RETRO-ACTIVE: THE BEST FROM THE CINEMA RETRO ARCHIVES

BY LEE PFEIFFER

I have always been a great admirer of Paul Henning, the crooner-turned-TV producer/writer of some of the best-loved shows of the 1960s. It was Henning who gave a voice to rural audiences by creating such classic TV series as The Beverly Hillbilllies, Petticoat Junction and Green Acres. If you revisit any of them today, they remain far superior to most contemporary sitcoms. Henning not only created shows that have timeless appeal, but he also brainstormed the concept of interweaving characters and plot devices between the series- a stroke of genius that brought cross-promotion marketing to new levels. Henning also prided himself on making his country characters eccentric, but never idiotic. They were simple people living simple lives and if they seemed to exist in a time warp, they were all honest, admirable folks. It was always the sophisticated city slickers who would get their comeuppance at the hands of these "bumpkins". Andy Griffith once told me that it irked him when audiences would say that the actors were just "playing themselves". He pointed out that, in most cases, these actors had long, distinguished careers prior to appearing in rural sitcoms. He wanted to stress that these were outstanding talents and should never have been pigeon-holed as actual country hicks. Paul Henning strictly oversaw quality control on his shows and demanded that every episode by family-friendly. Thus, I was in for quite a shock when I sat down to review MPI's screener copy of the 1981 TV movie Return of the Beverly Hillbillies. I don't recall this particular show, but from the get-go the title is deceiving. The only original Hillbillies are Buddy Ebsen's Jed Clampett and Donna Douglas's Elly May. Irene Ryan, who played Granny, had passed away years before. Max Baer Jr., who played Jethro, had the good sense to stay away from the project. Nancy Kulp reprises her role as Jane Hathaway, but her on-screen boss, the inimitable Raymond Bailey had also died and, like Ryan, his presence is sorely missed. (Henning cast actor Ray Young as Jethro, and although he does his best, we are all too aware that he was not part of the original cast.)

Henning's script is too over-the-top even for a Hillbillies plot device. In this case, President Reagan is desperate to solve the energy crisis. He dispatches Jane Hathaway (now a Washington bureaucrat) to track down the secret formula of Granny Clampett's white lightning, which is deemed to be so powerful it might be useful as a source of fuel. Jane arrives on horseback at Jed Clampett's mountain cabin. In the aftermath of Granny's death, Jethro went on to run his own movie studio and Elly May has opened a zoo. Rather than live alone in his Beverly Hills mansion, Jed has returned to his roots, his only concession to wealth being a bigger cabin that he has constructed. The feeble plot follows Jane and Jed's search around the premises for any remaining jugs of Granny's booze that can be brought to Washington to analyze. She is accompanied by C.D. Medford, a humorless member of the President's team who will use any ruthless method to obtain the formula for the white lightning. (One of the lamest aspects of Henning's script is a repetitive gag in which samples of the booze are repeatedly discovered only to be lost accidentally.) The role of Medford is played by the great Werner Klemperer, who is criminally misused here in a role that diminishes his talents and makes him a truly loathsome character. To compensate for Irene Ryan's absence, Henning created the role of Granny's mother! She is played by another TV legend, Imogene Coca but the character has to be one of the most grating and irritating in the history of the medium. She screeches like a banshee, runs about hitting people with a stick and otherwise making herself unwelcome.

Perhaps the most shocking aspect of the ill-fated venture is Henning's decision to deliberately move away from family fare to smut. That's right, this new, updated version of the series features such wholesome fare as strippers, Asian massage girls, scantily clad teenage "old maids" (young Heather Locklear among them!) and a very embarrassing striptease performed by Klemperer. Why Henning decided he had to degrade his characters in order to appear hip is not known, but he certainly should have known better. There are tasteless jokes about Jed Clampett's sex life (or lack thereof) and one punch line about Auschwitz! I kid you not...I actually had to backtrack to make sure I heard it right. Can you imagine an episode of The Beverly Hillbillies where the "funny" payoff line refers to a Nazi death camp? The movie is peppered with some welcome character actors including perpetual grouch Charles Lane, Lloyd "Shad" Heller, Lurene Tuttle and Earl Scruggs, who performs a musical number. Henning runs out the clock in the last fifteen minutes with an absurd, endless car chase featuring King Donovan in an obnoxious performance that makes Imogene Coca's character look like a model of restraint.  The film is also disappointing in that Elly May and Jed only share the screen together in the last few minutes of the movie. The ill-fated venture was directed by Robert M. Leeds, who also should have known better because he worked on the last season of the original series.

Despite the dreadful aspects of the main feature, I am heartily recommending that you buy the DVD itself, if only because of the superb bonus extras. There is a one hour documentary about Paul Henning that features the man himself in vintage interviews, along with new insights from his daughter Linda (an actress who appears in Return of the Beverly Hillbillies), Max  Baer Jr., Charles Lane and some of the producers and writers who worked on the original show. (Strangely, Donna Douglas is not among them.) They offer some wonderful anecdotes about Henning's triumph in creating three hit series in the 60s  only to have CBS honcho Fred Silverman cancel these favorites in favor of appealing to urban audiences (which turned out to  be a major misjudgment). Henning's talents extended to writing the theme song to The Beverly Hillbillies, which ingeniously tells the entire premise of the scenario in popular ditty that is still being sung today. Other bonus extras include an introduction by Henning's daughter Linda Nelson, a genial lady who clearly adored her father; a wealth of original Kelloggs Corn Flakes ads featuring the cast, original TV promos for the Hillbillies and Green Acres and a promotional short for a never-produced wildlife series featuring Donna Douglas as Elly May.

If you love the show, skip the main event and head straight to those bonus extras....

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“ALICE OF THE SPIRITS”

By Raymond Benson

Revisiting Woody Allen’s 1990 film Alice after all these years brought on many emotions. I instruct the students in my Film History class at the College of DuPage in Glen Ellyn, Illinois, that one must always judge a film within the context of when it was released. These days, it’s difficult to do so with the formidable filmography of Woody Allen. Can one put aside the context of when this film was released? Alice was made while the writer/director’s relationship with his star, Mia Farrow, was supposedly still rosy, less than a couple of years before the familial scandal erupted that has dogged the filmmaker ever since. Can one ignore the presence—throughout the film—of young Dylan Farrow, playing the role of Alice’s daughter? Or, ironically, the small role played by James Toback in the film? (Readers familiar with what’s been going on in Hollywood lately will understand that comment.)

At the same time, Cinema Retro’s editor-in-chief recently said, “What, are we to pretend that Allen’s entire career never existed? Our job is to evaluate the artistry, not the personal morality. Otherwise we’d quickly run out of people to write about.”

Indeed.

Nevertheless, I couldn’t help examining Alice as an omniscient behind-the-scenes spectator. Oddly, I’ve reviewed several new Blu-ray releases of Allen’s movies for Cinema Retro over the past few years, and I’ve never felt this kind of discomfort. That doesn’t mean I can’t critique the movie’s merits, it’s just that Woody Allen’s oeuvre now comes with baggage. One must simply unpack it and look at what’s there on the screen.

Alice is actually a pretty good entry in the director’s work. Considering that he’s made nearly fifty films, this one probably belongs in the lower half of the list in ranking, but certainly nowhere near the bottom. It’s a solid 2-1/2 or 3-star effort (out of 4), mainly due to Mia Farrow’s excellent performance as the mousy but rich Manhattan housewife who desperately wants to change her life—but doesn’t know it yet.

Alice is married to wealthy, but stuffy, Doug (William Hurt), who has a high-powered job. This leaves Alice to tend to her two small children (when they’re not cared for by nannies and maids), hang out with her socialite friends, and get her nails and hair done. It’s a very superficial life until she meets Joe (Joe Mantegna), a divorced father, at her children’s school. Another hard left turn is when Alice visits a mysterious Chinese doctor (Keye Luke), who hypnotizes her, gives her strange herbs to take, and pushes her into a fantasy world that turns her own upside down.

In many ways, Alice is a companion piece to The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985), another of Allen’s more whimsical pieces that deals with fanciful situations. In Alice, Farrow’s character can become invisible and spy on people, she can meet up with her deceased first boyfriend (Alec Baldwin) and fly over the city with him, and she can recreate childhood memories involving her parents and sister. It’s these elements that make Alice a fun, if fluffy, romp. It is also in many ways somewhat an homage to Federico Fellini’s Juliet of the Spirits (1965), in which a bored housewife ventures into fantasy sequences to escape the doldrums of her philandering husband and to better her own life.

Farrow owns the movie. For most of it, Alice is timid, nervous, and hesitant to try new things—but Farrow infuses these qualities with a great deal of charm. She literally lights up the screen with beauty and a winning pathos. Then there are the moments when she breaks out of this “shell”—such as when one of the doctor’s herbs makes her suggestive and flirtatious, notched up to eleven. Her seduction scene with Joe in the school waiting area is not only hilarious, but her transformation is masterful. One comes away from it thinking, “Wow, I didn’t know Mia Farrow could do that!” (Farrow was nominated for a Golden Globe—and she won the Best Actress award from the National Board of Review—for her performance.)

BY LEE PFEIFFER

The packaging for the 1978 grindhouse film "Sex Roulette" states it is "a West German/Belgian erotic oddity".  That's seems like an accurate description because this is, indeed, one weird production. While most X-rated fare from the era were relatively unimaginative, micro-budget affairs, "Sex Roulette" looks relatively lush and was filmed in some exotic European locations. It also presents some of the strangest characters ever assembled in a film of this type. We can start with Robert Le Ray, an actor who began his career in legitimate films only to transcend into the world of X-rated fare. Le Ray is the male lead in the film and he's debonair and handsome in a Leslie Nielsen kind of way. He was also 77 years old when he was cast. He plays Lord Robert de Chamoiz, an affable aristocrat with a sizable bank account and seemingly no responsibilities or worries. He has an unusually close relationship with his vivacious young niece, Veronique (Vanessa Melville). The two travel the world in style to indulge in their greatest passions. For Veronique this means the gaming tables at top-tier casinos where she gambles without abandon. For Lord de Chamoiz (who she refers to simply as "Uncle"), this means trying to tame his insatiable appetite for sex by bedding seemingly every young woman who comes into his orbit. He has a special passion for chamber maids and bribes them with large sums of money to not only go to bed with him but to also participate in sex acts they would otherwise not ever contemplate. These include arranged group sex encounters during which Uncle acts as a sort of perverted narrator for the action that is unfolding. He possesses an almost hypnotic ability to comfort the women involved and speaks to them in a soothing, paternal manner even while they are engaging in wild acts. Uncle is also a voyeur and he takes every opportunity to engage in this secondary passion. When he has a chance meeting with an auto mechanic who is repairing his car, he bribes the man to allow him to surreptitiously watch him make love to his girlfriend. Meanwhile, the gorgeous Veronique finds herself virtually frigid due to the fact that all of her time and thought process goes into gambling. Uncle has a solution for that: she should assertively have sexual encounters with the strangers in order to reawaken her libido. Turns out it's good advice. After she is seduced by lesbian sisters (!), Veronique finds her love life is back to whatever passes for "normal". The third major character is the Lord's faithful butler, a black man who also happens to be a little person. He's just as sex-crazed as his boss and functions as both a solicitor for his women but also manages to use his physical condition to attract women for himself on the basis that they've never made love to a little person. A running gag in the film is the butler's preference for engaging in sex on desktops, which mandates that he stand on a stack of telephone books. Every time he walks through the room with some telephone books, the Lord jokes that his loyal servant has gotten lucky again. After traveling to Monte Carlo and living it up on the Lord's seemingly inexhaustible funds, the film takes an even more bizarre turn when Veronique seduces her uncle. The whole story climaxes, if you will, with a big orgy atop gaming tables in a casino.

Veronique is addicted to the Bondian world of high stakes casinos.

There are so many distasteful elements to "Sex Roulette" that one can hardly chronicle them all here. However, the movie is genuinely funny, sometimes intentionally sometimes not. The dubbing is wildly inconsistent with some characters' lip movements rarely matching the associated dialogue. The exception is the voice over artist who dubbed Uncle with a gentle, soothing voice that somehow fits the character we view on screen. The film also boasts some impressive elements that seem out of left field. An extended scene of a car ride down a major highway at high speed benefits from having the camera mounted inside the car, which gives a real big budget feel to the sequence as well as some impressive footage. There are also scenes of Monte Carlo shot from a helicopter that seem appropriate for a mainstream travelogue. The most amusing elements of the film revolve around the characters of Uncle, Veronique and the butler. They seem straight out of "The Munsters" or "The Addams Family" in that they appear to be complete oblivious about the fact that their activities don't fit in with those of "normal" people. Just as Gomez Addams blew up toy trains with TNT and his children chopped off doll heads on a mini guillotine, the principals in "Sex Roulette" act as those their strange sexual doings are quite normal. Uncle is being serviced by a hotel maid? Okay, I'll just wait until they are finished to enter the room and discuss important matters. Veronique's encounter with lesbian sisters got her mind off gambling for a few hours? Marvelous! The butler finds love with a BBW-type who he met at an orgy?  How wonderful that he's found his soul mate! There are some Bondian elements to the atmosphere with the trio visiting high stakes casinos where men wear tuxedos and women are adorned in expensive dresses and gowns. (One suspects the other elegant people who appear in these scenes probably had no idea they would turn up in a sex film.)  Here, Uncle demonstrates a bizarre but unique talent. At the roulette table, he insists on tasting several of the steel balls used in the wheel. He churns them around in his mouth until he finally finds one that is acceptable-then with lightning speed he spits it out and has it land precisely on the number he wants to play on the roulette wheel. It's oddball scenes like this that make one think that these characters could have had a life in a "legitimate" comedy that wasn't dependent on hard-core sex scenes.

"Uncle" is about to indulge in his strange ritual of tasting roulette balls before spitting one on to the wheel.

Impulse Films has released "Sex Roulette" on DVD. According to the liner notes, the film was routinely butchered in various international markets because of the tastelessness of some scenes. (i.e: in one sequence, Uncle arranges for some young people to carry out an orgy inexplicably held in a literal pig pen.). The DVD restores all of the most controversial scenes and has been remastered from original 35mm elements. The end result remains an acquired taste for viewers with very liberal outlooks on what forms entertainment. However, for this writer, it is superior to most grind house fare from the era simply because it is so cheerfully off-the-charts crazy.

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Joe Dante's "Trailers from Hell" web site features another esteemed director, John Landis, providing commentary and observations about Roger Vadim's wacko 1971 sexploitation/comedy/murder mystery "Pretty Maids All in a Row". Landis points out that MGM was at death's door from a financial standpoint and to stay alive, the studio started grinding out exploitation films that were given a glossier look by the casting of reputable big names in the lead roles. "Pretty Maids" finds Rock Hudson, giving a terrific performance, as a lecherous high school coach who systematically beds seemingly every good looking, under-age female student he comes in contact with. There is no shortage of them, either. Vadim's cinematic wet dream finds every girl to be a sex-crazed, jaw-dropping beauty. That can also describe Angie Dickinson, a cougar teacher with a habit of seducing under-aged male students. Things start to go awry when some of the girls start turning up dead. Telly Savalas is the L.A. police detective assigned to crack the case. The inspired supporting cast includes Roddy McDowell and Keenan Wynn. As Landis observes, the film is outrageously sleazy and politically incorrect and it would be inconceivable for any major studio to even consider releasing it today. (Needless to say, we love it.) However, back in the crazy '70s, both studios and filmmakers were far more daring and far less apologetic about their undertakings on screen. Bizarrely, the film was written and produced by Gene Roddenberry. Go figure. 

Click here to view the trailer with or without the Landis commentary.  

Click here to read review of the DVD.  

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By Lee Pfeiffer

Impulse Pictures continues its obsession with sleazy 1970s porn flicks with the release of "The Chambermaids", a 1974 opus that exploits erotic fantasies regarding the otherwise mundane occupation of hotel maids. Yes, there is something about maids and nurses that appeals to below-the-belt interests of men and these scenarios were often the basis of porn flicks going back to the beginning of the genre. Naturally, in order for the fantasies to be enacted, the maids in question have to be young and pretty and not look like members of the old Soviet Olympics team. In "The Chambermaids" two young women, Mary Ellen and Sally, are bored with their low-paying professions of cleaning rooms in a big city hotel. They devise a plot to become considerably more friendly to male guests in the hope they will be financially rewarded for their efforts. It doesn't take long for the plan to meet with success. One of the maids ends up bedding a businessman who is awaiting the arrival of a married colleague. After a hot session with said maid, he asks her to bring a friend back later so he can "entertain" the client in an even more special manner. The other maid, meanwhile, is tidying up the suite of a newlywed couple when she encounters the distraught groom. He explains that his wife is in the bedroom, frustrated, because he can't rise to the occasion. The maid theorizes that he is unnecessarily paranoid about now being married and gives him a crash course in revitalizing his mojo. The grateful hubby then goes back into the boudoir with renewed confidence. Somewhere along the way, the scenario begins to play out like a French bedroom farce with mistaken identities and chance encounters adding some comedic touches. The new bride (conveniently clad in a nightie) ends up wandering into an adjoining hotel room where she observes one of the maids and another woman pleasuring each other. They immediately seduce her and, following this session, she is mistaken for a hooker and ends up bedding the businessman's client. 

"The Chambermaids" doesn't boast any of the big names from the porn industry during this era. Even the ubiquitous John Holmes is nowhere to be seen. Nevertheless, it's a middle-of-the-road production, more ambitious than some and boasting a cast that is fairly attractive, if you don't count the guy who plays the business client. (He resembles the love child of porn legend Ron Jeremy and character actor Al Letieri.) The sex scenes are pretty straight forward and aren't marred by the goofy slapstick comedy that permeated a lot of the X rated flicks of the day. It's  undoubtedly also the only time in screen history in which a woman indulged in oral sex to the strains of Burt Bacharach's Oscar-nominated "Casino Royale" song "The Look of Love". 

Impulse Pictures has wisely chosen to market the movie's shortcomings as strengths. Consider the copy from the back of the DVD sleeve:

"The amateur camerawork, microphone shadows, elevator music, terribly recorded sound and "you are there" extreme close-ups, will bring you back to the days when adult film were cheap and fast and VERY sleazy. Re-mastered from a scratchy, barely surviving theatrical print, "The Chambermaids" is a steamy slice of 70's sex cinema that will have you cleaning up your own room after you watch it!"

At last- a case of truth in advertising! How can you help but love this company?  Besides, that cover art is worth the price alone. 

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Note: this review pertains to the British Region 2  DVD edition 

By Adrian Smith 

Although best known for his work as both a writer, director and producer with Hammer Films, Jimmy Sangster actually relocated to Hollywood during the early 1970s, where he worked very successfully in both film and television. Whilst there he wrote a supernatural script set in a run- down hospital in downtown Detroit. Much to his chagrin, the script was altered to more closely resemble the Hammer movies that were, to him at least, ancient history. Although keeping the American protagonists, events were manipulated to allow the story instead to take place in an English country estate featuring a collection of stereotypical butlers, chauffeurs and curtseying maids. The film is essentially Agatha Christie meets Dennis Wheatley through the filter of Dario Argento.

Katharine Ross is Maggie, a successful American designer who receives a mysterious invitation to work in England. Accompanied by her handsome lover Pete (a youthful and impressively moustachioed Sam Elliott), they jet off to a grey, dull English world of narrow country lanes and chirpy market stall holders. Following a minor motorcycle accident they find themselves guests of the aristocratic Jason Mountolive, who conveniently lives in the kind of stately home that Americans seem to think all the English live in. What they don't realise until it becomes too late is that their arrival there was no accident. When other guests begin to arrive, all successful in their respective fields, it becomes clear that diabolical dealings are underway, and they may be lucky to escape with their lives, or their souls.

The Legacy is perhaps best remembered now for being the film that Ross and Elliott first met on, and subsequently married. It is a peculiar film, mixing cosy drawing room talk with spectacularly violent and gory deaths. Richard Marquand had to be influenced by Argento's Suspiria, released just one year before. Maggie suspects she is descending into madness, feeling that she is losing her grip on reality. And when people like The Who's Roger Daltry and former Bond villain Charles Gray turn up only to suffer spectacularly, she realises that she may be to blame. Could it be something to do with a sixteenth-century witch, with whose portrait she bears an uncanny resemblance?

Although the plot makes very little sense, The Legacy is a very entertaining film. Ross and Elliott show genuine chemistry (perhaps unsurprisingly) as the innocent couple around whom the sinister events unfold. The house becomes a character itself as the camera glides around its oak-panelled hallways, revealing hidden doors, tapestries, archaic ornaments and an increasingly anachronistic collection of 1970s furniture. Although mostly shot on location at Loseley Park House in Surrey, parts of it were also shot at Bray Studios, the spiritual home of Hammer films.

The Legacy in some ways represents the end of an era. By the tail end of the 1970s the money to make films in Britain was running out, and companies like Hammer had gasped their last breath, and Marquand was courted by George Lucas to direct the last part of his Star Wars trilogy. It is well worth taking a look at, and this new DVD from Odeon Entertainment presents an excellent widescreen print. A booklet with background information is the only significant extra, which is a pity. It would be good to hear how Katharine Ross and Sam Elliott look back on the film now, and perhaps a word or two from Roger Daltrey on his dramatic, fish-based demise.

Joe Dante's Trailers From Hell web site presents the original theatrical trailer for MGM's bizarre sex comedy/murder mystery Pretty Maids All in Row. The 1971 film remains one of the most sexist and politically incorrect movies ever released by a major studio. Rock Hudson stars as a horny high school coach who has the pick of the litter in terms of gorgeous and willing schoolgirls. His amorous activities are compromised when someone starts killing off his bed mates. The film, directed by Roger Vadim,  features a stellar cast including Angie Dickinson, Roddy McDowall, Telly Savalas and Keenan Wynn. On the Trailers From Hell site, director John Landis provides some amusing insights about the movie. Click here to view

Click here for Cinema Retro's DVD review 

By Adrian Smith

A sequel to The Wicker Man was first proposed in the mid-1980s by Anthony Schaffer, writer of the original. Titled “The Loathsome Lambton Worm”, it began as soon as the first film ended, as Sergeant Howie is rescued from his fiery fate by police from the mainland. He seeks justice and revenge and goes back to Summerisle, ostensibly to arrest those responsible for his near martyrdom, but instead becomes embroiled in a series of challenges, pitting the old gods against his own Christian faith. The film was to end with Howie fighting a fire-breathing dragon and then plunging willingly to his death from a cliff whilst tied to two large eagles. It would have been terrible.

However that film, with its witches on broomsticks and reliance on magical special effects, would have probably been far better than this extremely belated follow-up. Thirty-nine years is a long time to wait for a sequel, in which time Anthony Schaffer has died and Christopher Lee has aged beyond the point of being able to take a major starring role in a movie. Robin Hardy, director of The Wicker Man, proposed his own sequel several years ago, originally titled “The Riding of the Laddie”. Unable to find funding he wrote it into a novel, retitled “Cowboys for Christ”. In 2008 a press release announced the imminent filming of this official The Wicker Man sequel, starring Christopher Lee and Joan Collins as leaders of a sinister cult. Funding collapsed a mere two weeks before shooting began. Two years and one major casting change later (due to Sir Christopher’s ill health and advanced years), The Wicker Tree finally went into production. It has taken a further two years for the film to find distribution, which is always a worrying sign. Although Sir Christopher is somewhat frail, he does play an unidentified old man who pops in for one flashback scene to intone something about old religions. His reason for being there makes no narrative sense, and is clearly just meant as a nod to fans of the first film.

The plot follows the “Cowboys for Christ” novel fairly closely. A former US country pop star has seen the light and become converted to evangelical Christianity. Along with her reformed gambler boyfriend, she decides that the most effective way to spread the good news is to spend two years knocking on the doors of disinterested Scots. I would have thought it more likely that she would have recorded gospel albums and performed to sell out gigs. In some convoluted way that is never fully explained, the two of them end up as the guests of Sir Lachlan Morrison (a possible relation to Rowan Morrison, the missing girl from the original film?), in the distant Scottish village of Tressock. He runs his own nuclear power station, and apparently an accident ten years previously has rendered all the men in the village infertile. For this reason Morrison has encouraged the villagers to get into paganism in a big way, with the main focus being May Day, where they have a Laddie and a May Queen. He uses his vast wealth to search the world for suitably virginal candidates, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess the intended fate for his Texan guests. Why he doesn’t just spend some money on fertility treatment I don’t know. It would be much simpler.

By Todd Garbarini

If Pretty Maids All in a Row were made today exactly the same way as it was made forty years ago, there would be an enormous outcry against the film’s cavalier attitude towards mentor/student sex.  Such scenarios parodied in Roger Vadim’s 1971 film version of Francis Pollini’s novel of the same name are today the stuff of headlines as middle-aged teachers, both male and female, have been caught engaging in extracurricular activities with their young students that go far beyond anything that an educational institution would ever have in mind.  To put Pretty Maids All in a Row into proper perspective, it is necessary to understand the era in which the film was shot.  The sexual revolution was in full swing, Playboy and Penthouse magazines were enjoying unprecedented success, and Masters and Johnson were studying the sexual mores of many couples.  A film about a vice principal/guidance counselor nicknamed “Tiger” bedding underage female students didn’t seem to ruffle too many feathers. Whether one chooses to look at the film as social commentary or the satire its director intended it to be is a matter of personal choice, though given the aloof handling of the murders that ensue it is impossible to regard the film as anything other than black comedy.  Aside from this, it also doubles as a time capsule of attitudes and fashions from the early Seventies.  

Charles B. Pierce, a noted set decorator on major studio films who turned to directing low-budget but profitable movies, has died at age 71. No cause of death has been announced. As set decorator, Pierce worked on films like The Sterile Cuckoo, Pretty Maids All in a Row, Skyjacked and The Outlaw Josey Wales. He also wrote the story for the Dirty Harry film Sudden Impact. However, Pierce had his greatest success by producing and directing his own low-budget films, often marketed to rural and drive-in audiences. His 1972 horror film The Legend of Boggy Creek was a major financial success and inspired the 1999 blockbuster The Blair Witch Project. For more click here

Kudos to Kino: the video company has released a boxed set of the acclaimed AFT feature films.

By Raymond Benson

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Want to go see a Broadway or West End stage play—but at the local cinema?  No, it’s not a filmed stage production.  It’s a play translated to the film medium, but with complete faithfulness to the original play script.  Not only that, it stars big name actors and is directed by a top-notch director.  To complete the conceit, you get handed a playbill (program) when you enter the theater.  There might even be an intermission—or two!  And you have only four showtimes at which you can view the picture before it disappears, and you have to buy your ticket in advance with a subscription for a whole “season” of these filmed plays, or staged films, or whatever you want to call them.

This was the unique and exciting experiment called the American Film Theatre.

Back in 1973, producer Ely Landau launched this daring and unprecedented cinema series that played in the U.S. for two “seasons,” with a total of fourteen titles (but only thirteen were shown), all renowned works—classic and modern—originally produced on the stage.  Landau and his wife Edie were not Broadway producers, but they were Theatre People and had helped launch the “Play of the Week” series on PBS television, produced Sidney Lumet’s film version of Eugene O’Neill’s Long Day’s Journey Into Night (1962), and were keen on inventing a way to make Broadway (or the London stage) accessible to everyone in America—at their local movie theater.

There have always been stage plays adapted for film—A Streetcar Named Desire, for example, or The Miracle Worker, or Hamlet.  But plays like these were “re-imagined” for the film medium—the script was often changed or re-written with added or deleted scenes, the action was “opened up” to include locations outside of a single, claustrophobic stage set, and the roles were usually re-cast with “Hollywood actors” rather than “Broadway actors.”  Then there were also the few stage productions that were filmed as is, i.e., cameras were set up in front of an actual proscenium stage while an already-rehearsed play was performed and the cameras simply recorded the production.  Waiting for Godot (1961), for example, was done this way for television. 

The American Film Theatre concept tried something different.  The directive was to take a great stage play, not change a word, and in most cases, use the actual play script as the screenplay.  The next step was to hire an accomplished film director to interpret the text for the film medium but stay faithful to the play.  Sometimes the director was the same person who helmed the original stage production.  A further step was to persuade the original casts from the Broadway or London productions of those plays to star in the film; or, when that wasn’t possible, to cast big-name Hollywood or British actors.  Thus, the result was indeed a filmed play—but you as an audience member wouldn’t be watching it from the middle of the orchestra or from the side or from the first balcony; instead you were up close and personal in a realistically-presented world (on studio sets and/or real interior or exterior locations)—just like in “regular” movies.  You had the best seat in the house, so to speak, but there’s no proscenium arch.  It’s a movie.  But it’s a play.  Get it? 

Landau didn’t have a lot of money to produce the series.  Getting the rights to the plays was the easy part.  In most cases, if the playwright was still living, he was more than happy to take a modest fee to see his play translated faithfully to the screen.  Edward Albee, for example, had already gone through a Hollywood experience with Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?  During that production, he and producer/screenwriter Ernest Lehman often clashed over the script until Lehman finally gave in and used Albee’s original play text as the film script almost verbatim (and yet Lehman was credited for the screenplay and received an Oscar nomination for it!).  So, when Landau approached Albee about doing A Delicate Balance in the American Film Theatre with promises that the actual play would be the screenplay, and Albee would have director and cast approval, the playwright jumped at the chance.  Landau collected the rights to the plays he wanted in this manner and started from scratch with every production, except for two.  Three Sisters, from the Anton Chekhov play and directed by Laurence Olivier, had already been produced and released in Britain only in 1970.  Philadelphia, Here I Come!, from the Brian Friel play and directed by John Quested, was an Irish production set to be released in 1975.  Landau bought the U.S. distribution rights for both films and presented them as two of the entries in the AFT program.  Thus, Three Sisters and Philadelphia, Here I Come! were the only pictures in the entire two seasons that Landau and his team did not produce.

The talent (directors, actors, designers, technicians) was asked to work at a reduced rate or at scale.  No one refused.  It was for a cause they all thought was worthwhile.  Lee Marvin, for example, joked that he “lost $225,000” by starring in The Iceman Cometh (which meant he did the movie for only $25,000—his going rate at the time was $250,000). 

Grants from American Express and other organizations helped fill out the rest of the production costs.  Finally, audiences were asked to subscribe in advance to a certain number of films in a particular season.  They could buy tickets for the entire season or a lesser selection if they desired.  Only four performances per film were shown at selective theaters around the country—simultaneously—and a new film premiered every month.  Just like theatre, only in the cinema. 

Being a Theatre Person (defined as someone who has studied and worked in the theatre—I was majoring in Drama at the University of Texas at Austin in the fall of 1973 when the American Film Theatre premiered)—I found the series exhilarating.  Most people who appreciated and knew the theatre loved it.  They understood and “got” what Landau and his team were trying to do.  Unfortunately, the rest of the public met the series with a collective shrug.  Film critics complained that the films were “too much like stage plays” (duh!).  True, many of the productions were a bit claustrophobic because, like the original plays, they took place in single settings.  In only a few cases were the plays “opened up” to include scenes outdoors (such as Rhinoceros and Lost in the Stars).  What the critics didn’t understand was that the series was created to celebrate playwrights, and so the emphasis was on the plays.  With great acting.  And wonderful direction. 

Speaking of the acting, I assert that the AFT series contained some of the best performances one can see on the silver screen—ever.  It’s a shame that none of the films were eligible for Academy Award consideration (due to the limited showings and non-traditional distribution); otherwise we would have seen many of the AFT’s stars up for Oscars.  Only one of the films, The Man in the Glass Booth, was released in a regular theatrical run in 1975 after the AFT seasons were finished—and Maximilian Schell was indeed nominated for a Best Actor Oscar for his role in the picture. 

AFT’s first season consisted of eight films/plays.  Beginning in October 1973, one picture played each month through May 1974.  The second season consisted of six features (only five were actually shown) and ran in 1975. 

 

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CINEMA RETRO ISSUE #17

• Interview with James Bond and Hammer star Valerie Leon.
• Ten page tribute to the classic horror film The Haunting featuring unpublished interview with director Robert Wise and star Richard Johnson.
• Unpublished interview with David Carradine, who discusses the Kung Fu years
• Producer David V. Picker recalls the filming of the cult comedy classic Smile
• Exclusive photos from Ray Harryhausen's amazing archive of original film props
• The cult Blaxploitation/voodoo film Sugar Hill
• Storm in a D Cup celebrates the career of buxom beauty June Wilkinson.
• The Espionage Films of Alistair MacLean. 
• How the West Was Won: a road trip to visit  the present day locations seen in the Cinerama classic
• Cinema Retro reunites The Men from U.N.C.L.E. Robert Vaughn and David McCallum at the Players Club.
• The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes at Pinewood Studios

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CINEMA RETRO ISSUE #17

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