Congratulations to Cinema Retro's own Raymond Benson whose latest literary venture returns him to the world of Ian Fleming and 007- with an intriguing twist. As you undoubtedly know, Raymond was one of the successors to Fleming, having written many official James Bond thrillers. Click here to read the official announcement from Ian Fleming Publications.

By Ernie Magnotta

In August of 1964, legendary writer Stan Lee and just as legendary artist Steve Ditko devised a new villain to do battle with their greatest creation, The Amazing Spider-Man. The villain’s name: Kraven the Hunter. Kraven, an expert trapper who sees the web-slinger as the most dangerous game and believes that, by defeating him he will become the greatest hunter who ever lived, first appeared in the Marvel comic book Amazing Spider-Man #15. The character was a hit with readers and Kraven quickly became a major foe of Spidey’s for decades to come. As part of Marvel/Sony’s trend of giving some of Spider-Man’s villains their own live-action blockbuster film (Madame Web, Morbius, Venom), Kraven’s epic movie was released this past December and was appropriately titled Kraven the Hunter.

Directed by J. C. Chandor and written by Art Marcum, Matt Holloway and Richard Wenk, Kraven tells the story of Sergei Kravinoff (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), son of cold-blooded drug trafficker Nikolai Kravinoff (Russell Crowe). After being seriously injured by saving his half-brother Dimitri (Fred Hechinger) from a lion attack, Sergei gains the physical abilities of an animal, refuses to take over his father’s empire and instead, uses his newfound powers to hunt criminals.

Although I read Marvel comics voraciously as a kid (and loved them all), I’m not going to pretend to be an expert on the Kraven character. I remember him appearing many times in the books, but I don’t think the movie follows the storyline of the comics. I could be wrong, though. It’s been over 40 years since I read a comic book, so the writers could have been inspired by a later Kraven story. No matter what the case is, Kraven the Hunter is not up to the standards it should be and that probably has to do with the studio tampering I’ve been hearing about. It somewhat suffers from clichés and I felt like the characters could have been fleshed out a bit more. Still, although far from perfect, I don’t think the movie is as bad as people have been saying. However, one wonders how this film would have turned out if the work of director Chandor and the writers were left alone.

Kraven has a group of wonderful actors, though. Aaron Taylor-Johnson is fine in the lead role. He just isn’t given enough to work with. The great Russell Crowe is also fun to watch while the talented Ariana Debose, Fred Hechinger, Alessandro Nivola and Christopher Abbott portray legendary Marvel villains Calypso, the Chameleon, the Rhino and the Foreigner, respectively.

Kraven the Hunter has been released on Blu-ray and the film is presented in its original 2.39:1 aspect ratio. For the most part, the audio is very good (except for the movie’s few bits of noticeable ADR). The same goes for the visuals (excluding the mediocre CGI sequences). The disc’s special features are as follows: “Deleted & Extended Scenes”, “Becoming Kraven”, “Beast Mode: The Stunts of the Hunt”, “Outtakes & Bloopers”, “Kraven’s First Hunt: The Direction”, and “Allies & Antagonists: The Killer Cast”. The Blu-ray also comes with a digital copy and a slipcover.

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Amazon has announced that two movie industry heavy hitters will be producing the next James Bond movie. Amy Pascal and David Heyman will oversee the production of the next film, though no start date or casting decisions have been announced. The last 007 blockbuster, "No Time to Die" was released in 2021 and was a major hit even though many of the world's movie theaters were still closed due to Covid. Longtime producers Barbara Broccoli and Michael G. Wilson still own half of the franchise but recently sold the creative rights to Amazon. That means that the decisions regarding the return of Bond to the big screen will be entirely decided by Amazon. Pascal and Heyman, two of the industry's most highly regarded producers, issued a statement indicating they are well aware of the responsibility they are taking on for guiding the legendary film series that began in 1962:

“James Bond is one of the most iconic characters in the history of cinema. We are humbled to follow in the footsteps of Barbara Broccoli and Michael Wilson who made so many extraordinary films and honored and excited to keep the spirit of Bond very much alive as he embarks on his next adventure.”

Click here for more. 

By John M. Whalen 

“What does it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his immortal soul?”

So it says in the Bible, but nowhere in world literature, or for that matter in world cinema, is that verse better or more painfully dramatized than in British filmmaker Michael Winterbottom’s “The Claim” (2000), now available in a special edition Blu-ray from Kino Lorber. The film is an adaptation of Thomas Hardy’s “The Mayor of Casterbridge” with the setting transposed from England to the snowy gold mining country of the Sierra Nevada in 1869. (Think “McCabe and Mrs. Miller). Scottish actor Peter Mullan (“Trainspotting” (1996), “My Name is Joe” (1998)), plays Daniel Dillon a man who singlehandedly built a town in the snowy wilderness called Kingdom Come. His word is law and everybody respects him. He’s well-liked and even those who face punishment at his hands willingly abide by it. As one townsman notes after a public scourging, “Most other town bosses would have put him to death.”

Dillon shares his world and his bed with Lucia (Milla Jovovich), a Portuguese singer who runs the local whorehouse. Their relationship is not completely based on money—at least not on Lucia’s side. For Dillion it’s a relationship based on a realistic assessment of the brutal, unforgiving world they live in.

The story opens on a day that is about to shatter the world Dillon has created, a day when a secret he has held for 20 years will become public. A caravan of travelers comes trudging through the snowy main street of Kingdom Come, bringing with it the seeds of Dillon’s demise. Two of the travelers are Elena Burn (Nastassja Kinski), a woman who is dying of Tuberculosis, and Hope (Sarah Polley), her lovely young daughter. Upon their arrival, Elena gives Hope a string of rosary beads and tells her to go and give it to Dillon, while she finds a place for them to stay. Elena goes to Dillon and gives him the rosary and he stands frozen in his tracks. Hope walks off to join her mother and Dillon cries out: “Hope? You’re Hope?”

Also in the newly arrived caravan of travelers is Donald Dalglish, (Wes Bentley) an engineer for the Central Pacific Railroad. He’s come to decide where the tracks will go for the new line. Will they go further down in the valley below or come through Kingdom Come? Dillon is banking on the tracks coming through town, which will bring him even more riches. Already he owns the town’s bank, in which rest hundreds of gold bars. Having a railroad stop in Kingdom Come would make him a very rich man.

And to think it all started with a small claim he bought 20 years ago. And therein lies the story. How he bought the claim and what he paid for it comes out in flashbacks and present day action that keeps you spellbound. Michael Winterbottom is a painstaking director, but he’s reluctant to reveal everything all at once. Characters come and go, we may not even know who they are, and little incidents of everyday life are shown, while the Big Thing is moving inexorably forward, unstoppable.

Mullan as Dillon is fascinating to watch as he devolves from a king-like figure, the master of all he surveys, to a hopelessly desperate man unable to stop the forces of time and evolution that will destroy him. Milla Jovovich is captivating as the Polish whore who sings a pretty good song and really loves Dillon for who he is and not how much gold he has. Nastassja Kinski gives a grim performance as the ill woman who brought Dillon the rosary, which Winterbottom uses as a key to unlock the door to all the mysteries of the past. And Sarah Polley as Hope is the living, flesh and blood symbol of the cruel naiveté of innocence. Finally, Wes Bentley as the railroad engineer is a younger version of Dillon, seemingly heroic, but perhaps as corruptible as Dillon in the end.

“The Claim” was filmed on location at Fortress Mountain, Alberta, Canada with some footage shot on the Durango and Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad in Colorado. There are two scenes in the film that are absolutely mind-blowing. One is of a horse on fire running across a snowy landscape. The other, reminiscent of Werner Herzog’s “Fitzcarraldo” (1982), shows a three-story octagonal house being pulled through a snowy forest by dozens of men, shot from a distance with only the gabled roof of the house visible above the tree line. All this natural splendor and brutal vitality was shot in 2.35:1 aspect ratio by award winning Cinematographer Alwin H. Kuchler (“Code 46,” “The Mauritainian”). The music score was composed and conducted by Michael Nyman, who has composed operas and film scores for Peter Greenway and Jane Campion (“The Piano”). Kino Lorber has also included an excellent audio commentary by writer and filmmaker Scout Trafoyo that is almost as dramatic and emotional as the film itself. The Blu-ray disc also includes a multi-channel soundtrack option for those of you so inclined and the theatrical trailer.

“The Claim” is a remarkable movie and the KL Blu-ray is a “must have” addition to anyone’s collection.

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By Hank Reineke

On May 18, 1953, Roger Corman was at breakfast reading through a copy of the morning edition of the Los Angeles Times. There, on the bottom left of the first page, was an article titled “Tiny One-Man Submarine Driven by Pedals Demonstrated at Avalon.” The report continued on pages two and three, the latter offering full-page photos of the so-called “Metal Fish.” (A reproduction of the page is featured in the twelve-page booklet accompanying Film Master’s “Newly Restored” Blu-ray Special Edition of Monster from the Ocean Floor). In the photos a pilot, equipped with an artificial lung and sea mask, was readying to navigate Aerojet General’s Mark III electrical-capable submersible bicycle prototype.

Intrigued by the mini-subs novelty, an impressed Corman telephoned an Aerojet executive. He explained he was an independent film producer planning to photograph underwater sequences for his next project. He wished to incorporate the submersible into his film but, of course, had no cash for a rental. As recounted in his memoir How I Made a Hundred Movies in Hollywood and Never Lost a Dime, Corman suggested a deal. Should the exec allow usage of his, “one-man sub for free I’d give the firm publicity and a credit in the film.” In those simpler times, such an offer, apparently, was enticement enough.

There were a few obstacles. The first, and biggest, was that Corman had no script nor provisional underwater spectacle on his drawing board. In fact, Corman had only one film to his credit, for co-producing and selling his original story for $3,500 to the Allied Artists. Corman recalled being less-than-enthusiastic watching that pic, Highway Dragnet (1954), at a sneak preview event, certain his budding Hollywood career was now “destroyed.” He believed had he held some measure of control over the production of the film, the pic might have been “shot more efficiently.”

Things would be different next time. With free-use of the Mark III settled and in desire of acting as his own producer, Corman wrote an outline for a science-fiction opus titled It Stalked the Ocean Floor, hiring television writer, William “Bill” Danch, to write a screenplay from his treatment. Danch was offered “almost no money” up front but was promised “a piece of the profits” - should there be any. Corman estimated he’d need approximately $12,000 to produce the film, using the $3,500 he made from Highway Dragnet as seed money. Though his own parents refused to assist in financing his opus –they countered they’d already helped pay his way through Stanford for a degree in Industrial Engineering – Corman managed to cobble together an additional $6,500 from school friends.

Still two-thousand dollars short, Corman approached actor-writer Wyott Ordung to direct. Though Ordung already had two screenplays to his credit (Robot Monster (1953) and Combat Squad (1953), he desperately wanted to helm a feature film project. If Ordung agreed to invest two-thousand dollars of his own savings into Corman’s prospective film, he would be given the director’s chair. Ordung accepted. Well, that’s Corman’s memory of the fundraising, anyway. In the course of a 1984 interview with Fangoria, Ordung suggested it was he who, “raised the money” to produce the film at a cost of $39,000, “initial shooting” accounting for $19,000 of the total budget. Ordung also suggested Danch’s script for Corman’s sea monster opus was provisionally titled The Flaming Sea.

Regardless of how the money was actually raised, a workable budget was secured. In the coming weeks Corman created Palo Alto Productions: a $25 per month office space above Sunset Boulevard’s Cock ‘n’ Bull restaurant. His film was mostly produced under the radar of Hollywood, little notice given to the production in the trades. One of the few notices was a one-sentence mention in Variety, October of 1953, noting Ordung was to begin work on a film, now titled The Sea Demon.

The actual final budget of Monster from the Ocean Floor has long been debated. Corman suggested the pic’s production budget – minus post-production lab fees and music - was $12,000. Variety suggested the picture was produced on an investment of $15,000, with Roger’s brother, Gene, a film-industry agent, musing the film cost some $35,000 to bring it to the attention of distributors. If nothing else, Gene Corman’s financial figure somewhat coincides with Ordung’s remembrance of a $39,000 budget.

Roger Corman calculated the twelve thousand only figuring in “film, equipment rental, editing, music” and minimum-scale union salaries for the actors and technical crews. With the film’s production budget so threadbare, Corman knew the crew needed to shoot in a tight ratio of 1:3. That is, one-third of all exposed film needed to be seen on screen and not left on the cutting room floor. To achieve this, the production would require a brisk six-day shooting schedule with total oversight of Corman as producer.

To that end, Corman was the earliest to arrive on “set” – his “soundstage” being the beachside and waterborne locales of Santa Clara doubling as the Mexican coastline. The film, in fact, offers no interiors, save for a single scene photographed inside a boat’s cabin. Out of frugal necessity, Corman acted as the film’s key grip, unloading the majority of film equipment – cameras, lights, props etc. – so cameras could begin to roll immediately at sunrise without delay. Likewise, he was also the last to leave, dismantling everything once the day’s shooting had concluded. Corman was aware should he leave such tasks to a union film crew, overtime pay would be required… and that assuredly wasn’t going to happen.

There were further obstacles to hurdle following completion of principal photography. Corman required an additional $5,000 to pay for the processing of the black-and-white footage and to see delivery of the film’s final print. He was able to dodge this potentially crippling issue when the sympathetic, generous president of Consolidated Lab offered to complete work on the film on a deferred payment basis: Corman would speculatively pay all lab costs from the film’s post-release earnings. Ordung recalled sound editor Jack Milner as the true, unsung “hero” of the picture. The director reminisced the film’s sound recording speed was not properly synched to the footage shot, requiring Milner to “re-cut the sound word for word.”

There were at least three economic-minded distributors interested in purchasing rights to Monster from the Ocean Floor: execs at Realart, Herbert Yates at Republic and theatre-chain owner Robert Lippert. Gene Corman managed to negotiate a very decent distribution deal with Lippert, the businessman agreeing to pay $110,000 dollars for Monster as a “pick-up:” when a production company - such as Corman’s Palo Alto - is reimbursed by the distributor for production costs in trade for a percentage of a film’s total profit.

The savvy Corman brothers had negotiated with Lippert with a bit of card playing sleight of hand, intimating the production budget of Monster had been costlier than it actually was. Upon realizing he had been misled in regard to the film’s actual vs. $110,000 production cost, Lippert allegedly tried to downgrade and readjust his offer... which may have happened but, again, it’s not clear if the original contract between the two parties was honored or not. Corman acknowledged it was Lippert who suggested they change the film’s title from It Stalked the Ocean Floor (or The Sea Demon) to the more commercial Monster from the Ocean Floor. The distributor thought the word “stalked” was “a bit too literary.” Corman conceded this simple change in verbiage, “may have helped” the film’s earnings at the box office.

Upon its release Monster from the Ocean Floor was paired with a curious number of non-genre related properties, all Lippert-acquired: The Queen of Sheba, Heat Wave, The Desperado, The Cowboy and Long Wait were among the pic’s co-bills. Whether topping the bill or offered as a support feature, The Monster from the Ocean Floor was a modest box-office success. The tag lines for the great one-sheet poster designed for promotion promised, “A crawling bestial creature of the Atomic Age… Creeps from the depths of the Pacific to challenge the world!” or “Up from the Forbidden Depths Comes a Tidal Wave of Terror!” or “Terror Strikes...! From Beneath the Sea.” Such ballyhoo worked. By February 1956 – twenty-one months following the film’s premiere of May 1954 - Variety estimated Monster had already managed to rack a healthy domestic earning of some $185,000.

Though no one necessarily got rich from their share of Monster earnings, the creative team all profited in one manner or another. Lippert agreed to front Corman $50,000 to finance his next indie feature as producer, The Fast and the Furious (1954). Director Ordung would found his own indie production company, Valor Pictures. Coincident with the release of Monster, Ordung began to prep his own action drama The Sporting Life. That film, under the amended title of Walk the Dark Street (featuring Chuck Connors) would see release in 1956.

Screenwriter William Danch, who had once written dramatic and comedy scripts for such radio stars as Edgar Bergen, Bob Hope, Henry Fonda, Robert Young and Dorothy Lamour, left the U.S. for a year’s stint as a writer for Radio Free Europe. There he would work with Hungarian exiles to produce anti-Communist broadcasts for audiences behind the Iron Curtain. Lippert would subsequently enjoy a second bite at the apple when, by the close of 1960, Variety reported – much to the chagrin of his cinema operators – the savvy businessman “sold a total of 150 post-’48 films” to the National Telefilm Association for television broadcast.

Monster from the Ocean Floor offers a good dose of low-budget 1950s sci-fi. “The ocean can be dangerous, Julie, very dangerous,” warns Stanford-trained marine biologist Steve Dunning (Stuart Wade). He should well know: a few scenes earlier, Dunning’s one-man submersible had collided into Julie Blair (Anne Kimbell) as she swam peacefully in a cove off the Mexican coast. Then again, Julie was already warned of the danger present. In the film’s first scene, Julie learns from a Mexican child that a mysterious creature was haunting the waters.

“The sea makes much unhappiness,” the child tells her, lamenting his own father was killed by “a big devil” lurking beneath the cove’s waters. When Julie shares the boy’s story with Dunning, he shrugs it off as superstitious local nonsense. But being a do-gooder American guest in the region, Julie chooses not to dismiss the possibility of a sea monster lurking below. She routinely scuba dives to investigate the possibility herself.

Sure enough, Julie encounters an unusually large-size octopus with a single cyclopoid eye. She tells Dunning of her discovery and the two theorize that radiation leakage from the Bikini Atoll nuclear tests might have caused a mutation. In the meantime, an abalone diver, a burro in a straw hat, and a beloved dog have been pinched by the creature that absorbs victims. To make things worse, a superstitious old crone, Tula (Inez Palange) deputizes the otherwise recalcitrant Pablo (director Ordung) to sacrifice blond bombshell Julie to appease the monster. The film concludes dramatically with Julie struggling under sea against the slimy tentacles of The Monster from the Ocean Floor.

The Warner Archive’s 16th anniversary is this Sunday 3/23. And, you know what that means. We're celebrating with a 4 for $49 sale at Movie Zyng!

Click https://zyng.us/6UI5QP to get a great deal with over 500 Blu-ray releases (including some Warner Bros. Home Entertainment titles) to choose from. This sales ends on the 31st so shop early and add great releases to your collection.

Cinema Retro has received the following press release:

Meetup Group:

Instagram: @toliveandletdieinla

Email: liveandlet007@gmail.com

"To Live and Let Die in LA" is a monthly meetup here in Los Angeles. We plan monthly events themed around the Bond lifestyle (cocktails, trivia, dinners, screenings, etc.). It's definitely growing, and the Bond community here in LA is having a great time with it. 

Screening Series:

This will be a bi-monthly regular screening series featuring a variety of Bond adventures throughout the year.  There will be a themed pre-show, as well as introductions. All the titles shown will be in 4K DCP format and the venue “The Culver Theater” will be selling themed drinks and martinis to boot. 

Tickets for the first three screenings are already available for purchase, and can be found at the links below:

Dr. No (March 25th 7pm)

The Living Daylights (May 27th 7pm)

Thunderball (July 29th 7pm)

Die Another Day (September 23^rd 7pm)

A View to a Kill (November 25^th 7pm)

If you have any further questions please contact "To Live and Let Die in LA" (liveandlet007@gmail.com) or visit "The Culver Theater" at:

Website: https://web.theculvertheater.com/

By Ernie Magnotta

The 1970s gave us a plethora of B-movies which showed nature rising up and attacking humans. Fun films such as Bug (1975), Grizzly (1976), Day of the Animals, Empire of the Ants and Kingdom of the Spiders (all 1977) flooded both 70s drive-ins and hardtop theaters. In addition to these creatures, bees seemed to get pretty pissed off and they appeared in the 70s Made-for-TV films; Killer Bees (1974) The Savage Bees (1976), as well as the theatrical works The Bees and the all-star disaster flick The Swarm (both 1978).

However, in 1973, there was one classic, but somewhat forgotten B-movie (pun intended) which featured our honey-making friends in a more unique way than just having the insects attack humanity. This film, titled Invasion of the Bee Girls, had a bit more imagination and, luckily for us, it has just been released on Blu-ray.

Solidly directed by Denis Sanders from a fun script my Nicholas Meyer (who disliked certain changes that were made to his screenplay), Invasion of the Bee Girls (aka Graveyard Tramps for its 1981 re-release) deals with government inspector Neil Agar (played by the late, great William Smith) who investigates a series of male deaths which, at first, seem to be from heart failure due to sexual exertion. Agar soon learns that a crazed scientist named Dr. Susan Harris (the lovely Anitra Ford) has created a bee serum mutated by radiation that transforms local women into monsters who mate with men before killing them. (Yes, I laughed out loud as I wrote that sentence.) Can Agar stop the doctor’s horrific plans or will he too succumb to the irresistible seduction of the bee girls?

Invasion of the Bee Girls is an enjoyable movie that moves along at a pretty brisk pace and, at 85 minutes, never overstays its welcome. It’s also filled with wonderful performances from a veteran cast. You may not recognize some of the talent by name, but trust me when I tell you that you’ll immediately recognize their faces. In addition to William Smith and Anitra Ford, we have terrific turns from Victoria Vetri, Cliff Osmond, Wright King, Katie Saylor, Beverly Powers, Anna Aries, Cliff Emmich and Jack Perkins.

The entertaining horror/sci-fi creature feature also benefits from cinematography by the legendary Gary Graver and a memorable music score from Emmy Award winner Charles Bernstein.

Kino Lorber has released Invasion of the Bee Girls on a region one Blu-ray in its original (1.85:1) aspect ratio. It is number 24 in their Kino Cult Series and this high definition transfer looks terrific. The disc also contains theatrical trailers, radio spots and an audio commentary by film historians Alexandra Heller-Nicholas and Josh Nelson, as well as a collectible slipcover featuring the original poster artwork. Check it out. Buzz-buzz!

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(Photo: Paramount)

Cinema Retro's Editor-in-Chief Lee Pfeiffer was recently invited by Paramount Home Entertainment to discuss "Tommy Boy" with the film's director Peter Segal in conjunction with the release of the 30th anniversary 4K and Blu-ray editions, which are released on March 25.  

CR: I'm a big fan of Tommy Boy, so I'll just cut to the chase. How did the project come to you?

PS: I had worked with Chris Farley a couple of times before this movie. I did an HBO special with him and Tom Arnold. Then I did an episode of a show that we did for ABC called The Jackie Thomas Show. I knew that Chris was the funniest guy I'd ever met, and I thought, if ever I did get an opportunity to make a movie, that I would love to have it be with him. Soon thereafter, a script came to my desk called Billy the Third: A Midwestern, and it was the genesis of this project. (The film ultimately became Tommy Boy.- Ed.)

CR: Now, you had some real challenges. The script was being rewritten. You didn't have a finalized vision of the ending, apparently. You had a relatively low budget, and you had two leading men who were basically novices to the film business. How did you cope with all of that?

PS: [laughs] It was hard, but you know what, hearing you describe those ingredients, yes, you'd have to be nuts to take that on, but it was really about Chris. It was a challenging situation, with him splitting time with the SNL season because we took too long during the interim time between both seasons to work on the script. But it was just an opportunity to work with this guy who, like I said, I worked with a couple of times before and I just couldn't wait to try to figure something out with him.

CR: Did Chris and David Spade find it difficult to adapt from TV into feature film format?

PS: Yes, they both got a little annoyed with me, not that I did a lot of takes, but on Saturday Night Live, when you're in front of a live audience, you do one take, you have multiple cameras, and you're done. On Tommy Boy, it was three, four, five, six takes in one direction, now we're going to turn the camera around, three, four, five, six takes in that direction. They would get bored. They had to learn that that's what it was like making a movie. It also did sometimes give us some interesting moments that we wouldn't have had without their boredom. For example, Fat Guy in A Little Coat- in that scene Chris only spoke the words, and that was a bit that he would do in the Saturday Night Live offices, putting on people's coats and saying "Fat guy in a little coat, fat guy in a little coat." He got bored during the coverage of David, and he made it into a song. I didn't know this until my editor the next day said, "Oh my God, did you look at the dailies?" I said, "Well, I was there. I'm pretty sure I know what happened." He goes, "No, but you weren't paying attention to Chris. When he was off camera he was singing. You’ve got to go back reshoot it, turn the camera around, get him to sing the song." So we did. That was because of boredom and it led to something.

CR: Improvisation was encouraged on your side?

PS: Absolutely. It's always encouraged. The worst thing that can happen is it hits the cutting room floor, but I always want to try something.

CR: You said that, although Chris had these terrible habits that we know about later in his life, he behaved himself on the set. He was dedicated to making this film work.

PS: I think this was the best experience of his professional career because he was now a leading man. He was clean and sober during production and he was enjoying the work. After the success of Tommy Boy, there was a lot of pressure on him. He got offers right and left. He was caught up in making money instead of really waiting for the right project, and I think he was becoming frustrated with the way things were going.The fact that I look back on this experience and we're still talking about this movie 30 years later, it gives me a nice feeling in my heart because we're not celebrating something that was bad for his life. We're celebrating something that was really good for his life.

CR: That's a good way of looking at it. I wanted to ask you also about the contributions made by cinematographer Vic Kemper and editor Bill Kerr.

PS: Vic Kemper was a great cinematographer. We needed a strong hand because I knew that as much as I love to plan and storyboard everything, which I did for that movie, that things were going to be changing a lot, because, as we've discussed, there wasn't a complete script. You can't be a cinematographer and plan and do prep without a screenplay. Bill Kerr happens to be my best friend. This was his first major motion picture. It was, I would say, a blast working with him. Of course, it's a blast because it's always a blast working with your best friend. It was comforting working with him because he knew how hard it was for me to be away. At the time, I had two children and they were one and three. When they would visit on the set, they would've actually grown since the last visit, and I'd get really down. Being able to go to the edit room was almost like going to my therapist. I couldn't have done this without either of those guys.

CR: Also, David Newman's contribution. He delivered a wonderful score. You would not think of him associated with a comedy such as this, but it's a wonderful score.

PS: Thank you. David did a wonderful job. (Paramount CEO) Sherry Lansing originally thought that this was just going to be scored with a garage band. Then when she saw the first cut, she said, "That's not the movie I bought. This has a lot more heart. You scored it with James Newton Howard (who scored the comedy Dave-Ed.), and other big composers as temp tracks. I think we need to give you some more money. You need to get an orchestra now." We hired David, but he had only three weeks to put it together. You can recognize the movie Dave in here. I had a meeting with (that film’s director) Ivan Reitman a few years after Tommy Boy came out, and the first thing he said when I walked into his office was, "Nice score!"

[laughter]

PS: I could hear the similarities myself.

CR:. The film didn't perform spectacularly when it first opened, but its reputation really grew when it came out on home video. You were surprised to find out how well it sold.

PS: The movie did open (in theaters) at number one. We (ultimately) made $31 million domestically, because it wasn't even released internationally, and that was fine. It was successful, but where the movie's real success, as you were mentioning, was on home video, which at the time meant VHS. At the 10th anniversary, Paramount sent out crews all over the country to interview the cast and everything. They were doing quite a bit and I said, "Wow, this is a lot for the 10th anniversary of this movie. Why such a fuss?" They said, "Well, this is a top 10 seller for us." I said, "What does that mean? This year?" They said, "No, of all time." I said, "Wait a minute. You mean Paramount Pictures with Raiders of the Lost Ark and The Godfather… Top 10???" They go, "On VHS, yes." That's where this movie made its bones really.

CR: Many people consider the film to be a genuine comedy classic. What do you attribute that to, Peter? Why do you think it's resonated with so many people of different generations over so many years?

PS: I think because it has a sweetness to it. It's not just about the jokes. There's a softness to it that is also showing a different side of Chris Farley that I don't think he showed in any of his other movies. Just as Rebel Without a Cause was to James Dean, this movie is to Chris. He didn't get to make a lot of movies, and because this one is an original character, that meant a lot to him and his relationship with his father in real life. Also, his friendship, obviously, with David Spade, that comes through. I think it becomes the secret sauce. That’s why we're still talking about this movie.

(Special thanks to Sharon Ramirez and Deborah Thompson.)

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(Photo: Paramount/Cinema Retro Archives)

We all know that popular crooner Al Martino landed a key role in "The Godfather" as Johnny Fontane, a character who was clearly inspired by young Frank Sinatra. Suffice it to say, Sinatra was not pleased. Martino had no acting experience and was hired against the wishes of director Francis Ford Coppola, who argued that a seasoned actor should play the role of Fontane. However, producer Al Ruddy stuck with Martino. The web site Legsville.com features a "lost" 1991 interview with Martino that was conducted by writers Burt Kearns and Rafael Abramovitz (who has since passed away.) The interview was never published until Kearns came across the interview transcripts in 2022. Kearns published it on the Legsville site under his copyright. Martino spins some eye-popping tales regarding the behind-the-scenes friction on the film. Some are difficult to believe but that doesn't mean Martino's recollections are necessarily inaccurate. Click here to come to your own conclusion. (Lee Pfeiffer) 

(Cinema Retro covered the film in issue #26)

Here are some American radio spots for director Sam Peckinpah's controversial 1971 film "Straw Dogs". These spots provide audience responses to seeing the film. 

UPDATE: THIS ISSUE IS EXPECTED TO SHIP IN THE U.K. IN LATE FEBRUARY. IT IS EXPECTED TO BE SHIPPED TO ALL OTHER LOCATIONS FROM THE U.S. OFFICE IN LATE MARCH, DEPENDING ON IMPORT/EXPORT SCHEDULES. 

By popular demand, Cinema Retro presents a special edition issue devoted to director John Sturges' 1960 Western classic, "The Magnificent Seven" starring Yul Brynner, Steve McQueen, Eli Wallach, Charles Bronson, Robert Vaughn, James Coburn, Horst Bucholz and Brad Dexter.

• Adapted from Brian Hannan's book "The Making of the Magnificent" with an abundance of new material.
• Packed with rare production photos and scene stills.
  
• The comparisons between "The Magnificent Seven" and the film that inspired it, Kurosawa's "Seven Samurai".
• Foreword by Sir Christopher Frayling
• An abundance of rare international movie posters and marketing materials.
  
• Coverage of the film's big screen sequels.
  

NOTE: IF YOU LIVE IN SOUTHERN IRELAND, PLEASE USE THE "REST OF THE WORLD" ORDER OPTION.

Warner Bros. provides this clip from John Wayne's 1970 Western "Chisum" showing the Duke at his best.

Click here to order the Blu-ray from Amazon

By Hank Reineke

One month prior to unleashing his double-bill of The Killer Shrews with The Giant Gila Monster, Paris, Texas, born executive producer Gordon B. McLendon conceded to Variety, that he hadn’t “the vaguest idea of what I’m doing, but I’m trying to learn.” Both of McClendon’s sci-fi/horror efforts had been shot in around the Dallas area on shoestring budgets. Broadcasting magazine reported in early February 1959 that both of his independent Hollywood Pictures Corporation features were budgeted at $300,000 each. But tight shooting schedules and non-union labor allowed Shrews to cost as little as $123,000. Though the mounting of The Giant Gila Monster would require a modest additional investment for special effects work, production costs still only totaled $138,000.

The McLendon family certainly had the money to test entry into the film business. Gordon’s father, Barton R. McLendon, also an executive producer of Shrews, was a successful attorney who bought the Dallas based KLIF radio station in 1947. Due to its success in broadcasting major league baseball games and introducing pop music singles in a Top 40 radio format, over the next decade the McLendon’s would shepherd KLIF – from a one thousand kilowatt station to an FCC licensed fifty kilowatt station. The McLendon Corporation’s radio empire would continue to expand, soon boasting ownership of seven radio stations and hundreds of associated affiliates. Industry trades suggested the radio arm of the McLendon holdings would enjoy a capacity reach of some twenty million listeners.

The McClendon’s communication empire – partially funded by concurrent business-savvy investments in Texan real estate and oil production – also included, as per Broadcasting, Barton’s ownership “of his far-flung Tri-States Theatres, a Texas-Oklahoma-Louisiana chain he founded in the early thirties.” Barton’s son, Gordon, had become a radio celebrity in his own right as an announcer of sporting events. In 1951, The Sporting News would even award Gordon the title of “outstanding football broadcaster.” But B.R.’s son, seeking fresh economic opportunities, was interested in throwing his hat into the ring of regional film production. It was a prudent move: the McLendon’s not only had the money to invest in producing films, but they also held ownership of a chain of southwestern theatres to showcase their efforts.

Initially, Gordon wasn’t concerned about such trifling matters as film distribution. He told Variety his company might even act as their own distributor. He was confident that with free radio airplay and the use of their own theater chain, their films’ box-office would thrive in the southwest regional market. But Gordon sheepishly admitted his knowledge of film distribution across the U.S. and foreign markets was limited: he might still look for a distribution deal. “I’m not quite certain how to handle it. I’m waiting to see what will be offered,” he mused, but added, “Why should I give away 35%?” But following the double-feature’s Dallas opening, McLendon relented. He signed with Robert R. O’Donnell’s Empire Film Distribution to distribute the package across the breadth of Texas on a limited “states right’ basis. But by November of 1959, McLendon would strike a more geographically encompassing deal with Samuel Z. Arkoff and James H. Nicholson of American International Pictures to distribute the Shrews and Gila package nationwide.

The Killer Shrews (under the provisional title of The Attack of the Killer Shrews) was mostly shot at Dallas’s United National Film Corporation Studio, with production of The Giant Gila Monster to immediately follow. The crew of both films were to begin arriving in Dallas on January 3, 1959, with filming to commence at United on January 17. McClendon advised that his company was financing both productions at 100%. “There will be no sale of stock and we are paying to bring in Hollywood talent,” he confirmed.

The talent McLendon would bring to Dallas was not inconsequential. Ray Kellogg, a Hollywood regular whose primary resume was in the field of special effects photography, was brought on to direct both films. Though Kellogg boasted no professional on-screen “first chair” directing experience, he had previously served as an uncredited second unit director on two big budget pictures for 20^th Century Fox. The producer of The Killer Shrews was Ken Curtis, the son-in-law of director John Ford and actor recognizable for his many appearances in western films. Curtis had only recently worked with John Wayne and William Holden in John Ford’s U.S. civil war action film The Horse Soldiers (United Artists, 1959). Curtis had already pivoted to cast himself as an on-screen baddie in Shrews.

Ben Chapman, a production manager and occasional assistant director back in Hollywood, was brought on to make certain things ran smoothly and on schedule. The script (and original story) for The Killer Shrews came courtesy of novice screenwriter Jay Simms. Simms would also share writing credit on The Giant Gila Monster with director Kellogg. Simms would later carve a niche for himself in Hollywood as a dependable contributing writer on a staggering number of television crime and drama series of his era. In between TV assignments he also found the time to scribe screenplays for two cheapie sci-fi features: The Creation of the Humanoids (Emerson Film Enterprises, 1962) and Panic in Year Zero! (AIP, 1962).

As for on screen talent, McClendon’s films featured two particularly lovely ladies. Swedish blond Ingrid Goude, a former Miss Sweden and Miss Universe runner-up contender, was cast as Ann Craigis in The Killer Shrews. Brunette Lisa Simone, Miss France of 1957 and yet another Miss Universe candidate, was signed to play “Lisa” in The Giant Gila Monster. Goude would enjoy more screen-time and dialogue than Simone: the latter’s English was not up to par and the script gave her little to do. Neither actress would enjoy long careers in the film industry, both getting occasional bit parts, often uncredited. Lightning did not strike, and neither would receive a screen or television credit following the years 1961/1962.

To be fair, actor Don Sullivan’s career (“Chase Winstead” in Gila) wasn’t long lasting either: though he would achieve a measure of cult-figure status amongst fans of 1950’s low-budget sci-fi films. In 1959 alone, Sullivan would appear in four consecutive monster flicks: The Monster of Piedras Blancas, Curse of the Undead, Teenage Zombies and The Giant Gila Monster. The only actor cast who would go on to enjoy a long-standing career in the film and television industry was James Best (“Thorne Sherman” in The Killer Shrews). Best would attain a cult status of his own for his role as the bumbling Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane in television’s The Dukes of Hazzard.

It was a gamble for such Hollywood talents – either in front or behind the camera - to work on a regional production outside of union oversight. But Dallas was a long way from Hollywood. McLendon was aware his films simply could not be made on the skimpy budgets he allotted, expressing concern his enterprise might attract unwanted attention by labor groups. Nonetheless, he suggested it would be wise for the unions “to give us a chance to grow. The unions can stamp us out if they make the same manpower demands as are asked in Hollywood.” In any case, the McLendon’s extremely tight shooting schedules allowed the film’s artisans to be back in Tinseltown before most anyone noticed they were even missing.

The day of first shooting of The Killer Shrews was pushed to from January 17 to January 19, with shooting wrapping on January 30. The first week of production was mostly consigned to exterior shoots in and around the red dirt “bush country” of Lake Dallas, a forty-minute drive from downtown Dallas. The outdoor scenes were all in the can by January 20 – a lucky break as local weather events had not been accommodating, the Corpus Christi Times reporting the filmmaker’s exterior shoots were plagued by “bad weather… northerners and an ice storm.” Interior photography took place at United National with post-production work following, allotting a two-week gap between Shrews and Gila.

With The Killer Shrews in post-production, The Giant Gila Monster was slated to roll before the cameras on February 16, 1959. This film would be allotted an even tighter ten-day shooting schedule. All of the film’s interiors were to be shot at United National. The McLendon’s were nothing if not supremely confident in their film industry investment. “This is the first time a feature-length picture has ever been produced in Dallas as far as I know,” crowed McClendon. “Several attempts started big but wound up regrettably. What we are trying to do is make pictures in Dallas on a reasonable and very professional basis.”

The McLendon’s were optimistic of their prospects, and put their money where their mouth was. On February 1, 1959, it was reported that McLendon Corp. had purchased its very own movie studio on the grounds surrounding Lake Dallas, a 500,000 acre lot in nearby Denton. The purchase itself would require an additional $500,000 refurbishing effort and the building of a suitable second sound stage. It was reported that part of HPC’s second effort, The Giant Gila Monster would also be shot in and around the Lake Dallas area.

The scenario of The Giant Gila Monster would trade-on some of the familiar teenage-age-hot-rod-rock n’ roll- monster-movie totems. In most of these JD films, the primary teen (in the case of Gila, thirty- year old Don Sullivan playing one) would usually find himself in loggerheads with the small town police force. This is not the case in Gila as Sheriff Jeff (Fred Graham) and Sullivan are close friends. The Sheriff practically deputizes the “teen” and his Coca-Cola-in-a-bottle drinking friends to help investigate a strange string of disappearances and car wrecks in the area.

You're gonna need a bigger wallet! This year marks the 50th anniversary of Steven Spielberg's "Jaws". As you might imagine, there are plenty of celebratory events and products in the works to commemorate the occasion, ranging from a theatrical re-release to a new video set as well as a special vinyl album of John Williams' classic score. There will also be a slew of official collectibles. For more details, click here.

We are pleased to announce that Cinema Retro magazine has once again been nominated for Best Magazine by the Rondo Hatton Classic Horror Awards. (Rondo Hatton was the famed character actor who often played villains in "B" movies that are now cult favorites.) Although Cinema Retro differs from most of our worthy competitors because we are not strictly a horror-themed magazine, apparently we do cover the genre enough to impress the nominating group.

We also offer our congratulations to Cinema Retro contributors who were nominated. Photographer Mark Mawston was among the team members nominated for Best Graphics Art Presentation for the book "The Amazing Movie Posters of Thailand" and Paul Scrabo (along with Rich Scrivani) were nominated for Favorite Commentator for their work on the Imprint Blu-ray of "The Mummy's Tomb". 

You can click here to submit your votes. Thanks for your continued support.

Gene Hackman was a man who valued his privacy. While most celebrities fight to get in front of a camera, Hackman generally avoided publicity or interviews. In this December, 1972 segment from "The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson", Hackman appeared to promote his new film "The Poseidon Adventure" and tells some amusing anecdotes about working with Shelly Winters.

By Todd Garbarini

I have read many accounts about film directors who sought out specific actors or actresses to appear in their newest film project, only to find that the individual was extraordinarily difficult to work with. This can range from asking for their trailer to be lavished with loads of swag, to more seemingly ludicrous demands, including, but not limited to, having the cast and crew speak to them only through an intermediary, or refusing to act opposite certain co-stars.

Actor Marlon Brando notoriously gave director Francis Ford Coppola such a run for his money on the set of Apocalypse Now (1979) that one wonders why Mr. Coppola hired him in the first place. Having refused the Academy Award bestowed upon him in 1973 for the Best Actor role of Don Vito Corleone in Mr. Coppola’s The Godfather (1972), a film which brought Mr. Brando out of the cinematic doldrums and put Mr. Coppola on the map, Mr. Brando was not only paid three million dollars for three weeks’ worth of work, but failed to know his lines and never read the story upon which Apocalypse Now was based, forcing his director to scramble and improvise. This is nothing compared to the rumored indignities he lavished upon director Frank Oz on the set of The Score (2001) when he would only speak to him through Robert De Niro and engage in other outlandish behavior too ludicrous to recount here.

David Schmoeller, the director of one of my favorite thrillers, Tourist Trap (1979), found himself in a similar plight when he was contracted by producer Charles Band to write an original script based on his sold and unproduced screenplay called The Peeper. The idea was to fit the story into the remaining sets of ventilation ducts and corridors that were used for Mr. Band's just-completed outing, Troll. In an astute maneuver harkening back to Roger Corman’s maverick days of guerrilla filmmaking, Mr. Schmoeller fashioned a tale of a Josef Mengele-style Nazi doctor’s son named Karl Gunther, once a respectable physician who resorted to euthanasia of many hospital patients as a way of ending their suffering and is now possessed by a God complex. He ensnares attractive young women in his lair and slowly tortures them to death. The film’s title, Crawlspace, may sound familiar as it has been used numerous times by films made over the past fifty years. This movie, which was produced on sets in Italy during October and November of 1985 and released in Los Angeles on Friday, September 26, 1986, stars the inimitable Klaus Kinski, whose reputation as a difficult actor who was prone to bouts of uncontrollable rage and fury with the crew members.

Gunther is now the owner and super of an apartment building that he only rents to attractive young women. He has access to adjacent rooms through the crawlspace where he spies on them. Gunther is two-sided: congenial and pleasant to his future victims, but also ruthless and self-loathing over his desire to torture them. He plays a Deer Hunter-style of Russian Roulette with a single round in a six-chamber pistol that he presses to his forehead in the hopes of ending this tortuous existence. His latest tenant is Lori Bancroft (Talia Balsam), a young woman who inadvertently finds herself in a maze of booby traps set to prevent her from leaving the premises while in Gunther’s clutches, and her performance just is not up to snuff with the best scream queen contemporaries of the time, such as Jamie Lee Curtis, Heather Langenkamp, or Linnea Quigley. Carol Francis, who appeared opposite Tisa Farrow in James Toback’s Fingers (1978), appears in a silly role, and Tane McClure appears in a rape fantasy sex scene that recalls Deborah Burgess’s “attack” in Richard Ciupka’s Curtains (1983). Gunther is approached by the brother of one of his victims and dispatches with him in the only male-oriented murder in the film. The film runs a mere 80 minutes, but it is a great time capsule of a film that accurately depicts the mid-1980s through the hairstyles and wardrobe choices.

There is not much here in the way of suspense, certainly not on the order of the grimy terror that plagued the unwitting women in Tourist Trap. However, like that film, Crawlspace benefits from a Pino Donaggio-composed score.

Crawlspace made its home video debut on VHS and Beta in 1988 on Lightning Video. MGM released it on DVD in 2002 on a double feature with the 1980 Carrie Snodgress film The Attic. Scream Factory released a now out-of-print Blu-ray in 2013 with some extras. Kino Lorber has now secured the rights and has made the film available on Blu-ray with the following extras:

The first audio commentary is from director Schmoeller. It is ported over from the Scream Factory edition, and he discusses the origins of the film, the history of making it, the cast members involved and how difficult it was working with Mr. Kinski, including the efforts that were made to replace him, which ultimately failed.

The second audio commentary is new and exclusive to this Blu-ray and is worth the price of the purchase alone. Film historian John Harrison speaks eloquently and with a great deal of knowledge regarding the film and the cast members. He also references other works, including Michael Powell’s Peeping Tom (1960). Even if you are not a fan of Crawlspace, I would recommend getting this Blu-ray just to listen to this commentary as it is a wonderful journey through cinematic knowledge.

Interview with Makeup FX Artist John Vulich runs 8:33 and is ported over from the Scream Factory edition wherein he confirms the unorthodox means necessary to placate and work with the film’s leading man.

Please Kill Mr. Kinski runs 9:05 and is ported over from the Scream Factory edition. It details the director’s frustrations working with Mr. Kinski. Alternately funny yet bewildering, it makes one wonder why anyone would hire the man.

Rounding out the extras are the requisite theatrical trailer and the television commercials for the film.

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

“CHAPLIN GETS SERIOUS”

By Raymond Benson

When the famous United Artists studio was formed in 1919 by D. W. Griffith, Mary Pickford, Douglas Fairbanks, and Charlie Chaplin, the organization was intended to showcase works by the four principles as well as other talents in Hollywood at the time. Chaplin then made his first feature film, The Kid, released in 1921. It was a huge success. For his next feature, however, Chaplin made the radical decision to produce and direct a serious drama in which he did not appear.

Because of his clout with the studio and in Hollywood, he was indulged. A Woman of Paris, a silent film released in 1923, was indeed a serious drama about class/societal differences. It starred Edna Purviance, a popular leading lady mostly known for the earlier comedy shorts in which she appeared with Chaplin himself. And, no, Chaplin, the “Little Tramp,” is nowhere to be seen… but wait! Isn’t that Chaplin walking on, almost unrecognizable and uncredited, as a train porter? Yes! But very few people at the time would have realized it.

A Woman of Paris often gets lost in discussions about Chaplin’s features. His comic masterpieces take up all the space. That said, A Woman of Paris should not be discounted. It is indeed a wonderful picture that broke new ground in the way realism was presented in the silent era. Upon its release, the movie garnered excellent reviews from critics, but audiences weren’t interested. If it was supposed to be a Chaplin movie, they wanted to see the Little Tramp and laugh. The film was more or less a failure.

Chaplin re-issued the film late in his life, in 1976, with a brand new orchestral score that he composed himself. He also deleted about eight minutes total from the picture to tighten it up. This re-release was re-evaluated and proclaimed just as much a masterpiece as his more well known comedies.

The story is relatively simple. The era in which it takes place is ambiguous, but it’s most certainly late 1800s or early 1900s in France. Marie St. Clair (Purviance) lives in a small village with her cruel stepfather. She and her lover, an artist named Jean (Carl Miller), plan to run away to the big city of Paris to elope, never to return. Jean’s parents, however, are also not the nicest in the world. Jean’s father wants his son to have nothing to do with Marie, as she is considered to be even of a lower class than his family. While enacting the couple’s plans to flee to Paris, an accident of circumstances prevents Jean from joining Marie at the train station (his father dies suddenly). Marie believes Jean has jilted her and goes on to Paris alone. A year later, Marie is enjoying Paris high society life as a courtesan. She is involved with a very wealthy cad, Pierre (Adolphe Menjou), who has no loyalty to Marie or anyone else. Fate intervenes, though, and Marie runs into Jean, now living alone in Paris as a painter. Their relationship is rekindled, but now, with Pierre in the picture, it’s a triangle of manners, social navigating, and betrayals. Marie finds herself on a path toward tragedy, of course, but the eventual outcome might surprise some.

In its brief 81 minutes, A Woman of Paris is captivating and always interesting for any audience who can meet a silent picture on its own terms. Most dramas of the period were performed in a somewhat exaggerated melodramatic fashion, but here the acting is extremely naturalistic. The characters on the screen behave like real people. This was unusual for 1923. Edna Purviance is fine in the lead role, but it is Adolphe Menjou, as the always-smiling heavy of the piece, who steals the picture. Chaplin’s direction of the proceedings is assured and never sentimental. One would have thought that the master of pathos (in his comedies) might have overlain a serious drama with too much of it. Here, pathos is practically non-existent, and that’s a good thing.

The Criterion Collection’s new Blu-ray release is a 4K digital restoration of the 1976 re-release version, and it looks marvelous. It features Chaplin’s gorgeous score, but there is also the option to play an alternate score, created in 2005, by Timothy Brock.

A new supplement is an insightful video essay by Chaplin biographer Jeffrey Vance. Other supplements are either ported over from the old MK2 DVD (“Chaplin Today: A Woman of Paris” featurette with appearances by Liv Ullmann and Michael Powell; deleted scenes; and archival footage) and other vintage pieces, one in French with English subtitles and an audio interview with cinematographer Roland Totheroh. There are trailers and, in the packaging, an essay by critic Pamela Hutchinson and notes on the Brock score by the composer.

For fans of Charles Chaplin, silent film dramas, and Hollywood history. Recommended.

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THREE CLASSIC CLINT EASTWOOD FAVORITES

COMING TO 4K ULTRA HD ON APRIL 29

DIRTY HARRY, THE OUTLAW JOSEY WALES AND PALE RIDER

WILL BE AVAILABLE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 4K RESOLUTION WITH

HIGH DYNAMIC RANGE (HDR)

Cinema Retro has received the following press release from Warner Bros. Discovery Home Entertainment 

Burbank, Calif., March 5, 2025– Three films from legendary filmmaker Clint Eastwood – Dirty Harry, The Outlaw Josey Wales and Pale Rider (40th anniversary), will be released for the first time on 4K Ultra HD and Digital on April 29.

2021 marked the 50th year of Clint Eastwood’s partnership with Warner Bros., which began in 1971 with the release of Dirty Harry. Over the course of his remarkable career, Eastwood, a 4-time Academy Award winner, has received a number of lifetime and career achievement honors, including the Motion Picture Academy’s Irving Thalberg Memorial Award and the Hollywood Foreign Press Association’s Cecil B. DeMille Award.  He has also garnered tributes from the Directors Guild of America, the Producers Guild of America, the Screen Actors Guild, the American Film Institute, the Film Society of Lincoln Center, the French Film Society, the National Board of Review, and the Henry Mancini Institute.  He is also the recipient of a Kennedy Center Honor, the California Governor’s Award for the Arts, and France’s Commandeur de la Legion d’honneur.

About the films:

DIRTY HARRY - 1971

Academy Award winner Clint Eastwood stars as no-holds-barred San Francisco cop Dirty Harry Callahan in this action thriller that began an action franchise. When detective Harry Callahan is assigned to pay extortion money to a serial murderer, the payoff goes wrong. Now with the life of a 14-year-old girl at stake, Callahan refuses to allow anything--including the law--to keep him from stopping the killer.

The film is directed by Don Siegel. The screenplay is by Harry Julian Fink, R.M. Fink, and Dean Riesner from a story by Harry Julian Fink and R.M. Fink.  The film is produced by Don Siegel.  Dirty Harry stars Clint Eastwood, Andy Robinson, Harry Guardino, Reni Santoni, and John Vernon.

Dirty Harry was selected in 2008 by Empire as one of The 500 Greatest Movies of All Time. The film was ranked No. 41 on the American Film Institute’s 100 Years ... 100 Thrills, a list of America's most heart-pounding movies, and Harry Callahan was selected as the 17th greatest movie hero on 100 Years ... 100 Heroes & Villains. The movie's famous quote "You've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel lucky?' Well, do ya, punk?" was ranked 51st on 100 Years ... 100 Movie Quotes.

In February 2025, the 4K remaster of the film premiered at the Berlinale Film Festival as part of the Berlinale Classics program which showcases digitally restored film classics.

Dirty Harry 4K UHD contains the following new and previously released special features:  

Commentary by Richard Schickel

“Generations and Dirty Harry” - NEW

Lensing Justice: The Cinematography of Dirty Harry - NEW

American Masters Career Retrospective: “Clint Eastwood: Out of the Shadows”

“Clint Eastwood: The Man from Malpaso”

“Clint Eastwood: A Cinematic Legacy – Fighting for Justice”

Interview Gallery: Patricia Clarkson, Joel Cox, Clint Eastwood, Hal Holbrook, Evan Kim, John Milius, Ted Post, Andy Robinson’ Arnold Schwarzenegger, Robert Urich.

“Dirty Harry’s Way”

“Dirty Harry: The Original”

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THE OUTLAW JOSEY WALES - 1976

Academy Award winner Clint Eastwood stars in and directs this fast-paced Western about the fight for vengeance by a Missouri farmer whose family is murdered in the last days of the United States' Civil War.

The film is directed by Clint Eastwood. The screenplay is by Phil Kaufman and Sonia Chernus and is based on the novel “Gone to Texas” by Forrest Carter. The film is produced by Robert Daly.  The Outlaw Josey Wales stars Clint Eastwood, Chief Dan George, Sondra Locke, Bill McKinney, and John Vernon.

The Outlaw Josey Wales was nominated for the Academy Award for Original Music Score. In 1996, it was deemed "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant" by the United States Library of Congress and selected for preservation in the National Film Registry.

The Outlaw Josey Wales 4K UHD contains the following new and previously released special features:  

Commentary by Richard Schickel

“An Outlaw and an Antihero” - NEW

“The Cinematography of and Outlaw: Crafting Josie Wales” - NEW

“Clint Eastwood’s West”

“Eastwood in Action”

“Hell Hath No Fury: The Making of The Outlaw Josey Wales”

“Clint Eastwood: A Cinematic Legacy – Reinventing the West”

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PALE RIDER - 1985

With 1985's Pale Rider, Clint Eastwood returned to the western genre with a vengeance as the movie became the highest grossing western of that decade. Eastwood, who also directed the hit film, plays a nameless stranger who rides into a small California gold rush town (and becomes known as the "Preacher") where he finds himself in the middle of a feud between a mining syndicate and a group of independent prospectors.

The film is produced and directed by Clint Eastwood and written by Michael Butler and Dennis Shryack.  The film stars Clint Eastwood, Michael Moriarty, Carrie Snodgress, Christopher Penn, Richard Dysart, Sydney Penny, Richard Kiel, Doug McGrath, and John Russell.

Pale Rider 4K UHD contains the following new and previously released special features:  

“The Diary of Sydney Penny: Lessons from the Set” - NEW

“Painting the Preacher: Bruce Surtees and Pale Rider” - NEW

“Clint Eastwood: A Cinematic Legacy – Reinventing Westerns”

“Eastwood Directs: The Untold Story”

“The Eastwood Factor”

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By Doug Oswald

The WWII exploits of George Tweed who evaded capture by the Japanese on the island of Guam are portrayed in“No Man ss an Island”, available on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber. The movie opens at the U.S. Navy communications station on Guam prior to the island invasion by the Japanese. The Japanese quickly sweep through Guam and the remaining Americans surrender. Tweed, portrayed by Jeffery Hunter, assumes command of the men at the station after their Chief is killed during an air strike.

On the run, Tweed and the other men are aided by various Guam natives who hide them, feed them and help them evade capture by the Japanese who have put out a bounty for their capture. Soon, Tweed is the only one left alive after the other men are shot and beheaded and he finds refuge at a leper colony. There he starts typing a resistance newsletter based on information he gets from American radio broadcasts. The newsletter gets into the hands of a Guam official collaborating with the Japanese and they trace the newsletter to the leper colony which the Japanese destroy.

Tweed then finds himself in the hands of a local farmer and his family who hide him atop a nearby hilltop overlooking the bay, the entrance of which is hidden by thick bushes and trees. The family helps Tweed by bringing him food and supplies. Tweed builds a mirrored semaphore device out of an empty tin container, and he uses it to signal an offshore American Naval vessel which soon rescues him.

Based on the 1945 book "Robinson Crusoe, USN," the real life Tweed hid from the Japanese on Guam for two years and seven months before being rescued just prior to the second Battle of Guam in October 1944. He was helped by many local people in Guam, being moved to several different locations until his rescue. Tweed was a married man with a family (they were evacuated from Guam in October 1941 along with other U.S. nationals), but you wouldn’t know that watching this film which introduces a romantic sub-plot. The film takes other liberties with the story as well due to time that make it feel feel as though he was on the run for a shorter period of time.

Jeffrey Hunter does a fine job as Tweed and carries himself well in a uniform and as an experienced military man. He served in the U.S. Navy from May 1945 to May 1946 and was medically discharged. Prior to this film, Hunter played a Canadian sailor serving in the British Navy who gets stranded on an island fighting the Germans in "Sailor of the King" in 1953. He was a U.S. Army Calvary soldier in “Sergeant Rutledge” in 1960 and a U.S. Marine in “Hell to Eternity” also from 1960. In 1962 he had a memorable role as Sergeant John Fuller in the star-studded “The Longest Day.” Hunter was a versatile actor going from movies to television and played Captain Christopher Pike in the pilot episode of “Star Trek” in 1966. He was being groomed to become a big star and featured in some of the biggest films of the 1950s and 1960s including playing John Wayne’s sidekick, Martin Pawley, in the 1956 classic western “The Searchers;” and Jesus in the big screen religious epic, “King of Kings” in 1961. His Hollywood career took a downturn in the mid-Sixties, and he went to Europe, but with little success. He was injured while working on a film in Spain in November 1968 where he suffered a serious concussion in an on-set explosion. He developed a brain hemorrhage and skull fracture after falling down steps and hitting his head at home on 26 May 1969. Doctors performed brain surgery, and he died the next day. He was only 42 years-old.

Hunter is joined in the film by Marshall Thompson as fellow radioman John Sonnenberg. Many supporting players from the Philippine film industry also appear in the film which was filmed on location in the Philippines. Barbara Perez plays “Joe” Cruz, the daughter of the local farmer who helps Tweed hide from the Japanese. Perez gets an “Introducing Barbara Pere courtesy of Sampaguita Pictures, Philippines” credit in what appears to be her only appearance in a Hollywood production. She appeared in dozens of Philippine films before and after “No Man is an Island” and was dubbed the Audrey Hepburn of the Philippines during publicity for the film. The cast of mostly Philippine actors played both the people of Guam and the Japanese soldiers.

Financed by Gold Coast Productions and released by Universal in September 1962, the film was written, directed and produced by Richard Goldstone and John Monks, Jr. They each use their signature in the opening credits in what is essentially their sole collaboration as writer, director and producer. While the film veers from the true life events, it’s still a very watchable and entertaining movie and Hunter does a very good job carrying the bulk of the film.

The Kino Lorber Blu-ray has a very nice audio commentary by Steve Mitchell and Steven Jay Rubin which offer both historical context on the real-life George Tweed during the Japanese occupation of Guam and on the film production and star Jeffrey Hunter. The disc also contains trailers for this and seven other Kino Lorber releases. The movie is highly recommended for fans of Jeffrey Hunter and WWII movies.

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By Hank Reineke

The ever-crowding field of horror film scholarship lost a very important contributor when author David J. Skal was killed, New Year’s Day 2024, in an automobile collision. According to his literary agent, Skal, riding in the passenger seat of his partner’s automobile, was killed when a car traveling opposite crossed the median. Mr. Skal’s long-time partner, Robert Postawko, briefly survived the terrible crash, but he too would succumb due to injuries sustained

On 18 February 2025, University of Minnesota Press published a revised edition of Skal and Elias Savada’s Dark Carnival: the Secret World of Tod Browning – Hollywood’s Master of the Macabre. This new edition, already well-into-the-works prior to Skal’s tragic passing, promised the “extensive use of Browning’s personal scrapbooks and photographic archives.” Such rare material had been unavailable to the authors at the time of the book’s original 1995 publication.

This amended version of Dark Carnival will likely serve as the final major project of David J. Skal, the Publisher’s Foreword noting the author had, “tragically passed away during the final weeks of this edition’s production.” As a film historian Skal certainly has left behind a legacy. During a career of forty-odd years, he had served as an essayist, contributor, editor, short-story writer, novelist of both fiction and non-fiction works, and film and television documentarian. One of Skal’s most recent projects was his contributing audio commentaries to Criterion’s Blu- ray set of “Tod Browning’s Sideshow Shockers: Freaks (1932), The Unknown (1927) and The Mystic (1925). That glorious release of silent film classics was released in October of 2023, only a few months prior to Skal’s passing.

If anyone was best- suited in providing Criterion with expert commentaries re: the career of Tod (“The Edgar Allan Poe of Cinema”) Browning, it was certainly Skal. In 1995, Anchor Books/Doubleday first published Dark Carnival, a seminal study of Browning’s melancholic life and his thematically dark and unsettling oeuvre. A self-professed “monster kid,” Dark Carnival was not the first of Skal’s book-length works to study horror-film history and the genre’s cultural impact.

In the five years preceding Dark Carnival, Skal had published such other non-fiction studies as Hollywood Gothic: The Tangled Web of Dracula from Novel to Stage to Screen (W.W. Norton & Co., New York 1990) and The Monster Show: A Cultural History of Horror (W.W. Norton & Co., 1993). The latter title remains, perhaps, his best known work. Shortly following the original publication of Dark Carnival, Skal published the less academic, more pop-culture friendly encyclopedia, V is for Vampire: the A-Z Guide to Everything Undead (Plume, 1996). The author’s primary interests, as one might guess, tended to all things macabre.

Prior to Dark Carnival, Tod Browning remained one of the most elusive figures of early cinema studies. Browning was something of a polarizing character amongst critics and peers alike: some thought him “an unassailable auteur of cinematic darkness,” others belittled his work as that of a hack. Some thought of Browning as a “kindly and generous person,” others saw him as an “obsessively private” person of “nasty disposition,” a “classic Hollywood son of a bitch with a morbid streak a mile wide.” Celebrated by one circle of cineaste admirers, others derided his directorial legacy as a miasma of recycled storylines, exploitational tropes and relationship dysfunction. In the book’s prologue, the authors suggest they found the writing of Browning’s biography as most challenging when attempting to sort out historical fact from fiction. Their research was further hindered as the curmudgeonly Browning chose to leave “the world no reminisces, no diaries, no official recounts of his career, affecting an indifference to the film medium that approached outright contempt.” He was, from the very beginning, an outcast.

Dark Carnival mixes straight biography and film criticism in equal measure. Born Charles Alpert (“Tod”) Browning in Louisville, Kentucky, 12 July 1880 – or, perhaps, as early as 1874. Even his correct birthdate was obfuscated, Browning’s personal account differing from the official record. As a young man Browning wasn’t particularly religious in belief, though he did cultivate a lifelong obsession with baseball, alcohol and – especially - show business. Browning was particularly interested in performing as ringmaster. As a child he would put on penny admission shows in a shed behind his family home.

Uninterested in a life tending horses or working for the railroad, Browning was fascinated by the exotic pageantry to which he was introduced in and around Louisville. He was especially taken by the annual Mardi Gras-style atmosphere of the Satellites of Mercury Parade, of the colorful, roving gypsy encampments he encountered outside of the newly christened Kentucky Derby at Churchill Downs, of the raucous entertainments offered in the vaudeville playhouses and burlesque theatres aligning the city’s “raffish” riverfront.

When, at age nine in 1890, a devastating tornado swept through Louisville, Browning was witness to the terrible structural and human wreckage left in the storm’s wake. It may have been a result of this experience that Browning became haunted, perhaps obsessed, by the sight of the maimed, crippled human bodies that littered the streets of his hometown. Browning would marry Amy Louis Stevens in March of 1906, but as he had a roguish “roving eye,” he abandoned his first wife in the summer of 1909, having “not contributed anything towards her support or maintenance.”

The truth was his true real love was show business. Oddly, Browning became obsessed with those whom many saw as the lowest-rung practitioners of show business: carnival folk and their peripatetic gypsy troupes. His people were the barkers of ballyhoo, the sideshow freaks, geeks, midgets, sword swallowers, snake handlers, fire eaters, contortionists and “wild men” from parts unknown. Those of higher station status saw such performers as migratory panhandlers: alcoholics, swindlers and grifters, all scuffling for the pennies and nickels of gullible gentile audiences. The symbiotic relationship between the two disparate groups was transactional: the book alleges that, “The carny ethos divided the world into two rigid camps: show people and everyone else – “suckers,” marks,” and “rubes.”

Browning would throw his lot in with the former. He did a spell as a carny, allowing himself to be buried alive nightly as a so-called “Hypnotic Living Corpse.” He later graduated from carny life to the stages of vaudeville and burlesque houses. There he worked alongside magicians and illusionists, carefully studying the deceptive tricks-of-the-trade of the psychic-mesmerists. A chance meeting in 1913 with D.W. Griffith gave Browning the opportunity to travel to Los Angeles and act in no fewer than fifty one-reel comedies circa 1913-1915. In 1915 he ambitiously moved to the director’s chair. Browning would helm a number of one or two reel silent melodramas as director, many of these early storylines reworked and revisited later in his career.

His alcoholism was becoming more obvious. One raucous “roadhouse revel” led to a terrible collision of his car with a railroad flatbed. The collision fractured Browning’s leg and caused him serious internal injury and the loss of most of his teeth. Tragically, the unfortunate passenger in Browning’s vehicle was killed instantly, the impact so violent that imprints of the flatbed’s iron rails were found pressed into the victim’s skull. The authors note that none of Browning’s colleagues interviewed could recollect him ever talking about the incident, much less offering any “”feelings of responsibility” or complicity in the death of his friend.

Following a period of convalescence, Browning returned to directing silent pics for Metro. In 1918, Browning came to the attention of Irving G. Thalberg, then with Universal. Signing with Universal, Browning helmed a number of five and six reelers for the company, two of which featured one of their big silent stars, the actress Priscilla Dean. Those two films, The Wicked Darling (1919) and Outside the Law (1920), would introduce Browning to their otherwise unheralded co-star, Lon Chaney.

Though Browning would freelance on productions of several other film companies, both he and Chaney would follow Thalberg in the latter’s defection to MGM. It was during this period with MGM that Browning’s melodramatic, envelope-pushing cycle of silent films – all made in collaboration with Chaney - that solidified his reputation as a bankable director of merit: The Unholy Three (1925), The Blackbird (1926), The Road to Mandalay (1926), The Unknown (1927), London after Midnight (1927), The Big City (1928), West of Zanzibar (1928) and Where East is East (1929). When sound film production became the norm, things changed.

The authors of Dark Carnival remind, “Neither Browning nor Chaney was comfortable with the prospect of a talking screen: their art, after all, was firmly rooted in the tradition of pantomime.” Indeed, Chaney would appear in only one sound film prior to his passing in August 1930, Jack Conway’s talking version of The Unholy Three. Robbed of his primary collaborator, Browning would direct his first sound production for MGM, The Thirteenth Chair (1929), before signing a contract with Universal to remake his own Outside the Law (1930), Edward G. Robinson now cast in the role Chaney played a decade earlier.

While working on The Thirteenth Chair, Browning made the odd decision to cast a “perversely inappropriate” actor, Bela Lugosi, as a police inspector of mysterious personage. The authors suggest Lugosi’s against-type casting – abetted by the actor’s uber-melodramatic performance and lugubrious speaking voice – was intentional. Browning had been “colluding with the actor” to get Universal to consider the offer “of a screen test for the film version of Dracula.” If this was the case, their gambit was successful. Lugosi would claim the title role and Browning would secure the director’s chair. Universal’s production of Dracula (1931) would, for all of its staginess, missed opportunities and long silences – prove Browning’s greatest success.

In contrast, Browning’s follow-up to Dracula, Iron Man, was a too-talkie and too stagey melodramatic photoplay that, similarly to the sound version of Outside the Law, opened to mixed reviews. Still confident in his talent, MGM would lure Browning back into the fold with a generous fifty-thousand dollar salary and three picture commitment. As further inducement, the studio offered Browning an additional 50K “adjustment check” for a trio of previous MGM pics Browning had done considerable advance work on – projects that had sadly fallen to the wayside due to Chaney’s illness. It was a speculative investment in Browning’s career the studio would come to regret.

The film Browning would choose to lens on his return to MGM was the notorious Freaks (1932). This pre-code film, in which a troupe of carnival “freaks” and human oddities avenge the cruel manipulation and murder plot against one of their own, retains the ability to shock even in 2025. The book’s chapter (“Offend One and You Offend Them All”) concerning the production – as well as the subsequent public and critical outrage following the release - of Freaks, is revelatory and fascinating, a compelling historical read-through.

Though Browning would go on to direct four more pictures in the wake of the controversies kicked up by Freaks, the stinging criticism to his grim melodrama signaled the beginning of the end of his career as director. Two of his remaining four pics, Mark of the Vampire (1935, a sound remake of his own London after Midnight) and The Devil Doll (1936) are passably interesting mystery-horror mellers, though both would underperform at the box office. The other two, Fast Workers (1933) and Miracles for Sale (1939) were efficient if unremarkable comedies. Unfortunately, and more damnably, these latter two pics had, similarly to Freaks, not only performed below expectation, but were outright money losers for MGM.

Though Browning continued to pitch ideas to MGM for future projects, his proposals were shunted aside or rejected outright. In time, Browning saw the writing on the wall: he had, in his own estimation, been “blackballed” from the film industry. He would “officially” retire in January of 1941, quietly retreating to his cottage in Malibu with his second wife, Alice (nee Wilson). Married in 1917, Alice would remain at her husband’s side (with periodic separations) despite Browning’s indiscretions – including a scandalous “drunken dalliance” with the under-age actress Anna May Wong. Following Alice’s passing in 1944, Browning became a virtual recluse – a brooding, gloomy melancholic with few close friendships.

Browning would spend his final years in near-isolation, drinking prodigious amounts of bottled beer and spending his days and insomniac nights watching baseball games and black-and-white movies on television. Prior to his death in October 1962, he demanded that no memorial or viewing be staged to commemorate his passing. Only a drinking-buddy – a house painter known only as “Lucky” – was allowed to visit his corpse and proffer one last post-mortem toast.

Browning’s biography is, to say the least, a unique one. Having lived a life nearly as haunted and troubled as his cinematic melodramas, I’m guessing it is unlikely that Browning’s story will ever be told better than here in the pages of Dark Carnival. The greatest platitude I can ascribe to Skal and Savada’s masterful study is that it rekindles genuine interest in the director’s filmography. The book ignites a desire to seek out as many of Browning’s extant films as one can source. The best books regarding cinema studies are those that leave readers curious to visit or revisit old film titles, either famous or forgotten. A superbly researched and elegantly written study, Dark Carnival is, without question, one such book.

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By Mark Edlitz

As a longtime reader of Cinema Retro myself, it's a privilege to share with my fellow readers some insights into my book, Movies Go Fourth: 4th Films in Fantastic Franchises. As the title suggests, the book focuses on the fourth film in the most beloved film series of all time. As such, I cover superhero films (Superman IV: The Quest for Peace and Batman & Robin), sci-films (Star Wars 4 and Star Trek IV), horror (Halloween, A Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13th, Jaws 4, Psycho 4), comedy (Meatballs 4, Police Academy 4), and action (Die Hard 4, the fourth Dirty Harry film, Sudden Impact). I also write about re-edited fourth films (Rocky 4) and unmade fourths (Godfather IV and Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man 4).

Why write a book about fourth movies in popular franchises? It’s a question that comes up quite a bit. Granted, it’s a strange topic for a book and even the premise requires a little explanation. Even my interview subjects would gently tease me about the subject. When I asked my youngest child if anyone was going to be interested enough to buy the book, they jibed, “What are you thinking? It’s not even about trilogies.” Point taken. There’s something about a fourth film that screams “cash grab” or, even worse, “bad movie.”

Trilogies used to signal that the franchise had entered popular culture and that it was deserving of three installments. Trilogies can also be considered the ideal form of storytelling, with a beginning, middle, and end. Each film represents one part of a three-act structure. The original Star Wars trilogy best exemplifies my point.

Given that, what happens when the trilogy is over and either the filmmakers or the studio wants to continue the series? What are the artistic and practical challenges they face? What happens when art and commerce come into conflict? What happens when the characters or stories lend themselves to additional entries? To find out the answer to these questions and many others, I decided to interview the filmmakers themselves.

Among other things, I learned that certain professions of the heroes naturally lend themselves to multiple movies. A homicide detective or private investigator can always catch another case. A spy can always be sent on another mission. Thus, the multiple Dirty Harry, Sherlock Holmes, and James Bond movies. There are decidedly fewer sequels about lawyers; thus no Verdict 2: Overruled.

Sometimes the nature of a character changes by their appearance in sequels. For instance, in the first Alien and Die Hard films, both Ellen Ripley and John McClane were set up as Average Joes who encounter an outsized adversary. But in subsequent features, they metaphorize into something closer to superhuman. In the fourth Alien flick, Ellen Ripley has now been cloned and possesses super strength. By the fourth Die Hard film, McClane is jumping off harrier jets. Before filming on the fourth Die Hard commenced, Bruce Willis saw that the characters’ core was drifting, and he enlisted his

Hostage screenwriter, Doug Richardson, to bring the series back to basics. Richardson had bold ideas on how to improve the film and make it much tougher. In one proposed scene, McClane would have been stuck under a crashed helicopter. To get out, Bruce would have used a knife to hack off his own hand. This would have a much more intense film than the PG-13 Live Free or Die Hard.

Other times, the fourth film is intended to “pass the torch” and change the lead character. The fourth Jason Bourne tried unsuccessfully to change leads, with Jeremy Renner taking over duties for Matt Damon, albeit with a newly created character. The fourth-Damonless film was not a success, and the actor was brought back for the next installment. Renner also figured in another example of a “passing the torch” attempt in include Jeremy Renner's efforts to succeed Tom Cruise in Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol. However, Renner did not reprise his role in either series’ fifth installment, both of which starred Cruise. After starring in three Karate Kid films, Ralph Macchio seemingly had his last karate kick, and future Oscar winner Hillary Swank was brought in as the titular Next Karate Kid. (Swank lasted only one film and Macchio returns to the film franchise in 2025’s Karate Kid: Legends). Similarly, the fourth Highlander film saw the demise of the immortal played by Christopher Lambert so that another lead- Adrian Paul- could lop off the heads of adversaries to the strains of the Queen soundtrack.

An ill-conceived fourth film can put a series on ice. After Joel Schumacher’s Batman & Robin was criticized for being too campy, it seemed that he “killed the franchise.” As such, the billion-dollar franchise laid dormant from 1997 to 2005 until Christopher Nolan wiped the slate clean and started a new series beginning with Batman Begins. The Jaws franchise has fared worse. Jaws: The Revenge proved to be the last Jaws film. Steven Spielberg, who was not involved in any official capacity in Jaws 2, 3, or 4, seemed to learn his lesson and applied it to the Jurassic Park series. Even though he only directed the first two films, Spielberg remained on for its many sequels as an executive producer.

When it comes to the titles of fourth films, sometimes there’s truth in advertising and sometimes not. The fourth Friday the 13th and Lake Placid were subtitled The Final Chapter. It goes without saying that the hatchet-wielding killer is still at large, and David E Kelly’s killer crocodile still has the munches. The fourth in the original Planet of the Apes film series was intended to conclude the series. But Conquest for Planet of the Apes, the fourth film in the original series proved so popular that a fifth film was put into production. Tim Burton’s remake followed in 2001 and even today audiences are going ape for a reboot series with photo-realistic primates. 2024’s Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, the fourth film in the reboot series, earned nearly $400 million at the box office and an Academy Award nomination for visual effects.

There are times when the fourth film becomes the most financially successful of the series. For instance, John Wick: Chapter 4, Mad Max: Fury Road, and Rocky IV, have out-earned all the earlier installments. Rocky IV was so popular that the 1985 film spawned a direct sequel in the form of 2018’s Creed II. Despite the fourth film’s outsized success, Sylvester Stallone wasn’t quite satisfied with the theatrical cut. So he tinkered with the movie, changed the tone, added about 40 minutes of “unseen” footage, and re-released it in 2021 as Rocky IV: Rocky vs. Drago – The Ultimate Director’s Cut. Stallone might have been happy with his 35th-anniversary re-cut, but fans of the “Rocky robot” were disheartened to see the lovable robot axed from the flick. I tracked down the robot’s creator and interviewed him for the book. Needless to say, he prefers the original cut.

The filmmakers I interviewed for Movies Go Fourth shared the highs and lows of franchise filmmaking. For instance, Joel Schumacher directed both Batman 3 (Batman Forever) and Batman 4 (Batman & Robin). Notably, both films feature many of the same creative team—the same director, writer, producer, production designer, director of photography, and composer. The filmmaker gives an open and revealing account of why one film worked and the other did not.

Mark Rosenthal spoke to me about his screenplay for Superman IV. The decision to re-hire Gene Hackman as Lex Luthor was meant to be a return to form for the flagging series. However, Cannon Films didn’t have the finances to realize his ambitious vision. As a result, set pieces were discarded or unconvincingly brought to life. Superman IV never really took flight.

There are some surprising stories about fourth entries. Joseph Stinson, writer of Sudden Impact, swoons as he describes Clint Eastwood’s fidelity to his script. He also described the uncanny feeling when then-President Reagan quoted his line, “Go ahead, make my day.”

The fourth Meatballs movie wasn’t even part of the franchise until after filming commenced. Instead, the movie started as an indie film titled Happy Campers and it starred Corey Feldman. Partway through filming, the producer informed the cast and crew that they were now making a Meatballs film. The filmmakers were not happy campers when they found out. The fourth Porky’s film was quickly made just to retain the rights. So it was shot in just 15 days, and the producers quietly released the cheapie film under the title Pimpin’ Pee Wee. Incidentally, when a film is made for the sole purpose of protecting copyright, it is dubiously dubbed an “ashcan copy.”

There are scores of commercial and artistic reasons for creating fourth installments in popular series. Fourth films can allow moviegoers to see their favorite characters in all new adventures. They are also a way for studio heads and executives to hedge their bets by delivering the familiar. For better or for worse, the fourth film can be the turning point in a franchise. The fourth Bond film, Thunderball, took the series to new (and, for some, unmatched) heights. The fourth film can also rejuvenate a flagging franchise or show a filmmaker in command of their craft. Alternatively, a fourth film can be when the wheels go off the wagon.

Not all the movies covered in Movies Go Fourth are staggering works of heartbreaking genius. But they were all made by a group of filmmakers who were doing their best to create the best movie they could, given the circumstances in which the films were made. In that context, sometimes the fourth time is the charm.

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By Fred Blosser 

“The Revenge of Ivanhoe” was released in Italy on January 22, 1965, under its original title, “La Rivincita di Ivanhoe,” and nine months later in West Germany as “Die Rache der Ivanhoe.” (Everything sounds scarier in German!) The German print is currently streaming on Tubi in the original 2.35:1 aspect with English dubbing and subtitles. The qualifier in the title, “Revenge,” might lead you to expect a sequel to “Ivanhoe,” the sumptuous 1952 MGM film based on Sir Walter Scott’s classic 1819 novel. But the Italian picture is actually another adaptation of the novel, stripped down to basics to fit a 90-minute running time, minus several of the supporting characters and subplots faithfully ported over from the novel in the earlier MGM version.

The fundamental storyline of fearless hero, rapacious villain, and damsel in distress remains the same. Returning from the Crusades, Ivanhoe discovers that his sweetheart, Lady Rowena, is being held as a virtual prisoner by the ambitious Lord Cedric of Hastings. Cedric plans to seize Rowena’s fortune by arranging a marriage with one of his henchmen. When she resists, Cedric accuses Rowena of conspiring with Saxon dissidents and brings her to trial. If she’s found guilty, she must forfeit her estate. The jury is packed with the nobleman’s cronies, and Cedric has toadied up to King John in the bargain, so the outcome is a foregone conclusion. But Rowena has a possible out. Under feudal law, she has the right to demand a trial by combat between Cedric’s slimy son, Bertrand, and any knight who will champion her cause. If Bertrand is defeated, she goes free. It seems unlikely that anyone will challenge Bertrand, who has a reputation as a ferocious man with a sword, but Ivanhoe learns of the announcement and shows up, incognito, to uphold truth and justice.

The MGM version of “Ivanhoe” was old-school Hollywood at its finest and shiniest, packed with lavish sets, exterior shots of real castles in England, and the considerable star power of Robert Taylor, Elizabeth Taylor, Deborah Kerr, and George Sanders. Made for a fraction of that budget, “The Revenge of Ivanhoe” can hardly compare. For the most part, the sword fights are as chaotic and bloodless as any that a bunch of ten-year olds might stage. Still, the B-movie limitations have their own charm if you’re fond of this kind of “thee, thou, and thine” pageantry as I am. The widescreen cinematography and Giuseppe Piccillo’s stately musical score give the production a level of credibility that might surprise you, especially if you remember this sort of assembly-line knockoff from the terrible, cropped prints that used to show up as late-night filler decades ago on local television outlets. The film’s director, Tania Boccia, billed as “Amerigo Anton,” was an Italian journeyman who made everything from gladiator epics to Spaghetti Westerns and spy adventures. Much of his style comes down simply to moving the actors from one place to another, but the same can be said of most 1960s genre directors anywhere who were tasked to meet tight deadlines and strict budgets.

Like other productions from the thriving Italian film industry of the ‘60s that attracted actors from around the world, “The Revenge of Ivanhoe” boasted a cast from enough different countries to constitute a United Nations quorum. Most of them were Italian, including Andrea Aureli as Ivanhoe’s nemesis Bertrand. Balding and forty-ish, Aureli is the weakest part of the ensemble; he looks more like an insurance salesman than the fastest sword in England. In some scenes, the ubiquitous Giovanni Cianfriglia can be glimpsed. A dark, strapping actor and stuntman who would have been better cast as Bertrand, Cianfriglia made scores of gladiator films and Westerns as “Ken Wood.” Gilda Lousek, as Rowena, was Argentinian, as was Duilio Marzio as Cedric. Polish actor Vladimiro Tuicovich plays Cedric’s advisor Rathbone, who encourages the nobleman’s bad behaviour and augments it with his own suggestions. Short and pudgy, with a shaven head and weaselly features, Tuicovich looks a little like Mike Myers’ Dr. Evil from the “Austin Powers” comedies, not a problem in 1965 but likely to cause modern viewers to make the comparison. In the role of Ivanhoe was Rik Van Nutter (1929-2005), billed in the credits as “Clyde Rogers.” Despite his blond, Germanic good looks, a name like “Van Nutter,” and the fact he made movies mostly in Europe, the actor was a native Californian, born Frederick Allan Nutter. He was once married—lucky guy—to Anita Ekberg in real life. He is probably most remembered from “Thunderball” (1965) as the third of the seven actors cast as Felix Leiter across six decades of the James Bond movies, and to my mind the best of the seven in screen presence. He’s a bit stiff as Ivanhoe, but no more than many of the actors who essayed roles as knights, musketeers, and Zorro in the ’50s and ‘60s, including Paul Henreid, Louis Heyward, and Frank Latimore, or more recently, Russell Crowe in Ridley Scott’s dismal 2010 version of “Robin Hood.” At least Van Nutter fulfils one vital requirement of the genre. He’s convincingly stalwart in tights and a matching chain link vest.

The Tubi print streams free with commercial interruptions and no option to avoid them. This may not be a serious obstacle for veteran B-movie fans who became accustomed to watching such fare on the Late Late Show in the 1970s, interspersed with local used-car and easy-credit ads. At least with streaming you can watch where and when you want, as you wait for the sadly remote chance that one of the boutique labels will ever release “The Revenge of Ivanhoe” in a good, hi-def print on Region 1 Blu-ray. (Note: we have learned that the film is also streaming on YouTube.)

(Fred Blosser is the author of "Focus on the Spaghetti Western #1:The Films of Tony Kendall". Click here to order from Amazon.)

(Photo:AMPAS.)

By Lee Pfeiffer

Here is my annual take on the most recent Academy Awards broadcast.

• Conan O'Brien may not be a household name outside of North America so I can't say how much that factor played into international enthusiasm for the broadcast. But in my humble opinion, O'Brien was very impressive, especially since he had confided beforehand that the responsibility of hosting the event was making him quite nervous. (Who could credibly say otherwise?) O'Brien's comedy shtick was old school, and I mean that in a positive way. The jokes weren't obscene and the punch lines landed more than they fell flat. Additionally, it was welcome to experience a broadcast that was (almost) devoid of political humor. The U.S. is currently going through a traumatic time in terms of political developments and every day brings a legitimate "Breaking News" story that pleases some people and alarms others. Additionally, the non-political atmosphere extended to the presenters and the winners with the exception of the filmmakers behind "No Other Land", which won for Best Documentary Feature Film. Probably due to its examination of the current crisis in Gaza, the movie has not been released theatrically in the U.S. but the winners did make an acceptance speech which was loaded with political overtones. However, as the film was made by both Palestinians and Israelis, the comments were at least "bipartisan" among the winners.
  
• "Wicked" stars Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande started the show off with a rousing, enthusiastically received musical numbers, appropriately "Over the Rainbow" from "The Wizard of Oz" and "Home" from "The Wiz". This format is so much more enjoyable than those grandiose but lumbering opening production numbers from years ago. Speaking of which, Conan O'Brien indulged in a misstep by headlining a satirical production that mocked those production numbers as having been "a waste of time". Ironically, the segment dragged on to long and became a waste of time itself.
  
• A highlight was the sober reflection of Conan O'Brien regarding the devastating California fires. This was followed by introducing a contingent of firefighters to represent those who fought so heroically to combat the blazes. The Academy also set up a fund through their organization to raise money for the many victims of the fires.
  
• The trend toward old-style elegance was evident in the fashions. There were, of course, some dresses that were a bit over-the-top but for the most part the female winners and presenters looked dazzling. Similarly, the male winners and presenters seem to be continuing the welcome trend of getting away from the "straight necktie with tuxedo" look that I never warmed to. Instead, the classic style tuxes were favored. Cary Grant always  looked great in that style and that alone provides a reason for emulating it.
  
• The Best Picture Award for the small, unheralded indie film "Anora" took the audience by surprise, as did the film's star, unknown actress Mikey Madison, who won Best Actress over sentimental favorite Demi Moore. The evening was a big win for Sean Baker, who took home the Best Director award. I was glad to see a "little" movie so honored, as the awards were clearly based on merit and I welcomed Sean Baker's passionate plea for movie fans to patronize theaters.
  
• I had no problem with Zoe Saldana's Best Supporting Actress win for "Emilia Perez", as she gave a fine performance. However, I was also  glad that the once-favored Netflix crime flick was denied the major awards, as it's one of the most ridiculous thrillers I've ever seen. Kieran Culkin's Best Supporting Actor win for "A Real Pain" led to one  of the more memorable acceptance speeches of the evening, with him reminding his wife that she once said they could have another child only when he wins an Oscar, a possibility that seemed remote at the time.
  
• Adrien Brody's  won Best Actor for the 3 1/2  hour production "The Brutalist". His win was a popular one, but probably not so in terms of his acceptance speech which droned on for so long I feared it would eclipse the running time of the film itself.
  
• The tribute to the music of the James Bond series was appropriate and three good songs were chosen: "Live and Let Die", "Diamonds are Forever" and "Skyfall". Fortunately, no one was tempted to include the dreadful "Quantum Of Solace". Producers Barbara Broccoli and Michael G. Wilson were in the audience, having been honored by the Academy with special Oscars last year. Given the concerns about the future of Bond, now in the hands of Amazon, the segment did seem like a way of the Academy saying "Thanks for the memories".
  
• The "In Memoriam" segment is always much-anticipated and much-debated. This year, the segment started with Morgan Freeman's on stage, moving tribute to Gene Hackman. The rest of the segment played out as tastefully constructed as usual. However, on this occasion, I made no attempt to chronicle the artists who deserved to be included but weren't. I suppose the annual ritual finally proved to be too annoying for me to indulge in. Suffice it to say that Turner Classic Movies presents a far more inclusive tribute to those we lost during the year. 
  

This Canadian Odeon Theatres newspaper display ad dates from 1967 and it shows a wealth of gems playing at the same time: Frank Sinatra as Tony Rome, The Sound of Music, Dick Van Dyke and Barbara Feldon in Fitzwilly and Far From the Madding Crowd. Ah, if we only had a time machine! 

Remember when the Oscar ceremonies considered it to be a highlight to present a lifetime achievement Oscar to a legendary veteran of the industry? Those were before such wonderful moments were excluded from the broadcast in favor of cramming in time-wasting comedy bits that would be more appropriate for the late-night talk shows. Today, the awards are presented at a separate ceremony and the broadcast treats viewers to a few cursory seconds of the recipient's acceptance speech. At least the great moments live on via YouTube, as evidenced by this wonderful presentation to Peter O'Toole in 2003. As Meryl Streep points out in her marvelous introduction, O'Toole had been nominated for the Oscar seven times, but never received one. O'Toole is the epitome of grace, humility and class in his acceptance speech, much to the delight of the legendary actors in the audience, including his old pals Sean Connery and Michael Caine. - Lee Pfeiffer

By John M. Whalen

“A MAN CAN DO THAT”

“The Killer Is Loose,” a new special edition Blu-ray from Kino Lorber, opens with a bank robbery in downtown Los Angeles. Leon “Foggy” Poole, (Wendell Corey) is a teller at the bank and suddenly faces his old Army sergeant standing in line-- Sergeant, Otto Flanders (John Larch), who nicknamed him “Foggy” because of his thick bifocal glasses. Flanders starts in right away needling him, but “Foggy” replies meekly, “Good to see you again.” At that moment, the robbers go into action. One of them says something that witnesses later say it made it seem like an inside job. When they flee with the money, “Foggy” tries to jump one of them and gets clobbered for his trouble. Otto Flanders is impressed and promises he’ll never call him “Foggy” again.

Police lieutenant Sam Wagner (Joseph Cotton} and his partner Sergeant Chris Gillespie (Michael Pate) suspect it was an inside job, and quickly catch the robbers by placing a bug in each of the bank employees’ homes. “Foggy” the teller turns out to be the inside man and Wagner raids his apartment and arrests him. You might commend him for good police work, except for one thing. During the arrest there was a shootout and Wagner accidentally killed “Foggy”’s wife. During his trial “Foggy,” swears, no matter what, he will kill Wagner’s wife in revenge, just so he’ll know how it feels to lose the only person he ever loved.

Three years go by. Wagner has moved up to a desk job, and “Foggy” has become a model prisoner. Sam and his wife Lila (Rhonda Fleming) are getting along well enough, especially now that she’s expecting their first child. But there is one problem. She has always wished Sam wasn’t a cop, because of the danger involved. It’s been the cause of many arguments... He assures her there isn’t much danger behind a desk, and tells her to quit worrying. Meanwhile the warden of the prison where “Foggy” is serving time decides, due to his good behavior, that he deserves to be moved to the state honor farm, where life is a lot easier for prisoners. “Keep up the good work, Poole,” the warden says,” and you could reduce your sentence.”

“Foggy” could care less about a reduced sentence. No sooner does he get out to the farm than he kills a guard and escapes and heads right back to LA to find Sam and his wife. On the way he stops to visit Otto Flanders, his old sergeant. He needs something to eat and a change of clothes from his dirty honor farm overalls. When Flanders gets home from work he finds “Foggy” in his kitchen eating some dinner Otto’s wife was forced to fix for him. “Fogg”y ends up killing him when he starts remembering how the sergeant used to get everyone in the barracks to torment him.

In the meantime the cops are all banking on “Foggy” showing up at Sam and Lila’s place. They moved Lila to another location and have the neighborhood all staked out. Need I reveal that Lila messes everything up by hopping a bus and going back to her house because she’s suddenly aware how selfish she’s been and wants to be with Sam?

Okay, the screenplay for “The Killer Is Loose” by Harold Medford, based on a story by John and Ward Hopkins clearly needed some work. Lila’s character is thinly sketched as an annoying, selfish woman who decides to do precisely the wrong thing at the wrong time. Several other scenes involving the cops and how they would proceed in a case where they shoot an innocent victim seems to go overboard in showing the cops’ sympathy for “Foggy.” It’s pretty unrealistic even for cops in the 1950s.

Director Budd Boetticher is best known as a director of westerns. “Seven Men From Now” (1956) and the five films he made with Randolph Scott, including “The Tall T,” “Ride Lonesome,” and “Comanche Station,” all collectively known as the “Ranown Cycle” (they were co-produced by Randolph Scott and Harry Joe Brown) are unequivocally among the best westerns ever made and over the years have elevated Boetticher to cult director status. In those films (the best were written by Burt Kennedy) Scott mostly played a mysterious cowboy riding alone in the vast wilderness of the Sierra Nevada and Lone Pine who is discovered in the end to be a on a mission of revenge. In “Seven Men from Now,” and “Ride Lonesome,” he’s searching for the stagecoach robbers who killed his wife. In ‘Comanche Station’ (my favorite) he’s searching for the Comanches who kidnapped his wife. It’s a recurring theme in all these films--- a man obsessed with finding justice for the woman he loved and lost. As Ben Brigade, Scott’s character in “Ride Lonesome,” says in another context: “A man can do that.”

I wonder if it was just a coincidence that Boetticher began making these film in 1956, the same year he directed “The Killer Is Loose.” In “Killer” that obsession to avenge the loss of a loved one turns a man into a psychotic killer. Wendell Corey’s “Foggy” is a far cry from Randolph Scott in “Seven Men from Now,” yet the same obsession motivates both men. It’s a fine line between a tragic hero and a psycho killer.

The cast of “The Killer Is Loose,” as noted, is made up of a lot of familiar faces from 1950s TV and film, including Michael Pate, Alan Hale, Jr., John Beradino, and John Larch. Lucien Ballard’s black and white cinematography of Boetticher’s on-location shooting in and around the LA suburbs gives the movie a weird overall touch of realism. The disc includes an audio commentary by film historian Gary Gerani, and the theatrical trailer. “The Killer Is Loose” is not a great movie, but an interesting one and perhaps reveals the inspiration for Boetticher’s most well-known body of work.

Click here to order from Amazon

(John M. Whalen is the author of "This Ray Gun for Hire...and Other Tales". Click here to order from Amazon.)

Issue #61 of Cinema Retro- the first issue of Season 21- is now shipping worldwide.  Thanks to everyone who has supported Cinema Retro by subscribing or renewing. If you have not done so yet, you can order the new season below and receive issues #'s 61, 62 and 63 throughout 2025.

Please note: we still have customers who want to subscribe to Season 19. However, we are unable to offer Season 19 any longer because issue #55 is now sold out worldwide and only a small number of issue #56 are available through our U.K office, as it has sold out in the U.S. Season 20 is still available and you can order it through this link.

“IF YOU CAN’T SAY IT, JUST SEE IT”

By Raymond Benson

When Ken Russell’s film, Whore, was released in 1991, many contemporary reviews stated that it was the flip side of the coin of the Julia Roberts/Richard Gere vehicle, Pretty Woman (1990). Where Pretty Woman depicted the life of a prostitute as a rom-com in which everything turns out rosy, Whore is more of a docu-drama that illustrates the horrors and ugliness of “the life.”

Starring the extremely talented Theresa Russell (no relation to the director), the film may have held good intentions in that the filmmaker wanted to show us “what it’s really like” to be a woman of the night. What we get, however, is an unsavory, sordid tale of a not-so-bright woman who is abused and exploited. Rosy it is not. In fact, it might be one of the more unpleasant cinematic experiences you’ll have.

Liz (Russell) is a street walker who has had a hard life. Hailing from a small town, she marries an abusive alcoholic, has a child, and eventually realizes she has to walk away. The son goes into foster care. Almost by accident, Liz comes to understand that men will pay her for sex. Blake (Benjamin Mouton), a well-dressed “businessman,” becomes her pimp and transports her to Los Angeles. Blake, however, is also abusive and controlling. Liz attempts to get away from him several times, only to end up back under his “protection” again. The story follows Liz on some of her encounters with creepy johns, violence, drugs, street people, and the law. All the while, Liz speaks to us, the audience, breaking the fourth wall, justifying and excusing her life choices.

The movie doesn’t work. First of all, if we can’t at least empathize with the protagonist in some way, there’s nothing for an audience to hang on to. Theresa Russell has delivered some excellent performances in her career, but Whore is not one of them. Her lower class Liz, complete with a country twang, is practically a parody. And, as Liz isn’t really one of those stereotypical and unrealistic “hookers with hearts of gold” that Hollywood has thrust upon us over the decades, the character, no matter how much sassiness Russell gives her, is difficult to like.

Secondly, there isn’t much of a story here. Yes, it’s a documentary-like look at the life of a street walker, but there is never much of a character arc in terms of the journey. The movie is basically “it is what it is” and is finally unsatisfying.

Finally, Ken “over-the-top” Russell shoots the scenes of sex and violence with visceral intensity. This is truly nasty stuff. That said, there is no question that the film has its admirers and is indeed yet another cult movie title in Russell’s oeuvre.

The film was based on a stage play, Bondage, by David Hines, and the screenplay was by (Ken) Russell and Deborah Dalton. Liz’s monologues to the camera are likely the work of Dalton.

More interesting is the film’s home video release history. The theatrical release received an NC-17 rating in the U.S. and was banned in some countries, including Ireland. The VHS home video release appeared in no less than four versions: the NC-17 edition, an R-rated version with edits, an unrated version with more graphic content unseen in the NC-17 version, and a different R-rated edition for display in family-friendly video stores like Blockbuster, conveniently and hilariously re-titled as If You Can’t Say It, Just See It!

The Kino Cult Blu-ray sports the theatrical NC-17 version in a digital restoration that looks quite good. There is an interesting audio commentary (better than the film) by novelist and critic Tim Lucas. Other supplements include an interview with co-writer Dalton, a video comparison of the alternate versions by Tim Lucas, and the theatrical trailer.

Not for kids, obviously. Not for many adults, either. But fans of Ken Russell, Theresa Russell, and cult movies in general may get something out of it.

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(Hackman with director William Friedkin on the set of "The French Connection". Photo: Cinema Retro Archive.)

Two-time Oscar winning actor Gene Hackman and his wife, pianist Betsy Arakawa have been found dead in their Santa Fe, New Mexico home. Hackman was 95 years-old and his wife was 64. The couple's pet dog was also found deceased. The deaths were discovered by sheriff's deputies who had been dispatched to the home to make a welfare check, according to various sources. The Sheriff's Department stated that foul play is not suspected and that this is an on-going investigation. Hackman won the Best Actor Oscar for director William Friekdin's 1971 crime classic "The French Connection". He later was awarded the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor for director Clint Eastwood's 1992 western "Unforgiven". For more, click here.  This story will be updated as more information is available. (Lee Pfeiffer)

By Lee Pfeiffer

Screenpix, the service available through Amazon Prime, is currently streaming  the largely forgotten 1969 action/adventure flick "The Devil's 8". The film typifies the kind of movie that simply doesn't exist any more: a low-budget production designed for fast playoff and modest profits. Back in the day, studios depended on movies such as these to be important to their bottom line. It's in stark contrast to today's film industry where seemingly every release is intended to be a blockbuster with production costs so high that some flicks have to gross close to a billion dollars to be considered financially successful. "The Devil's 8" is pretty much what you might expect simply by examining the sleeve. Typical of these types of movies, it presents a cast of reputable character actors who get meatier roles than they usually did in more prestigious productions. The script is yet another in a seemingly endless number of action films that was shamelessly inspired by the success of "The Dirty Dozen". Christopher George is Faulkner, who we are introduced to as a criminal in a work group of convicts doing time in a prison in the deep South. Along with his fellow prisoners, he's performing backbreaking work under the guard of cruel, armed overseers. Faulkner initiates a riot and he and seven other convicts manage to escape. They are soon "rescued" by government officials and learn that Faulkner is actually an FBI agent and the entire scenario was pre-planned. Turns out that the men are being recruited to work under Faulkner as part of an elaborate plot to bring down a local crime king named Burl, who is running a major illegal moonshine operation in the area. The FBI knows that he is being protected by high government and police officials who are paid off with a share of the loot. Faulkner offers them a deal: if they agree to undergo extensive training and help him infiltrate Burl's operation, he'll recommend that they be pardoned and freed. Sound familiar? It's but one of the scenarios blatantly copied from "The Dirty Dozen". The convicts all agree and end up being trained to drive specially-equipped cars that have been reinforced to withstand all sorts of calamities. They must also become proficient in the use of machine guns and demolition work. As you might imagine in a film with a 98-minute running time, this is accomplished fairly quickly. Adding to the "Dirty Dozen" similarities, the men initially fight among each other until Faulkner employs a successful strategy whereby they bond together in their common hatred of him.

The group then pretends to be rival moonshiners who move in on Burl's territory, knowing he'll try to take them out.When their resiliency wins out over Burl's men, Faulkner convinces Burl to allow them to become partners in his operation in the hope of being shown where his illegal stills are located. Burl agrees, but no one is naive to believe the alliance will last. Faulkner and his men know that ultimately, Burl will have them killed. As played by Ralph Meeker, Burl is a stereotypical, cigar-chomping Southern good ol' boy with plenty of charisma to cover up the fact that he routinely uses murder to protect his operation. By the time the double-crosses kick in, Faulkner and his gang are ready to engage Burl and his private army in an all-out battle to the death. Faulkner's group is the usual blend of eccentrics we see in prison films. Each has his own distinct personality from the lone Black convict (Robert DoQui in the Jim Brown "Dirty Dozen" role) to Joe Turkel (reunited with Meeker after having both appeared in Stanley Kubrick's classic "Paths of Glory") as an impulsive team member whose actions threaten to undo the mission (think John Cassavetes in "The Dirty Dozen"). Other members of the group are played by a familiar assortment of character actors including one-time teen idol Fabian, Tom Nardini of "Cat Ballou" and Larry Bishop, who specialized in portraying hippies. Christopher George dominates the film as the tough-as-nails Faulkner. It is puzzling why he never became a bigger star, given his rugged good looks and strong on-screen personality.  Despite starring in the modestly successful WWII TV series "The Rat Patrol", he rarely had a lead role in feature films. His biggest impressions were as the quirky villains in two John Wayne film, ""El Dorado" (1967) and "Chisum" (1970), although he did star in the low-budget cult favorite "Grizzly". Sadly, he passed away in 1983 at only 52 years-old. The rest of the cast performs well and each member provides some amusing moments. Leslie Parrish is inserted in the movie to provide some sex appeal as Burl's reluctant mistress. 

"The Devil's 8" was directed and produced by "B" movie king Burt Topper. Much of the action is rather clunky in its staging and the limited budget results in some of the worst and most laughable rear screen projection effects in the history of the medium. But Topper was unpretentious in his goals and execution of his films. He just wanted to make fun movies for undemanding audiences.  The score by Michael Lloyd and Jerry Styner, proteges of the wiz kid Mike Curb, provide a bouncy country score that is appropriate for the story but which rapidly grows weary due to its sheer monotony- and wait until you hear wacky theme song and lyrics by the Sidewalk Sounds that play over the end credits. "The Devil's 8" seems like one of those films that was specifically created to fill the bottom of a double-feature bill, but in fact, it was the main feature in most of its bookings, although in the UK, it was the second feature to "3 in the Attic". Interestingly, the movie proved to be a fertile training ground for screenwriters Willard Huyck and John Milius, who co-authored the script with James Gordon White. Within a few years, Huyck would pen the screenplay for George Lucas's masterwork "American Graffiti", while Milius would go on to write the screenplays for "Dirty Harry" and "Apocalypse Now" and find considerable success as a director. Thus, before we turn our noses up at lowbrow movies such as this, we should pause to remember how many considerable talents emerged from such productions. 

Headpress

Published March 2025

286 pages

Paperback

ISBN: 978-1-915316-31-8

RRP: £19.99

Review by Adrian Smith

As the joke goes, nostalgia is not what it used to be, and this is something which Ghost of an Idea explores at great length. Nostalgia can be emotional, imaginative and bittersweet as we mull over the regret of what we can never have again. Nostalgia can be a ‘third space’ between external and internal realities, not entirely one or the other. Nostalgia is not specifically about memories, but more about a resistance to the present and a sadness about not being able to go back: that time is slipping away. As a sufferer of ‘retromania’ myself – a desire to renew the old world through collecting new things that evoke the past (like stockpiling Blu-rays and buying vinyl) – I can relate to the ideas being explored in this fascinating new book from Headpress, as I’m sure can many other readers of Cinema Retro. In turn, this connects with the concept of hauntology, a lens for exploring the changes of the late twentieth century. Rather than simply trying to prove the existence of ghosts, hauntology looks at how ghosts and hauntings can be used as analytical tools for examining societies and cultures. The past is a ghost, and it is never really the past – it continues to haunt us today.

In Ghost of an Idea, William Burns, a self-professed member of ‘the Haunted Generation,’ explores these concepts of nostalgia and hauntology through a close analysis of folk horror films and writing, looking at classics like Blood on Satan’s Claw (1971), Witchfinder General (1968) and The Wicker Man (1973), the British ‘Unholy Trinity,’ along with writers such as Algernon Blackwood and Arthur Machen, and world cinema examples like the Japanese masterpiece Kwaidan (1964) and the recent Brazilian witchcraft chiller The Black Forest (2018). It also looks at the nostalgia for old technology as seen in found footage horror films, and the nostalgia for past cinema itself through legacy sequels such as Blade Runner 2049 (2017), and one of my favourite recent shows, Ash vs Evil Dead (2015-2018), which managed to recreate the Three Stooges-meets-The Exorcist (1973) anarchy of the original trilogy and fulfil the expectations of the fans.

Burns also listens to a lot of hauntological music, which is experiencing something of a popularity wave as twenty-first century bands employ the technology of the 1960s and 1970s to evoke and imagine the atmospheric, existential sadness of the lost worlds of those decades. The book includes interviews with several artists who discuss their work, its often-melancholic futurism and the connections to psychogeography. Included here are interviews with, amongst others, Hawksmoor, epic45 and The Rowan Amber Mill. Their music would provide a suitable soundtrack for reading this book and engaging in one’s own Proustian reminiscences of a partially remembered past. Burns also explores the music of Goblin, Nick Cave and Fabio Frizzi, who are all still performing, living off the nostalgia their fans have for their previous work.

Ghost of an Idea: Hauntology, Folk Horror and the Spectre of Nostalgia is a fascinating read, and something which will undoubtedly cause the reader to pause and reflect on their own relationship with the past, and their own ghosts.

You can order Ghost of an Idea directly from the publisher: https://headpress.com/product/ghost-of-an-idea/

By Hank Reineke

In November of 1980, Screen International announced The Beast Within as one of fourteen features in the United Artists production pipeline. The trade mag estimated UA was willing to invest some four to five million dollars on Beast, a bit of a gamble for the studio. UA’s senior VP of worldwide production conceded to Variety that the studio’s low budget films of the previous year had performed below expectation. Variety mused the era of the “small picture” was not only in “big trouble… but officially kaput at United Artists.” The VP explained the fourteen pics greenlit for 1981, were, “somewhat bigger pictures that are designed to capture a bigger share of the audience.”

It was Mony Productions and producer Gabriel Katzka that brought The Beast Within to the attention of United Artists. Katzka was intrigued by a book proposal written by the novelist Edward Levy. The Beast Within would be Levy’s second novel upon completion. Levy’s first novel, Came a Spider, had been published by Maryland’s Arbor House in late autumn of 1978. On some level the basic plotline of Levy’s debut novel appeared comic book in construction: some critics thought it a retooled mishmash that recycled the storylines of such 1950s sci-fi classics as Tarantula and Them! Others thought the book an intriguing effort. One critic would describe Came a Spider, as “A horror story in the class of Daphne Du Maurier’s The Birds.”

Whatever its merits, Levy’s novel brought him to the attention of Hollywood. Mony Productions proactively snatched up film rights to The Beast Within, the author’s as yet unwritten second novel. Novice screenwriter Tom Holland was challenged to bring Levy’s still-unpublished novel to the screen. Holland had once worked on television as an actor, but his interest turned to script-writing. Though he had only one television story-writing credit to his name, Holland had been shopping an original script written on spec, one coming to the attention of producer Katzka.

Katzka engaged to Holland to bring The Beast Within to the big screen, a difficult challenge. The producer was really asking Holland to write an almost complete original story as Katzka had only optioned a book proposal, not a full-fledged, fleshed-out work. Levy’s second novel had yet even been written, and his The Beast Within would not actually see publication until the spring of 1981… a full month following the wrapping of principal photography on Katzka’s film.

Regardless, the producer was excited about the general premise of Levy’s forthcoming work, assigning Holland to speculatively “write off” an original story based on a few items found in the book proposal. The producer was primarily interested in delivering a grisly human-to-monster transformation climax that would bring young horror film addicts to the cinemas. So, with little of Levy’s material available to work from, Holland composed a script he described as “Freudian” and “psycho-sexual” in its scope.

The monster as imagined in the script is essentially a man-sized, flesh-eating cicada. Holland was intrigued by the real life-cycle science of the seventeen-year periodical cicada. Upon hatching from its egg, a seventeen-year cicada nymph burrows into the soil and lays dormant for the first seventeen years of life. When it finally awakens it has only a few weeks of above-ground existence, spending its days mating, fertilizing, and laying eggs in a cycling process.

Holland’s script centers the periodical cicada as a “visual metaphor” of a male teenager’s rite of passage from child to post-pubescent – an hormone-enraged - sexual and emotional predator. Of course, this being a blood-saturated horror film of the early 1980s, as screenwriter, Holland also needed to create an exploitable script mixing in such disparate elements of young lust, cannibalism, spiritual possession, mysterious trapdoors and grave robbery. As his script differs wildly from Levy’s late-published novel, Holland is credited as contributing the “screen story” as well as the screenplay. The dust flap of Levy’s post-dated novel suggests the book’s author delivered an equally morbid if somewhat contrasting tale: "In this new novel comes a child, damned by satanic mischance, from the soul of the Ozark Plateau---a modern-day Jekyll and Hyde in the clothes of a werewolf".

In January of 1981 United Artists announced that Philippe Mora was to direct The Beast Within. Harvey Bernhard and Gabriel Katzka would act as supervising producers, Jack B. Bernstein to serve as executive producer. Mora was an interesting choice as his film background was mostly in documentary (Swastika (1973) and Brother, Can You Spare a Dime (1975) as well as short films. The one and only “Hollywood” film to his credit was an Australian nineteenth century outlaw-western Mad Dog Morgan (1976) featuring Dennis Hopper. Within a few weeks’ time, it was reported that actors Ronny Cox (Deliverance) was to “topline” The Beast Within alongside Bibi Besch (Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan), along with Kitty Ruth Moffat, Paul Clemens and Ron Soble.

Cameras were to begin rolling on 9 February 1981. Though Holland’s original script centered the action in areas surrounding Atlanta, Georgia, principal photography took place in Mississippi’s rural communities of Raymond, Bolton and Whitfield. Due to the cooperation of the Mississippi Film Bureau, The Beast Within was shot entirely on location in the Magnolia state, without benefit of a proper Hollywood sound stage. The city of Jackson, some twenty miles northeast of Raymond, would serve as the production’s home base as well as a shooting location. Casting director Ramsey King hired a number of local acting talent to fill vacant roles, confident the local players would “have little trouble shifting from the little theatre stage lights to the klieg lights.”

As production commenced in the grim month of February, cast and crew were immediately confronted by unpleasant weather: thunderstorms and an encroaching polar air mass that brought snow and freezing temperatures. This unwelcome situation was cinematically beneficial. The cold, the dampness, the misting fog and the dreary rural settings brought a layer of atmosphere to the production. Actor Clemens recalled the “isolated” town of Raymond as positively “Lovecraftian” in its remote-area oddness.

The setting of the film’s opening sequence is 1964. On a fog-shrouded night in the backwater town of Nioba, Mississippi (population 1267), the car of newlyweds Eli and Caroline MacCleary (Cox, Besch) is stranded in a mud bank. When Eli goes off to seek assistance, Caroline is sexually assaulted by a creature lurking about in the nearby woods. The film then moves ahead seventeen years in time. Seventeen-year-old Michael (Clemens), the son of Eli and Caroline, is ailing, his pituitary glands having “gone crazy.” Dr. Schoonmaker (R.G. Armstrong) is desperate to properly diagnose the boy’s medical issues, but is confused when a strain of Michael’s DNA does not appear to match either of his parents.

Michael isn’t, of course, Eli’s biological son - Caroline’s rapist is. In the hope of finding genetic-based medical records that might help cure their dying son, the desperate MacCleary’s return to Nioba to seek out Michael’s biological father. The problem is that few in Nioba are particularly welcoming to the couple. It soon becomes apparent to them that the town people are harboring a secret: neither the local judge, its newspaper editor nor mortician are cooperative. To compound problems, Michael has escaped from his hospital bed to begin his own scramble through Nioba.

Michael is obviously distraught, not well in mind nor body. The teen suffers mood swings and deadly violent when angered. On the other hand, he’s an otherwise pleasant-looking seventeen-year-old boy with raging hormones. Michael becomes infatuated with a sweet local girl, Amanda Platt (Moffat). Unfortunately, Amanda’s father, Horace (J.D. Johnston), is a quick-triggered, suspicious character, one physically and emotionally abusive to the girl. His daughter’s new-found relationship with Michael is unwelcomed. The new relationship fatefully short circuits when a romantic tryst in Black Pine Bog is grimly interrupted. Michael and Amanda discover they’re making out atop a secreted burying ground holding thirty-six or so mutilated corpses.

The already grim atmosphere of Nioba soon takes a further turn for the worse. Various members of the community are being terrorized and/or eviscerated by a strange creature that may – or may not – be a giant biped insect. The monster is, in fact, the cicada-man, a creature seeking vengeance on anyone connected to a long-standing family of the town. To wrap up this synopsis, let’s just say for all involved, the cicada monster’s bite is far worse than its rattle.

The timing of the blood-splattered The Beast Within was prescient. In August of 1981 a Variety headline ballyhooed, “Gore Perpetual Fave of Young Film Fans,” a pic’s make-up artist now deemed the true star of the modern horror film. The article recognized the imaginative work of such artists as Dick Smith, Tom Savini, Rob Bottin and Rick Baker. Though not all of the special effects team of Beast were acknowledged in the article, the writer praised Tom Burman as an “up-and-coming make-up specialist” recently “moved from the monsters of Prophecy and gore of Invasion of the Body Snatchers to more ambitious assignments on the in-progress The Beast Within and Cat People.” With CGI not yet in use and with a limited budget, the special-effects team of Beast managed to create an impressive transformation sequence with “primitive” use of air bladders, make-up, puppetry, foam rubber applications and mechanics.

Having served as producer on all three pictures of UA’s The Omen series and now on The Beast Within, Harvey Bernhard was looking to get out of the chiller trade. The latest entry in the series Omen III: The Final Conflict was making money, but was also taking a drubbing in the U.S. press. “I don’t think the critics understood the picture,” Bernhard sighed to Screen International. “Most of them said ‘Where’s the blood?” Bernhard allowed they could have shot a more repulsively graphic film for The Final Conflict but the team opted for a “higher plane” production. This decision cost the producers a loss at the box-office, as new audiences seemed disinterested in “higher plane” horror pics.

Accepting the times had changed, Bernhard promised the forthcoming gore fest of The Beast Within would deliver the morbid goods as a more prurient, special-effects laden chiller. “The Beast Within is going to be one of the most intense horror films,” Bernhard promised, the film’s ninety-three minutes to be bathed in blood-dripping excess. The producer also suggested that Beast would serve as his “horror film” swansong. It was time to move on from such horror fare.

In January of ’82 the reports came in that Les Baxter had completed his scoring of The Beast Within, with the picture scheduled to hit cinemas in February. Sadly, The Beast Within too was not a box-office success following release. Earliest box office reports indicated that the United Artists releases of Cannery Row and The Beast Within both had suffered “lukewarm debuts.” Variety thought the film “goofy” and was critical of the script, but acknowledged the film as “late but lively.” The review in Box Office was completely dismissive, arguing “Once again blood and gore and a truly stupid script combine to make a film with no appeal to anyone but that small profitable group who enjoy seeing decapitated heads and severed limbs.”

Such criticisms were hurtful to screenwriter Holland. On a doc included on this new set from Kino Cult, Holland agreed the script’s internal logic had been compromised. This, he mused was the result of Mora having chosen to eliminate several important exposition scenes. Other scenes had been awkwardly blended or compressed to help move the story line along – too often at the expense of logic. Holland also sighed the transformation scenes were not as he had imagined them to be, the special effects too “rudimentary” to bring his “vision” to the screen. Holland also believed the failure of Beast to catch fire at the box-office briefly sidelined his screenwriting career – his phone stopped ringing. If this was the case, his career quickly recovered. Holland would go on to write the scripts for such successful ‘80s horrors as Psycho II, Fright Night and Child’s Play.

The Beast Within might have been relegated to film oblivion had it not been for an unforeseen savior – the home video rental boom. A new generation of young – and gore and blood-thirsty horror film fans – discovered Beast on the shelves of their neighborhood rental stores. The film would ultimately become a much beloved VHS cult-film classic to such fans. In the early 1990s, the film was released on VHS in a clamshell box via both MGM/UA and Warner Home Video (1985) as well as a cardboard sleeve issue via MGM/UA (1993). The film would debut on DVD as both a standalone release in 2001 as part of MGM’s Midnite Movies series, as well as a 2007 pairing alongside The Bat People (1974).

This Kino Cult Blu-ray release of The Beast Within supersedes all previous versions, presented in an aspect ratio of 2.35:1 and DTS-audio, with removable English subtitles. There’s a number of Special Features included. One is director Calum Waddel’s forty-six minute featurette I was a Teenage Cicada: The Making of The Beast Within. The featurette include interviews with many of the actors (Clemens, Moffat, and Johnston et. al.), writer Holland and special effects tech Gary J. Elmendorf, all sharing vivid memories of the production and fellow players. The film’s casting agent is praised for bringing in such talent as Ronny Cox and Bibi Besch to act alongside the film’s lesser known troupe of players. Both are recalled for their professional, nurturing nature: well-respected by the cast and crew and wonderful to work with.

If one despairs that director Mora’s thoughts are not present in the featurette, one need only to listen to the first of three separate audio commentaries included. Mora shares his thoughts with Waddell on one such track. The director offers Beast as cinema’s first “Were-Cicada” movie, that “nightmare” sequences allow filmmaker’s total freedom due as a “no rules” policy allow experimentation and that tracking shots are well-suited for a Panavision-lensed film. The second commentary comes courtesy of Clemens, the cicada man himself, who shares detailed memories of his time on location. The third commentary comes courtesy of screenwriter Holland. Many of the points made by Clemens and Holland in the featurette doc are revisited here again, but sometimes at greater length.

A second thirteen- minute featurette, Storyboarding the Beast, is of particular interest. Director Mora pages through the detailed storyboard he created prior to filming. As Beast was among Mora’s earliest features, the boards were created to convince producers he actually knew what he was doing. Though he had never utilized storyboards before, Mora confessed he very much enjoyed doing them; they not only served as reference material but as comic art. Of particular interest is how the boards contrasted with the imagery seen on film. There were any number of instances where images – to Mora’s own uncertain remembrance - had either been cut from the film or not staged at all. This supports Holland’s contention that his script had undergone revisions which weakened the logic of his scenario. The set’s supplements generously conclude with additions of the film’s original theatrical trailer, a television spot and two radio spots.

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(Hank Reineke is the author of "Rising Son: The Life and Music of Arlo Guthrie. Click here to order from Amazon.) 

By Lee Pfeiffer

Yul Brynner had such a dynamic and commanding screen presence that he remained a viable leading man long after his boxoffice clout had diminished considerably. Brynner rose to fame and fortune in the mid-1950s with his Oscar-winning performance in "The King and I" as well as his portrayal of the villainous Ramses in Cecil B. DeMille's blockbuster "The Ten Commandments".  Many of his high profile films continued to perform well and he proved he could carry stories of a diverse nature including the classic 1960 film "The Magnificent Seven" despite conventional wisdom that he would be a bizarre choice for a leading man in a western. In fact, Brynner managed to avoid being upstaged on screen despite the presence of such up-and-coming major stars as Steve McQueen, Charles Bronson, Robert Vaughn and James Coburn. After that film, Brynner would not enjoy a notable hit until his appearance as a seemingly indestructible and deadly robot in Michael Crichton's 1973 sci-fi film "Westworld". Perhaps a major reason for the film's success is that Brynner was basically recreating the look of his character Chris in "The Magnificent Seven". Brynner worked consistently throughout his career and never lost his status as a leading man. Occasionally, he would make a good film "("Taras Bulba", "Morituri") but more often than not this was not the case. By the late 1970s, Brynner eschewed motion pictures to launch a worldwide touring stage production of "The King and I" with Constance Towers as his leading lady. The show was an international smash and reaffirmed his status as an iconic leading man, as well as filled his coffers with considerable sums. Brynner was diagnosed with terminal cancer during the run of the play, but ever the professional, continued to perform after taking a leave of absence, culminating in the show's triumphant closing run on Broadway. Brynner died in 1985 at age 65.

Yul Brynner's final film was a rather inglorious one, a 1976 Italian crime flick, "Con la rabbia agli occhi", released in 1978 in the U.S. under the unimaginative title "Death Rage". Why? Simply because a few years earlier, director Michael Winner's "Death Wish" proved to be a major international hit, thus studios seemed to insert "Death" in every other film title. In fact, the title seems to be forecasting those films with bland, interchangeable names made by the likes of Jean-Claude Van Damme and Steven Seagal. A UK title (one among several used) was even worse: "Anger in His Eyes". The film was directed by Antonio Margheriti under the name Anthony M. Dawson. The pseudonym caused some fans to believe the film was directed by British actor Anthony Dawson, who famously played the villain Professor Dent in "Dr. No". If all this is confusing, wait until you get to the movie itself. Brynner plays retired hit man Peter Marciani. When we first see him, he's idly fishing on a bank on New York's East River. Given the pollution of the river back in the day, devouring his catch would probably be more dangerous than any assassination mission he ever undertook. A member of the Italian mob approaches him and informs him that he has an opportunity to take revenge on those who killed his brother, a fellow mobster. It seems the same mob boss who killed his brother has also assassinated a lieutenant in their mob. Marciani is offered the job to avenge the killing and, in doing so, taking revenge on the same man responsible for killing his brother. Suffice it to say that Marciani is suitably inspired to fly to Italy where he visits the horse race track where the mobster was killed. Here he meets Angelo (Massimo Ranieri), a young wanna-be mobster who idolizes Manciani based on his legendary reputation in mob circles. Marciani takes the young man under his wing as a henchman. The two escape death and deal out murderous fates to their would-be killers in the quest of killing their ultimate target, Genarre Gallo (Giancarlo Sbragia.) Oh, and along the way, Marciani has a fling with Anny (Barbara Bouchet), a local stripper who emulates Marlene Dietrich on stage, albeit sans any encumbering articles of clothing. Martin Balsam is seen in a rare action role as a Naples police chief who is desperately trying to stop Marciani's trail of murder as he works his way to Gallo.

"Death Rage" is like many other entries in the Italian crime genre of the era in that it is rather crudely made and often looks like it was edited with a meat cleaver. The film also suffers from bad English language dubbing, though Brynner and Balsam retain their real voices. Despite pointing out these criticisms, I actually liked "Death Rage" despite the fact that it borrows heavily from "Death Wish" as well as another Michael Winner crime film of the era, "The Mechanic". Brynner may be in a second-rate thriller but he still gives a first-rate performance as an emotionless killer whose assassination skills are almost supernatural in their effectiveness. Barbara Bouchet is cast mostly as eye candy and to provide a bedroom romp with Brynner. and Massimo Ranieri, who was (and is) a very popular singer in Italy, acquits himself well as Brynner's eager-to-learn student. The movie has some very inventive action sequences including a dazzling car chase through the streets of Naples that clearly scared the hell out of bystanders caught on film. 

One would have hoped that Yul Brynner's final movie would have been more prestigious. However, taken on its own, "Death Rage" is actually quite enjoyable.

The film is presently streaming on Amazon Prime.

“FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE”

By Raymond Benson

The voice of the Master of Suspense, Alfred Hitchcock, informs us at the beginning of Mark Cousins’ fascinating documentary, My Name is Alfred Hitchcock, that he will tell us one lie in the picture—but that the rest of it is true, more or less. The lie, of course, is that Hitchcock himself is speaking to us from beyond the grave and is following a script that he wrote. Instead, the voice, which indeed uncannily sounds like Hitch’s, belongs to actor/comedian Alistair McGowan, reading from a script written by Cousins. The opening credits cheekily informs us that the film was written and narrated by Hitchcock. The closing credits corrects this falsehood.

Cousins is well known in the cinematic world as an award winning writer and filmmaker, often responsible for documentaries about film itself. His excellent series, The Story of Film, is a landmark study of cinema history and its evolution in terms of innovation. Here, Cousins acknowledges that Hitchcock’s works have been analyzed to death, but with his inimitable and unique eye, the filmmaker forces us to look at the master’s movies in a new way. New angles. Different takes.

“In his own words” (not really), Hitchcock narrates the journey as he points out six different themes that he claims to be important in his work.

Escape is fairly obvious, as characters are often running away from something—danger and romance, for instance. The crop dusting sequence in North by Northwest immediately comes to mind here, but the theme could be applied to a character attempting to escape an unhappy existence—Marnie, for example, in the film of that title, wants to flee her past.

Desire is all over the place in Hitchcock’s movies. Attraction to someone, the need for sexual contact—actually the opposite of “escape” in that characters are running to what they desire.

Loneliness, as in how characters’ motivations are determined by despair. Joan Fontaine in Rebecca or James Stewart in Vertigo.

Time is played with throughout his oeuvre. A race against time. Time stopping (Ray Milland in Dial M for Murder has a watch that fails, forcing him to make his alibi call from a pay phone).

Fulfilment moves away from Hitchcock’s films and into his personal life with wife Alma and daughter Patricia. How he moved from England to Hollywood in pursuit of career fulfilment, for example.

Height examines how the director often used spatial birds’-eye views on his characters and the world. He loved his crane shots (Notorious), his characters falling from above (Norman Lloyd in Saboteur), and literal omniscient views in The Birds.

All of this material is presented along with beautifully remastered film clips to illustrate the talking points. As such, the documentary is full of insight, moments that will make you think, “Gee, I never thought of that,” and intriguing examinations of these movies that film buffs know well and love.

The problem is that the movie is painfully slow and one-note in dynamics. The real Alfred Hitchcock spoke very slowly. Mimicking him quite faithfully, McGowan’s speech and pace is just as meticulous. As a result, the approximately two-hour film itself moves ponderously. At the halfway mark, I thought I’d been watching for much longer.

So… it’s a bit of a mixed bag. The documentary is audacious in its conception of having “Hitch” speak to us from beyond the grave, but that sort of works. It’s just that this construct informs the entire production with its detrimental pacing.

Cohen Media Group’s new Blu-ray release is certainly gorgeous to look at. It comes with a few Supplements: An alternate trailer voiced by Mark Cousins; McGowan’s voice/narration test; a 30-minute Q&A over Zoom with Cousins and critic/journalist Chuck Rose; a graphics animation test (for several animations used in the movie); the original theatrical trailer; and a piece with Cousins introducing the films Notorious, Saboteur, and Rope.

If you’re a devoted fan of Alfred Hitchcock, you’ll assuredly enjoy the film. Others might become bored with it rather quickly. Perhaps it would have worked better in four 30-minute segments of a limited series. Nevertheless, the content—over presentation—is excellent.

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By Lee Pfeiffer

The entertainment site Deadline is reporting that it took quite an incentive for Amazon to convince James Bond producers Barbara Broccoli and Michael G. Wilson to turn control of the James Bond film franchise over to them- namely $1 billion. Until now, the Bond producers and Amazon have had a strained relationship in terms of how to proceed with future Bond movies. According to Deadline, Amazon may want to develop ancillary aspects of the franchise that could be exploited, such as projects based on Bond villains. Broccoli and Wilson were not in sync with Amazon's plans and industry scuttlebutt indicated the relationship between Amazon and Eon Productions was tense. Consequently, there has been no movement on bringing a new Bond film to the big screen since the 2021 release of "No Time to Die", which marked Daniel Craig's final appearance in the role and the death of agent 007. Details are hazy regarding the $1 billion deal in terms of how the payment is structured and whether it includes stock options. For more, click here.

By Lee Pfeiffer

In a stunning announcement, James Bond producers Barbara Broccoli and Michael G. Wilson say that they have made an agreement with Amazon, which co-owns the rights to the legendary film franchise, to have Amazon assume creative control of future Bond films. Broccoli and Wilson will retain co-ownership of the franchise but will retire from being involved in the production of new 007 films. Bond fans have anxiously awaited news of a new Bond movie but none has been forthcoming. The most recent film in the franchise, "No Time to Die"" was released in 2021, after having delayed its premiere in 2020 due to the onset of the Covid virus. That film marked the end of Daniel Craig's successful reign as the sixth actor to portray 007. The film grossed almost $800 million despite the fact that many of the world's theaters were still closed when the movie was released. The film also featured the stunning demise of James Bond, who died during the course of his latest mission. Since then, Amazon acquired co-ownership of the franchise and progress toward another film has remained stagnant. Industry reports indicated that there may have been tensions between the producers and Amazon regarding the future of the franchise. However, statements made by Amazon and Eon Productions, which is owned by Broccoli and Wilson, were politely worded and mutually supportive with Broccoli and Wilson stating they want to concentrate on their own individual non-Bond projects.

The bombshell announcement would seem to indicate that Amazon will take steps to develop the next film, which would have to be a reintroduction of the character, given Bond's demise in the last movie. In recent years, Bond fans have expressed reservations about a scenario in which Amazon takes creative control of the series, making an analogy to Disney's acquisition of the "Star Wars" franchise which many fans thought led to an over-saturation of projects relating to the series. Eon has always maintained that Bond would remain primarily a big screen franchise but since the release of "No Time to Die" the dynamics of the movie business have changed considerably with theatrical releases often done in a cursory manner with the bulk of revenues derived from streaming services. One thing is indisputable: once Broccoli and Wilson took over the franchise after the retirement of Cubby Broccoli, who produced the original series with Harry Saltzman, they have kept the series socially relevant and a major moneymaker beginning with "GoldenEye" in 1995. What lies ahead for 007 is now up to executives at Amazon.

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By  Lee Pfeiffer

Throughout motion picture history, there have always been "disaster" movies. From Clark Gable and Spencer Tracy facing the great earthquake in "San Francisco" to John Wayne trying to rescue an airliner in distress in "The High and the Mighty". However, the disaster movie didn't emerge as a genre until the 1970s. Most people credit "The Poseidon Adventure" (1972) with being the first major entry among these kinds of films during that era, but arguably the genre began two years earlier with "Airport". That blockbuster flick set the standard for all of the disaster movies to follow:

• An all-star cast ranging from top boxoffice attractions to respected veteran stars and popular character actors
• Big production values
• State-of-the-art special effects
• Majestic musical score (and, if possible, a Top 40 hit shoe-horned into the proceedings) 
• A well-regarded director at the helm to preside over the mayhem

For the most part the formula worked fairly well. "Poseidon" was a major boxoffice smash and that film begat the short-lived genre's best year, 1974, which saw the virtual back-to-back release of "Gold", "Earthquake" and "The Towering Inferno", the latter being the "Citizen Kane" of disaster movies. However, the genre was to burn brightly but briefly. In the wake of "Inferno", there was nowhere else to go. The 1977 film "Black Sunday" was excellent, but despite a blimp crashing into the Superbowl stadium, it is not a "disaster movie" in the traditional sense. Most of those films that were, flopped badly. Producer Irwin Allen, who struck pay dirt as the producer of "Poseidon" and "Inferno" found the formula had grown stale by the late 1970s. His 1978 release "The Swarm" is generally referred to as the worst "Bee" movie ever made. His 1980 anemic attempt to blend cast members with elements of "Poseidon" and "Inferno" was released as "When Time Ran Out", an appropriate enough title for the flop that ended his big screen career. Another costly casualty of the disaster genre ebb was "Meteor", a 1979 production that top-lined an impressive cast: Sean Connery, Natalie Wood, Brian Keith, Karl Malden, Martin Landau, Trevor Howard and Henry Fonda. It was produced by Gabe Gatzka and Sandy Howard (among others), two veterans with very respected backgrounds in the film industry. The film was directed by another highly respected individual, Ronald Neame, the man who had helmed "The Poseidon Adventure". On paper, the project must have looked like a "can't lose" proposition. Yet, "Meteor" turned out to be a major flop at the boxoffice as well as a critical disaster. What went wrong? To start with, it was probably ill-advised to entrust the production to American-International Pictures which specialized in making low-budget horror and teeny bopper exploitation films. The AIP association branded "Meteor" with a "cheesy" stigma even before cameras rolled.

Connery stars as a cynical, world-respected scientist whose warnings about the possibility of earth being hit by a destructive meteor have largely been ignored. When the film opens, he is summoned to Washington by government officials who tell him the top secret bombshell disclosure that his worst nightmare is about to come true. A gigantic meteor is racing towards earth and there is only one way to stop it: by having the USA and Soviet Union join forces to synchronize their nuclear missiles in the hopes of blasting the meteor out of the sky. Brian Keith plays the Soviet foreign minister who meets up with Connery and his colleagues at a secret underground New York City command center located adjacent to the subway system (!) Natalie Wood is his gorgeous interpreter, which allows for some mildly suggestive byplay between Connery and her. There's little time for romance, however, as advance particles from the meteor are already hitting earth and causing widespread damage. With time running out, the U.S, and Soviet technicians scramble to employ their nuclear arsenals in a last ditch attempt to save earth. This scenario might seem stale today, but it was a relatively fresh concept back in '79. However, the film was undermined by the apparent shortage of production funds for use in the special effects. The sets are elaborate and impressive but the key sequences showing the missiles in action are laughably poor. Equally bad are the shots of the presumably menacing meteor hurtling towards earth. No matter how much the filmmakers try, it never looks much more terrifying than a large rock you might encounter in your garden. (Sean Connery once referred to the meteor special effects as making the titular objects resemble "little balls of shit".) The screenplay is a scattershot affair. Apparently concerned that concentrating on the key characters who are locked into an underground command center might prove to be too claustrophobic, the decision was made to "open up" the scenario by showing various international locations being destroyed by meteor fragments. In doing so, the screenwriters cram in completely extraneous characters who are given approximately ten seconds each to develop personalities in the hope we can sympathize with them when they are pulverized. Thus, we see a young father in Hong Kong scrambling to save his child before a tidal wave engulfs the city. People in a ski resort in Switzerland are given equal opportunity for brief character development before they are buried under an avalanche. The sin of it all is that the production company really did film on location in these places but, aside from a few impressive snippets of crowds running frantically through the streets of Hong Kong, there is limited to value to the expenses incurred in shooting in such disparate areas of the globe.  

(Above: about half-way through this interview, Sean Connery discusses "Meteor".)

Yet, for all its cheesiness, "Meteor" somehow plays better today than it did at the time of its initial release. This is primarily due to the fact that we can appreciate seeing the great cast members interacting on the big screen. Connery, middle-aged and handsome, makes for a fine leading man. Natalie Wood is given little of substance to do here but, given this was one of her last films, it gives us a precious opportunity to at least see her natural beauty. Brian Keith, long underrated as a leading man in feature films, steals the show, playing against type as a witty and funny Soviet diplomat. Only poor Martin Landau comes across awful in an unintentionally funny performance as a fussy U.S. general who refuses to trust his Soviet counterparts (Fritz Weaver played essentially the same role very well in "Fail Safe" fifteen years earlier.) The finale of the film is truly impressive as a sea of mud descends upon the underground command center. The sequence was a challenge to film and, if it looks like it was dangerous for the actors, it indeed was: several cast members were injured during this elaborate sequence. 

"Meteor" isn't the bottom of the barrel of disaster movies. In fact, it is quite entertaining in its own way. If you don't compare it to "The Poseidon Adventure" and "The Towering Inferno" you very well may end up liking it. 

The film is currently streaming on Amazon Prime. 

By Todd Garbarini

The quintessential and politically incorrect New York movie The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (1974) is an adaptation of John Godey’s novel of the same name and is brilliantly directed by Joseph Sargent with loads of smile-inducing and laugh-out-loud humor. This is the not the reaction one would associate with a film that is marketed as a taut exercise in suspense, but one needs to understand and appreciate the era in which the film was made. New York City was in financial distress fifty years ago, with crime, violence and drug use running rampant. Subway cars were blanketed in graffiti, and it was a dangerous time to be walking the streets.

Pelham is the first and best of three filmed versions of the novel and concerns four heavily armed men, all sporting moustaches and machine guns. They are named after colors to mask their identities (this idea was lifted by Quentin Tarantino and used to great effect in his 1992 film Reservoir Dogs). They commandeer an Interborough Rapid Transit (IRT) train from the subway system and hold eighteen passengers hostage. They demand one million dollars in cash for their release within one hour – a mere pittance in 2025’s dollars – and will shoot one passenger per minute should the police fail to provide the money by the ascribed deadline. Robert Shaw shines as the lead baddy and heads the superb cast which also features Martin Balsam as a sneezing confederate; Walter Matthau is the Transit Authority lieutenant who negotiates with Shaw and lives on his wits, making a last-minute snap decision that buys them time; Hector Elizondo is virtually unrecognizable as the monkey-in-the-wrench who causes problems for Shaw with his own sense of bravado; and Kenneth MacMillian is the Borough Commander. Among the film’s highlights are Matthau’s off-handed and embarrassing treatment of the representatives of the Tokyo Metropolitan Subway System who are visiting; Tom Pedi’s role as Caz Dalowicz whose no-B.S. approach to the hijackers results in a shootout in the tunnel; Lieutenant Rico Patrone (Jerry Stiller) who reads the newspaper and is annoyed that he is being “interrupted” by the Japanese reps touring the facility; Lee Wallace’s turn as the Mayor (he is a near dead ringer for Mayor Ed Koch who became the New York Mayor four years after the film’s release) and his inefficacy in dealing with the situation at hand, including his Deputy Mayor, played brilliantly by Tony Roberts; and Robert Weil as a transit worker – he’s a character actor who appeared in dozens of great New York films. It also has one of the best endings to any film of recent memory.

Pelham manages to juggle suspense and outright human hilarity in a way that few films that I have seen are able to. Bob Clark’s Black Christmas, released the same year, also walks a tightrope of laugh out-loud jokes on the one hand and intense fright on the other. While the idea of a group of men “hijacking” a subway car might seem farfetched and implausible, how about the city’s departments co-operating collectively to achieve a peaceful outcome to the scenario at hand? There’s one for the books!

The Taking of Pelham One Two Three was released on Wednesday, October 2, 1974 in New York City. What the film captures perfectly is the sense that working people have about themselves and their jobs, a “another day at the office” mentality as they go about their routines. The sentiments of the film are timeless and ring true in a city where corruption and racism run behind-the-scenes and are perfectly sized-up by Doris Roberts’s turn as the mayor’s wife when she tells him what he will receive in return for paying out the ransom: eighteen sure votes, exposing the expendability of the passengers.

Pelham was also lensed in 1998 for television by Felix Enriquez Alcala, starring Lorraine Bracco, Edward James-Olmos, and Louis Del Grande. This version posits Vincent D’Onofrio taking the place of Robert Shaw and updates the times with a $5 million dollar ransom. Despite the film’s star power, the lack of profanity in the New York setting, the use of archaic train cars betrayed by the presence of oversized ceiling fans, and a lack of tension all combined to make the film unrealistic, filling the audience with a yen to revisit the original.

Tony Scott made a version in 2009 with John Travolta and Denzel Washington, this time stylizing the title with Pelham 123 as numerical numbers and upping the ransom to $10 million dollars. Gotta love inflation. It is a well-made version with less emphasis on humor and more on action and it is a film that stands on its own, and one of the few times that Mr. Washington portrays a modern day Everyman just trying to get along.

A movie-only edition of Pelham was issued on Blu-ray in 2011, and that transfer appeared to be derived from the same master that was used on the standard definition DVD released in 2000. A new 4K restoration was performed in 2022 by Kino Lorber and the film was released as a two-disc set on 4K UHD and standard Blu-ray with a much-improved image. There were a host of extras added, which can be found on this standard Blu-ray release now available following the 50^th anniversary of the film’s release:

First up is an audio commentary by film historians Steve Mitchell and Nathaniel Thompson which runs the entire length of the film. They are informative and highly engaging and are an example of what I love about commentaries. They give a fair amount of information on the background of the cast, discuss the film’s themes, and how the film’s overall look was achieved, among many others. I am a sucker for these 1970’s gritty New York films, and this one fits the bill.

There is a second audio commentary by actor and filmmaker Pat Healy and film programmer/historian Jim Healy and is equally informative and entertaining.

The Making of Pelham One Two Three is a cleverly-titled piece that runs 6:08 and features the actual shooting of the film during November 1973 through April 1974. It is told from the perspective of a transit policeman, Carmine Foresta, who was hired as a technical consultant on the film. He has a small role in the film also while appearing briefly in Francis Coppola’s The Godfather Part II (1974) and Sidney Lumet’s Dog Day Afternoon (1975). My only complaint is the short running time. I would have loved to have seen more behind-the-scenes (BTS) footage and hear input from cinematographer Owen Roizman, who shot The French Connection three years earlier for William Friedkin and has managed to capture New York City in a way that I have not seen from any other director of photography.

12 Minutes with Mr. Grey features a 2016 interview with actor Hector Elizondo who recalls getting the role and enjoying his time working with the late director Joseph Sargent. He points out how the station that they shot in was fairly clean as it was unused (there was no way to interrupt actual daily subway traffic) and therefore free of graffiti.

Cutting on Action runs 9:09 and features a 2016 interview with film editor Gerald B. Greenberg, who won an Oscar for cutting The French Connection. That film is highly lauded for its memorable subway/car chase through Brooklyn, NY. In Pelham, there is an action sequence featuring police cars racing to the subway station to get the money to the henchmen. Mr. Greenberg gives insight into his work on the film. Again, I would have loved a longer piece. He discusses the editing process and being overwhelmed by the sheer amount of footage he had to work with. He brought in another editor, Robert Q. Lovett, to help him cut the film and help create tension and suspense.

The Sound of the City runs 9:07 and features input from composer David Shire. He began composing music for television shows back in the 1960’s, such as CBS Playhouse and The Sixth Sense before creating the amazing score for Francis Coppola’s The Conversation (1974). His theme to Pelham is no less brilliant. He recalls how the music originally sounded like a “dissonant Lalo Schifrin.” He would later score Martin Ritt’s Norma Rae (1979) and win an Oscar for his collaboration with Norman Gimbel for the song It Goes Like It Goes.

Trailers from Hell with Josh Olson runs just over two minutes and he comments on the film, rightly praising it for its accomplishments as a great New York movie. Interestingly, the film did not make money at the box office. I suppose that New York humor does not go over well in Montana…

There is an Image and Poster Gallery that runs 2:20 which features artwork and black and white snapshots of scenes from the film.

There are two radio spots, and this is something that I truly miss from the past. I loved hearing these spots for movies on the radio, especially the ones created for horror films. These spots are a fun listen.

The TV spot for the film is included here.

There are also theatrical trailers for Pelham; Don Siegel’s Charlie Varrick (1973) and Stuart Rosenberg’s The Laughing Policeman, both from 1973 and both with Walter Matthau; Guy Hamilton’s Force 10 From Navarone (1979); Joseph Sargent’s White Lightning (1973) with Burt Reynolds; John Frankenheimer’s The Train (1964) with Burt Lancaster; Tom Griers’s Breakheart Pass (1975) with Charles Bronson; and Andrei Konchalosky’s Runaway Train (1985) with Jon Voight and Eric Roberts.

The Taking of Pelham One Two Three is one of the best films made during the American cinema's most riveting decade.

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By Ernie Magnotta

“A question of honor becomes a mission of vengeance!” Martial arts champion and action movie icon Sho Kosugi returns in the explosive ‘80s cult classic Rage of Honor; a Bond-like film which has just been released to Blu-ray.

Written by Robert Short and Wallace C. Bennett, and directed by Gordon Hessler (who had previously helmed Sho’s delightful 1985 hit Pray for Death), Rage of Honor finds our hero—undercover narcotics agent Shiro Tanaka (Kosugi)—on a vengeance-fueled mission after his partner is sadistically murdered by ruthless drug runners. Shiro’s single-minded quest eventually gets the love of his life kidnapped, so now he must summon all of his skills in order to save her and put an end to the cold-blooded criminals once and for all.

Filmed on location in Argentina and released in February of 1987 by Trans World Entertainment, Rage of Honor is a very enjoyable piece of action cinema. Director Hessler expertly handles the movie’s many top-notch and exciting action sequences while once again leaving the martial arts choreography to the great Sho Kosugi (who also designed the special weapons featured in the film). Kosugi is amazing to watch and it’s no wonder why he became such a beloved 80s action hero. Also starring Robin Evans and Chip Lucia with a memorable score by Stelvio Cipriani.

Rage of Honor has been released on a region one Blu-ray and is presented in its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio. The movie looks and sounds fantastic and the special features include a wonderful audio commentary by action film historian Mike Leeder and UK cult movie director Ross Boyask; the informative featurettes: Sho and Tell Part 2 (interview with Show Kosugi), Honorable Mentions (interview with composer Stelvio Cipriani), and American Ninjas (video essay by Chris Poggiali on the rise of the ninja film in the 1980s) as well as the original theatrical trailer. The Blu-ray also comes with an eye-catching slipcover. More than worth a look.

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The Australian video label ViaVision/Imprint has released a second boxed set of Blu-ray special editions devoted to Marlon Brando. The region-free set cover six films released between the years 1969-1989.  The films are:

• "The Night of the Following Day"
• "Last Tango in Paris"
• "The Nightcomers"
• "The Missouri Breaks" 
• "A Dry White Season"
• "Listen to Me Marlon" documentary

By Todd Garbarini

I cannot imagine working and living in a submarine. The confined spaces and claustrophobic nature of the layout and the seemingly never-ending levels and twists and turns make for a nerve-wracking experience. I have been a fan of underwater movies since my youth. The first one I recall watching is David Greene’s Gray Lady Down (1978) when it aired on NBC-TV in October 1979. Richard Fleischer’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954), Kevin O’Connor’s Goliath Awaits (1981), and Wolfgang Petersen’s Das Boot (1982) followed in the years hence. James Cameron’s The Abyss (1989) is by far the finest underwater tale I have seen, weaving a modern-day morality tale and admonishment akin to Robert Wise’s The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951) to say nothing of the dissolution and eventual rebirth of the love between a divorced couple. George P. Cosmatos’s Leviathan (1989) and Sean S. Cunningham’s Deep Star Six (1989) are interesting though nowhere-nearly-as-good companions. Tony Scott’s Crimson Tide (1995) brought great actors into the depths with an edge-of-your-seat thriller.

David Twohy’s Below, filmed in 2001 and released on October 18, 2002, came and went during a brief theatrical run. An underwater thriller that takes place in 1943 aboard the fictitious submarine USS Tiger Shark, Below is a story involving secrets, frayed nerves and ghosts. Bruce Greenwood, who has been phenomenal in his work for Armenian filmmaker Atom Egoyan, is Lieutenant Brice, the commanding officer of the sub whose men pick up the survivors of the British hospital ship Fort James: Claire (Olivia Williams, best known as Bruce Willis’s wife in M. Night Shyamalan’s The Sixth Sense (1999), who plays the only woman in the film), and two men, one of whom is a German whom Brice shoots and kills following an altercation. The presence of a female on the sub historically infers bad luck, and this crew begins to experience their own taste of it. Strange things begin to happen – voices are heard in the halls, a record player loudly calls attention to itself at the most unfortunate of times, and confusion mounts in the ranks. Depth charges dropped by the Germans result in exterior damage that requires outside repair. More deaths follow, and the crew begin to question the validity of how Brice inherited the mantle from Lieutenant Commander Winters. After all, they are only getting Brice’s account of it. The situation begins to spiral: the periscope and control tower have sustained damage from the German destroyer looking to sink the sub; oxygen is being depleted, and hydrogen is slowly replacing it; a ghost is haunting the premises. Is this true, or can we chalk it up to hallucinations precipitated by oxygen deprivation?

This all sounds great on paper, but unfortunately there is very little in the way of actual suspense, which is surprising considering the film’s most obvious character, the sub itself, and its imposing atmosphere. It becomes obvious that Brice is hiding a secret, and when it is revealed, there is little in the way of astonishment at his actions. The performances are all quite good. You will find some recognizable faces in this cast.

Below began life in the summer of 1998 in the form of an historical sci-fi thriller but soon morphed into a ghost story following the theatrical success of David Twohy’s Pitch Black (2000) with Vin Diesel. While that film has enjoyed near cult status and has been followed up with several sequels, Below simply did not have the interest from the audience that it required to be successful.

Kino Lorber has released the film on both 4K UHD Blu-ray and standard Blu-ray and the results are quite nice indeed. The former has a very sharp transfer, and an audio commentary recorded in 2002 for the DVD at the time. It features director David Twohy and actors Matt Davis, Bruce Greenwood, Holt McCallany, Zach Galifianakis, and Nick Chinlund. They talk about the challenges of making the film, and their conversation is spirited and amusing to listen to as they rib one another. Missing is actress Olivia Williams who was away shooting P.J. Hogan’s Peter Pan (2003) and was unable to join in on the fun. This is a shame as I would have liked to have gotten her perspective on playing the film’s sole female character.

The standard Blu-ray also boasts a nice transfer, although in addition to the running commentary it has other extras that are exclusive to this disc:

The Process: Featurette runs 12:24 and is a piece that looks at the making of the film. My only complaint about it is the short running time. I love behind-the-scenes (BTS) pieces, and this one includes excerpts from the shooting script, storyboards, previsualization of scenes, and uncompleted scenes. These documentaries are important as all the people who work BTS deserve to be recognized for their hard work.

Deleted Scenes (8:19) – this section gives you the option of playing the scenes individually or all together with the Play All option. There is an Optional Audio Commentary by the director, and he explains why the scenes were removed and what the original ending consisted of. These scenes appear to have been ported over from the DVD edition and are presented in standard definition. Perhaps they were unable to find these scenes and rescan them in HD? These are the titles of the three omitted scenes and their running times:

Creepy Comic (1:36)

Hot Fish (3:39)

Red Flare Ending (3:03)

The last features are trailers for the following films:

Below from 2002

Sean S. Cunningham’s Deep Star Six from 1989

William Friedkin’s Bug from 2006

E. Elias Merhige’s Suspect Zero from 2004

Park Chan-wook’s Thirst from 2009

Last of all is the cover art. The original key art for the movie poster features the same imagery that appears on this 4K and Blu-ray release, including the stylization of the film’s title. The standard DVD release, by contrast, reversed the image of the sinking sub and added Bruce Greenwood’s frightened face in the sub’s vapor trail, which I found more effective (the film’s title, however, is stylized differently).

If you’re a fan of Below, this upgrade is a nice step up from the standard DVD.

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Here's one of those marvelous vintage "making of" production shorts that took viewers behind the scenes on a forthcoming film, in this case, the 1967 blockbuster "The Dirty Dozen". If you can tolerate the hokey narration, the featurette affords some great candid footage of the cast at work and play in London. The movie was shot at the now defunct MGM British Studios Borehamwood. Curiously, although the featurette depicts or at least mentions the major names in the cast, Donald Sutherland is not identified. He was not well known at the time but the film would help elevate his profile in international cinema and major stardom would follow.

In honor of Valentine's Day, let's look back at one of film industry's greatest love stories: director David Lean's 1945 classics, "Brief Encounter" starring Celia Johnson and Trevor Howard. It's a masterpiece of post-war British cinema and it's emotional impact has remained undiminished over the decades.

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By Ernie Magnotta

No disrespect to Mike Stone, Franco Nero, Lee Van Cleef or Michael Dudikoff (I love ‘em all), but the true 1980s ninja is, without a doubt, Sho Kosugi. After completing Cannon Films’ very popular and now classic “Ninja Trilogy” (“Enter the Ninja” (1981) “Revenge of the Ninja” (1983) and “Ninja III: The Domination (1984), martial arts legend Kosugi went right back to work, starring in the thoroughly entertaining Pray for Death. Luckily for us, the film has just been released on Blu-ray.

Written by the movie’s co-star James Booth and directed by veteran British filmmaker Gordon Hessler (who also helmed Sho’s next feature, 1987’s Rage of Honor), Pray for Death tells the tale of master ninja Akira Saito (Kosugi) who moves to America with his family, but inadvertently becomes involved with vicious mobsters who murder his wife and threaten his children. With the local police powerless against the gangsters, the peaceful (except when provoked) Akira becomes the ultimate vigilante and he warns his enemies, “Stay away from the Saito family. If you don’t, I promise you, you will pray for death.”

Released in August of 1985 by Trans World Entertainment, Pray for Death is a highly enjoyable 80s action film with an exciting, if somewhat familiar story (similar to Sho’s Revenge of the Ninja), and awe-inspiring martial arts sequences choreographed by All Japan Karate Champion Kosugi. The kick-ass movie also features an excellent cast including Norman Burton, Michael Constantine, Parley Baer, Robert Ito, and Sho’s real-life sons Kane and Shane Kosugi; not to mention expert editing by Academy Award nominee Bill Butler.

If you’re a fan of action movies from this era then Pray for Death is definitely for you. Although I enjoy all of Kosugi’s films, this one is my absolute favorite. What we have here is 92 minutes of 80s fun culminating with Sho all decked out in his bulletproof ninja garb (which includes a very cool helmet, deadly sword, bow and arrows, ninja stars and other assorted weapons), doling out ninjitsu justice to the scum of the earth! You gotta love it.

Pray for Death has been released on a region one Blu-ray. It is presented in its original 2.35:1 aspect ratio and the film looks and sounds terrific. The special features include an entertaining and informative audio commentary by action film historian Mike Leeder and UK cult movie director Ross Boyask as well as the first part of a great two-part interview with Sho Kosugi, and the original theatrical trailer. This release is a two-disc special edition which contains both the rated and unrated versions of the film and it also comes with an attractive slipcover. Check it out!

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Between now and Valentine's Day, ViaVision/Imprint, the popular Australian video label, is having a 25% off sale. Click here to visit the site. (Most of their Blu-rays are region-free). Prices are in Australian dollars. Use a currency converter for your local pricing.