
seem to be unperturbed by the lack of tiny bare feet on the hardwood floors –
there is plenty of time for all of that. Or is there? Looks can be deceiving
and it is not long before we discover that this seemingly “perfect couple†have
their own demons to wrestle with.
Guided
on a tour of the sprawling Victorian manse prior to their eventual purchase by
a matter-of-fact realtor (Pat Corley) who off-handedly remarks that the
unfinished attic is unworthy of even the most cursory glance, Jennie feels
drawn to it, though she cannot fathom why. Following their purchase and move-in,
Jennie ventures into the attic and encounters a dress that is nearly 100
years-old (shades of John Hancock’s 1971 film Let’s Scare Jessica to Death).
Trying it on, it fits her perfectly, as though fashioned just for her.
All
is not well in the household, however. Michael tries to get close to Jennie but
she quickly withdraws, plagued by Michael’s betrayal and infidelity with one of
his students. Jennie’s willingness but inability to get past it puts a crimp in
their marriage. She feels that sex for Michael is like taking a shower or going
out for a jog, but despite his protests to the contrary he practically ignores
her while watching a sports game on television, despite her wearing the old
dress that makes her appear more fetching. The dress is the catalyst, a trigger
for Jennie to see and experience a complete and alternate reality that occurred
80 years prior that consists of an artist named David (Marc Singer) who grieves
the loss of his love, Pamela. After mistaking Jennie for Pamela, David spends
time getting to know Jennie while brushing off the affections of another woman,
Elizabeth Warrington (a nearly unrecognizable Linda Gray). David’s affections
turn towards Jennie, and she becomes fulfilled by him. The question then
becomes does Jennie really see and participate in this reality or is it
all just in her head, a projection for a life and a love that she once had, or thought
she had with Michael and lost, but still longs for? Much of the film reminds
me of the Harlequin romances my grandmother and aunt had stacked in their
basements.
The
Two Worlds of Jennie Logan
is the title of this 1979 made-for-television movie that is based on the 1978
novel Second Chance by David L. Williams. I am probably in the minority
here, but Jennie Logan is an above-average outing with an intriguing
story about love, longing and the perpetual life question of the road not taken,
though contemporary audiences will no doubt find it trite and saccharine. As
someone who grew up in the 1970s, I enjoy even the most basic of television
movies as they were a lot more innocent back then in a time before the
1000-plus cable stations offered us game shows, talk shows with despicable
guests, crime dramas, politics, and the rest of it. The world was slower and
not so crazy. Some of these television films worked (Steven Spielberg’s 1971
film Duel) and many of them did not (Corey Allen’s 1985 outing Beverly
Hills Cowgirl Blues). The innocence of these films is one of the reasons
why television movies were not regarded very highly when they were made, and
certainly not today. For me, less was more and although most audiences
and reviewers look upon the average television movie with disdain, I have
always had an affection for them that holds forth now.
Lindsay
Wagner and Alan Feinstein (who reminds me of Daniel Hugh Kelly as the cuckolded
husband in Lewis Teague’s 1983 film Cujo) give decent television movie-of-the-week
performances as the couple besieged by turmoil. Jennie visits a psychiatrist
(Joan Darling) to get a handle on her issues, leading the doctor to believe
that this is all mental, a diagnosis Michael concurs with, though Jennie
believes otherwise. A trip to a local library and discussions with librarian Mrs.
Bates (Irene Tedrow, who bears a resemblance to Fay Compton, the actress who
played Mrs. Sannerson in Robert Wise’s 1963 thriller The Haunting) puts
Jennie into contact with information that she hopes will alter the course of
David’s life so that she can be with him. Her discussion with an elderly
bedridden invalid is shocking in how frightening the woman’s face is – think of
Mario Bava’s Black Sabbath (1963).
The
late writer and director Frank De Felitta is no stranger to supernatural
material. He directed The Stately Ghosts of England for NBC (1965) and the
beloved Dark Night of the Scarecrow (1981). He also wrote the novels and
screenplays for Audrey Rose (1977) and The Entity (1982). Here,
he adapts material from another author. While portions of the film take place
in 1899, Marc Singer’s beefcake stature looks out-of-place as though he is
anticipating the arrival of Fabio, but it should please women and fans
of The Beastmaster (1982), the film he is best known for.
Composer
Glenn Paxton provides a lush and romantic score to complement the onscreen
action.
Jennie
Logan premiered on the
CBS network on Halloween night in 1979 and has been released on Blu-ray from
Australia-based Via Vision Entertainment through their Imprint label, the fine company
responsible for the recent Scarface (1932) and Breakdown (1997)
Blu-rays. Here, they offer up a region-free, pristine transfer with a wonderfully
entertaining commentary by critic Kevin Lyons who speaks eloquently and
knowledgeably about the film. He gives us some interesting on-set anecdotes
about the making of the film, such as modifications made to the set as Ms.
Wagner was unable to reach the handle to the attic; a history of the house in
which the film was shot; director De Felitta making The Stately Ghosts of
England, only to discover that the reels were blank after being developed
and having to plead with the ghosts in the location where they were filming not
to mess with the production!
There
is a nice twist at the end of the film, and if you have ever lost a love in the
fashion that Michael loses Jennie, it will have an impact on you.
They
say (whoever “they†are) that it’s the “oldest profession.†Maybe it is and
perhaps it’s not, but there is no question that prostitution is indeed a
profession—if it’s voluntary. Yes, it’s illegal in most places, but still…
In
New York City during the 70s, 80s, and 90s (and probably still today), private
brothels were plentiful throughout the metropolis. One only had to pick up a newspaper
that catered to underground activities (available at any newsstand), or even New
York Magazine or the Village Voice to find classified ads that
directed clientele to phone numbers for discreet services. It is assumed that
law enforcement is paid off for protection—or maybe it’s the mob, so who knows?
While assuredly there may have been instances of human trafficking going on in
these places, most of the time these brothels were operated privately and
employed ordinary, women-next-door types who looked upon the “job†as a way of
making money.
Feminist
filmmaker Lizzie Borden’s docu-drama Working Girls,about the goings-on
and culture of a private brothel, premiered at the Cannes Film Festival in 1986
(it won the Special Jury Prize), and then was released to the public in 1987. It
is a realistic, frank, and non-judgmental examination of a handful of women who
are “working girls†and what a typical shift might be like. Suffice it to say
that it’s not the typical day job.
Molly
(Louise Smith) is a smart, attractive, Yale graduate with two degrees. Her life
partner is a woman, and they have a daughter together. Molly rides a bicycle to
work, which is an apartment with several bedrooms upstairs and a comfortable
living room and kitchen downstairs. The building’s doorman is discreetly paid
to keep things quiet. Molly works with two to three other women throughout the
day, seeing various men who make appointments over the phone. The madam is Lucy
(Ellen McElduff), an attractive middle-aged woman who states, “The two things I
love most in life are sex and money… I just never knew until much later they
were connected.†Lucy is all about the business, keeping clients happy, and
only slightly considerate of her employees. Molly, Gina (Marusia Zach), Dawn
(Amanda Goodwin), and, later, April (Janne Peters) and Mary (Helen Nicholas) “entertainâ€
a variety of men who run the gamut of personalities—shy and awkward, confident
and boorish, nice but weird, and creepily aggressive. Molly, who is usually personable
and “acts†the part she’s supposed to do, takes the work in stride until she is
pressured to take another shift into the night. Finally, the stress becomes too
much.
This
is a fascinating picture that will assuredly make you uncomfortable. It is
insightful and raw in its matter-of-factness. Director Borden takes a
documentary-like approach to the material, even though the story is fiction and
focuses on a character arc that evolves over a twelve-hour period. There is
nothing here that can be called a stereotype, and it can be said that the
sexual activity on the screen is far from erotic. The approximately 90-minute
picture was released unrated, but it likely would be a hard R or perhaps an X
(this was before X was replaced by NC-17). It should be noted that most of the
creative team and crew were women.
Louise
Smith is marvelous as Molly. She exhibits a knowing canniness to the
proceedings without letting her true emotions erupt until she finally does
reach the breaking point. McElduff’s Lucy is also perfect as the ingratiating
boss who pretends to care about the working girls, but she is truly only
interested in her married boyfriend and the gifts he bestows.
The
Criterion Collection’s Blu-ray release features a new, restored 4K digital transfer
supervised by Borden, and it comes with an uncompressed monaural soundtrack. There
are English subtitles for the hearing impaired. An optional audio commentary
from 2007 is enlightening and smart, spoken by Borden, director of photography
Judy Irola, and actor Amanda Goodwin.
Supplements
include a new conversation between Borden and feminist filmmaker Bette Gordon (Variety;
1983); a terrific new Zoom discussion between actors Smith and Goodwin,
producer Andi Gladstone, and assistant director Vicky Funari; and a new Zoom
discussion between real-life sex workers Antonia Crane, Daphne, Selena the
Stripper, and Jo Weldon. The booklet contains an essay by author So Mayer and
excerpts from a 1987 interview with Borden by film scholar Scott MacDonald.
Working
Girls is
a time capsule of 1980s New York City, a sobering view of what really goes on behind
these closed doors, and a prime example of smart, challenging, independent
filmmaking.
In
January 1998 I attended a book signing in New York City emceed by author
Russell Banks and film director Atom Egoyan. They were on hand to autograph
copies of Mr. Banks’s 1991 novel, The Sweet Hereafter, which had been
made into a 1997 film of the same name by Mr. Egoyan. Despite varying greatly,
the novel and the film both concern the aftereffects of life in a small town in
the Adirondacks when fourteen children die following an accident involving
their school bus when it careens off a slippery, snow-covered road and sinks
into the frozen waters of a nearby body of water. Mr. Egoyan claimed that he
was inspired to make the film because, he felt, something terrible will happen
to everyone at some point in his or her life, and they will need to find a way
to move on.
A
terrible fate befell nineteen-year-old Jacquelyn M. “Lyn” Helton in 1969 when, just
after giving birth to her daughter, she suffered from terrible leg pain that
was misdiagnosed as bursitis; it turned out to be osteosarcoma (bone cancer). She
sought medical treatment and was dealt grim news: either have her leg amputated
and hope that the cancer did not spread or take a chance on chemotherapy and
radiation. The former was not an option for her, and so in earnest she began
recording her thoughts and feelings about her life with her
photographer/musician husband Tom so that her daughter would hear the tapes and
know her after she died. This tragic and heartbreaking story inspired the
made-for-television film Sunshine which premiered on CBS-TV on Friday,
November 9, 1973 (Mrs. Helton passed before the film was made). Reportedly the
most viewed TV-movie up to that point in time, Sunshine stars former
model turned actress Cristina Raines as Kate, a pregnant divorcee who meets Sam
(Cliff De Young), a photographer/musician who has no real means of supporting her
but manages to assuage her tantrums by singing John Denver songs to her. The
film begins with her death and her ashes scattered, so we know the outcome from
the start.
Sam
agrees to raise her child, Jill, as his own in the midst of their carefree
lifestyle, leftover from the Flower Children of the Sixties, driving around in
a small van painted in carefree love motifs. The film deals sensitively with
the issues that no adult wants to face in their lifetime: adultery, premature
death, and the fear of the unknown. Ms. Raines gives a heartfelt performance as
a woman who is both positive and life-affirming but one who also is angry at
the fate dealt her. Ms. Raines gave up acting nearly two decades after Sunshine
to become a registered nurse, a career path change also shared by former
actress Tisa Farrow. Cliff De Young is also a singer and musician and turns in
a likeable performance as Sam. Meg Foster is also excellent as Nora, the woman
next door who begins an affair with Sam and is ultimately enlisted to help
raise Jill. Brenda Vaccaro is also terrific as the doctor who wants desperately
to help Kate and tries to convince her to stay the course, to no avail.
Director
Joseph Sargent, who honed his craft in directing television series in the 1960’s
and helmed 1970’s Colossus: The Forbin Project, would follow up Sunshine
with the last project one would expect from him: 1974’s brilliant, hilarious
and completely politically incorrect New York City film The Taking of Pelham
123. Bill Butler, who turns 100 this year and photographed The People
vs. Paul Crump (1962) for William Friedkin, Something Evil (1972), Savage
(1973), and Jaws (1975) for Steven Spielberg, and replaced Haskell
Wexler on both The Conversation (1974) for Francis Coppola and One Flew
Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975) for Milos Forman, does his best to make
Vancouver, BC a suitable stand-in for Spokane, WA. Credit should also be given
to twins Rachel Lindsay Greenbush and Sidney Greenbush who both played Jill. The
film was produced by George Eckstein, who also produced Steven Spielberg’s Duel
(1971).
If
the premise of the film seems a bit familiar, a similar story was written by
author Nancy Kincaid as Pretending the Bed is a Raft (1997) and was
filmed by director Sarah Polley as My Life Without Me (2003), in which
Ms. Polley also starred. Whether or not author Kincaid based this short story
on Mrs. Helton’s story, I do not know. Ms. Polley, incidentally, also starred
in the aforementioned The Sweet Hereafter.
Sunshine has been released on Blu-ray from the Twilight
Time sister label, Redwind Productions, however I cannot verify if they
released any other titles. There was talk of releasing Loving You
(1957), the Elvis Presley movie.
The
transfer was made from either the original camera negative, the interpositive
or internegative and was scanned in 4K. It looks like the movie was just made.
The
Blu-ray comes with a booklet discussing the film’s impact on the world and how
it was released theatrically world-wide.
The 2021 Oscar nominations have been announced. Because of the pandemic, films that premiered on streaming services were eligible for the nominations as long as the productions had originally been intended for theatrical release.
J.B. Priestly's much-loved play "An Inspector Calls" premiered in 1945. It went on to be a perennial on the stage in London's West End and even enjoyed two productions on Broadway. Additionally, it was brought to the screen in 1954 under the direction of Guy Hamilton with Alastair Sim in the titular role of the inspector. The BBC's well-received 2015 adaptation of the play is now available for streaming on Amazon Prime. It boasts an outstanding cast, a fine script and admirable direction by Aisling Walsh. To a degree, the story plays out very much in the style of a traditional Agatha Christie mystery in that it concerns the arrival of a detective to interrogate a group of rich snobs about the recent death of an indigent young woman. However, the play isn't a whodunnit because we learn early in the story that none of the snobs being interrogated murdered her, as she committed suicide. Then what is the angle here? Ah, that would be telling. As with all films of this type, the less said in terms of providing details, the better it is for the viewer. Thus, here are basics: the story is set in London in 1912. Arthur Birling (Ken Stott) is a rich industrialist who has heard he is on the short list for knighthood. He is throwing a dinner party in honor of his daughter Sheila's (Chloe Pirrie) engagement to her equally rich beau, Gerald Croft (Kyle Sotter). Also in attendance is the family matriarch, Arthur's wife Sybil (Miranda Richardson) and their son Eric (Finn Cole), who is Sheila's younger brother. The family is in a jovial mood. Business has been good and Arthur assumes it will be even better once his daughter marries Gerald, whose father is a potential business partner. The wine is flowing and the cigarettes and cigars are being passed when the maid announces the inexplicable late night appearance of a new local police inspector, Goole (David Thewlis), who announces he is there to interview all present about the tragic suicide of Eva Smith (Sophie Rundel). Each of the party attendees professes ignorance of her existence but as the dour inspector presses on, shocking information is revealed that will quickly dispel the upbeat atmosphere and thrust the family into a potentially ruinous crisis. Unlike a Christie tale, however, this one contains a criticism of societal inequities that one might associate with the works of Dickens. However, it never becomes preachy, just thought-provoking.
Director Walsh wisely minimizes exterior sequences and confines most of the action to the dining room where the increasingly tense and uncomfortable evening plays out. Each member of the cast is excellent but David Thewlis is mesmerizing as the unorthodox detective and Ken Stott is a standout among standouts as the snooty, blustery patriarch. The film ends on a note that may seem unsatisfying to some and seems tailored to make you debate what you just saw with a fellow viewer. It's ambiguity turns out to be an asset, once reflected upon.
[Much
of this review is culled from a Cinema Retro 2018 review by the author
of the Kino Lorber DVD release.]
Tony
Zierra’s fascinating documentary that premiered at Cannes in 2017 (and was
released theatrically in 2018) is about an unsung hero in the lore of legendary
filmmaker Stanley Kubrick—Leon Vitali, who describes himself not as an
“assistant,†but as a “filmworker.â€
Vitali,
now in his seventies, began his career as an actor in the 1960s, appearing in
various British films and television programs. After being impressed with
Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey and A Clockwork Orange, Vitali told a
friend, “I want to work for that guy.†He managed to get an audition for
Kubrick’s next picture, Barry Lyndon,
and landed the key role of Lord Bullingdon, the main antagonist of the film.
Vitali received much praise for his performance, but instead of continuing an
acting career, he made an extraordinary left turn. He asked Kubrick if he could
work behind the camera from then on.
Kubrick
grilled Vitali on his sincerity, and then he hired the actor as an additional
casting director for The Shining. Vitali’s
task was to go to America and find a little boy to play Danny in the classic
horror movie. The young actor turned out to be Danny Lloyd, who, as an adult,
appears in Filmworker as a talking
head. This is a treat for fans of the The Shining, for Lloyd, a private
person today, rarely emerges from his reclusiveness.
Throughout
the making of The Shining, Vitali
served as little Danny’s handler and guardian, and ultimately began to perform
more tasks for the demanding filmmaker. For the next twenty-plus years, Vitali
learned every aspect of the filmmaking business, especially the color
correction processes for film that led to his overseeing the restoration of
Kubrick’s pictures, and many other jobs. In short, he became an indispensable
ally and assistant. As one interviewee put it, Vitali became Kubrick’s
“right-hand man, along with the other hand, the legs, the shoulders, body…†(He
also played the mysterious, masked “Red Cloak†leader of the orgy sequence in Eyes Wide Shut.)
Filmworker takes the viewer
through Vitali’s years with Kubrick, commented upon by the likes of Ryan
O’Neal, Matthew Modine, Danny Lloyd, Lee Ermey, Marie Richardson, Stellan
Skarsgård, and others, plus film executives Julian
Senior, Brian Jamieson, Steve Southgate, and Vitali’s family. We learn a lot about
Kubrick’s process, as well as what kind of person
he was. While it’s well-known that the filmmaker was a perfectionist, few
realize that he was a genuinely warm, soft-spoken, animal-loving man.
Viewers
may wonder why Vitali committed so much of his life to Kubrick. As Vitali
demonstrates, the “maestro†could be intensely demanding and did not suffer
excuses. “You either care, or you don’t care,†was a mantra of Kubrick’s, and
Vitali adopted it for himself as well. In the end, we get a portrait of not only
what working for Kubrick was like, but of a man who went above and beyond what
most people would consider healthy devotion. That said, considering the mentor
was Kubrick, this was also a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to learn from and
serve an exceptional artist.
Kino
Lorber’s new pristine Blu-ray is a port-over from the previous DVD release, and
it is indeed an improvement. It comes with 5.1 Surround sound and 2.0 lossless
stereo , the theatrical trailer, and a short supplement Q&A with Vitali and
director Zierra on stage after a screening of the film.
Filmworker is a must for the
Stanley Kubrick fan, and, in general, for students and devotees of filmmaking.
Sir Sean Connery has passed away at age 90. One of the few remaining genuine legends of the film industry, Connery's passing will seem surrealistic to his legions of international fans, as he somehow seemed immortal. Connery overcame a humble upbringing in Edinburgh, Scotland to emerge as a cinematic icon. As young man, he entered the Royal Navy but his stint was short-lived, as he was released from service due to health issues. He later dabbled in weight lifting and was Scotland's candidate in the Mr. Universe contest. Connery drifted into acting quite by chance after someone suggested he audition for a chorus role in a London stage production of "South Pacific". He got the part and the acting bug got the better of him and he became determined to make it his profession. Connery secured bit roles in low-budget British films without making much of an impact, though one of the films, "Hell Drivers" managed to assemble a remarkable cast that included two other future stars who would make their marks by playing secret agents, Patrick McGoohan and David McCallum. Connery seemed poised for stardom when was signed under contract by 20th Century Fox. However, what was to be his first major film, Another Time, Another Place opposite Lana Turner, flopped.
Fox saw no potential in the young actor but two enterprising producers, Albert R. ("Cubby") Broccoli and Harry Saltzman did. The pair had recently formed Eon Productions for the express purpose of bringing Ian Fleming's James Bond novels to the big screen, having secured funding from United Artists' head of production David V. Picker, who was a fan of the books. The producers considered many young actors for the pivotal role of 007, knowing that securing the right man would be essential for ensuring sequels to their first production, Dr. No. There have been countless variations of how Broccoli and Saltzman agreed to hire Sean Connery, who had enough hubris to refuse to film a formal screen test. However, Broccoli once told this writer that it was his wife Dana who suggested Connery, having seen him in the 1959 Disney film Darby O'Gill and the Little People. Connery suitably impressed the producers and Dr.No was brought to the screen in 1962 (it premiered in America the following year.) While the film wasn't a blockbuster, it was considered to be a sizable hit and, most importantly, Connery truly "clicked" with critics and audiences. The following film, From Russia with Love was released in 1963 to great acclaim and much higher boxoffice grosses on a worldwide basis. The films pushed the envelope in terms of sex and violence and Bond rapidly became male role model for the Playboy magazine era. Broccoli and Saltzman wisely decided to make each successive film more expensive and grander in terms of production values. With the 1964 release of Goldfinger, the fan movement had evolved into worldwide Bondmania. Connery had attributed much of his success in the role of 007 to Terence Young, the dapper director of the first two films, who took the 'rough-around-the-edges' young Scot to a level of refinement, teaching him how to dress, eat and drink properly.
Despite the Bond films bringing Connery wealth, acclaim and fame, there was already the seeds of trouble in Paradise. He could perceive that the Bond films would have a much longer history than anyone initially anticipated. Consequently, he became afraid of being typecast. He sought other roles in high profile films. In the 1964 thriller, Woman of Straw, he gave a strong performance as a manipulative womanizer and schemer. Although the film is a gem, it flopped on its release. Connery had high hopes for working with Alfred Hitchcock as the male lead in Marnie the same year. Hitchcock had been riding high with a wave of acclaimed, high profile films but to Connery's disappointment, Marnie was a critical and boxoffice failure. By the time Connery went into production on the fourth Bond film, Thunderball, he was feuding with the producers, who, in turn, were feuding with each other. The unexpected popularity of the Bond franchise had put enormous pressure on everyone. Connery, an intensely private man, found himself the reluctant idol of millions around the globe. His marriage to actress Diane Cilento was suffering as a consequence. Prior to the release of Thunderball in 1965, Connery won acclaim for his lead role in The Hill, an intense prison drama that teamed him with director Sidney Lumet for the first time. The movie was widely praised but sank at the boxoffice. Connery became frustrated that fans only wanted to see him as Bond, a theory proven by the blockbuster grosses for Thunderball. Connery's attempt at a madcap comedy, A Fine Madness, also flopped in 1966, the year he was going into production on the fifth Bond movie You Only Live Twice. Filmed in Japan under enormous logistical pressures, Connery had made it known he was fed up with playing 007. Although contractually obligated to star in the next film, On Her Majesty's Secret Service, the producers released Connery from the movie and hired novice actor George Lazenby to play Bond.
Eager to reshape his image, Connery teamed with producer Euan Lloyd for the European Western Shalako, which boasted an international high profile cast. While not a flop, the movie also didn't indicate that there was a major acceptance of Connery in a non-Bond role. The Russian/Italian co-production of The Red Tent in which Connery played doomed Norwegian Arctic explorer Roald Amundsen, was a boxoffice disaster. He had high hopes for director Martin Ritt's The Molly Maguires, but that failed commercially, too. Perhaps for this reason, Connery agreed to return to the role of James Bond one more time in Diamonds are Forever. After George Lazenby had quit the series after only one film, producers and United Artists had signed American actor John Gavin for the role of Bond. However, David Picker wanted to ensure the stability of the lucrative series and offered Connery the highest salary ever paid to an actor: $1.25 million plus a percentage of the gross. Connery agreed with the promise of using the windfall to establish a charity in his native Scotland. Ironically, Connery's latest non-Bond film, The Anderson Tapes, proved to be a critical and commercial success even as he was filming his return to the role of 007. Predictably, Diamonds Are Forever was a smash hit, despite the fact that a weak script had left some diehard fans somewhat disappointed. After all, Connery was back and the world press rejoiced. Nevertheless, Connery resisted offers to appear as Bond again in Live and Let Die and Roger Moore inherited the role, finding equal success over a twelve year period.
Some of Connery's post-Bond films fared well, despite the high profile failure of director John Boorman's sci-fi film Zardoz and The Offence, a grim police drama in which Connery gave an Oscar-caliber performance. However, the movie, which reunited him with Sidney Lumet, was barely released theatrically and played briefly in only a handful of venues. Connery finally began to earn praise from critics for his performances in films such as The Man Who Would Be King, The Wind and the Lion, Murder on the Orient Express, The Great Train Robbery and Robin and Marian. By this point in his personal life, he and Diane Cilento had divorced. Connery would then marry the artist Michelene Roquebrune in 1975. They remained married until his death. Professionally, many of his films still failed at the boxoffice, though by this point he was enjoying status as an icon of international cinema. In 1983, he returned to the role of James Bond in Never Say Never Again, a loose remake of Thunderball that was produced outside of the Eon franchise films. The movie was a financial success and earned good reviews, though Bond purists widely consider it to have fallen short of its potential.
In 1988, Connery was awarded the Best Supporting Actor Oscar for his impressive performance as an aging Irish cop on the trail of Al Capone in The Untouchables. Even as he aged, he was regarded as a sex symbol. Upon being told that he had been voted "The Sexiest Man Alive", Connery characteristically quipped that there weren't many sexy dead men. In 1989, he co-starred with Harrison Ford in the blockbuster Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, directed by Steven Spielberg. Connery would later say it was one of his most enjoyable experiences as an actor. The following year, he scored another hit with The Hunt for Red October, a Cold War thriller that benefited from the recent collapse of the Soviet Union. However, it wouldn't be until 1996 when he starred in another blockbuster release with the prison adventure film The Rock. His 1999 crime caper Entrapment was also a major hit but Connery was publicly griping that the filmmaking process and the quality of scripts presented to him were becoming matters of concern. After the ill-fated super hero movie The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen in 2003, he announced he was retiring from acting. Despite overtures from the industry, Connery refused all offers, including another Indiana Jones film.
In his post-retirement years, Connery kept a low public profile, rarely appearing at events or granting interviews. This led to rumors that he was ill or even at death's door. However, in 2010, his brother Neil told this writer that people simply didn't understand that Connery was enjoying a laid-back retirement lifestyle, having traveled and worked so extensively for decades. Politically, Connery remained steadfastly nationalistic in terms of Scottish independence and would occasionally March in the Tartan Day parade in New York City, attired in a kilt.
Sir Sean Connery's legacy was not only as an icon of international cinema, but also as a man of dignity and honor who made it to the top without compromising his principles. He had lived to see many of his films become regarded as classics and he enjoyed the respect of his peers as well as audiences around the world. Not bad for a Scottish lad who started out driving lorries and polishing coffins.
Director Mark Robson's tragic boxing drama "Champion" was widely praised when it premiered in 1949, earning six Oscar nominations including one for Best Actor for rising young star Kirk Douglas. It was this film that made Hollywood studios take serious notice of Douglas and there would be no looking back. Douglas would be a bonafide star throughout his entire career. The original review of the film in the Hollywood Reporter lavishes praise on Douglas, calling him a "vigorous, manly, exciting actor". Click here to read the full review.
If
you’ve never seen Waiting for Guffman, you owe it to yourself to grab
this wonderful motion picture (now available as a Warner Archive Blu-ray
release) or find it streaming somewhere, for it is such a laugh-a-minute
extravaganza that truly set in motion the so-called “mockumentaries†made by
Christopher Guest and his revolving stock company of comic actors.
It
all started, of course, with This is Spinal Tap (1984), in which Guest,
Michael McKean, and Harry Shearer (among others) presented a pseudo-documentary
about a wacky rock band. This picture was directed by Rob Reiner. It was so
well done that some people wondered why Reiner had chosen a band “no one had
heard of†to make a documentary about. The film skewered the rock world, band
politics and antics, and gave us highly quotable lines of dialogue and
memorable sequences, as well as actual songs ultimately released as a real
album.
A
decade later, Guest took the mockumentary concept and made it his own beginning
with Waiting for Guffman, which premiered at the Boston Film Festival in
1996 and was released to U.S. cinemas in early 1997. His stock company in this
case included Eugene Levy, Catherine O’Hara, Fred Willard, Parker Posey, Bob
Balaban, Michael Hitchcock, Larry Miller, and others. Even Michael McKean and
Harry Shearer show up in the credits—as co-composers with Guest of the original
songs performed in the picture (so, in effect, one could say that Spinal Tap
wrote the score for Waiting for Guffman).
Guffman
uses
the documentary approach to what it’s like to be in a small-town community
theatre. The 150th-anniversary celebration of Blaine, Missouri is approaching,
and Corky St. Clair (Guest) is in charge of putting on the live show that will
tell the story of the town’s history. Corky used to work in New York theatre
(so he says), so the townspeople consider him to be an “expert†(his previous
production of Barefoot in the Park was apparently a smash). Ron and
Sheila Albertson (Willard and O’Hara) are travel agents who believe they have
talent and have experience acting in the community productions, so they’re a
shoo-in to be cast. Town dentist Dr. Allan Pearl (Levy) has never acted but has
the bug, so he auditions. Libby Mae Brown (Posey) works at the Dairy Queen and
aspires to make it big. Corky brings in music teacher Lloyd Miller (Balaban) to
handle the musical direction. Unfortunately, Corky has no budget to speak of
and must make lemonade out of, well, a lot of bad lemons. The town council,
after first refusing Corky’s request for $100,000 (!) to do the show, they
encourage him to “make magic†the way he’s done before. Indeed, Corky’s magic
ultimately gets the show up and running.
The
humor comes in the improvised characterizations the brilliant cast brings to
the table. For example, Guest plays Corky as a closeted gay man with every
stereotypical mannerism in the book, even down to speaking of a wife that no
one ever sees. Anyone who has worked in community theatre (or high school or
college theatre, for that matter) must know someone exactly like Corky
St. Clair. The late Fred Willard is hilarious as the wannabe movie star, and
O’Hara is a perfect foil for him. Posey is very winning; the actress was just
beginning her career when the picture was made, and she almost steals the
movie. Balaban plays his part as a frustrated perfectionist who would rather be
the boss of the production instead of following Corky’s orders.
Guest
would go on to make other classic mockumentaries (Best in Show, A
Mighty Wind), but they don’t get much better than Waiting for Guffman,
the title of which refers to the famous Samuel Beckett play, Waiting for
Godot. In this case, Guffman is the New York critic who Corky promises will
come to see the show and possibly take the company to Broadway.
Warner
Archive’s Blu-ray (produced on demand) looks sharp and colorful, and it is a
high definition transfer of the previously released DVD from years ago. It
comes with an audio commentary by Guest and Levy that is as entertaining as the
film itself. For supplements, there are many deleted/additional scenes that are
just as fun, including two musical numbers from the “show†that were cut for the
theatrical release. These scenes also come with optional commentary by Guest
and Levy. The theatrical trailer rounds out the package.
Waiting
for Guffman stands
as one of the great comedies of the last 25 years, and it’s a testament to the
tremendous talent of many alumni of National Lampoon’s Radio Hour, Second
City, SCTV, Saturday Night Live, and other breeding grounds
of some of our most treasured funny people. Highly recommended.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM THE CINEMA RETRO MOVIE STORE
Cinema Retro has received the following press release from Mill Creek Entertainment:
Exclusive Release For Ultraman Day Featuring Cover Art By
Alex Ross!
Minneapolis, MN (June 17, 2020) Mill Creek Entertainment
is pleased to announce, “The Birth of Ultraman Collectionâ€, a Blu-ray set
containing some of the best episodes of the original ULTRAMAN series with both
the original Japanese language and the classic English dub audio tracks plus
THE BIRTH OF ULTRAMAN – ULTRAMAN Pre-Premiere Special, the very first
appearance of the hero that would become famous across the world as Ultraman.
This exclusive Blu-ray release also features art created
by Alex Ross which is also featured on THE RISE OF ULTRAMAN cover for Marvel
Comics and Tsuburaya Production’s recent collaboration with the debut issue
releasing September 2020.
This exciting, special-edition comes off the back of Mill
Creek Entertainment’s license of the entire available Ultraman back-catalog via
international distribution company Indigo Entertainment, from the revolutionary
team at Tsuburaya Productions Co., Ltd.
Mill Creek Entertainment now brings a selection of
ULTRAMAN episodes in high definition video with DTS-HD Master Audio of the
original Japanese soundtrack plus the uncut United Artists English dubs. Each
episode will also come with two English subtitle options; one for the Japanese
audio and a second matching the English audio track. “The Birth of Ultraman
Collection" will include the following episodes...
Episode 1 – ULTRA OPERATION NO. 1 – The story begins as
the heroic alien Ultraman pursues the space monster Bemular to Earth, leading
to a fateful encounter with Shin Hayata, an agent of the SSSP.
Episode 2 – SHOOT THE INVADER – Ultraman’s iconic foe,
Alien Baltan, makes its first appearance in a tale narrated by Ide, the SSSP's
genius inventor.
Episode 19 – DEMONS RISE AGAIN – An ancient time capsule
unleashes the red-skinned monster Banila and its blue-skinned rival Aboras, who
wage a titanic battle in the National Stadium.
Episodes 26 & 27 – THE MONSTER HIGHNESS Parts 1 &
2 – The only 2-part ULTRAMAN story features the Ancient Monster Gomora, who
escapes captivity and overwhelms Ultraman as it rampages towards Osaka.
Episode 33 – THE FORBIDDEN WORDS – When Alien Mefilas
tries to convince a boy to give him the Earth, even Ultraman may not be able to
stop him.
Episode 37 – A LITTLE HERO – Ide suffers a crisis of
faith as the Friendly Monster Pigmon warns that the evil creature Geronimon is
reviving an army of monsters to destroy Ultraman and the SSSP!
Also included is THE BIRTH OF ULTRAMAN – ULTRAMAN
Pre-Premiere Special. Airing in Japan on July 10, 1966, one week before the
series premiere, this stage show was filmed before a live studio audience and
introduced viewers to the story, cast and characters of ULTRAMAN. This July 10
debut of ULTRAMAN on television is now celebrated annually and known throughout
the world as “Ultraman Day.†Never before released in America, this special is
presented in black & white (as originally broadcast) in standard definition
with Japanese audio and English subtitles.
ULTRAMAN premiered on Japanese television on July 17,
1966 and was an immediate ratings smash. While the series was still in
production, the North American rights were licensed to United Artists, who
in-turn commissioned voice director Peter Fernandez (Speed Racer) to supervise
the English dubbing of the show. The English language version was syndicated to
American television in 1967 and went on to air in various markets across the
country into the early 1980s.
"The Birth of Ultraman Collection" Blu-ray will
be exclusively sold on DeepDiscount as part of the launch of a dedicated
Ultraman storefront that will offer up all of Mill Creek Entertainment's
current Blu-ray/SteelBook® releases in addition to other Ultraman related
merchandise and product. Available July 10, 2020, the set retails for
$25.99. Pre-order today: https://bit.ly/DDUltraman
Back
in 1973, producer Ely Landau and his wife Edie launched a daring and
unprecedented cinema series that played in the U.S. for two “seasons,†with a
total of fourteen titles (but only thirteen were shown), all renowned
works—classic and modern—originally produced on the stage. It was called the
American Film Theatre. (A review of a DVD box set of the entire series appeared
on Cinema Retro previously. Click here to read.)
The
concept tried something different. The directive was to take a great stage
play, not change a word, and in
most cases, use the actual play script as the screenplay. The next step was to
hire an accomplished film director to interpret the text for the film medium but stay faithful to the play.
Sometimes the director was the same person who helmed the original stage
production. A further step was to persuade the original casts from the Broadway
or London productions of those plays to star in the film; or, when that wasn’t
possible, to cast big-name Hollywood or British actors. Thus, the result was
indeed a filmed play—but you as an audience member wouldn’t be watching it from
the middle of the orchestra or from the side or from the first balcony; instead
you were up close and personal in a realistically-presented world (on studio
sets and/or real interior or exterior locations)—just like in “regular†movies.
You had the best seat in the house, so to speak, but there’s no proscenium
arch. It’s a movie. But it’s a play.
Kino
Lorber has slowly been re-releasing the movies from the American Film Theatre
in individual packages, upgraded to high definition Blu-ray. One recent title
is the picture that opened the series, and it’s one of the best. The Iceman
Cometh, from the play by Eugene O’Neill, is directed by the formidable John
Frankenheimer (the script was adapted by Thomas Quinn Curtiss), and is a
remarkably faithful rendition of this lengthy powerhouse of a stage drama.
While the filmmakers indeed made some cuts to the text, the picture still runs
just a minute or two less than four hours, and that’s not including two
built-in intermissions! (Have you ever seen a film in a theater with two intermissions?
It’s not unusual for the theatre, though!)
This
is drama with a capital “D.†You get to spend the four hours with a bunch of
hopeless alcoholics in a dark, decrepit Irish bar in the big city and listen to
their tales of woe and “pipe dreamsâ€â€”the theme running through the piece that
highlights the hopes and wasted lives of men and women on the fringe. The play
originally premiered in the mid-1940s, about a decade after AA became a thing. Doesn’t
sound like a lot of fun? Stop! It’s true that the tale is terribly depressing,
but Iceman is such a masterwork in writing and acting that you come out
enlightened and, yes, changed.
An
amazing cast dominates the production. Lee Marvin stars in the showy role of
Hickey, a traveling salesman who has gone on the wagon and is usually the life
of the party when he comes into town—but now he’s preaching abstinence to the
motley crew who doesn’t want to hear it. Fredric March, in his last screen
appearance, plays Harry Hope, the owner of the bar, but he’s just as damaged and
forlorn as the rest of his clientele. Robert Ryan (who co-starred with Marvin in the classics Bad Day at Black Rock and The Professionals), also in his last film role, steals
the movie in an amazing performance as Larry Slade, a bitter anarchist and
journalist who is really the protagonist of the story and through whose eyes we
navigate this precarious jungle of fog and booze. A very young Jeff Bridges,
only a couple of years after his big splash in The Last Picture Show,
plays Don Parritt, the son of Larry’s girlfriend—a woman who has been arrested
for her political activities.
Those
are the main four genius thespians on display here, but a supporting cast
consists of the likes of Bradford Dillman, Moses Gunn, Sorrell Brooke, Clifton
James, Tom Pedi, and Martyn Green, plus the three streetwalking ladies who
congregate and cavort with the men, played by Evans Evans, Hildy Brooks, and
Nancy Juno Dawson.
Cinema Retro has received the following press release:
Blaxploitation?
No, Bruceploitation!
The
Film Detective Presents 40th Anniversary Edition of the
Cult
Classic Fist of Fear, Touch of Death on Blu-ray & DVD
Collector’s
Set 4K Restoration With Exclusive Special Features
(With
Blood-Red, Blu-ray Case), Available March 31st
ROCKPORT, Mass. — March 23, 2020 — For Immediate Release —
The Film Detective (TFD), a leading classic media streaming network and film archive
that restores classic films for today's cord-cutters, is proud to announce the
40th anniversary edition of the cult classic Fist of Fear, Touch of Death in a
special collector’s set.First presented in 1980 by veteran distributor and
producer Terry Levene and director Matthew Mallinson, the action-packed Fist of
Fear, Touch of Death premiered as one of the final pieces of the
Bruceploitation era.
A subgenre of 1970s cinema, Bruceploitation clung to the
box office success of the Bruce Lee legacy after the star’s untimely demise in
1973, utilizing Lee lookalikes and archival footage from the legend himself.
Carving a niche within the grindhouse market, Bruceploitation not only appealed
to fans of the day, but has generated a cult status in recent years.
True to Bruceploitation fashion, Fist of Fear, Touch of
Death features eye-popping combat scenes viewers will have to see to believe,
putting the 1979 World Karate Championship at center stage, where martial
artists take their shot at eliminating the competition and claiming the title
of “successor to the Bruce Lee legacy.â€
Using mockumentary-style interviews in the film, hosted
by Academy Award-nominee Adolph Caesar, martial arts masters Fred Williamson and
Ron Van Clief, among others, emerge from every corner of the martial arts world
to give their take on whether any competitor can be deemed worthy of the Bruce
Lee legacy.
Lee himself receives top billing in the film, appearing
in archival footage dubbed “The Bruce Lee Story,†a chronicle of Lee’s early
years partially taken from the 1957 film, Thunderstorm. In the film, a Kung Fu
move known as the “Touch of Death†shrouds Lee’s untimely demise in mystery,
before returning to the World Karate Championship to watch the new victor claim
the title.
Said the film’s star, Fred
Williamson, “It was never meant to be a serious martial arts movie. It’s a
comedy and satire … a bad movie that was good. Why was it good? It was
entertaining, which is, after all, why you make a movie.â€
Said Phil Hopkins, founder of The Film Detective, “We are
excited to be giving Fist of Fear, Touch of Death the restoration it deserves
in honor of its 40th year. Fans of Quentin Tarantino’s recent tribute to
Hollywood’s Golden Age, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, are sure to appreciate
this grindhouse classic and new, never-before-seen special features.â€
A drive-in circuit sensation in 1980, this special 40th
anniversary collector’s set is guaranteed to pack a punch with audiences,
featuring a blood-red, Blu-ray case and a stunning 4K restoration from the
original 35mm camera negative under exclusive license from the film’s original
producers at Aquarius Releasing, Inc.
EXCLUSIVE SPECIAL FEATURES: Stars Fred Williamson and Ron
Van Clief are reunited for interviews, masterfully produced by Prince Henry
Entertainment Group founder Frazier Prince; and producer Terry Levene, director
Matthew Mallinson and scriptwriter Ron Harvey give their behind-the-camera take
on the film in new interviews conducted by producer and editor Jim Markovic as
part of an exclusive, 30-minute featurette, That’s Bruceploitation, by Daniel
Griffith from Ballyhoo Motion Pictures. Limited-edition Blu-ray copies will
feature a special liner note booklet written by Justin Decloux and Will Sloan,
hosts of The Important Cinema Club podcast.
Fist of Fear, Touch of Death is available for purchase on
The Film Detective website March 31 in a limited-edition Blu-ray ($24.99) or on
DVD ($19.99). With a limited pressing of just 1,500 Blu-rays, this exclusive
deal won’t last long. Fans can secure a copy by ordering at www.thefilmdetective.com/fist-of-fear
About The Film Detective:
The Film Detective is a
leading distributor of restored classic programming, including feature films, television,
foreign imports, and documentaries. Launched in 2014, The Film Detective has
distributed its extensive library of 3,000+ hours of film on DVD and Blu-ray
and through leading broadcast and streaming platforms such as Turner Classic
Movies, NBC, EPIX, Pluto TV, Amazon, MeTV, PBS, and more. With a strong focus
on increasing the digital reach of its content, The Film Detective has released
its classic movie app on web, iOS, Roku, Amazon Fire TV, and Apple TV. The Film
Detective is also available live with a 24/7 linear channel available on Sling,
STIRR, and DistroTV. For more information, visit us online at www.TheFilmDetective.com.
Writer Ralph Jones looks back on the debacle that was the 1999 big screen production of "Wild Wild West", based on the popular 1960s TV series "The Wild, Wild West". Despite an abundance of talent topped by superstar Will Smith, the film was a critical debacle. Thanks to Smith's boxoffice clout, it wasn't a boxoffice disaster, but even before the movie premiered, there were signs a turkey was about to be unveiled. In his article, Jones contacts some of the key participants in the botched attempt to turn yet another beloved TV series into a big screen franchise.
After finding
chart-topping success in the late 60s, Sonny and Cher found themselves
performing in nightclubs in 1970 when they were “discovered†by CBS
entertainment chief Fred Silverman, who decided they had great potential for a
weekly variety series. The Sonny & Cher Comedy Hour premiered on August 1,
1971 as a summer replacement, but quickly reached the top 20, becoming a Wednesday night draw for the
Network and cementing Sonny and Cher as one of Hollywood’s most beloved
couples.
Containing 10
hilarious, never-before-released episodes of The Sonny & Cher Comedy Hour (1971-74),
which feature the musical duo performing their hit songs and side-splitting
sketches with must-see guest stars, I GOT YOU BABE brings home audiences back
to the beginning with the pilot episode, firsts of many classic sketches -- just
naughty enough for nighttime! – Cher’s incredible Bob Mackie-designed costumes and
the chemistry that started it all.Also,
tune in for an incredible line-up of guest stars including Dick Clark, Jerry
Lewis, Jim Nabors, Joe Namath, The Righteous Brothers, Dinah Shore, Carroll
O’Connor, Art Carney, Chuck Berry, The Supremes and many more!
I GOT YOU BABE: THE
BEST OF SONNY & CHER also features exclusive extras including:
Sonny & Cher’s
pilot, an appearance on The Barbara McNair Show (Original Air Date: February
15, 1970)
Jerry Blavat’s 1970
interview of the duo on “Jerry’s Place†featuring an impromptu performance of
“I Got You Babeâ€
Interviews with Frankie
Avalon, producers Allan Blye and Chris Bearde, and Cher herself!
Day
and date, Time Life will also bring The Sonny & Cher Comedy Hour to leading
digital platforms for the very first time!Available for download on Amazon, iTunes, and Google Play will be 10
hand-picked episodes of the fan-favorite TV Variety show, assuring that the
fondly-remembered series lives on for a new generation of classic TV lovers.
The transgressive effect of Crash
is immediate since the film opens with three sex scenes in succession.
Cronenberg observed the effect first hand at test screenings:
There are moments when audiences burst out laughing, either in
disbelief or exasperation. They can't believe that they're going to have to
look at another sex scene . . . In one of my little test screenings
someone said, "A series of sex scenes is not a plot." And I said,
"Why not? Who says?" . . . And the answer is that it can be,
but not when the sex scenes are the normal kind of sex scenes . . . Those can
be cut out and not change the plot or characters one iota. In Crash,
very often the sex scenes are absolutely the plot and character
development.[i]
The aberrant sex depicted in those many
scenes that drive the narrative, adultery, cuckoldry and other such instances
of polymorphous perversity, is inherently transgressive. To achieve the
transgressive kinetics of those scenes Cronenberg relied on an exceptional troupe
of intellectually engaged actors, among them Deborah Kara Unger, who admitted to
her own transgressive experience with the film in her role as Catherine
Ballard, “When David Cronenberg sent me his script . . . I was shocked, taken
aback, absolutely altered by it – and unprepared for that alteration . . .undeniably
the script impacted me and changed me.â€[ii]
Perhaps the best way to conceptualize Cronenberg's cinematic coups de main
is as a cult rite of passage the viewer must pass through to earn one's
"ticket to ride" in the vehicle known as Crash.
Crash is set in what appears to be the late
20th century North American urban center of magnificent high-rise
enclaves and overstimulated existence. Catherine and James Ballard (James
Spader) are the upper-middle class thirty-something couple of the not too
distant future who delight in sharing the intimate details of their
extramarital exploits. However even this arrangement does not fully satisfy
them since neither Catherine nor James climax during their encounters; "Maybe
the next one . . . " is their household refrain. On one late night commute
down a rain-swept road James loses control of his car and collides head-on with
a vehicle driven by Dr. Helen Remington (Holly Hunter). Their crash effects an
intellectual awakening in both of them to the potential of enhanced erotic
experience. She puts him in contact with Vaughan (Elias Koteas), former
specialist in international computerized traffic systems, now the creative
intelligence behind a car crash cult. Other cult members include Colin Seagrave
(Peter MacNeill) active in the staging of celebrity car crash reenactments and Gabrielle
(Rosanna Arquette) a permanently debilitated car crash survivor in
steel-reinforced leg and hip braces. Crash becomes the journey of James
down the road of discovery in search of a new form of ecstasy that may provide
some vitality to his otherwise disconnected and passionless existence.
In his 2008 memoir My
Word is My Bond, Roger Moore recalls the fortunes that followed his second
turn as James Bond in The Man with the
Golden Gun (1974). “It seemed I was in demand!†he gushed. “Scripts were
coming in to my agent and offers were being made everywhere.â€Indeed, the success of his first Bond film Live and Let Die was not guaranteed, so
when audiences turned out in remarkable numbers - the film raked in more than
126 million at the worldwide box office - everyone at United Artists and Eon
Productions could breathe a little easier.It appeared that Moore’s interpret as agent 007 had been embraced by James
Bond fans worldwide.Live and Let Die would premiere in June
of 1973 with a massive press campaign. Throughout the summer of 1973 Moore would
work tirelessly on the promotion of the eighth James Bond film.
By September of 1973 Moore was due to get back to work on
his first post-Bond project.He and
former Bond film editor-director Peter Hunt (On Her Majesty’s Secret Service) flew directly to Johannesburg,
South Africa, where a team awaited to begin work on Gold (1974).It was a
difficult production, beset by problems both logistical and political.Not the least of which was an uneasy
disagreement with the actor’s union due to the unit’s shooting the film in
apartheid-era South Africa. Moore would admit
to Hollywood columnist Earl Wilson that while he was duly proud of his work on Gold it was nevertheless an exhausting,
laborious and unglamorous shoot.The
actor rued that he and the film crew were routinely dispatched “6,000 feet
underground in a gold mine in South Africa.It was slightly claustrophobic and acrophobic, and [we] were dropping
4,000 feet in two minutes [into] miles and miles of tunnels.â€
Moore would soon be back in daylight.Piggybacking on his new found James Bond
fame, the years 1973-1985 would prove to be the actor’s most productive as the
principal marquee draw in feature films.Due to the commercial success of Moore’s first James Bond adventure, a
decision was made by UA and Eon to go with the momentum and get the announced
follow-up Bond adventure, The Man with
the Golden Gun into theaters as soon as possible. Their reasoning was sound, at least in
theory.They believed a quick follow-up to
Live and Let Die would even more
firmly establish Moore as the quintessential James Bond of the new decade. So it was on this gamble that principal
photography would commence on The Man
with the Golden Gun in April of 1974.It was, by the standards of the Bond franchise, an unusually rushed
production.Though a handsomely produced
film, the box office receipts and reviews for Moore’s second Bond outing were
less spectacular than for his first.The
film was released, somewhat incredibly, a mere eight months’ following the
start of filming.
If the ninth James Bond film fared less well than its
predecessor, it can partly be attributed to the fact that Moore had little to no
time to promote his second turn as oo7 as vigorously as his first.Filming on his next project, That Lucky Touch (1975), was scheduled to
commence in December of 1974, this date neatly overlapping with The Man with the Golden Gun’s hurried Christmas
holiday release.That Lucky Touch was shot on location in and around Brussels,
Belgium, and at Pinewood Studios.The
film was constructed as a romantic-comedy of sorts, Moore’s arms-dealing
Michael Scott falling in love with contrarian journalist Susannah York.But Moore’s fans certainly wouldn’t have
known the film was a Rom-Com had they trusted the misleading one-sheet posters
issued to promote the film.
Capitalizing on Moore’s success as the new James Bond –
or perhaps in recognition That Lucky
Touch as released was a complete dud - the film’s marketing team had done
their best to pass the film off to unsuspecting filmgoers as a new spy
adventure.The most egregious example of
this promotional shell-game was the poster depicting a tuxedoed Moore standing
center, right arm crossed against his chest and brandishing a pistol in the classic
James Bond fashion.He’s flanked on the
poster by two lovelies, the image of a roulette wheel serving as a suitably Bond-ish
backdrop behind them.
Luckily, his association with the James Bond franchise
was enough to keep the scripts and offers coming in.There was plenty of work to keep himself busy
as an army of lawyers moved in to settle Bond’s legal affairs. Moore would appear
in his second film for Peter Hunt, Shout
at the Devil (1976), sharing the starring co-bill with tough-guy Lee
Marvin.Principal photography on that
film would take place from March 1975 through July 1975.Reading through scripts and considering other
offers late into the summer, Moore sat down for an interview with columnist
Joyce Haber of the Los Angeles Times
in September of ‘75.The actor announced
he had chosen his next project.He was soon
to begin an eight-week shoot in San Francisco for an independent film financed
by Italian money.The working title of
the film was The Sicilian Cross.“It’s about the Mafia and I’m mixed up in it,â€
he explained.
The Image Book(Le Livre d'image) is the latest offering by octogenarian auteur Jean-Luc Godard. It is a
cinematic essay likened by some reviewers to be a sequel of sorts to his
encyclopedic Histoire(s) du cinema (1989-1998). However, the cinematic essay
or cine-essay is the mode of discourse Godard began to employ half a century
ago, at the end of his avant-garde period, starting with Le
Gai savoir[1] (1969). His goal in doing so was to
dispense with the classic bourgeois narrative and employ extra-diegetic devices
such as film clips, intertitles, musical scores, photos, etc., even his own voice-over
commentary to address the audience. When The Image Book premiered at the Cannes Film Festival in 2018
it was awarded an honorary Palme d'Or by Jury President Cate Blanchett
for Godard’s effort “to define and redefine what cinema can beâ€.
Kino Lorber has released the film on DVD and Blu-ray. Bonus features
include interviews with researcher Nicole Brenez and producer Fabrice Aragno.
The conversation with Brenez at the 2019 International Film Festival Rotterdam
is conducted in heavily accented English and quickly becomes tedious. The
interview with Aragno in which he responds to clearly formulated questions in
much less heavily accented English is much more fluid. The accompanying essay
booklet features James Quandt's "Facing the Void: Jean-Luc Godard's Book
of Images" which provides some useful context for interpreting the film
but does presuppose some knowledge of Godard's recent output. And if one is
uninitiated then The Image
Bookis a great introduction to the late work
of one of the greatest and most seminal filmmakers alive today.
The James Bond film "Licence to Kill" opened in the summer of 1989. Although it was a hit worldwide, American grosses were anemic- at least by James Bond standards. The film marked Timothy Dalton's second and final appearance as 007 as the movie opened against a number of blockbuster films that saw it wither by comparison in terms of boxoffice. Critics were also largely unimpressed with the new, realistic tone of a revenge plot and a grim James Bond in a fairly humorless story. But some of us knew we were seeing something exciting an innovative here. Roger Moore had a very successful run over a twelve year period but even he admitted he went a film too far, bowing out after the goofy "A View to a Kill" in 1985. Dalton took over the reigns with "The Living Daylights" in 1987. Fans and critics seemed relieved to have a more realistic portrayal of Bond on the big screen. "Licence to Kill" dared to upset the formula completely, paving the way for Daniel Craig's somber version of Bond that premiered to wide acclaim in 2006. "Licence" is the Rodney Dangerfield of Bond movies: it don't get no respect. Many Bond fans loathe it but perhaps a critical reassessment is underway. The film is far from perfect and there are some loose ends that could have been improved, but Dalton is terrific, as is Robert Davi as his nemesis, Sanchez. It's also director John Glen's most assured achievement in the Bond canon. Writing in the Hollywood Reporter, Phil Pirrello provides a thoughtful and positive article about the film's ultimate impact on the franchise, albeit it the innovations were deemed to be unacceptable at the time. Click here to read.
Cinema Retro has received the following announcement:
Just in time for the holidays,
McFarland publications has released John Farkis’s latest book The Making of
Tombstone: Behind the Scenes of the Classic Modern Western. Which is only
appropriate as Disney/Buena Vista premiered this film on December 25, 1993, 25
years ago this month. While other books have been written about Wyatt Earp, Doc
Holliday, and the O.K. Corral, this is the only book written solely about the
making of that iconic film. With numerous behind-the-scene photos and
interviews from over 140 cast and crew members, stuntmen, extras, wranglers and
Buckaroos, this book is a virtual day-by-day summarization of how the film was
made. Starring Kurt Russell, Powers Boothe, Michael Biehn, Sam Elliott, Dana
Delany, Bill Paxton, and Val Kilmer in his Oscar-deserved role of Doc Holliday,
Tombstone is the story of Wyatt Earp, his brothers, Holliday, the Clantons and
McLaurys, and their tumultuous relationship, cumulating in the historic
gunfight at the O.K. Corral, and subsequent Vendetta ride.
Farkis details the stormy creation of
the project, from script development, financing and casting, to site location
and construction.Along the way, he also
explores Kevin Costner’s Wyatt Earp, which at the time, was in direct
production competition with Tombstone. In fact, Costner was
screenwriter/director Kevin Jarre’s first choice for the role of Wyatt. Known
for his screenplay of Glory (1989), Jarre was replaced early in filming by
action-director George Cosmatos. While extremely proud of their work on the
film, virtually everyone associated with the project said it was an extremely
tough, miserable experience. And Farkis details the trials and tribulations in
exquisite detail. With access to numerous script iterations, call-sheets, daily
production reports and internal communications, he unpacks the story behind the
story. Photographs supplied by cast and crew members serve to enhance this
experience. Not only does he explain the film’s concept and production, he also
describes the historical tale, from the founding of Tombstone, to the
conclusion of Earp’s Vendetta ride. And, he adds a postscript appendix of the
film’s recent 25th anniversary celebration.
Released on Monday, November26, this
book can currently be purchased through McFarland, Barnes & Noble, Amazon,
and numerous other sites. If one wishes to have a personalized autographed
copy, they can be ordered directly from the author. Jkfarkis@earthlink.net.
I
was three years-old when John Llewellyn Moxey’s The Night Stalker premiered on the ABC Movie of the Week on January
11, 1972 and it took me nearly twenty years to catch up with it on a late night
rerun on a local ABC-TV affiliate. Featuring the terrific late character actor
Darren McGavin in the role of Carl Kolchak, an intrepid reporter who wants to
print the truth regardless of what his editor says after finding himself in the
midst of several murders, The Night
Stalker, penned by the great Richard Matheson based on an unpublished
novel, is a delightful slice of early 1970s spooky entertainment fare that is
most definitely a product of a time that was populated by groovy music on the
radio, TV dinners, and little kids getting tossed around in the backs of mammoth
station wagons. The Las Vegas of 1971 when this movie was shot is much
different from the Las Vegas of 2018. For one thing, the bulk of filming takes
place in what is in present day known as the Fremont Street area. Much of Vega$, the television series starring
Robert Urich that ran from 1978 to 1981, was also filmed in this location as
well, so it will no doubt look familiar to viewers.
Kolchak
is like a cross between photographer Arthur (Usher) Fellig, better known as
Weegee, and Jeff Daniels’s Will Macavoy on HBO’s The Newsroom. He wants the scoop but he wants to tell it the way it
is: truthfully. We are introduced to him after the events have occurred and the
action is told in flashback as Kolchak, unshaven and nearly impecunious in a
run-down motel, is writing a book about the events that have happened. Someone,
or something, is stalking the
residents of Las Vegas and draining them of a portion of their blood. The
authorities (Kent Smith and Claude Akins) are keeping a tight rein on Kolchak
so as to avoid public embarrassment and panic. The suspect is Janos Skorzeny (Barry Atwater), a
creepy-looking man who bears a resemblance to Jonathan Frid of Dark Shadows fame.
Kolchak
gets into frequent and boisterous arguments with his editor Tony Vincenzo
(Simon Oakland, forever known as the deus
ex machina psychiatrist at the end of 1960’s Psycho) about letting people know the truth, especially if they are
in danger of dying at the hands of Skorzeny,
who appears to be a vampire following failed attempts to shoot him dead after
his break-in of a blood bank at a local hospital. Vincenzo wants to keep the
newspaper’s reputation clean and urges Kolchak not to print such events for
fear of frightening the public. Far from being the first television series to
deal with vampires, it exercises restraint in the depiction of violence against
women, though the results do not shy away from showing some blood – this was,
after all, the era of the televised Vietnam War. One of the earlier victims is
a young woman whose mother is played by actress Virginia Gregg, who provided
the voice of Mother in Psycho and Psycho II. Carol Lynley plays a
prostitute, though her profession is only alluded to in her introductory scenes.
She is a lady friend of Kolchak’s, with modern parlance applying the moniker of
“friends with benefits†to their relationship; she’s twenty years Kolchak’s
junior and urges him to read up on vampires. Kolchak eventually makes his way
to Skorzeny’s lair in an effort to
get the story on his own and uses standard items from his Anti -Vampire Kit
such as a crucifix and the sun through broken glass in an effort to kill him
(or it). A twist has Kolchak leaving
Vegas with his tail between his legs at the urging of the authorities, his
determination to tell the truth at its strongest when he ends up at the motel that
we saw him at the start.
Ingmar
Bergman’s celebrated six-part mini-series, Scenes
from a Marriage, premiered on Swedish television in 1973. For markets
outside of his native country, Bergman cut the 297-minute TV version down to
169-minutes (not quite three hours) for a theatrical release in 1974—which is
the version I first saw.
Having
recently discovered Bergman in the early 1970s while attending college, I
welcomed Scenes with enthusiasm and
awe, as did most critics. The film received numerous accolades, although the
Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences deemed the picture ineligible for
Oscars since it had previously been a television mini-series. The acclaim for
the film, director/writer Bergman, and the movie’s two brilliant actors, Liv
Ullmann and Erland Josephson, was through the roof.
In
a nutshell, it’s the intimate, often painful, sometimes joyful story of the
twenty-year relationship of a married-then-divorced couple. The tale begins in
1965. Upper-middle-class Marianne and Johan have been married for ten years.
They have two tween daughters (who are seen only very briefly in the first few
seconds of the picture) and are seemingly happy. However, when Johan has an
affair with “Paula†(who never appears), the inevitable separation ensues,
followed by a divorce. But as ten more years elapse, Marianne and Johan
continue to occasionally see each other—even when they’re dating or married to
others—in an ongoing, never-ending tryst.
In
fact, in 2003, Bergman made a sequel to Scenes
from a Marriage. Saraband was a
Swedish TV-movie that was also released theatrically worldwide, and it featured
the now elderly Marianne and Johan, again played by Ullmann and Josephson. (Oddly,
their daughters’ names in Scenes are
Karin and Eva, whereas in Saraband their
names are Martha and Sara! Go figure.) Saraband
was Bergman’s final film.
What
made Scenes so remarkable back in
1973/1974 was its frankness, realism, and the camera’s near-claustrophobic
closeness to the actors—especially their faces and what they revealed through
subtle expressions or glances. Bergman, perhaps more than any other filmmaker,
used the landscape of the face to reveal the genuine subtext of a character’s
thoughts. The intimacy achieved in the work was revelatory, and the film is
said to have gone on to influence other filmmakers (most notably Woody Allen).
I
had revisited Scenes from a Marriage a
few times since its first release, but now having the chance to dive into The
Criterion Collection’s new Blu-ray edition, I approached the picture with a
fresh eye and mind, especially informed by the experience of age and a long marriage
of my own.
I
came away this time a bit puzzled. Who are
these people, that they can be so matter-of-fact about adultery and
mistresses and lovers? It’s as if it’s taken for granted that all married
people will have affairs at some point. Back in the early 70s, I suppose we all
thought that this was being “civilized†or “behaving like adults.†Or perhaps
it was a Swedish or European thing!
It
is more likely, however, that Scenes from
a Marriage was written and directed to be a somewhat autobiographical
treatise. Ingmar Bergman was married no less than five times, had numerous love
affairs (and mistresses while married), including a five-year romance with Liv
Ullmann (he was the father of her only child). Maybe in his world, or in the contemporary universe of artists and the literati in which Marianne and Johan
reside, this kind of attitude existed.
“KUBRICK’S RIGHT-HAND
MAN…AND LEGS, SHOULDERS, OTHER HAND, ETC.â€
By Raymond Benson
Tony
Zierra’s fascinating documentary that premiered at Cannes in 2017 (and was released
theatrically in 2018) is about an unsung hero in the lore of legendary
filmmaker Stanley Kubrick—Leon Vitali, who describes himself not as an
“assistant,†but as a “filmworker.â€
Vitali,
now 70 years old, began his career as an actor in the 1960s, appearing in
various British films and television programs. After being impressed with
Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey and A Clockwork Orange, Vitali told a
friend, “I want to work for that guy.†He managed to get an audition for
Kubrick’s next picture, Barry Lyndon,
and landed the key role of Lord Bullingdon, the main antagonist of the film.
Vitali received much praise for his performance, but instead of continuing an
acting career, he made an extraordinary left turn. He asked Kubrick if he could
work behind the camera from then on.
Kubrick
grilled Vitali on his sincerity, and then he hired the actor as an additional
casting director for The Shining. Vitali’s
task was to go to America and find a little boy to play Danny in the classic
horror movie. (The young actor turned out to be Danny Lloyd, who, as an adult,
appears in Filmworker as a talking
head.)
Throughout
the making of The Shining, Vitali
served as little Danny’s handler and guardian, and ultimately began to perform
more tasks for the demanding filmmaker. For the next twenty-plus years, Vitali
learned every aspect of the filmmaking business, especially the color
correction processes for film that led to his overseeing the restoration of Kubrick’s
pictures, and many other jobs. In short, he became an indispensable ally and
assistant. As one interviewee put it, Vitali became Kubrick’s “right-hand man,
along with the other hand, the legs, the shoulders, body…†(He also played the
mysterious, masked “Red Cloak†leader of the orgy sequence in Eyes Wide Shut.)
Filmworker takes the viewer
through Vitali’s years with Kubrick, commented upon by the likes of Ryan
O’Neal, Matthew Modine, Danny Lloyd, Lee Ermey, Marie Richardson, Stellan
Skarsgård, and others, plus film executives Julian
Senior, Brian Jamieson, the late Steve Southgate, and Vitali’s family. We learn
a lot about Kubrick’s process, as well as what kind of person he was. While it’s well-known that the filmmaker was a
perfectionist, few realize that he was a genuinely warm, soft-spoken,
animal-loving man.
Kino
Lorber’s new DVD comes with 5.1 Surround sound, the theatrical trailer, and a
supplement Q&A with Vitali and director Zierra.
Filmworker is a must for the
Stanley Kubrick fan, and, in general, for students and devotees of filmmaking.
Alfred
Sole is a production designer who has carved out a nice career for himself in
Hollywood, most notably on the television shows Veronica Mars (2004-7), Castle
(2009-16), and the reboot of MacGyver
(2017-18). Long before he chose that line of work however, he dabbled in the
world of film directing. His first film, the 1972 hardcore sex “comedy†Deep Sleep, must be seen to be believed
because despite a few flourishes of cinematic style and several humorous
sequences involving dialogue, it’s just a hardcore sex romp featuring folks no
one in their right mind would want to see naked let alone copulating. There is
absolutely nothing in this film to suggest that he would next direct one of the
greatest and most thematically disturbing thrillers of our time, 1976’s Communion, not to be confused with the
Christopher Walken/alien-probe-up-the-old-dirt-road 1989 outing based on Whitley
Strieber’s 1987 “non-fiction†book of the same name. His subsequent films,
1980’s Tanya’s Island with the late
and impossibly gorgeous Denise Matthews (credited as “D.D. Wintersâ€) and 1982’s
star-studded comedy Pandemonium both
fared poorly at the box office, hence his career change. Thankfully Communion, with its high cinematic style
and deceptively low production budget, refused to die.
In
her screen debut, Brooke Shields plays Karen Spages (rhymes with “pagesâ€), the
younger sister of Alice Spages, the latter brilliantly portrayed by New
Jersey-born actress Paula Sheppard. Karen is favored by everyone around her and
can do no wrong, mostly because Alice is a, forgive the pun, holy terror. Alice
teases Karen, locks her in a building to scare her, and mistreats her communion
veil. Why the horseplay? Alice was conceived out of wedlock and is not entitled
to receive the Holy Eucharist. As if this is her fault.
On
the day of her first communion Karen is brutally murdered right in the church
and all suspicion points to her sister after she finds the discarded veil and
wears it to the altar. This sets in motion some truly well-acted scenes wherein
the identity of the killer is constantly in question. Everyone suspects Alice,
even her neighbor Mr. Alphonse (Alphonse DeNoble), an obese monstrosity you
must see to believe. Karen and Alice’s mother Catherine (Linda Miller) is
grief-stricken and meets her ex-husband Dom (Niles McMaster) at the funeral. Afterwards,
there are suspicions about Alice’s whereabouts during Karen’s murder and Alice
submits to a polygraph which she mischievously pushes on to the floor. Her Aunt
Annie (Jane Lowry) battles with her sister and the latter accuses her of hating
Alice because of her sinful status. Annie refutes this until she herself is
attacked in a shockingly bloody sequence and fully believes that Alice is the
killer.
Alice takes place circa 1961 as evinced by the production design,
the old-style cars, the calendar on the wall, and the prevalence of a poster of
Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960) that
can be seen if one really looks for it. Originally reviled amid concerns that
it’s an attack against the Catholic Church (how can it not be?), the film was
met with lukewarm box office. Director Sole was rumored to have stated that the
church was simply the milieu he wanted to set the story against, but the
commentary infers otherwise. It’s one of the most Catholic-themed films I’ve
ever seen, even more so than William Friedkin’s The Exorcist (1973). It has a look, a feel, and an atmosphere all
its own. This film is quite simply one of the best low-budget American horror
films ever made. It boasts a superbly eerie score by Stephen Lawrence who scored
a handful of other films. Yours Truly has been wishing for a soundtrack album
of this music for years, however one has yet to surface. Great editing,
wonderful set design, and excellent music all come together to make Alice an enjoyable shocker that can
easily be viewed more than several times.
This
film has had a strange history. Filmed in Mr. Sole’s hometown of Paterson, NJ
in the summer of 1975, Alice
premiered in Paterson (Lou Costello’s old stomping grounds) under its original
title Communion on Saturday, November
13, 1976 at the Fabian Theater (now the Fabian Building). The event was met
with much fanfare, however a subsequent theatrical release failed to stir much
interest. Communion was dropped by
the original distributor, picked up by another, retitled Alice, Sweet Alice, re-cut and
redistributed in 1981 as Holy Terror
and played up Ms. Shields’s participation in response to the success of the
previous year’s The Blue Lagoon. It
then made its way to cable television and local independent stations where the
bulk of us caught up with it. Later on it was relegated to VHS collecting dust
in discount bins beginning in 1985 with Goodtimes Home Video, seemingly forever
to be lost within the public domain due to a legal snafu. I bought it for ten
dollars, which was unheard of in an era when the MSRP on a VHS tape was roughly
eighty dollars. In 1998, the film received a laserdisc release from the Roan
Group which sported a highly entertaining audio commentary from director Sole
and the film’s editor, Edward
Salier. The film was given two DVD releases later on, which ported over the
commentary. Even without the benefit of Sole's discussion, one can
easily see the influence that Nicolas Roeg's astonishing Don’t Look Now (1973) has on this
film.
I
love it when The Criterion Collection produces a lavish boxed set containing
multiple features, an abundance of supplements, and a thick and illustrated
booklet. What better collection is there than one featuring the six Hollywood
films made between 1930 and 1935 by Josef von Sternberg and starring the
exquisite Marlene Dietrich? Hats off to producer Issa Clubb for overseeing what
could be one of Criterion’s better products.
These
adventure-romances showcased a star who immediately defined the word “exoticâ€â€”a
German-born, English-speaking, beautiful, sultry, seductress who could act,
sing, and dance. Like Greta Garbo, who had arrived in Hollywood during the
silent era, Marlene Dietrich exhibited a European mystery to American audiences
of the early Depression years. Her self-styled (with the help of her trusted
director, von Sternberg) gender-bending wardrobes and mannerisms, her sometimes
ambiguous but often overt sexuality, and her allure of “knowing something we
didn’t†made her an overnight star… for a while.
As
documented in the various supplements that appear over the six Blu-ray disks in
the set, Dietrich and von Sternberg enjoyed a successful and acclaimed period
during the Pre-Code days. It seemed, though, that as soon as the Production
Code went into effect in July 1934, the popularity of the star and the
director’s films waned. For the second half of the 1930s, Dietrich, like
several other leading ladies, became what was termed “box-office poisonâ€â€”that
is, until she made a booming come-back in 1939’s Destry Rides Again.
Dietrich
and von Sternberg first worked together in the 1930 German-produced picture, The Blue Angel, which was filmed in both
the German language and in English. The director, already an established filmmaker
in Hollywood, convinced his studio, Paramount, to bring Dietrich over and sign
her to a multi-picture contract. The young star left Germany on the night The Blue Angel premiered in her native
country. Paramount held the U.S. release back until after the exhibition of her
first official Hollywood production, Morocco
(also 1930). This initial appearance in America proved to be a sensation. The
English-language version of The Blue
Angel was released a month later, and Marlene Dietrich had arrived.
The
historical importance of the films in Criterion’s new collection can be broken
down into three words—light, shadow, and Marlene. Josef von Sternberg was a
master of visual imagery in motion pictures at a time when black and white
cinematography was evolving as an art form. A cameraman himself, he was one of
the few directors in Hollywood who knew how to light a set and photograph it
(in fact, he is not only the director but also the cinematographer of the sixth
title in this set, The Devil is a Woman).
Von Sternberg’s use of German expressionism—heavy on the shadows, high contrast
between light and dark—did wonders for Marlene Dietrich’s cheekbones. An
actress was likely never photographed so beautifully as in those first few
films—not even Garbo. The greatest pleasure of the Dietrich & von Sternberg
boxed set is the gorgeousness of its images. While von Sternberg certainly had
much to say about how his films were photographed, many kudos must be given to
the other two cinematographers he worked with—Lee Garmes (three titles) and
Bert Glennon (two titles).
Cinema Retro has received the following press release:
It Happened
Here
A film by
Kevin Brownlow &
Andrew Mollo
Dual Format
Edition release, 23 July 2018
Kevin Brownlow and Andrew Mollo’s immensely
powerful It Happened Here
depicts an alternative history in which England has been invaded and occupied
by Nazi Germany. Coming to Blu-ray for the first time, on 23 July 2018,
the film is presented in a new 2K remaster (from the original camera negative) by
the BFI National Archive, supervised by Kevin Brownlow, to mark his 80th
birthday. A raft of exceptional extras include previously unseen
behind-the-scenes footage, new interviews, news items, trailers and more.
‘The German invasion of England took place in July
1940 after the British retreat from Dunkirk. Strongly resisted at first, the
German army took months to restore order, but the resistance movement, lacking
outside support, was finally crushed. Then, in 1944, it reappeared.’
That is what happened when history was rewritten:
Nazi Germany has won the Second World War and England is under occupation. Kevin
Brownlow was only 18 when he and Andrew Mollo – just 16 – embarked on this
ambitious neorealist-tinged drama, which took eight years to complete, helped
along by financial support from Tony Richardson (Woodfall Films). Shot on both
16mm and 35mm, with a mainly amateur cast and with incredible attention to
detail, the impressively polished result is a chilling and timely reminder of
what might have been had Nazism not been defeated.
The newly remastered film will be premiered
on the big screen at a special Blu-ray/DVD launch event at BFI Southbank on its
release date, Monday 23 Julyat 6.00pm, followed by a discussion with Kevin
Brownlow and Andrew Mollo. More
details and tickets from www.bfi.org.uk/southbank
Special
features
·Presented in
High Definition and Standard Definition
·Mirror on the World (1962, 10
mins): full version of fake German newsreel
·It Happened Here: Behind the Scenes (1956-66,22 mins):
previously unseen footage with a new commentary by Kevin Brownlow
·Original UK and
US trailers (1966)
·It Happened Here Again (1976, 7 mins): excerpt from a documentary on Winstanley
·Interview
excerpt with the directors(2009, 2
mins)
·The Conquest of London (1964/2005, 4 mins): Italian TV item
·On Set With Brownlow and Mollo (2018, 12 mins):interview
with Production Assistant Johanna Roeber
·Kevin Brownlow Remembers It Happened Here (2018, 65 mins)
·Image gallery
·Introduction to How It Happened Here: text of David Robinson’s foreword to the book (Downloadable PDF –
DVD only)
·Illustrated
booklet with writing by Kevin Brownlow and new essays by Dr Josephine Botting,
DoP Peter Suschitzky and military historian EWW Fowler
Product
details
RRP: £19.99/ Cat. no. BFIB1298 / Cert PG
UK
/ 1964 / black and white / 100 mins / English language, with optional
hard-of-hearing subtitles / original aspect ratio 1.33:1 / BD50: 1080p, 24fps,
PCM 1.0 mono audio (48kHz/24-bit) / DVD9: PAL, 25fps, Dolby Digital 1.0 mono
audio (192kbps)
In the
summer of 1992 I visited a neighborhood thrift store that rented obscure videos
of movies made all over the world. Foreign films on laserdisc imported from
Japan were transferred to VHS and rented long before “online downloading†became
a household term. One of the films was relatively new yet unfamiliar to me
although the cover art featured actress Jennifer Connelly on it. I already knew
of her from her roles in Dario Argento’s Phenomena
(1985), Seven Minutes in Heaven
(1985), Labyrinth (1986), Some Girls (1988), and The Hot (yowzah) Spot (1990), but this title looked quite different. Etoile, the French word for “starâ€, is
the title of director Peter Del Monte’s relatively unknown and overlong 1989
dramatic thriller that easily calls to mind Darren Aronofsky’s superior Black Swan (2010) due to its theme of a
troubled ballerina. I would almost consider Etoile
to be a “lost†Jennifer Connelly film in that most people are unaware of it. Even
this video tribute to her
on Youtube skips it completely. Although Italian and filmed in spoken
English, the film was not released in either Italy or the United States. Ms. Connelly, who premiered at the age of twelve in Sergio
Leone’s Once Upon a Time in America
(1984) as a dancer, plays Claire, a New York-based ballerina visiting Budapest
to audition for Swan Lake. Like in
the opening of Phenomena, her
character is arriving in a foreign land by way of aviation and finally by taxi.
She bumps into a fellow New Yorker named Jason (Gary McCleery) after dropping
her slipper in the hotel she is staying at. He’s instantly smitten with her,
and who wouldn’t be? At just seventeen, Ms. Connelly is utterly breathtaking. The
ballet school is run by Marius Balakin (Laurent Terzieff, who bears a striking
resemblance to Pierre Clementi for those Bertolucci fans of you out there). Claire
ventures out into an old, decrepit theater and dances alone until she locks
eyes with Balakin who is sitting in a seat, looking around at the theater. She
bolts. In the meantime, Jason is learning the antiques business from his Uncle
Joshua (an unlikely Charles Durning), but cannot stop thinking about Claire and
sneaks off, accompanying her on a sojourn to an abandoned old house that used
to belong to a ballerina who danced in Swan
Lake. Compelled to succeed, Claire decides to audition.
At
this point the film takes a turn into seemingly supernatural territory when
Claire finds flowers delivered to her room and addressed to “Natalieâ€. Despite
her best efforts, she cannot locate anyone else in the hotel with that name. In
the middle of the night, she receives a visit from her teacher’s choreographer
and another dancer; understandably freaked out, she then decides to return to
New York. While at the airport, a P.A. page for a one “Natalie Horvath†sends
her into a trance and she almost willingly assumes the “role†of this person
and transforms into a ballerina, with no memory of Claire, her former self. Jason
locates her sitting by a lake and is hurt and bewildered by her demeanor and
failure to recognize him. Determined to get to the bottom of this, he goes to
great lengths to uncover this very obvious transformation that he is powerless
to explain let alone comprehend.
Director
Peter Del Monte’s best-known film to Americans is indubitably Julia and Julia, the 1987 Sting-Kathleen
Turner outing that was touted as the first film to be shot in high definition
(it was later transferred to 35mm for theatrical exhibition). The premise of
that film also called into mind the sanity of the protagonist, however here
Claire merely appears to be a confused and unwilling participant in a world
that simply pulls her into it. Although Claire and Jason’s love story isn’t
very compelling, I couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him and ended up rooting
for him. The ending is trite, even by the director’s own admission, which he
found unsatisfying. Jurgen Knieper, the film’s composer who has done some
wonderful work for Wim Wenders, provides a very effective and haunting score
that remained with me days after seeing the film, in particular the main theme.
The cinematography is also quite stellar as Acácio de Almeida’s camera reveals much
more than the laserdisc ever showed, mostly because this new transfer to DVD is
made from a new 2K scan of the original film elements with extensive color
correction performed. The image is framed at 1.85:1.
The
DVD from Scorpion has several extras. First up is an eighteen-minute interview with the
film’s director who discusses the challenges that he was forced to deal with
while making the film. He took the job as the producer gave him an advance,
which is something that he never had before. However, there were many
disagreements regarding the film’s tone, etc.
The
second extra is an on-screen interview with the film’s executive producer, Claudio
Mancini, who has far less positive things to say about the cast and the whole
experience. This runs just shy of ten minutes.
The
final section contains trailers for the following films: Etoile (1989), Barbarosa
(1981), City on Fire (1979), Steaming (1985), and Ten Little Indians (1974).
I
would recommend Etoile wholeheartedly
to Jennifer Connelly completists.
Harold
Pinter was one of the groundbreaking playwrights that emerged out of the 1950s,
along with Samuel Beckett, Eugene Ionesco, and a handful of others. They changed
the landscape of what audiences could expect on the stage. Pinter’s first
decade of remarkable plays (and a few screenplays) fall into a category dubbed
by critics as “comedies of menace.†They feature (usually) working-class
Britons in situations in which an ambiguous threat lies underneath the surface
of an otherwise mundane existence. The subtext
is everything in a Pinter play. Known for the pauses in dialogue
(specifically designated in the scripts), Pinter was able to pack weighty
meaning in what is not said, more so
than perhaps any other modern playwright.
The Birthday Party was his first
full-length play (written in 1957, premiered in 1958) and is one of his
most-produced and well-known works—although probably not so much by anyone who
isn’t an aficionado of the theatre. You’re not going to see a production of The Birthday Party at your local high
school. The Homecoming (1967) won
Pinter the Tony Award, and, for my money, is his greatest work (it was
brilliantly filmed by Peter Hall in 1973 for the American Film Theatre
experiment). As a screenwriter, Pinter’s work on The French Lieutenant’s Woman (1981) and Betrayal (1983) received Oscar nominations, and he received the
Nobel Prize shortly before his death.
Young
filmmaker William Friedkin, who had yet to make The French Connection and The
Exorcist, had seen a production of The
Birthday Party in England in the early 60s and, by his account, was knocked
out by it. He personally met with Pinter to convince the elusive playwright to
allow him to adapt the play into a film. It took some doing, but finally Pinter
relented and wrote the screenplay himself. The picture was produced on a
shoestring budget, but Friedkin managed to employ several outstanding British
actors—many of whom were already a part of Pinter’s unofficial “repertory
company.â€
For
those familiar with Pinter, the results are outstanding. For everyone else—The Birthday Party could very well be a
bewildering experience.
Robert
Shaw stars as Stanley, a nervous boarder in a seaside village rooming house run
by Meg (Dandy Nichols) and Petey (Moultrie Kelsall). It may—or may not
be!—Stanley’s birthday. Enter two mysterious new boarders, Goldberg (Sydney
Tafler) and McCann (Patrick Magee), whom we know have an agenda with Stanley
but we’re never sure what it really is. We just know it’s a threat, and they
make things very uncomfortable for him… and the audience. Shaw and Magee,
especially, deliver riveting performances.
To
say more would be a disservice to the viewer and to Pinter, for much of the
power of The Birthday Party is its
mystery and ambiguity. Just know that by embarking on this journey you will be
entering a heightened realism in which characters never say what they mean and what
they don’t say means more. As an adaptation of Pinter’s play, Friedkin’s The Birthday Party is quite faithful and
potent.
Kino
Lorber’s new Blu-ray presents a 1080p transfer that looks fair enough for its
age and intentionally drab cinematography and setting. The nearly half-hour supplemental
interview with director Friedkin is fascinating—he relates the entire history
of how he got involved with Pinter and the film, and he throws in anecdotes
about the playwright and a few other characters (like Joseph Losey). Theatrical
trailers for this and other Kino Lorber releases—many related to Pinter—are
also included.
The Birthday Party will certainly be
appreciated by those of us who were theatre majors many years ago, and by the
art house cinema crowd. For others, the picture might be an acquired taste.
When No
Orchids for Miss Blandish premiered in London in 1948, it created controversy
that extended all the way to British Parliament. The Monthly Film Bulletin called the movie “the most sickening
exhibition of brutality, perversion and sex ever shown on a cinema screen.†The Saturday Pictorial called it “a
piece of nauseating muck.†The Observer’s
reviewer wrote: “This film has all the morals of an alley cat and the sweetness
of a sewer.†Some politicians were also offended. The Parliamentary Secretary
to the Ministry of Food said that the film “was likely to pervert the minds of
the British people.†Eventually, the British Board of Film Censors was
compelled to offer an apology for approving the film’s production.
Attempts to release the movie in the United
States by distributor Richard Gordon were met with threats by the New York
Censor Board as well as the Customs Department to confiscate it. Gordon had to
bring the movie into the country through New Orleans but it would still take three
years of bargaining and the removal of 12 minutes of objectionable scenes to
obtain approval for exhibition. Nevertheless, the edited version was still greeted
with harsh reviews. Time called it,
“ludicrous claptrap from a claptrap novel.†The
New York Times chastised it as “an awkward attempt on the part of the English
to imitate Hollywood’s gangster formula.â€
The critical disdain has never stopped. In
the multi-volume reference work, The
Motion PictureGuide,Jay Robert Nash and Stanley Ralph Ross
write “This a sick exercise in sadism (and) is about as wretched as they come.â€
The annual Halliwell’sFilm Guide summarizes the movie as “hilariously
awful (and) one of the worst films ever made.â€
The movie is based upon the 1939 novel of the
same name by British author James Hadley Chase that was called everything from pulp
trash to borderline pornography. When it was published in America three years
later, it received equally terrible reviews with many critics accusing the
author of plagiarizing William Faulkner’s 1931 novel, Sanctuary. The novel concerns the daughter of a wealthy Kansas City
businessman who is kidnapped by the notorious Grisson gang, led my Ma Grisson
and her psychopathic son, Slim; she is subsequently subjected to repeated rapes
by Slim while in a drug-induced stupor. (Note: when Robert Aldrich directed his
film version in 1971, he changed the name from Grisson to Grissom for The Grissom Gang.)
After several attempts to film the novel were
aborted by the BFFC, producer George Minter signed playwright St. John Clowes
to write a script that eventually was approved. The script eliminated much of the
novel’s sleaze but, as it turned out, not enough. Clowes, who had directed one
previous film, also signed on to direct. Casting proved to be difficult because
of the novel’s notoriety. After several Hollywood actresses refused the role,
Minter signed British actress Linden Travers who had played Miss Blandish in
the London stage version which had been a huge success in 1942. (As in the
novel, Miss Blandish’s first name is never revealed.) For the role of Slim
Grisson, Minter hired Hollywood actor Jack La Rue whose most famous role had ironically
been as the gangster/rapist called Trigger in The Story of Temple Drake, the 1933 film version of Sanctuary. Due to that film’s infamy, La
Rue’s career had subsequently stalled and he had been reduced to playing bit
parts until he accepted the role of Slim Grisson.
Clowes changes the setting of the story from
1930s Kansas City to 1940s New York City and converts the sordid tale into a
love story. Slim Grisson is still a killer but is also a sensitive gangster who
has always had a torch for the heiress. Instead of being held prisoner and
sexually abused, Miss Blandish chooses to voluntarily stay with her captor and
become his lover. The other members of the Grisson gang remain murderous thugs who
become furious over Slim’s refusal to demand ransom from his paramour’s father;
this will lead to carnage within the gang. Mr. Blandish also undergoes some
changes from a cold patriarch to a caring father who longs for his daughter’s
return. Dave Fenner, the private detective of the novel, becomes a
wise-cracking reporter who discovers the culpability of the Grisson gang and
becomes their target. Meanwhile, the police are determined to end the gang’s
reign of terror. With all of these forces against their alliance, the lovers’
plan to escape to another country is doomed.
Regarding the controversy, the film contains numerous
scenes of depraved criminals committing acts of brutality along with periodic
scenes of suggestive sexual interludes among various characters. What particularly
shocked British gentry was the suggestion that an aristocratic woman would not
only voluntarily elect to have a sexual relationship with someone beneath her
social class but would actually enjoy it. This was simply unacceptable. Also, the
film’s depiction of a gang of killers with no redeeming qualities angered
social reformers who believed that lawbreakers were products of their
environment and could be rehabilitated if taken away from such milieu. Furthermore,
many British film critics disapproved of the popularity of Hollywood gangster
films and resented the idea of a home-based film emulating this despised genre.
Thus, the condemnation of the film was at least in part due to factors other
than the quality of the movie.
Kino Lorber continues to produce special edition Blu-rays of obscure titles that are under most movie fans' radar screens. Case in point: "Nightkill", a little-remembered thriller made in 1980 for theatrical release but which ultimately "premiered" on television, much to the consternation of all involved. Ironically, the movie has the look and feel of a TV production with the notable difference of some disturbing images that were probably edited down for broadcast standards. Thus, the Kino Lorber edition is probably the first opportunity to see the original cut of the film, as it apparently was not released to theaters. The plot is "Diabolique" by way of Alfred Hitchcock. Jaclyn Smith, then riding high from her long-running role as one of Charlie's Angels, is cast as Katherine Atwell, a socialite living in Phoenix and living what appears to be a charmed life. She resides in a hilltop mansion and is the toast of the town because of a charitable foundation she has founded. There is one major caveat: her husband Wendell (Mike Connors) is a boorish rich snob with a violent temper who enjoys demeaning everyone in his circle of influence. He is particularly tough on his long-suffering corporate major domo Steve Fulton (James Franciscus), who must endure Wendell's cynical comments and outbursts. Katherine has come to hate her husband. Their marriage is a loveless one based on mutual convenience: he gets a trophy wife he can parade around as arm candy and she gets a lavish lifestyle and funding for her charity. However, she is frustrated by her loveless, sexless marriage and has taken up a secret torrid affair with Steve Fulton. One sunny afternoon, Katherine, Steve and Wendell are gathered in the Atwell's living room. Steve makes a drink for his boss, who promptly keels over and dies a painful death. Without having given Katherine any advance warning, Steve had poisoned Wendell. He tells the understandably panicky Katherine of his game plan: they will secrete Wendell's body in a large freezer inside the house, then collect a briefcase containing a million dollars that is being stored at an airport locker and fly off to another country so they can live the high life together. Katherine is tempted to alert the authorities, but ultimately decides to go along with Steve's plan. She soon regrets it. When Steve doesn't show up for their planned getaway, Katherine begins to worry. She goes through the arduous task of disposing of her husband's body in an abandoned mine shaft but later believes she sees him alive in various places. In the film's only absurd scene, a car that appears to be driven by her dead husband pursues her in a dangerous chase that she narrowly escapes from. It gets worse. When she opens the freezer that once held her husband's body, she gets another shocking surprise that I won't reveal here. Adding to the pressure is a bothersome detective (Robert Mitchum) who shows up at awkward times and asks increasingly awkward questions about her husband's whereabouts.
"Nightkill" was directed by Ted Post, a seasoned pro when it came to helming undistinguished-but-entertaining fare both on television and in feature films. (His best theatrical films were "Hang 'Em High", "Beneath the Planet of the Apes" and "Magnum Force".) Post was primarily at home in the television medium and perhaps that's why the movie has the look and feel of a TV production. Post didn't believe in artsy camera shots or other gimmicks. He shot in a basic style that didn't allow for distractions from the action on screen. He milks some suspense out of a sometimes cliched script that borrows too much from other sources. "Nightkill" may be middling in some aspects but it does take some unexpected turns concerning the motivations of the main characters. Jaclyn Smith gives an outstanding performance as the harried and distressed protagonist. The film is sprinkled with other interesting actors and performances. Mike Connors excels at playing against his good guy image as a rotten lout, Fritz Weaver has an unusually flamboyant character to play as a snobby lawyer who has the hots for Katherine, even though he is married to her best friend (Sybil Danning in a role that refreshingly doesn't require her to doff her clothes). Mitchum is his usual cool-as-a-cucumber self as the detective who may or may not be who he claims to be. The Arizona locations are a refreshing change of pace and the film keeps a zesty pace under Post's direction, right up until the rather surprising ending which some viewers may find unsatisfying. The most memorable scene involves yet another "woman in the shower in jeopardy" scene but with a disturbing twist that doesn't involve anyone attacking her.
To celebrate the 40th anniversary of the classic TV series "The Incredible Hulk", Cinema Retro's Ernie Magnotta sat down for an extensive discussion with the show's creator Kenneth Johnson.
BY ERNIE MAGNOTTA
Dr. David
Banner—physician, scientist…searching for a way to tap into the hidden strengths that all humans
have. Then, an accidental overdose of gamma radiation alters his body chemistry.
And now, when David Banner grows angry or outraged, a startling metamorphosis
occurs.
The creature is
driven by rage and is pursued by an investigative reporter. The creature is
wanted for a murder he didn’t commit. David Banner is believed to be dead. And
he must let the world think that he is dead until he can find a way to control
the raging spirit that dwells within him.
Kids who grew up in the 1970s remember that
narration well. Every Friday night at 9pm (until it was later moved to 8pm) we’d
sit in front of our television sets, switch on CBS channel 2 and listen to the
late, great Ted Cassidy (Lurch from The
Addams Family) recite those very words before another exciting, hour-long
episode of The Incredible Hulk TV
series would begin. However, before there was a series, there were two very
successful made-for-TV movies, and before that, a very popular comic book.
The character of the Hulk was created in 1962
by legendary Marvel Comics masterminds Stan Lee (writer) and Jack Kirby
(artist). In the comic book, Dr. Bruce Banner was a nuclear scientist for the
United States Army who, while trying to save a teenager who wandered onto a
test site, was accidently bathed in gamma rays when a bomb he created was
detonated. This forever caused the mild-mannered scientist to change into a
hulking green-skinned creature whenever he became enraged. (The first few
stories had him change whenever the moon was full just like a werewolf. Also,
his skin was originally grey.) Most of the exciting comic book tales revolved
around Army General Thunderbolt Ross’s obsessive need to find and capture the
destructive, but good-hearted Hulk who he felt was a danger to the country he
had sworn to protect.
Flash forward 15 years. After achieving great
success writing and directing episodes of the super-popular cyborg television
series The Six Million Dollar Man as
well as creating and producing its sister show The Bionic Woman, Kenneth Johnson received a call from Universal
Television head Frank Price. Price, who had just acquired the rights to five
Marvel Comics superhero titles, asked Johnson to pick one that he’d like to
develop for TV, but Johnson, who was not a comic book follower, declined.
However, while reading Victor Hugo’s Les
Miserables, Johnson thought about how he could combine the structure of
that book with the characters of Bruce Banner and the Hulk while, at the same
time, going for a more realistic approach than the comic book.
First of all, Johnson knew that he didn’t
want any connection to comic book styles and, so, he immediately eliminated
everything from the comics except for the main character of Banner (which he
renamed David in order to avoid comic book alliteration) and the fact that, due
to radiation poisoning, he metamorphoses into a hulking green creature whenever
he becomes angry or endures great pain. (Johnson originally wanted to change
the Hulk’s skin color to red, but Marvel vetoed the idea due to the already
well-known look of their popular comic book character.) He then eliminated
scientist Banner’s ties to the military and, instead, made him a California
physician who was desperately trying to uncover the secret as to why, while
trying to save another human life, certain people acquired almost superhuman
strength while others did not (like himself when, after a car accident, he
failed to turn over the flaming automobile and save his beloved wife). Also,
Johnson not only eliminated the Hulk’s Tarzan-like
speech and, except for growls, kept the creature mute, but, in order to
maintain as much realism as possible, he made the Hulk less powerful than the
indestructible creature in the comics.
Kenneth Johnson (center) with Bill Bixby and Lou Ferrigno.
Banner (played brilliantly by two-time Emmy
Award nominee Bill Bixby who was Johnson’s first and only choice for the role)
soon discovers that the answer is due to having a low Gamma count, so he
immediately takes a higher dose. Unbeknownst to him, the equipment he used was
calibrated incorrectly and he wound up taking a much higher dose than
originally planned. This causes the change into an incredibly powerful, almost
Cro-Magnon-like, green-skinned creature that, although destructive, retains
Banner’s benevolence and does not kill (although, one day, it could
inadvertently kill someone which is Banner’s biggest fear). Johnson added an
Inspector Javert-like character in the form of tabloid reporter Jack McGee
(played by talented character actor and acting teacher Jack Colvin) who becomes
obsessed with learning about and capturing the Hulk (portrayed by legendary
bodybuilding champion Lou Ferrigno). Due to McGee’s zeal as well as Banner’s
burning desire for a cure, the good doctor’s colleague and unrequited love, Dr.
Elaina Marks (played beautifully by Susan Sullivan), is accidentally killed in
a lab explosion. However, McGee believes that Elaina (and Banner) was murdered
by the creature and, after informing the authorities, a warrant for murder is
put out for the Hulk. David Banner (a character with similarities to Jean
Valjean), now believed to be dead, begins to travel the country in search of a
cure while, at the same time, doing his best to avoid transforming into the
green-skinned goliath; for the transformations bring the intrepid Mr. McGee who
is always just one step behind him.
An intriguing, solid and perfect set-up for a
television series (and one that was used several times before in shows like
Quinn Martin’s classic series The
Fugitive starring David Janssen and The
Immortal starring Christopher George; both of which contain the Les Miserables structure of a benevolent
man on the run being pursued by a relentless authority figure). However, before
going to series, there would be a second TV-Movie of the week titled The Return of the Incredible Hulk (aka Death in the Family) which aired on
November 27th, 1977 (just weeks after the amazing (and just discussed)
original pilot, The Incredible Hulk,
which aired on Friday, November 4th, 1977). This entertaining movie
showed exactly how the future series episodes would play out. Banner, under an
assumed surname always beginning with the letter ‘B’, arrives in town looking
for work while simultaneously searching for a cure. He gets involved with other
people’s dilemmas, honestly tries to help them and, before long, is made to
change into his hulking alter ego who ultimately winds up saving the day (and,
many times, Banner’s life). More often than not, Mr. Magee shows up after the
first transformation (in the hour-long episodes, Banner always transforms
twice, but here (in a two-hour movie) he metamorphoses four times) and Banner
has the added headache of staying out of sight while the reporter is around.
After saying his goodbyes to those he’s helped, a usually penniless Banner
takes off alone, hitchhiking his way to a new town where he will continue to
search of a cure, help those in need and avoid contact with McGee and the
authorities.
Frederick
Knott's suspense play "Wait Until Dark" premiered on Broadway on Feb. 2,
1966. Lee Remick played Susy Hendrix, a
young blind woman who becomes the target of a manipulative scheme orchestrated
by a sinisterly glib psychopath, Harry Roat Jr. from Scarsdale. Robert Duvall, in his Broadway debut, had the
pivotal supporting role of Roat. A movie
version opened on Oct. 26, 1967, starring Audrey Hepburn (in an Oscar-nominated
performance) as Susy and Alan Arkin as
Roat, produced by Mel Ferrer (Hepburn's husband at the time), directed by
Terence Young, and scored by Henry Mancini. A predecessor of today's popular, trickily plotted suspense movies like
"Gone Gir" (2014) and "The Girl on the Train" (2016), the film was a
commercial and critical success, ranking number sixteen in box-office returns
for the year. Movies
adapted from plays often feel stage-bound, but "Wait Until Dark"
avoids those constraints, thanks in no small part to Young's fine
pacing, sharp eye for detail, and sure grasp of character.
Bosley
Crowther's October 27, 1967, film review in the New York Times noted that the
Radio City Music Hall screening of "Wait Until Dark" included a stage show with
a ballet troupe, performing dogs, and the Rockettes. Fifty years later, going out to a movie,
you're lucky to get a good seat and decently lit projection for the price of
admission. Any live entertainment comes
courtesy of the patrons behind you who can't put away their smartphones for two
hours.
Knott's play was confined to one interior set, Susy's cramped Greenwich Village
apartment, which makes it a perennial favorite for little-theater and
high-school drama productions on limited budgets. The movie adds a new opening scene in which
Sus's husband Sam (Efrem Zimbalist Jr.), a freelance photographer, meets an
attractive young woman, Lisa, as they board a flight from Montreal. When they land at JFK, Lisa hands Sam a
child's doll and asks him to hold on to it for her temporarily. She says it's a present for the child of a
friend, she just learned that the friend and the little girl will be meeting
her at the airport, and she doesn't want to spoil the surprise; she'll call and
come by for it later. Unknown to the
obliging Sam, it's a phony story: Lisa is a drug mule, and narcotics are hidden
inside the doll.
Lisa
had planned to double-cross her accomplice Roat and split the money from the
drug shipment with Mike (Richard Crenna) and Carlino (Jack Weston), her
partners in past criminal schemes. Roat
murders Lisa and enlists Mike and Carlino to help him find the doll in Susy and
Sam's apartment. He lures Sam away with
a call promising a big photo assignment. In his absence, Mike poses as an old Army friend of Sam's, and Carlino
impersonates a detective investigating Lisa's murder. In a bad guy/good guy ploy, the phony Detective Sgt. Carlino insinuates that he suspects Sam of Lisa's murder. Mike intervenes, offering his support to Susy
to gain her trust. To further disorient
Susy, Roat poses as two men who appear to lend credence to the con.Harry Roat Sr., an an aggressive old man,
barges into the apartment, noisily claiming to be in search of evidence that
Lisa, his daughter-in-law, carried on a clandestine affair with Sam. Later, mild-mannered Harry Roat Jr. knocks
on the door and apologizes for his father's outburst. It's a nice gimmick for Alan Arkin, who gets
to impersonate three characters with different costumes and personalities. For audiences who watched the Broadway
production, it might also have provided an effective "Aha" moment when they
realized that there was only one Roat, not three. But it's no surprise for the movie audience,
since close-up camera angles make it clear immediately that the other two are
also Arkin in heavy make-up.
The
new Blu-ray release of "Wait Until Dark" from the Warner Archive Collection
presents the movie in a 1080p print for high-def TV. It's a definite improvement in richness from
previous TV and home-video prints. The
tailor-made audience is likely to be those older viewers who saw the film on
the big screen in 1967, who may wonder if the movie's "gotcha"climax still
holds up. Suffice to say without
spoiling the scene for new viewers by going into details, it does. The film's stage origins are obvious in the dialogue-driven
plot set-up and in the constrained setting of one cramped apartment. The measured exposition may be a hurdle for
younger viewers used to a faster pace and visual shorthand, but the
concentration of character interplay in a closed space isn't necessarily a
problem, even for Millennials who have been conditioned to expect ADHD editing
and splashy FX in movies. It imposes a
sense of claustrophobia that subtly forces the audience to share Susy's
mounting fear of being hemmed in and trapped.
In "Take a Look in the Dark", an eight-minute special feature ported over to the
Blu-ray from a 2003 Warner Home Video DVD release, Alan Arkin notes that the
psychotic Roat, with his granny-frame sunglasses and urban-hipster patter, was
a break from the usual sneering, buttoned-down movie and TV villains of the
time. "By and large, the public had not
been exposed to that kind of person", he recalls. "But they began to have people like that live
next to them, or see them in the newspapers or on TV." Ironically, if Roat was unsettling to 1967
audiences, he and his flick knife may seem insufficiently scary for younger
viewers today, in the endless wake of movies and TV shows about flamboyantly
demented murderers since "The Silence of the Lambs" (1990) -- not to mention
the perpetrators of real-life mass murders that, numbingly, we seem to see
every night on CNN, network, and local news.
Since my all-time favorite TV series is "The Honeymooners", the legendary sitcom that was originally broadcast in 1950s, one might think I would have been overjoyed at the prospect of seeing the show's new incarnation as a big-budget musical production that just premiered at the prestigious Papermill Playhouse in Millburn, New Jersey, a venue so revered that it was honored with a special Tony award. In reality, I had considerable trepidation about seeing the show. The characters in the TV series- bus driver Ralph Kramden, his devoted but long-suffering wife Alice and their best friends, sewer worker Ed Norton and his wife Trixie- have been ingrained in the minds of every American baby boomer. In fact, the re-runs have rarely left the New York airwaves even sixty years after their original airings and the four main cast members- Jackie Gleason, Audrey Meadows, Art Carney and Joyce Randolph- are all permanently enshrined as pop culture icons. It's for precisely that reason that I feared the new stage production would be less an homage than a ripoff, created by people who have no real feel for the show. We've certainly seen this occur before, especially in translating classic television series to feature films. Thus, I'm happy to report that the musical stage version of "The Honeymooners" is a success that will almost certainly please even the most die-hard fans of the show. Tickets are selling rapidly due to good reviews and word-of-mouth. Cinema Retro attended the October 8 performance, which coincided with a press night and cast and crew after party.
The plot fits snugly into the type of scenario found in any of the T.V. episodes: the working class Kramden (Michael McGrath) and his best friend Ed Norton (Michael Mastro) engage in one of their generally doomed get-rich-quick schemes, this time submitting a jingle for an advertisement promoting a brand of cheese. Lo and behold they actually win and before long are being wooed to join an advertising agency, with the promise of sky-high salaries. As you might imagine, Ralph starts scouting luxury apartments in midtown Manhattan before he's even earned his first paycheck, much to the chagrin of Alice (Leslie Kritzer). Meanwhile, a subplot follows Trixie Norton (Laura Bell Bundy), who has decided to return to the burlesque circuit in order to pursue her own career- a decision that leads her into the grasp of her lecherous boss, who surprisingly is not named Harvey Weinstein. (Trixie's career in burlesque was mentioned in one episode but never explored beyond that.) Predictably, the good luck that falls upon Ralph and Ed becomes a case of "be careful what you wish for", as they are subjected to seedy Madison Avenue executives, a devious boss (Lewis Cleale) and a grumpy sponsor (Lewis J. Stadlen) who expects a great jingles on the spur of the moment. The new-found success also causes a strain on Ralph and Ed's friendship.
Joyce Randolph and cast members Michael Mastro, Laura Bell Bundy, Michael McGrath and Leslie Kritzer are joined by Brian Carney (right), son of Art Carney at the afterparty. (Photo copyright Cinema Retro. All rights reserved).
The show's book is written by Dusty Kay and Bill Nuss, both of whom are obviously fans of the T.V. series, as evidenced by the peppering of references to classic episodes that left the audience delighted. The script presents plenty of zingers associated with the characters, each of of whom is expertly portrayed by their modern counterparts. McGrath and Mastro do masterly work, evoking all of the character traits of Gleason and Carney and even bearing a substantial resemblance to the comedy legends (though McGrath reportedly wears padding to match Gleason's chubby physique.) Leslie Kritzer is highly impressive, channeling Audrey Meadows even as Laura Bell Bundy creates a new interpretation of Trixie that benefits from the fact that the script emphasizes the character far more than the T.V. series did. (Though purists might growl about Trixie's sultry dance number). All of these are extremely talented young actors and they do yeoman work. (McGrath is Tony winner and Bundy is a Tony nominee.) The supporting cast is also first-rate. The musical score by Stephen Weiner and lyrics by Peter Mills are impressive even if no breakthrough numbers emerge that will have you humming when you leave the theater. The entire enterprise is creatively directed by another Tony winner John Rando, who keeps the pace lively despite the fact that the show is a bit overlong. The choreography by Joshua Bergasse is very creative but there are at least a couple of musical numbers that could be trimmed without causing any negative impact on the show. There are also missed opportunities: the production practically calls out for some reference to the Huckabuck and Mambo dances that feature prominently in two of the best episodes, but which are nowhere to be seen. (A Huckabuck skit was originally included but was cut from the finished production. Time for the producers to rethink that one) and I don't recall hearing the iconic theme from the T.V. series, "Melancholy Serenade", which was composed by Jackie Gleason. I must confess that I'm not a proponent of turning non-musical properties into big, lavish musical stage productions. The writing in "The Honeymooners" is good enough to have carried the show perhaps as a 90 minute comedy sans music and intermission. However, there is no doubt that the audience relished the songs and the reaction was overwhelmingly good. I should also mention that it was a wise decision to keep the story set in the 1950s and the impressive sets evoke a real feel for the show, including the legendary Kramden kitchen where most of the action in the T.V. series took place. There is also a very creative aspect to the final moments of the show with the introduction of a surprise plot device focusing on "Cavalcade of Stars", the program where "The Honeymooners" was introduced as a series of periodic sketches before it became a regular series. It makes for a delightful finale. Most importantly, like the T.V. show, this version of "The Honeymooners" isn't just a litany of one-liners. It has heart and real emotion, as it explores the value of relationships.
(Photo: Evan Zimmerman)
I attended the performance in the company of Joyce Randolph, who is an old friend and the only surviving member of the original "Honeymooners". Joyce, who would have no problem voicing disapproval, gave the show a big thumb's up- and if it's good enough for Trixie Norton, it will surely please the legions of fans who are salivating to see it. Don't panic if you can't get tickets. Like so many of the hit shows that have world premieres at the Papermill Playhouse, there's talk of moving "The Honeymooners" to Broadway, a development that even Ralph Kramden couldn't dream of.
CLICK HERE FOR TICKET INFORMATION FOR THE SHOW, WHICH RUNS THROUGH OCTOBER 29.
(CONTINUE READING FOR MORE PHOTOS FROM THE PRESS NIGHT)
The good folks at the esteemed boutique video label First Run Features are generally known for making available films that relate to important and usually sobering social issues. Every now and then, however, they delve into areas that are considerably more light-hearted in nature. First Run has recently overseen the theatrical release of the acclaimed new documentary "Vince Giordano: There's a Future in the Past" by directors Dave Davidson and Amber Edwards. The film has now been released on DVD. Giordano may not be a household name but he's a living legend among jazz purists who are devoted to the music of the 1920s and 1930s- the kind of upbeat, immortal tunes popularized by Paul Whiteman, Duke Ellington and Louis Armstrong. Giordano plays to packed houses at Manhattan venues where he performs with his band, the Nighhawks, which he formed decades ago. Like many creative types, he is eccentric, to be sure. The film's glimpses into his personal life reveals that he lives modestly in two adjoining houses in a middle class neighborhood of Brooklyn. Giordano bought the house next door many years ago to accommodate his ever-increasing collection of sheet music and memorabilia that has obsessed him since childhood. The collection is meticulously cataloged in so many filing cabinets that his house resembles the Library of Congress. Floor-to-ceiling paperwork pertaining to his musical heroes permeates the place. You won't find any evidence in Giordano's abode that indicates the existence of rock 'n roll or even the glory days of crooners like Sinatra and Crosby. He is completely devoted to the golden era of jazz and works tirelessly to keep up with finding gigs that will help him keep his sizable band employed.
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The film opens with the band delighting in audiences at their long-time Manhattan home, the nightclub Sofia's which was located in the historic Edison Hotel off of Times Square (the same venue where Luca Brasi made the ominous walk to his doom in "The Godfather".) For many years the Nighthawks performed here in the cozy venue, filling the room with the joy of the big band sound. I had seen them there several years ago and, despite not being a jazz enthusiast myself, I couldn't help but marvel at the sheer exuberance of the band. The film follows Giordano's travails as the leader of the Nighthawks- including informing the band members on camera that Sofia's is being forced out of business by landlords who have raised the rent to $2 million a year. Ever-resourceful, he finds them a new home at a club called Iguana- but there are countless other frustrations involved in moving so many people to so many gigs far and wide. Many band members have been with Giordano for many years, some for decades. They relate how the sheer challenges of keeping on top of all of his responsibilities has sometimes caused him to break up the band, only to reunite them shortly thereafter. Giordano seems to have no other interests in his life than jazz and the Nighthawks. He is like an Evangelist in terms of spreading the word about the music and artists that he so reveres. His efforts are clearly paying off. We see him attract young people at the Newport Jazz Festival and at New York's famed private club for the arts, The Players, where he is one of the headline acts at the New York Hot Summer Jazz Festival. Giordano is part mother hen and part drill instructor to his band members. He refers to himself as "The King of Schlep" in regard to the fact that at age 65 he still loads and unloads the vast amount of equipment necessary for every show, carrying it all around in a rather weather-beaten van. He's like a modern version of Willie Lohman, feeling his age perhaps, but ever-devoted to his profession. He relies on his right arm, Carol Jean Hughes, to help him keep track of the enormous amount of paperwork and logistical support that goes into running the band. Giordano shows a grumpy side when things go wrong: a misplaced mouthpiece or a miscommunication that sees him setting up the entire band at the Players only to be told to dismantle everything because another band is scheduled to go on before him. But he's clearly in his element and delighting when playing in front of appreciative audiences. The band's prominence hit new heights with their Grammy-winning work on the HBO series "Boardwalk Empire" and the film includes clips from one of the segments in which the Nighthawks appear on camera. There is also extensive footage of David Johansen rehearsing with the band for the series. Giordano also coordinates a triumphant celebration of the 90th anniversary of Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue" and performs it at the same venue in which it premiered on the exact date of the anniversary in front of a cheering audience. The film also mentions that Giordano has worked with Martin Scorsese and Woody Allen, appearing on camera in musical scenes in their films.
"Vince Giordano: There's a Future in the Past" is a sweet-natured movie that was funded by grants and private donations. Directors Davidson and Edwards wisely allow ample screen time to show the Nighthawks performing- and the interviews with band members are especially interesting, giving a perspective of people who have not gotten rich but clearly enjoy what they do. Vince Giordano comes across as a New York original- the kind of guy you would like to sit down with at a bar for a few hours. However, that seems unlikely since the workaholic musician strikes me as the kind of obsessive who couldn't bring himself to stop studying and playing music long enough to drain down a couple of cold ones. The documentary is terrific on all levels- just like any performance by Vince Giordano and the Nighthawks.
The DVD boasts an excellent transfer and a trailer gallery of other First Run features available on DVD, though strangely it does not include the trailer for the Giordano film.
Unlike
most cities, when people are talking about Casablanca, they are most likely
discussing the 1942 classic movie, not the North African city. Why this one
film has become the quintessential example of Golden Age Hollywood filmmaking
is the focus of the new book We’ll Always Have Casablanca: The Life, Legend,
and Afterlife of Hollywood’s Most Beloved Movie by Noah Isenberg. This
excellent work not only tells the story of the genesis of the classic motion
picture from unproduced play to the backlot of Warner Brothers, but it’s impact
on generations of moviegoers as well. Isenberg does a great job in tracing how
Casablanca developed into a staple on the repertory film market, as well as the
many short stories, novels, movies and plays that have inspired it. As the
Ingrid Bergman quote that starts the book states, Casablanca does have a life
of it’s own. Through deep research and a love for classic cinema that is
evident from page one, Isenberg weaves a great book that describes that
existence.
The
book tells the story of how Burnett and Alison wrote the play Everybody Comes
to Rick’s, which was then sold to Warner Brothers. It then follows how producer
Hal B. Wallis dealt with assigning screenwriters to the script that would
become, as many people have recognized, the greatest screenplay ever written.
Subsequent chapters deal with the casting process of the film; how Harry and
Jack Warner were ahead of other studio bosses in calling out fascism in Europe;
the many refugees who played bit parts in the film who were also real-life
refugees; how the Rick/Ilsa affair gave the studio trouble with both the
Production Code and the Office of War Information. One of the most interesting
and important chapters deals with how Casablanca became a fixture at the
Brattle Theater in Cambridge, Massachusetts after Humphrey Bogart’s death in
1957. Subsequently, the film became the most popular classic movie to be shown
on American television. This was the beginning of Casablanca becoming the
quotable movie we know and love today. Indeed, Isenberg discusses nearby
Harvard students stopping by the Brattle to relieve final exam stress in
reciting whole passages from the movie.
This
book is an excellent examination of how one movie can seep into the
consciousness of an entire country, and arguably, the world. It is the perfect
companion to the seventy-fifth anniversary of Casablanca, which premiered in
New York City in late 1942.In addition
to researchers and libraries, the book is a great read and will be of interest
to anyone who loves classic cinema and is interested in how a single film can
change the world.
The TV series Doctor Who premiered in the UK in 1963 and is still a highly popular cultural institution. Fans were shocked when the news was released that the thirteenth actor to portray the doctor will be a female, actress Jodie Whittaker. As you might suspect, the web is alight with debates between those who welcomed the news and feel that Whittaker's casting will be an inspiration to young female fans and those who are aghast that the traditionally male role has now gone "politically correct". Whittaker will take over the role in January, when the current Doctor Who, Peter Capaldi, retires from the series. For more click here.
Adam West, one of the most enduring pop culture figures of the 1960s, has passed away at age 88 after a battle with leukemia. West was a hunky young actor laboring in bit parts in films such as "The Young Philadelphians", "Robinson Crusoe on Mars" and co-starring with the Three Stooges in their last feature film "The Outlaws is Coming!" when he got the opportunity to audition for the role of Batman in ABC's new TV series. The essence of the show was that it would be played as a broad comedy. West impressed the producers with his ability to pretend his character wasn't in on the joke. West played Batman and his alter ego Bruce Wayne as stalwart, incorrupt heroes. He approved young Burt Ward to play the role of Robin despite not having any previous acting experience. The show, which premiered in January 1966, took off like a rocket especially with young people who appreciated the funky humor and the eye-popping production designs. ABC decided to emulate the old Batman serials but presenting the show as two half-hour episodes on consecutive nights, the first one always ending with a cliffhanger. Many actors of repute competed to play villains in the show including Cesar Romero, Burgess Meredith, Vincent Price and many others. In 1966, Fox rushed a feature film based on the series into production with West and Ward starring.
The show also inspired the short-lived TV series "The Green Hornet", which gave Bruce Lee his first dose of fame. By early 1968, however, the show's novelty had worn off and it was canceled. West struggled to find acting gigs. In 1971 he won good reviews for a dramatic performance in "The Marriage of a Young Stockbroker", playing a supporting role. West was proud of the film but it wasn't a hit and his career went back into the doldrums. West never went out of style, however, and make lucrative appearances throughout the decades at fan conventions around the world.
He also got a late career boost by providing the voiceover work for the hit animated TV comedy series "The Family Guy" as well as for the "Batman" animated series. West also enjoyed a surge in popularity whenever a new "Batman" feature film would go into production and he was a participant in the long-awaited home video release of the "Batman" TV series in 2014. In 2013, Netflix ran a documentary "Starring Adam West" in which the actor reflected on his career. For more click here.
(The new documentary "Becoming Bond" is now showing on the Hulu network.)
BY MARK CERULLI
Prior
to seeing Josh Greenbaum’s illuminating documentary, Becoming Bond, which premiered on HULU May 20th, I had
dismissed George Lazenby’s mystifying refusal to continue as 007 as just
another gullible young actor taking bad career advice; like Tom Selleck passing
on Indiana Jones, Travolta nixing Forrest Gump, Thomas Jane handing Don
Draper to Jon Hamm… but there’s more to
it than that, a lot more as it turns out.
Cleverly
combining interview footage of Lazenby, still hale and hearty at 77, with
well-staged recreations, Becoming Bond
dives deep into this complicated and impulsive star to understand HOW he could
casually dump one of the most coveted roles in the history of film. As it turns out, that decision is symbolic of
who George Lazenby really is: intelligent, charming, naïve but most of all, independent. Lazenby is, and has always been, his own man. From pissing off teachers in grade school, to
pursuing a girl from an elite family many social stations above his own, George
always did what George wanted to do. Usually documentaries feature others talking about the main subject in
order to create a full picture. Early on, director Josh Greenbaum felt
Lazenby’s stories were so rich, he wanted to recreate them – it was an inspired
choice. Australian actor Josh Lawson is
perfect as a young George Lazenby, gradually finding his way in the world and
effortlessly using his charm and chiseled looks to become a top model. A fluke landed him dinner with a London
talent agent (played by real Bond Girl, Jane Seymour) who got him in the
door to audition for 007, then George did it HIS way: conning a brusque Harry
Saltzman (comedian Jeff Garlin) into handing him the keys to the Bond movie
kingdom, then confounding him when he wouldn’t play by his rules. Lazenby did his and Cubby Broccoli’s film, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, which
became a box office hit in 1969 (despite popular belief that the movie bombed.) Suddenly the world – and a world of women –
were at his feet, but it was a lot for a guy from tiny Goulburn, Australia to
handle. Maybe too much. Lazenby turned down a one million dollar
payment to sign a seven-picture deal, something most actors would give body
parts for. Once the Bond producers realized none of the usual leverage worked,
they were playing by Lazenby’s rules, which meant there were no rules: George does what George wants. In the end, Lazenby did okay without Bond – he
made his money in real estate, acted in other films, married, became a father…
but oh what might have been.
After the documentary screening at LA’s delightfully quirky Cinefamily Theater, cast, crew and George himself answered questions, and once again, George was George. When asked if he regretted walking away from Bond, the actor said, “If I had stayed as James Bond I would have probably had three wives in Beverly Hills, mansions, been a drug addict… that’s the kind of person I would’ve been because it wouldn’t’ve been me.†He admitted he just didn’t like taking orders. Sitting next to him, actor Josh Lawson perceptively pointed out that, “the things that caused George to walk away were the things that got him the job in the first place.â€
After the Q&A, Hulu threw down an after party with an open (bless them) martini bar. There the cast and Lazenby mingled with guests – including this CR scribe. I had met George before, but had forgotten how freakin’ big he is in person. (A fellow Bond fan said he was the tallest of all the Bonds.) Shaking his enormous hand reminded me of shaking hands with boxing champ George Foreman during my HBO producer days. No wonder Lazenby knocked out a stuntman during his Bond action screen test. (An act seen in the documentary, followed by Saltzman stepping over the twitching body to tell George, “We’re going with you.â€) Absolutely priceless, all true – and pure Lazenby!
Lazenby’s
composure is remarkable given how close he came to having it all. In fact, the only time he became visibly
emotional was when he discussed the one decision he does regret: giving up the girl of his dreams, a lovely
upper class gal named Belinda (wonderfully played by Kassandra Clementi). Like her co-star, Clementi had never met
Lazenby until Wednesday’s premiere and she had never even seen On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, which
was shown after the festivities. And how
did she like it? “I loved the film,â€
Clementi said via her publicist, “And George Lazenby was unsurprisingly just as
captivating and charming as he is today.†Sounds like a newly-minted Bond fan…