Cinema Retro has received the following press release from Warner Home Entertainment :
AMERICAN
SNIPER COMES
TO 4K ULTRA HD BLU-RAY AND DIGITAL
THE 2014
BIOGRAPHICAL WAR DRAMA DIRECTED BY CLINT EASTWOOD AND STARRING BRADLEY COOPER
WILL BE AVAILABLE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 4K RESOLUTION WITH HIGH DYNAMIC RANGE
(HDR)
Purchase
the film on 4K Ultra HD Disc with Collectible Steelbook Packaging, 4K Ultra HD
Disc and Digital on May 14
Burbank, Calif., March 26, 2024 – American Sniper,
the 2014 biographical war drama directed by Academy Award Winning Director
Clint Eastwood and starring Academy Award nominee Bradley Coopers as will be
available for purchase on 4K Ultra HD Disc and Digital for the first time on
May 14.
American Sniper will be available to
purchase on May 14 on Ultra HD Blu-ray Disc from online and in-store at major
retailers and available for purchase Digitally from Amazon Prime Video,
AppleTV, Google Play, Vudu and more.
American Sniper stars Bradley Cooper as
Chris Kyle. A two-time Oscar® nominee for his work in “Silver Linings Playbook”
and “American Hustle,” Cooper stars alongside Sienna Miller, Luke Grimes, Jake
McDorman, Cory Hardrict, Kevin Lacz, Navid Negahban and Keir O’Donnell.
Oscar®-winning filmmaker Clint Eastwood (“Million Dollar Baby,”
“Unforgiven”) directed American Sniper from a
screenplay written by Jason Hall, based on the book by Chris Kyle, with Scott
McEwen and Jim DeFelice. The autobiography was a runaway bestseller, spending
18 weeks on the New York Times bestseller list, 13 of those at number
one. The film is produced by Eastwood, Robert Lorenz, Andrew Lazar,
Bradley Cooper and Peter Morgan. Tim Moore, Jason Hall, Sheroum Kim, Steven
Mnuchin and Bruce Berman served as executive producers.
American Sniper was nominated for 6
Academy Awards including Best Picture and Best Actor and won the Academy Award
for Best Sound Editing.
American Sniperwill
be available on Ultra HD Blu-ray Disc with collectible steelbook packaging
for $40.43 ERP and includes an Ultra HD Blu-ray disc with the
theatrical version of the feature film in 4K with HDR and a Digital download of
the film, and on Ultra HD Blu-ray Disc for $33.99 ERP and includes an
Ultra HD Blu-ray disc with the theatrical version of the feature film in 4K
with HDR and a Digital download of the film. Fans can also own American
Sniper in 4K Ultra HD via purchase from select digital retailers beginning
on May 14.
About the Film
From director Clint Eastwood comes “American Sniper,”
starring Bradley Cooper as Chris Kyle, whose skills as a sniper made him a hero
on the battlefield. But there was much more to him than his skill as a
sharpshooter. Navy SEAL Chris Kyle is sent to Iraq with only one mission:
to protect his brothers-in-arms. His pinpoint accuracy saves countless lives on
the battlefield, and as stories of his courageous exploits spread, he earns the
nickname “Legend.” However, his reputation is also growing behind enemy lines,
putting a price on his head and making him a prime target of insurgents. He is
also facing a different kind of battle on the home front: striving to be a good
husband and father from halfway around the world. Despite the danger, as well
as the toll on his family at home, Chris serves through four harrowing tours of
duty in Iraq, personifying the spirit of the SEAL creed to “leave no one
behind.” But upon returning to his wife, Taya (Sienna Miller), and kids, Chris
finds that it is the war he can’t leave behind.
Warner Bros. Pictures presents, in association with Village
Roadshow Pictures, A Mad Chance Production, A 22nd & Indiana Production.
American Sniper Ultra HD Blu-ray disc contains
the following previously released special features:
·One Soldier's Story: The Journey of American Sniper
·Chris Kyle: The Man Behind the Legend?
·Clint Eastwood: A Cinematic Legacy – The Heart of a Hero
·Navy SEALs: In War and Peace
·Bringing
the War Home: The Cost of Heroism?
·The
Making of American Sniper?
·Guardian
American Sniper
Ultra HD Blu-ray Languages: English, French, Spanish
Ultra HD Blu-ray Subtitles: English French, SDH, Spanish
Lewis Gilbert's 1964 film The 7th Dawn is available on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber. Longtime readers will remember that Gilbert discussed
the movie in an exclusive interview with Matthew Field in Cinema Retro
issue #18. The movie had previously only been available in the U.S. as a burn-to-order MGM DVD. This is a thoroughly engrossing,
adult drama with an unusual setting and story background. The movie
begins on the final day of WWII and centers on three disparate friends:
an American named Ferris (William Holden), a French woman, Dhana
(Capucine) and a Malayan, Ng (Tetsuro Tamba) who have led guerilla
forces against the Japanese occupation in Malaya. The three close
friends are jubilant in victory, after having suffered from fighting in
the jungle for extended periods. At the end of the war, Ng goes off to
Moscow to pursue communist political training. The apolitical Ferris
stays behind, with Malayasia now under British occupation. He thrives as a
local rubber plantation owner, and Dhana is his lover, despite her
frustration with Ferris' womanizing. The story advances to 1953, with
Malayans now impatient for independence from England, which is easing
toward granting their demands, but at a snail's pace. Ng returns to
Malaya to try to instigate communist-inspired violent uprisings. To his
sympathizers, he is a freedom fighter. To the British, he is a terrorist
and the most wanted man in the nation.
Ferris is shaken from his cynical desire to remain removed from the
political situation when Dhana is framed and charged by the British for
assisting the terrorists. She has a choice: lead the authorities to Ng's
hideout in the jungle or be sentenced to death. Dhana, who has always
been as attracted to Ng as she has to Ferris, refuses to give him up.
Ferris is faced with the ultimate dilemma: betray his best friend by
capturing him and turning him into the British, or face the prospect of
his lover being executed. Adding to the complications is the presence of
Candace (Susannah York), the comely young daughter of the British
governor who is also in love with Ferris and who concocts a scheme that
might save Dhana, despite the fact that it places her own life in
danger.
The 7th Dawn is a superb movie on every level, although it was
not particularly successful on its initial release. Unlike most of the
simplistic, special-effects driven action films of today, this movie
deals with basic human dilemmas such as the meaning of friendships and
the price of loyalties. The four leads are outstanding and Holden, in
particular, gives one of the most impressive performances of his
career. York and Capucine give touching performances, as well, and Tamba
(who would go on to star as 'Tiger' Tanaka in Lewis Gilbert's 1967
James Bond film You Only Live Twice) is particularly impressive
as a man who is torn between political ideology and his affection for
his friends. The political drama is played out in an engrossing manner,
as one witnesses the bumbling, if sincere attempts by the British
bureaucrats to try to win the hearts and minds of the locals through
tragically misguided methods. The film builds to a harrowing conclusion
as Ferris and Candace venture into the jungle in an attempt to capture
Ng before the death sentence can be carried out against Dhana. The last
half hour of the movie is especially riveting and packed with suspense
and Gilbert's direction is truly impressive. The film benefits from the
lush landscapes photographed by Freddie Young and a beautiful musical
score by Riz Ortolani.
Put this one on your "must see" list.
The Kino Lorber Blu-ray boasts an impressive transfer, though bonus materials are relegated to a trailer gallery. It would have been a good idea to include a commentary track, but considering the Blu-ray is a big step up from the previous DVD release, we won't complain.
Railroaded, Detour,
Caught, I Wake Up Screaming, Private Hell 36. . . Raw
Deal,and so on and so on: the titles of film noir often offer harsh
tales of dismal entrapment and victimization, and it is tempting to wonder what
audiences made of these harrowing, even unpleasurable, thrillers of inevitable male
degradation. Did these sometimes nasty films put the lie to the golden glow of
films that celebrated the American dream? Or did they confirm the seeming
possibility of that dream by allowing viewers to feel superior to the doomed
characters in these films? Placed on the double bill with generally respectable
and even uplifting “A” pictures, these programmers or downright “B”-films speak
with a cynicism and despair that might perhaps have stood in complex relation
to the positive yearnings of the Hollywood dream factory. At a tight 79-minutes,
Raw Deal is the tautest of the taut – a sharp exercise in futility and
fatalism. It excels through the sharp cinematography of the great noir
cameraman John Alton: deep focus scenes composed around diagonals from way in
the back to looming objects or bodies or faces in the foreground; low angles; and
above all, what film historian Jeremy Arnold in his rich commentary for this
Bu-ray edition of Raw Deal terms “tons of darkness with little pools of
light” (sometimes, in fact, not even pools but just a gleam or glitter
furtively trying to stick out in the inky black). Raw Deal stands apart
moreover by employment of a female voice-over (deadpan, often present-tense,
bleakness from the criminal protagonist’s world-weary moll, Pat, played by
Claire Trevor), rare in films noirs of the times. Pat’s narration shows her to
be jaded yet devoted to loser anti-hero Joe (Dennis O’Keefe) who breaks out of
the pen to get money owed him by the most evil of evil gangsters (a so-menacing
Raymond Burr). But Joe falls for the innocent Ann (Marsha Hunt), his lawyer’s
assistant whom he takes hostage, and by the film’s set of final confrontations,
both action-oriented, and romantic, all bets are off as to what moral position
will win out and who indeed will survive between venality and redemption. Pushing
violence to an extreme (especially, a fire thrown into a female face, years
before the coffee-to-the-kisser shock in Fritz Lang’s The Big Heat), Raw
Deal packs a series of dramatic and emotional wallops as overpowering as
the punches in a darkened room fight that comes virtually mid-way through the
film.
In addition to the
aforementioned commentary track by Jeremy Arnold, very insightful about the
film’s employment of expressive techniques and noir visual style to convey a
narrative of inevitable entrapment, this new Classicflix Blu-ray edition of Raw
Deal includes short featurettes on the film’s making and on actor Dennis
O’Keefe that are not very deep in historical exploration but are short enough
to be consumed easily quickly as one gives greater attention to richer
materials on the Blu-ray : that commentary track (which manages to cram in lots
of facts about the stars and extras even as it tells us so much about visual –
and also musical – style) and a nice booklet by Mann scholar Max Alvarez. There’s
an image gallery which perhaps devotes a little too much time to images from
the film itself (which, after all, is what most purchasers of the Blu-ray will
attend to, rather than just stills) although it nicely includes some of the
various poster and color ads that promoted Raw Deal.
Like so many other films,
though, and especially in the case of this one, where one might wonder what the
Hays Office might have made of the movie’s severe level of violence and
corporeal threat (as in an antler on an stuffed animal that one criminal tries
to impale another’s eye on), it is easy to lament that the extras didn’t
include Production Code files or other production documents. Jeremy Arnold and
Max Alvarez do provide valuable background in their scholarly contributions,
though, and confirm just how much Raw Deal merits close study and just
how much the downbeat world of noir overall commands our emotional and
intellectual attention as an striking and critical mode of American popular
culture.
One
of the more controversial Best Picture Oscar winners is Cecil B. DeMille’s The
Greatest Show on Earth (it won the top prize for the year 1952, as well as
a trophy for Best Story—a category that was discontinued four years later). The
movie is often cited in pundits’ lists of “Worst Best Picture Oscar Winners,”
mainly because many film buffs believe that there were more deserving nominees
that year (such as High Noon or The Quiet Man, or even Singin’
in the Rain, which wasn’t even nominated!). The win for Greatest Show was
perhaps somewhat of an overdue honor for DeMille, who had been working in
Hollywood since the 1910s, was a hugely successful and popular director, and he
had never won a Best Picture Academy Award. In this case, then, why didn’t he
win Best Director (John Ford did for The Quiet Man)?
Controversy
aside, The Greatest Show on Earth is still spectacular entertainment and
worth 2-1/2 hours of a viewer’s time, especially with Paramount Present’s new
Blu-ray restoration that looks absolutely gorgeous. Steven Spielberg has often
pointed to Greatest Show as a landmark for him because he remembers it
as the first movie his parents ever took him to see, and he has placed nods to
it in some of his own features. It is grand, Hollywood epic-style spectacle,
much of which overshadows the rather melodramatic and soap opera plot going on
in the story. It must be said that the melodrama is often corny and eye-rolling
in its heightened angst. Furthermore, it’s a plot that probably couldn’t be
made in today’s social/political climate of #MeToo. But, hey, this is a movie
from 1952.
The
Ringling Brothers & Barnum & Bailey Circus was indeed known as “the
greatest show on earth” during its magnificent heyday decades of the early part
of the 20th Century to at least the 1980s, after which the circus began to have
PR problems and audience dwindling. Animal rights activists, especially, came
down hard on all circuses, and eventually the sensation became something of a
past glory of a bygone era.
When
DeMille set about making a motion picture about the circus, he made a deal with
Ringling Brothers & Barnum & Bailey Circus—then the biggest and best—to
be in the movie. Thus, there literally is a cast of thousands in the
film—all 1,400 of the circus employees appear in it, along with the select
Hollywood actors cast to play important roles. The story follows the day-to-day
running of a circus tour in an almost documentary-like fashion, complete with
DeMille himself narrating sections of the movie as we see crews assembling the
big top tent, loading/unloading equipment, performers rehearsing and dressing,
and the breakdown and travel after each stop on the road. This is surely the
best aspect of Greatest Show—it is a time capsule of what circus life
was really like in those halcyon years.
Brad
Braden (Charlton Heston, in an early screen performance) is the manager of the
traveling circus, and he is very much a “show must go on” type of guy who takes
no guff or excuses from anyone, even his on-again, off-again girlfriend,
trapeze artist Holly (Betty Hutton, who receives top billing on the film). In order
to keep the circus “in the black” and do a full tour, he is forced by the
corporate bosses to hire a big star for the center ring, and this comes in the
form of “The Great Sebastian” (Cornel Wilde), a ladies’ man and a fellow known
for trouble. Holly is hurt by being kicked out of the center ring to the first
ring, so she begins to make a play for Sebastian to make Brad jealous. In the
meantime, elephant act performer Angel (Gloria Grahame) also has eyes for Brad,
but she is the object of affection of not-so-nice elephant trainer Klaus (Lyle
Bettger). Then there is lovable Buttons the Clown (James Stewart, who is in
clown makeup through the entire movie and never reveals his clean face!), who
we learn is on the run from the law because of a mysterious crime in his past.
Added to all this are some gangsters led by “Mr. Henderson” (Lawrence Tierney)
who run crooked midway games, and one of his men plans to rob the circus of its
takings during a harrowing train holdup.
Thus,
there are love triangles and criminal shenanigans going on, but mostly the
movie is a visual documentation of the circus-going experience. We see many
acts in full, and there are numerous reaction shots of audience members (some
of whom are cameo appearances by celebrities like Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, Danny
Thomas, and more).
Perhaps
the most impressive thing is that the actors learned how to do much of their
characters’ jobs in the circus. For example, Betty Hutton and Cornel Wilde
really did learn and perform, on camera, the trapeze acts. Whether or not the terribly
difficult ones are done by Hutton and Wilde (doubtful), the Hollywood PR
machine insisted that they did all their own stunts (unlikely). Nevertheless,
that’s really Gloria Grahame being picked up by the mouth of an elephant and
carried away as she lounges happily for the audience. James Stewart performs
silly slapstick routines with none other than the great Emmett Kelly and Lou
Jacobs, two of the greatest clown performers in circus history.
Paramount
Presents’ Blu-ray disk is impressive and a treat for the eyes. Unfortunately,
the only supplement is a 7-1/2-minute featurette about the movie narrated by
Leonard Maltin, which is fine as an “intro” to viewing the picture, but one
wishes that more documentary “making-of” material could have been included.
The
Greatest Show on Earth may not have been the Greatest Best Picture Oscar Winner,
but it is still a fun and colorful spectacle that captures a now long-lost
phenomenon.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON (Released on March 30)
In
1945, Billy Wilder’s The Lost Weekend was a big deal. If it wasn’t the
first Hollywood movie to portray alcoholism as a serious problem, then it was
certainly the most visible and influential one.
In
the latter 1940s, Hollywood’s output changed from the sunshine-feel
good-entertainments that the Golden Age had produced in the 30s and early 40s.
American GIs came home from the war, and many were disillusioned and cynical.
The war was the catalyst for Americans to “grow up.†They were ready to accept
more serious, darker fare. Thus, we got film noir—crime pictures that
were full of angst and betrayals—and we got the “social problem film.†The
latter tackled subjects that Hollywood had previously never touched—alcoholism,
racism, anti-Semitism, government corruption, and drug abuse. Titles like Gentleman’s
Agreement, All the King’s Men, Pinky, and The Lost Weekend,
which kick-started the trend.
Starring
Ray Milland in a harrowing performance as Don Birnam, a hopeless drunk in
Manhattan, the picture presents a “realisticâ€â€”for the time—depiction of a
weekend bender, a binge complete with DTs and night terrors. Jane Wyman costars
as Birnam’s long-suffering girlfriend, Helen. From the get-go, she sympathizes
with Birnam and haplessly attempts to help him with his problem. Birnam’s
brother, Wick (Phillip Terry), also indulges him, although he’s at the point of
giving up.
The
movie’s gritty wake-up call was likely the reason it won the Academy Awards for
Best Picture, Best Director, Best Adapted Screenplay (by Wilder and Charles
Brackett, based on the novel by Charles R. Jackson), and Best Actor (Milland).
That
said, today The Lost Weekend has problems. Billy Wilder was one of the
great Hollywood writer-directors, and his handling of the material is fine.
Milland deserved his Oscar win, although he’s often over the top—which perhaps
underscored the horror of the film’s subject matter. The difficulty that
today’s audiences will have with the film is its naivete. For one thing, Helen must
be nuts and a glutton for punishment to stick around Birnam for over three
years. The biggest sin is the abrupt “everything’s going to be okay†ending,
which will assuredly cause one’s eyes to roll.
In
many ways, there’s not too fine a line between The Lost Weekend and some
of the better cheap exploitation films about drug abuse and teen sex that were
made outside of Hollywood and were exhibited in the manner of a sleazy
sideshow. The difference is that Weekend had a big budget, stars, and
the benefit of being backed by a major studio and was made in Hollywood. The sensationalism
and morality-play aspects, though, are the same.
Kino
Lorber’s new high definition restoration looks darned good, despite some visual
artifacts here and there. The audio commentary by film historian Joseph McBride
delves into the production history and offers interesting anecdotes. The
supplements include the complete radio adaptation starring Milland and Wyman,
plus a “Trailers from Hell†segment with Mark Pellington narrating. Theatrical
trailers for this and other Kino Lorber releases round out the package.
Make
no mistake—The Lost Weekend is an important American picture that broke
new ground. One must always judge a movie within the context of when it was
made and released. Nevertheless, 75 years has not been kind to the film.
For
fans of Billy Wilder, cinema history, and a stiff drink.
David
Lynch is one America’s national treasures as an artist. He is mostly known as a
filmmaker, of course, but he is also a painter and sculptor, a musician, and an
author. At the time of writing, Lynch is 74 years old. His filmmaking output
has slowed down considerably and these days he concentrates mostly on the fine
arts. Nevertheless, he is arguably the heir apparent to Luis Buñuel
as the foremost surrealist of our time.
And
to think… Lynch owes it all to Mel Brooks.
Okay,
maybe that’s an exaggeration. Lynch’s talent likely would have broken through
the barriers of Hollywood for him to become David Lynch in perhaps other
ways, but there is no question that Mel Brooks gave Lynch his first big break
in cinema.
Lynch
had made one feature film, Eraserhead (1977), a low-budget, bizarre,
surreal horror-comedy about fatherhood that became a darling of the “Midnight
Movie†phenomenon of the late 70s and early 80s. Then, as the story goes,
producer Jonathan Sanger got the rights to a screenplay by Christopher De Vore
and Eric Bergren about the life of John (in real life his name was Joseph)
Merrick, the so-called “elephant man.†Merrick suffered unimaginable physical
deformity from birth, lived in poverty in Victorian London, worked in “freakâ€
sideshows, and tolerated horrible abuse and exploitation. Ultimately, he was
“rescued†by Dr. Frederick Treves, who was able to get him a permanent home
inside the London Hospital until Merrick’s untimely death at the age of 27.
That’s the story in a nutshell.
Sanger
approached his friend and colleague Brooks about the script. Brooks was in the
process of forming a production company, Brooksfilms, which would make other
pictures besides his own comedies. Brooks liked the script and decided that The
Elephant Man would be the first feature from Brooksfilms. But who would
they get to direct it?
Another
mutual friend, Stuart Cornfeld, suggested to Sanger that he see Lynch’s Eraserhead.
This led to Sanger and Lynch meeting, and Lynch becoming enthusiastic about the
project simply because he liked the title. Brooks screened Eraserhead,
after which he told Lynch, “You’re a madman! You’re in!â€
Thus,
David Lynch found himself at the helm of a Hollywood picture budgeted at $5
million to be shot in England, and featuring such classic thespians as Anthony
Hopkins, John Hurt, John Gielgud, Wendy Hiller, and Anne Bancroft (Brook’s
wife)! Not bad for a man in his early thirties whose favorite expression was
“Peachy keen!â€
The
Elephant Man is
a landmark, powerful movie that is easily one of the significant pictures of
the 1980s. Despite its grim subject matter, it was a commercial and critical
success, garnering eight Academy Award nominations, including Best Picture,
Best Director, Best Actor (Hurt), and Best Adapted Screenplay. It’s a
monumental achievement, and it went a long way to show the entertainment
industry that David Lynch knew what he was doing.
The
movie is simultaneously harrowing, horrific, surreal, and beautiful. Shot in
glorious black and white, the “Lynchian†touches are ever-present, especially
in the dreamlike prelude and ending. At the time of release, fans of Eraserhead
could immediately see that the same director was in charge; for everyone
else, he was obviously a new talent to be reckoned with. While the film might
not be one of Lynch’s personal pictures as writer/director (he did co-write the
script with De Vore and Bergren), his stylistic signatures are all over it.
Additionally, the acting is superb. John Hurt, in the title role, is brilliant
and heartbreaking. Anthony Hopkins otherwise carries the film as protagonist
Dr. Treves. Anne Bancroft, as the stage actress Madge Kendal, is also winning.
Mel
Brooks did not put his name anywhere in the credits for fear that audiences
would expect The Elephant Man to be a comedy. Nevertheless, Brooks
deserves a great deal of credit for getting the picture made.
The
Criterion Collection presents a magnificent new 4K digital restoration with an
uncompressed soundtrack. The supplements are plentiful. Lynch and co-author
Kristine McKenna read (on audio) an engrossing lengthy section from their Lynch
biography, Room to Dream. (Room to Dream, by the way, is an excellent
book… it is a potent treatise on art, creativity, and life.) There are
archival interviews from various decades with Lynch, Brooks, Sanger, director
of photography Freddie Francis, makeup artist Christopher Tucker, and stills photographer
Frank Connor. Another audio recording from 1981 of a Lynch interview at the AFI
is a treat, but even better is the video interview of Lynch from 2006 conducted
by filmmaker Mike Figgis. There’s also a 2005 documentary on the life of the
real Joseph Merrick, a 2001 documentary on the making of the film, and trailers
and radio spots. The booklet contains an excerpt from the book Lynch on
Lynch and a reprint of an 1886 letter to the London Times by Francis
C. C. Gomm (played by John Gielgud in the film) about Merrick.
The
Elephant Man sees
its first official Blu-ray release in the USA with this must-have edition from
Criterion. David Lynch fans will rejoice, to be sure, but The Elephant Man is
also an accessible, moving piece of art that any lover of cinema should see.
This Ealing Studios thriller was a total
surprise to this viewer. It’s always a joy to discover a picture from
yesteryear that one hasn’t seen, and The Night My Number Came Up happens
to be a solid, riveting piece of work.
The movie is based on a real incident
experienced by British Air Marshal Sir Victor Goddard, and it was adapted to
the screen by R. C. Sheriff. Competently directed by Leslie Norman, Number is
a taut aeronautical near-disaster flick about a small Royal Air Force plane
that carries thirteen people (eight passengers and five crew) from Hong Kong to
Tokyo on a harrowing journey.
One could say that the movie has much in
common with an episode of The Twilight Zone due to a somewhat
supernatural slant. One day at Hong Kong’s Kai Tak Airport, Air Marshal Hardie
(Michael Redgrave), civilian Owen Robertson (Alexander Knox), Secretary Mary
Campbell (Sheila Sim), Officer Mackenzie (a young Denholm Elliott), and others
board a Dakota to fly to Japan. Unfortunately, weather is poor (“clouds… dark…
snow†are the recurring images and dialogue that describe the danger). The
plane gets lost and is in danger of crashing. Back at the airport, Commander
Lindsay (Michael Hordern) seems to know what has happened. He’d had a dream 48
hours before that illustrated every event leading up to the plane’s take-off,
and he believes he knows where the aircraft has gone down. It is up to him to
convince the air traffic control officers in Hong Kong to direct their search
in the right place—which is WAY off the Tokyo route. The thing is—Lindsay had
related his dream to many of the plane’s passengers the night before their
departure, so the events that occur do not feel coincidental to them.
The suspense is palpable. At no time does one
question the eye-rolling premise of the man who has dreams that pre-determine
destiny; the whole thing is played straight, and it works. All the actors are quite
good, especially Knox as the superstitious and frankly somewhat cowardly friend
of Air Marshal Hardie’s who unwittingly comes along on the flight.
Kino Lorber’s new Blu-ray restoration (from
StudioCanal) looks and sounds quite good. It comes with English subtitles for
the hearing impaired, plus an audio commentary by film historian Samm Deighan. The
trailer for this and other Kino Lorber titles are also included.
The Night My Number Came Up belongs in the genre
that would later spawn such more extreme supernatural fare as Final
Destination… and Number was made 45 years earlier! Check it out for
a fast-paced armrest clutcher.
One of the great strategic blunders of the Cold War was the Western powers' decision to not militarily challenge the building of the Berlin Wall. Under the post-WWII treaty, Berlin was divided into four sectors with each one governed by a different nation : the Soviet Union, America, England and France. The terms of the treaty called for the former Allies to have free and unfettered access to each other's section of the city. Although Berlin was located inside Communist East Germany, it remained a symbol of freedom and liberty. This was a poke in the eye to the Soviets, who were determined to resolve the situation by simply building an imposing wall that blocked off East Berlin from the other sectors controlled by Western democracies. The world was outraged but in the end, no action was taken beyond exchanging some heated telegrams and phone calls. Thus, in a matter of days, Khrushchev's gamble had paid off. He would later confess in his memoirs that even he was skeptical he would get away with it. Suddenly, the entire population of East Germany was sealed off from other parts of the city. In many cases, families were now divided and would not see relatives for decades until the Wall finally fell in 1989. The building of the Wall was a particular blow to the new American president, John F. Kennedy, who was widely seen as having mishandled the situation. With the additional bungling of the Bay of Pigs invasion in Cuba that failed to topple Castro, JFK was increasingly being seen by the Soviets as a push-over, which is probably why Kennedy was willing to risk nuclear war to prevent a third Soviet triumph by not allowing their missiles to be based in Cuba. The Berlin Wall did backfire in one sense, however. It came to symbolize the repressive nature of the Soviet regime that was being imposed even on their puppet states. No amount of propaganda could negate what people could see with their own eyes: valiant and desperate East Berliners risking their lives to find ways to get past the heavily fortified wall into the safety of West Berlin. Countless people lost their lives in the process but many others managed to escape. Occasionally, an East Berlin border guard would defect in plain sight. The Wall also provided a backdrop for countless Cold War novels and movies, most notably John Le Carre's classic "The Spy Who Came in From the Cold". Most famously, the Wall allowed another American President to win some propaganda points for the West when Ronald Reagan stood atop it and demanded, "Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!".
The first film to deal with the Berlin Wall crisis was "Escape From East Berlin" (aka "Tunnel 28"), an MGM production that was rushed into production to take advantage of a story that had made international headlines: the escape of 28 people who dug a tunnel directly underneath the Wall. The effort was led by a daring young man whose effort resulted in freedom for his family and friends. Although this clearly is an exploitation movie in one sense, we should not diminish its considerable merits. The film is tightly scripted and, considering its limited budget, highly engaging and suspenseful, thanks in no small part to the admirable direction of Robert Siodmak, who had brought to the screen two suspense classics: the original versions of "The Killers" and "The Spiral Staircase". Shot in B&W in West Berlin, the only "big budget" aspect to the production was the construction of a section of the Wall that plays such a pivotal role in the story.
Erika and Kurt pose as lovers to deceive border guards who are hunting for her.
The movie opens with a harrowing scene of a young man who tries to drive a truck through a barrier at the Wall in a desperate attempt to get to West Berlin. His effort almost succeeds but he dies in a hail of bullets. The next day, his concerned sister Erika (Christina Kaufmann) searches for him near the Wall. She assumes his quest has been successful and begins an attempt to cross over. She is stopped by Kurt (Don Murray), a young man who lives with his mother, younger brother and uncle in the shadow of the Wall itself. Kurt, who worked with Erika's brother, tries to inform her that he has been killed but he cannot bring himself to do so. She is deluded by the notion that he has escaped and is determined to join him. Meanwhile, border guards are relentlessly searching for Erika because of her attempt to get into West Berlin. She is now confined to hiding in Kurt's home indefinitely, with the family living in fear that the next house check might result in them all being arrested. Kurt's family is also routinely visited by a young mother with a baby who relentlessly tries to convince the family to attempt to escape. Her motive is understandable: when the Wall went up, she was isolated from her husband, who is in West Berlin. Reluctantly, Kurt agrees to begin an escape attempt by tunneling underneath the wall, which is only a few dozen yards from the family basement. In doing so, the family must cope with the logistical problem of finding supplies as well as storing the immense amount of dirt from the digging operation. Additionally, there is the constant presence of border guards outside their window, snooping neighbors who might inform and the unexpected arrival of another man, Brunner (Werner Klemperer) who claims to be a participant in the dig but who may have other motives. The film does manage to present how an authoritarian regime can affect even the most mundane of daily activities, as people must consider the consequences of everything they do and say.
"Escape From East Berlin" is a consistently suspenseful tale that is extremely well-acted, with Murray particularly good in the kind of role that somehow eluded Horst Bucholz, who seemed to have a lock on every part that required a handsome young German back in the day. Murray even provides a convincing accent. Christine Kaufmann is largely wasted, however, in a part that is pure window dressing. Fortunately, the screenplay doesn't saddle her character with having the anticipated romance with Kurt, although they do pose as lovers to escape the scrutiny of border guards. Even the smallest roles are expertly filled with Werner Klemperer as impressive as always as the mystery man. The film builds to a nail-biting conclusion as the plot is revealed by an informer and there is a race against time to get across the border as authorities break into Kurt's family home.
The region-free Warner Archive release boasts a fine transfer and an original trailer that is played for pure sensationalism. Highly recommended.
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Sir
Carol Reed has always been a stylish director, someone who could evoke a striking
mood with atmospheric cinematography and lighting, setting, and the perfect
compositions that placed his actors within the picturesque frames. Reed is
mostly remembered for his masterpiece, The Third Man (1949), an earlier
British noir called Odd Man Out (1947), and for his later Oscar-winning
musical, Oliver! (1968). One of his more overlooked gems is The Man
Between, another polished British noir from 1953 that obviously attempts to
capitalize on what made The Third Man and Odd Man Out memorable.
The
movie is a Cold War thriller set in early 50s Berlin, several years before the
erection of the Wall. Like The Third Man, the story deals with wavering
loyalties to the politics that govern a particular location. Here, the
East-West conflict in Berlin is beginning to broil into a seriously tense
situation. Nevertheless, Reed and his cinematographer, Desmond Dickinson,
transform the intrigue into a gorgeously rendered, haunting treatise of
melancholy that permeates the succession of expressionistic, high contrast
black and white tableaux.
A
young Claire Bloom stars as Susanne, an English tourist who has come to Berlin
to visit her brother, Martin (Geoffrey Toone). Martin is married to Bettina
(Hildegard Knef, credited as Hildegard Neff), who has a mysterious connection
with former German lawyer Ivo (James Mason, displaying a somewhat awkward
German accent, but it’s effective enough). Ivo seems to be in trouble, as a lot
of men in trench coats or uniforms are looking for him. Even though the man is
decidedly bad news, Susanne falls in love with Ivo. Without spoiling the
revelations of the story, suffice it to say that Ivo is involved in nefarious arrangements
with the East Germans, but at the same time yearns to be in the West. Unfortunately,
Susanne gets caught up in the tangled web and finds herself stuck in the
Eastern bloc; hence, a good portion of the film centers on the harrowing
attempts to get her back to the West without the authorities closing in.
While
The Man Between is beautiful to look at and well-acted, the plot is a
bit muddled—we’re not really sure what Ivo is actually doing until late in the
game, and even then it’s not very clear. There are also some believability
issues regarding Susanne’s attraction to Ivo, but I suppose since he’s a young,
handsome James Mason, it’s all good. It really doesn’t matter, for the
moodiness and the melodrama carries one through the picture with grace and a
good deal of suspense, even if we’re not entirely sure what’s going on.
Kino
Lorber’s new 1920x1080p Blu-ray is indeed an exquisite presentation—the image
is sharp and crystal clear. It comes with an audio commentary by film critic
and author Simon Abrams. The supplements are impressive. Of special interest is
the nearly 45-minute retrospective of Carol Reed’s career, featuring several
talking heads, including John Boorman, and film clips. There’s also a long, wonderful
audio interview with James Mason, who is a much funnier man than we’ve often
been led to believe. A short video interview with Claire Bloom is also
enlightening, and various trailers round off the package.
The
Man Between is
a good example of one of the more high-class, bigger-budget productions coming
out of the U.K. in the early 1950s.
Sam Spiegel was one of the most revered and accomplished producers in Hollywood history. His achievements included such classics as "On the Waterfront", "The African Queen", "The Bridge on the River Kwai" and "Lawrence of Arabia". His body of work, though not nearly as extensive as that of some other producers, was notable in the sense that Spiegel thought big and shot for the moon when it came to bringing to the screen stories that spoke to the human condition. Following the triumphant release of "Lawrence" in 1962, Spiegel did not make another film for four years. When he did, the movie - "The Chase"- turned out to be a star-packed drama that won over neither critics or audiences. Spiegel had a more ambitious idea for his next production, a screen adaptation of the best-selling WWII thriller "The Night of the Generals" by Hans Helmut Kirst. Spiegel had the inspired idea of reuniting his "Lawrence of Arabia" co-stars Peter O'Toole and Omar Sharif. They were reluctant to take on the project, but they certainly owed him. Both were virtual unknowns until Spiegel gave them the roles that made them international stars. Spiegel also added to the mix an impressive cast of esteemed British actors ranging from veterans such as Donald Pleasence and Charles Gray to up-and-coming young actors Tom Courtenay and Joanna Pettet. He chose Anatole Litvak to direct. Litvak had been making films for decades and had a few notable hits such as "Sorry, Wrong Number", "Anastasia" and "The Snake Pit". Spiegel being Spiegel ensured that the production benefited from a large budget and an appropriate running time (148 minutes) that would allow the story to unfold in a measured process.
"The Night of the Generals" is certainly a unique spin on WWII films. There are no battles or major action sequences, save for a harrowing sequence in which the German army systematically destroys part of the Warsaw Ghetto. Instead, it's very much a character study populated by characters who are, indeed, very interesting. The film opens with a tense sequence set in occupied Warsaw. The superintendent of an over-crowded apartment building accidentally overhears the brutal murder of a local prostitute in a room upstairs. From a hiding place he witnesses the killer walk past him. He does not see the man's face but recognizes his uniform: he is a general in the German army. The man keeps this information to himself on the logical assumption that divulging it might mean his death sentence. However, under questioning from the army investigator, Major Grau (Omar Sharif), he tells the shocking details of what he witnessed. From this moment, Grau becomes obsessed with finding the killer. Grau may be a German officer, but he is a pure cynic when it comes to the Nazi cause and the brutal methods being employed to win the war. He can't control the larger picture of how the war is being waged but he can control what is in his jurisdiction: bringing to justice the man who committed this one especially savage murder. Grau soon centers on three suspects. The first is General von Seiditz-Gabler (Charles Gray, channeling his future Blofeld), an effete, well-connected opportunist who is in a loveless marriage to his dominating wife Eleanore (Coral Browne). Then there is General Kahlenberg (Donald Pleasence), a man of slight build and low-key personality who has some eccentric personal habits that may include murder. Last, and most intriguing, is General Tanz (Peter O'Toole), a much-loathed and much-feared darling of Hitler's inner circle whose ruthless methods with dealing with civilian populations disgust his colleagues. Tanz has been sent to control or obliterate the Warsaw Ghetto.
The screenplay (which includes contributions by an uncredited Gore Vidal) is a bit disjointed and cuts back and forth to the present day in which we see a French police inspector, Morand (Phillippe Noiret), investigating the case twenty years later as he tries to tie together Grau's findings with dramatic developments that occurred during his handling of the case. Morand also appears in the war era sequences, having befriended Grau, who does not seem at all disturbed when he learns that Morand is actually a key figure in the French Resistance. Grau becomes particularly intrigued by General Ganz. He is an elitist snob who is devoid of any humor or compassion. A workaholic with seemingly no human weaknesses, Tanz is ostensibly under the command of his superior officer, Gabler, but it becomes clear that his political connections make him the top general in Warsaw. Major Grau interviews all three suspects and finds that any of them could be the murderer. When he becomes too intrusive, he is conveniently promoted and transferred to Paris, presumably to shut down his investigation. However, as the fortunes of war decline for the Third Reich, the top brass is eventually moved to Paris and Grau resumes his investigation when he discovers that prostitutes are being brutally murdered there as well. There is a parallel story that accompanies that of the murder investigation. It centers on Corporal Hartmann (Tom Courtenay), a young soldier who has been reluctantly acclaimed to be a national hero. It seems he was the last surviving member of his unit after a bloody battle. The brass used him as a propaganda tool, bestowing medals on him for heroic actions. In fact, he is a self-proclaimed coward whose only goal is to stay alive through the war. Hartmann confesses this to his superior, General Kahlenberg, who is amused by his honesty. He assigns him to be General Tanz's personal valet and orders him to show Tanz the history and sights of Paris. Neither he nor Tanz wants to partake in the venture, but Gabler orders Tanz to take a few days vacation, largely because he despises the man's presence. The scenes in which Hartmann tries to appease the mercurial Tanz without making any missteps are fraught with tension and suspense. Tanz is a fascinating character, presumably devoid of the vices most men have. However, in the course of their time together, Hartmann realizes that Tanz is somewhat of a fraud. He surreptitiously drinks to excess and changes into civilian clothes in order to meet with prostitutes in seedy bars. Although Tanz chews out Hartmann for every minor infraction, he seems to come to respect the younger man's professionalism. This sets in motion another complex plot development that also involves Hartmann's secret romance with General Gabler's free-spirited daughter Ulrike (Joanna Pettet).
Just trying to summarize the various plot strands of "The Night of the Generals" in this space is fairly exhausting. Oh, did I mention that another subplot involves Field Marshal Rommel (a cameo by Christopher Plummer) and the July, 1944 plot on the part of rebellious German officers to assassinate Adolf Hitler? Nevertheless, although the various story lines become quite complex, they are all tied together eventually in clever and compelling ways. The film is part "Whodunnit", part political statement and part war movie. The movie moves back to the present for its intense conclusion as Inspector Morand is finally able to solve the crime and attempt to bring the culprit to justice. When the killer is revealed it's about as shocking of a development as the revelation that the butler did it in one of those old British film noir mysteries. Still, director Litvak (who shares the producer credit with Sam Spiegel because he owned the screen rights to the novel) keeps the action flowing briskly running time and elicits outstanding performances from his cast. O'Toole, who would later capitalize on playing larger-than-life characters, was at this point in his career still very immersed in portraying introspective, quiet men. He is quite mesmerizing as General Tanz and quite terrifying as well. Sharif is, at least on the surface, badly cast. I'm not aware of any Egyptians who became prominent German officers. Sharif has the map of the Middle East on his face and lingering remnants of his native accent. It's to his credit that he overcomes these obstacles and gives a very fine performance as the charismatic investigator who doggedly pursues his suspects with Javert-like conviction. All of the other performances are equally outstanding, with Courtenay especially impressive- and one has to wonder why the very talented Joanna Pettet never became a bigger star. The international flavor of the cast gives the film a Tower of Babel-like effect. Some of the actors attempt to affect a quasi-German accent while others speak with British accents, and then we have the French and Poland-based sequences with even more diversity of languages. Still, if you could accept Richard Burton and Clint Eastwood speaking "German" in their native tongues in "Where Eagles Dare", you won't find this aspect of "The Night of the Generals" to be particularly distracting. I should also mention the impressive contributions of composer Maurice Jarre, cinematographer Henri Decae and main titles designer Robert Brownjohn (remember when films even had opening titles?) In summary, the film-which not successful with critics or the public- is a thoroughly intriguing experience and affords us the joy of watching some of the best actors of the period sharing the screen.
"The Night of the Generals" has been released as a limited edition (3,000 units) Blu-ray from Twilight Time. The transfer is gorgeous, giving full impact to the impressive cinematography and lush production design. There is also an isolated score track, the original trailer and an informative booklet by film historian Julie Kirgo, who examines Sam Spiegel's attempts to rebuild his career in subsequent years only to find that he was out of place in the new Hollywood.
The
Criterion Collection has upgraded its 2006 DVD release of Ingmar Bergman’s
classic Oscar-winning drama, The Virgin Spring, to Blu-ray, and the results are,
naturally, spectacular.
The
film won Bergman his first of three Best Foreign Language Film Academy Awards,
and it can certainly be ranked among the Swedish filmmaker’s best works. Known
as a “rape and revenge tale,†the picture was so influential that it was the
inspiration for Wes Craven’s first horror-exploitation movie from 1972, The
Last House on the Left. Craven took the basic plotline, updated it, and turned
it into a gory (and some would say, sickening) fright fest.
Bergman’s
film is easier to take, but one can imagine how harrowing it might have been in
1960. As a departure for the auteur, Bergman did not write the screenplay himself.
The script was adapted by Ulla Isaksson from a Swedish medieval ballad/legend
called “Töres döttrar I Wänge†(“Töre’s daughters in Vängeâ€). Like The Seventh
Seal before it, the story is set during the Dark Ages. It’s the only other
instance in which Bergman accurately and convincingly depicts this historical
period on film. This time, his visual collaborator is the great cinematographer
Sven Nykvist, who presents the stark, sharp black and white imagery with
crystal clarity.
The
story concerns Christian Töre (Max von Sydow) and his family—his wife, Märeta
(Birgitta Välberg), his teenage daughter Karin (Birgitta Pettersson), the
disturbed, unwed and pregnant servant Ingeri (Gunnel Lindblom), and other
household helpers. One morning, the virginal, innocent, and naïve Karin sets
off on horseback, accompanied by Ingeri, to deliver candles to a church some
miles away. After a frightening, chance encounter with a one-eyed man, Ingeri
separates from Karin, who soldiers on with the candles. She comes upon a motely
trio of creepy herdsmen—all brothers—with whom she offers to share her lunch.
The older two assault Karin, rape, and murder her. The younger brother, who
appears to be around twelve, watches in horror. Ingeri, hidden in the forest,
also witnesses the crime.
Later,
the herdsmen encounter Christian and his family, who are naturally worried
about Karin because she didn’t return home. To reveal what happens next would of
course be a spoiler—just know that Christian must make a hard decision and
summon a strength from within that he didn’t know he had.
It’s
all powerful stuff, and Bergman handles it with harsh realism and surprising
sensitivity. The assault scene is brief, breathtakingly shocking, and surely
something that jolted audiences at the time. Pettersson delivers a particularly
courageous performance, and the actress’ work is the heart of the movie. The
rest of the cast, especially von Sydow, Lindblom, and Välberg, are also
excellent.
Particularly
interesting is that the film can be interpreted as either a deeply religious or
an anti-religious one. Christianity is often a subject matter in Bergman’s oeuvre,
and his disdain for organized religion is usually palpable. In this case,
however, when the titular “virgin spring†appears in the picture, it just might
represent an acknowledgment of a higher power. It’s up to the viewer to decide.
Once
again, the filmmaker recreates on what was surely a very low budget a medieval
world that is totally believable. The attention to detail is striking—P. A.
Lundgren’s production design and Marik Vos’ costume designs bring The Virgin
Spring to life (the latter was nominated for an Academy Award).
Criterion’s
new 2K digital restoration looks gorgeous and is an improvement over the
earlier DVD release. It comes with an uncompressed monaural soundtrack and an
audio commentary from 2005 by Bergman scholar Birgitta Steene. The 2006
supplements are ported over: 2005 interviews with actors Lindblom and
Pettersson, a terrific introduction by director Ang Lee (who claims it was the
first art film he ever saw), and an interesting audio recording of a 1975
American Film Institute seminar by Bergman—in English! There is an alternate
English-dubbed soundtrack, but for my money Bergman films should always be
viewed in the original language. The booklet sports an essay by film scholar
Peter Cowie, reflections on the film by screenwriter Isaksson, and the text of
the original ballad upon which the picture is based.
Among
the many masterpieces that Ingmar Bergman made, The Virgin Spring is a shining
gem. Don’t miss it.
In 1973, director William Friedkin adapted William Peter Blatty's bestselling novel "The Exorcist" for the screen. The film shocked the industry by becoming an international phenomenon and the movie's impact continues to resonate with audiences of all ages even today. In 2016 Friedkin decided to return to the subject of demonic possession by personally filming the rite of exorcism performed by a priest, Father Amorth, the Chief Exorcist of the Diocese of Rome. The result is his new documentary "The Devil and Father Amorth", which has enjoyed some limited art house screenings while simultaneously being released on DVD. Before we go any further, it is appropriate when covering a film of this type for the reviewer to state his/her personal beliefs or lack thereof in terms of the subject matter. After all, Friedkin does the same in his film, stating that he is predisposed to believe in the possibility of demonic possession. I'm not. Friedkin is clearly a man of religious faith. I'm not, having happily lived most of my life as an agnostic who keeps an open mind but who has never seen an inkling of evidence that a higher being presides over the universe. So there we are....with one additional caveat. Although I have never met William Friedkin, I have conducted two separate, extensive interviews with him for Cinema Retro regarding his films "Cruising" and "Sorcerer", both of which I believe were very underrated. Based on those interviews, I can say that I like Friedkin and greatly respect him as a filmmaker.
With those explanatory remarks out of the way, let's delve into "The Devil and Father Amorth". Friedkiin acts as an on camera host of the movie, which opens with some brief archival interviews with William Peter Blatty, who relates that he was a student at Georgetown University in 1949 when he read a remarkable account in the Washington Post about a 14 year-old boy who had undergone the rite of exorcism. Other respected news outlets picked up on the story and it became a sensation. Blatty was fascinated by the alleged possession and hoped to write a non-fiction account of the incident. However, the priest who performed the exorcism refused to release the identity of the boy or his family and imposed upon him to respect their privacy. Blatty went the fictional route and turned the victim into a 12 year-old girl. The rest, as they say, is history- except that over the decades, the incident has been studied by skeptics who point out that there is scant evidence that the exorcism involved anything other than a boy who had a vivid imagination and that he may well have simply staged the incidents for those predisposed to believe in possession. (The boy's late aunt was a "spiritualist" who had influenced the boy's interest in the supernatural.) Whatever one thinks of the historical facts and theories, Blatty's book was a chilling page-turner and Friedkin's film version would motivate even the most headstrong skeptic to sleep with a nightlight on. Friedkin's documentary has some early scenes of him returning to actual locations from "The Exorcist". The action then shifts to Rome, where he introduces us to Father Amorth, then 91 years-old and proud of his position as Chief Exorcist, claiming to have performed the ritual thousands of times. Friedkin also interviews a woman who underwent the rite and who claims to have been saved by Father Amorth. Her brother, who went on to become Father Amorth's assistant, relates disturbing and fantastic accounts of his sister's alleged possession. Father Amorth gave Friedkin rare permission to film an actual exorcism on the provision that there would be no artificial lighting employed or any crew members present. Friedkin agreed to shoot the rite himself using just a small, hand-held camera.
The subject of the exorcism is Christina, a 46 year-old architect who has been bedeviled by what she claims are frequent instances in which she becomes possessed by a demon. She claims not to remember the occurrences but those who surround her relate that, when possessed, she speaks in strange languages, exhibits Herculean strength and shouts threats in a voice that is not her own. We learn that the exorcism Father Amorth is to perform will be the ninth time he has conducted the rite in relation to Christina. When we finally do get to observe what Friedkin is filming it certainly is disturbing. Christina is restrained by two men as she wriggles and resists their grip, all the while shouting insults at the priest in an unfamiliar voice. Unlike the famous scenes of the ritual depicted in "The Exorcist", the real-life exorcism is performed in front of a room full of people, presumably friends and relatives of the victim. We watch as Father Amorth doggedly remains fixated on reciting the religious phrases that are supposed to expel the demons. (At one point, the "possessed" Christina identifies herself as Satan.) The Friedkin footage seems relatively brief and he doesn't provide any context as to how much footage may have been edited out of the final cut. While the episode we witness is certainly "harrowing" (as Friedkin describes it) and the affected Christina is clearly suffering from severe disorder, there is nothing in the footage that is likely to convince skeptics that they have just seen proof of a supernatural event. There are no signs of superhuman strength and the admittedly frightening voice Christina speak in could clearly be her own, since every person on earth is able to significantly alter their manner of speaking. Furthermore, there is no context provided regarding whether Christina ever sought professional psychiatric help. Friedkin asks her if she did, but her answer is vague. She simply says that doctors can't cure her, leaving it ambiguous as to whether she ever underwent a psychiatric diagnosis. This is a pivotal point that is not pursued. If she did seek medical help, it would be imperative to interview her doctors. If she did not, then her affliction is one that is self-diagnosed. Friedkin interviews prestigious doctors in America to get their views of the case, having shown them the footage. They all give the answer that people of science would be expected to give: we can't explain it without having examined the patient. They profess to keep an open mind but none will go on record as endorsing the premise that demonic possession could really be behind the victim's affliction. At the end of the film, Friedkin himself stops short of stating for certain that he believes he has witnessed a supernatural event, but the implication is that he clearly thinks he has.
Fritz Lang first made his mark in Germany during the short-lived Wiemar Republic in between the two world wars. Lang had immigrated from his native Austria to Berlin, where he made quite an impression during the silent era, directing such landmark masterpieces as "M" and "Metropolis". However, the rise of National Socialism repulsed him. He spawned an offer to make propaganda films for the Nazis and discreetly left the country before the worst aspects of Hitler's regime became reality. In Hollywood, Lang found he was welcomed by studios and was consistently employed on films for the major studios. However, Lang was working under constraints that early German cinema did not have, namely, the dreaded Hays Code, under which Hollywood engaged in self-censorship in order to prevent government oversight of film content. Consequently, many of the films directed by Lang in Hollywood were largely routine, run-of-the-mill productions although occasionally, he oversaw a true gem that reminded viewers of his genius. One of Lang's last American films before he returned to Germany was "While the City Sleeps", a tightly-wound 1956 urban thriller that was one of the first major productions to deal overtly with a serial killer.
The story opens on a harrowing note with a pre-credits scene in which an attractive young woman has her apartment entered by a delivery man who had previously stopped at her apartment. In short order, he subjects her to a horrific death. The murder quickly becomes big news and Amos Kyne (Robert Warwick), the elderly owner of The Sentinel, the city's most influential newspaper, barks orders that the search for the murder has to be played to the hilt in order to increase circulation. However, Kyne soon passes away, leaving control of The Sentinel to his son, Walter (Vincent Price), an inept elitist with a penchant for high living. Walter is well-aware that he is ill-equipped to run a major media organization that also includes a television network. He quickly alienates his most seasoned staffers and devises a Trumpian strategy of dangling a promotion in front of his three top reporters, thus causing the colleagues to turn on each other amid a chaotic environment of backstabbing. Walter has informed the competing journalists that the first man to solve the murder will get the job, then sits back and cruelly enjoys his manipulation of them. The staffers are old hands at getting big stories. Mark Loving (George Sanders) is a snooty newsroom editor who is romancing Mildred Donner (Ida Lupino), the office vamp and resident gossip columnist. Jon Day Griffith (Thomas Mitchell) is a cigar-chomping old time veteran reporter who quickly compromises his pride in the hopes of nailing down the promotion. James Craig is Harry Kritzer, an oily top reporter who is secretly romancing Walter's wife Dorothy (Rhonda Fleming), who enjoys making her husband an unknowing cuckold while at the same time manipulating Harry by threatening to withdraw her sexual favors. The central character in the story, however, is Edward Mobley (Dana Andrews), The Sentinel's top reporter and their celebrity on-air news anchor. Mobley, a chain-smoking cynic, wants no part of Walter's cruel ploy to win a promotion through sacrificing professional integrity. Edward, too, is involved in the hotbed of interoffice romances, and becomes engaged to Loving's secretary Sally (Nancy Liggett).
The interesting script for "While the City Sleeps" meanders but in a positive way. These are all fascinating enough characters to make the sordid aspects of the serial killer plot take second place. Mobley is an especially interesting character and far from the knight in shining armor found in many films of this era. He smokes and drinks too much and even alienates Nancy by almost succumbing to the sexual advances of Mildred. He loathes working for Walter but is too comfortable in his job and celebrity status to leave. Working with some inside tips from a friendly police detective (Howard Duff), Mobley comes up with a strategy for luring the killer into the open by using Nancy as bait. This kicks the murder plot into overdrive in the final section of the film and adds considerable suspense to the proceedings.
The Warner Archive has released the 1970 counter-culture drama The Strawberry Statement. The film was released in an era of increasing unrest, sandwiched between the 1968 Chicago riots at the Democratic convention, the assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr and Robert F. Kennedy and the shooting of student protesters at Kent State University (which, in a nightmarish example of unintended "good timing" occurred one month after the release of this film.) Although the movie was honored at the Cannes Film Festival, the general consensus was that, like Antonioni's more notorious failure Zabriskie Point, the film was an unfocused and unsuccessful attempt to play upon the unrest among young Americans during this era. Looking at the movie today, that criticism still holds up. The story centers on Simon (Bruce Davison), an apolitical student at a San Francisco university (it was actually filmed at Berkeley) who gradually becomes interested in the protest movement. Students are on strike and are occupying the dean's office (a not uncommon practice of the day) to protest the closing of a community playground for inner city children. The university, which owns the property, intends to put in an ROTC office temporarily, and then lease the land to big business. The students have succeeded in virtually closing down the university and Simon becomes more enamored with their cause. Before long he is occupying the dean's office, too, and begins a romantic relationship with a more radical protester, Linda (Kim Darby). The film meanders between their encounters, life on campus and anti-Establishment rallies. However, a clear depiction of the characters or their motivations is never provided. Simon is charismatic, but rather hollow. Linda is never presented in anything but a superficial manner. We know nothing of her background or motivations. There are no other major characters, though reliable supporting actors like Bud Cort, James Coco and Bob Balaban contribute positively.
The film's director, Stuart Hagmann, had a brief and rather undistinguished career, primarily highlighted by this MGM production. He relies on fast cuts, inventive camera angles and a score filled with rock and folk music provided by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, Buffy Sainte-Marie and Thunderclap Newman to compensate for the weak screenplay that had been based on a recently-published novel. The script by Israel Horovitz does provide some nuance in assessing protest movements. This was filmed during an era in which the military was draft was going full force, even as the Vietnam War was becoming increasingly unpopular. Adding insult to injury, the young people who fought that war weren't allowed to vote at the time because the voting age was 21. (Even today, with a voting age of 18, soldiers who are deemed old enough to drive tanks into combat can't legally enjoy a beer.) Consequently, presidential candidates who had run on a Vietnam withdrawal policy in 1968 (Senators Eugene McCarthy and Bobby Kennedy), had enormous support from a base that could not vote for them. The war that had been started by Democrats and escalated by the newly-elected Republican President, Richard Nixon, seemed to be a quagmire that would go on forever. (Curiously, our Afghanistan quagmire was started by a Republican president and escalated by a Democratic president, so not much has changed in terms of the political Establishment.) Where The Strawberry Statement succeeds is in its depiction of the various motives those who comprise a protest movement might have. Some are true believers, some are idealists, some are just weak-willed followers, and others just want to get laid in the name of upholding democracy. Radical protesters complain about a lack of freedom and rights, even as they ironically decorate their dorm rooms with posters of Che Guevara, a man who sacrificed his life in an attempt to tear down dictatorships even as he courted the totalitarian state of Fidel Castro. There are rather pretentious uses of film clips of key political figures of the day including H. Rap Brown and President Nixon, who is seen serenading White House guests while playing Home on the Range on the piano. There must be significance to this somewhere, but it comes across as bizarre. The film does show how even the most sincere political protest movements, from the Tea Party on the right and the Occupy movement on the left, inevitably become defined by the crazy fringe element that often negates the validity of their message. (In this film, protesters assail police officers, using their "Peace Now" signs as instruments of destruction.) The film succeeds in capturing the craziness of the era in the final, harrowing sequence in which an army of policeman brutally assail students at a sit-in, who are peacefully signing "Give Peace a Chance." Here, director Hagmann finds his stride and provides a truly mesmerizing sequence. However, despite the fine performances of the cast, the film falls short of its overall potential.
A LOOK AT 2017 FILMS NOMINATED FOR PROMINENT OSCARS
BY LEE PFEIFFER
There was great trepidation in the film industry about whether director Christopher Nolan's "Dunkirk" would be able to attract large enough audiences to recoup its considerable production costs. After all, most movie-goers are young people and the most popular kinds of features are superhero epics and gross-out comedies, not historical epics. To the surprise of many, "Dunkirk" did indeed prove to be a major hit, grossing over $500 million worldwide.This proves that the intelligence and taste of younger movie-goers should not be underestimated and also that Nolan himself enjoys the kind of loyal following that few directors can brag about. His name on a film will draw audiences that might be immune from a certain movies if not for his involvement. "Dunkirk" has also won critical acclaim and is nominated for numerous Oscars including Best Picture and Best Director. It's to Nolan's credit that he sought to bring this story to the screen during an era in which the average person is probably unacquainted with its historical significance, at least outside of Europe. That may be a sad reflection on society but it's all the more reason why Nolan should be commended for bringing the heroic saga to the spotlight.
"Dunkirk" relates the ominous period of time early in WWII when the British sent the bulk of its army as an expeditionary force into France to help stem the German invasion. At the time it was assumed that France had the strongest army in Europe. The recently -constructed heavily fortified Maginot Line was designed to be an impenetrable barrier to the German forces. Hitler decided to outflank the Allies by invading France through the back door in Belgium, plowing his tanks through the seemingly impassable Ardennes Forest, thus completely bypassing the Maginot Line and rendering its heavy artillery useless. The result was a rout for the Alllies and the bulk of the British army, along with French units, found itself trapped on the beaches of Dunkirk. German forces could have moved in for the kill but made a major mistake by giving their exhausted units some down time, feeling that the Allies had no way to escape. Churchill issued an edict that called up any available vessel to make a desperate journey across the Channel under heavy fire and air attacks to rescue as many soldiers as possible. These gallant civilians pulled off the impossible by doing just that and rescuing the bulk of the 300,000 British troops on the beaches. French troops also made it out and joined the Free French units stationed in England under the command of DeGaulle. All of this makes for a highly compelling story but only fragments of it end up in Nolan's often admirable film. He provides virtually no historic context to the action seen on screen, which covers the battle from the viewpoint of individual soldiers as well as a small boat captained by an every day middle-aged Brit (Mark Rylance, in excellent form), his teenage son and his good friend. Aside from an opening series of captions informing the audience of the bare bones facts, no other overview of the dramatic occurrences is provided.
The film presents the battle scenes in spectacular and intense detail. You can feel the fear and confusion among the stranded troops and individual soldiers who attempt to use any means necessary to hitch a ride on the few overcrowded British Navy vessels that were available prior to the arrival of the civilian "fleet". The scenes inside the cockpit of the British Spitfire, one of only a few available in the battle to combat the constant German air attacks, are especially riveting. When a pilot has to ditch his plane in the ocean, he finds his cockpit is jammed and he may well drown. It's this type of harrowing scene that allows Nolan to ratchet up the suspense. However, it's Nolan the scriptwriter who undercuts the production on numerous occasions by failing to provide any emotional core to the film, with the exception of the scenes involving Rylance, which are genuinely moving. The rest of the characters are just relatively anonymous combatants of which we know nothing about personally. We can relate to their dilemma but unlike the similarly-themed "The Longest Day", we have little emotional resonance in them beyond the fact that we simply want them to survive. Nolan also fails to capitalize on the arrival of the civilian fleet, one of the most inspiring moments in military history, as it not only spared 300,000 lives, but also saved England- and thus the world- by allowing its fighting men to be able to resist Hitler's aggression. Nolan provides only a few fleeting shots of numerous boats approaching the Dunkirk beaches but the type of soaring emotional moment you might expect is rather watered-down.
There's much to admire in "Dunkirk". It's a big, ambitious war movie the likes of which we rarely see today. The aerial combat scenes are extraordinarily exciting and frightening. The cinematography by Hoyte Van Hoytema is outstanding and Hans Zimmer provides a thundering, impressive score. More importantly, it attempts to commemorate a battle in which the British people turned a massive defeat into a tremendous victory. It's good filmmaking, but it never soars as high as you might expect and want it to.
One of my favorite films from childhood was RKO’s Academy
Award winning production of The Devil and
Daniel Webster (1941), which featured Walter Huston as the titular demon. If the fresh air setting of The Devil and Daniel Webster was
filtered almost completely through a prism of Americana, F.W. Murnau’s silent
epic Faust: a German Folktale (1926) is
most certainly its grim progenitor, one mirroring the darkest impulses of pre-War
Weimar Republic Germany. Working closely
from the storyboard charcoal sketches and ink and pencil concept drawings of his
imaginative expressionistic set designers Robert Herlth and Walter Röhrig, his
production of Faust Murnau would effectively
create a visually sodden and nightmarish world.
The film begins with a brilliantly choreographed
celestial argument between a gleaming, white-winged Archangel and a series of
Devils (the “Three Scourges of Hellâ€). The former champions the notion that man is essentially righteous and of
good will. The Devil’s cynically counter
– sadly, perhaps more realistically - that “No man can resist evil.†Choosing to test their argument, the Devil’s
wager they can tempt and transform a good man such as the humble, learned Faust
into a selfish, self-interested individual, motivated only by his personal
pleasures.
Faust (played by Swede Gösta Ekman) is a doctor and a
well-intentioned man of science, frail, elderly, and long-bearded. He is spending his golden years in a humble
garret, warmed by a hearth and surrounded by the piles of books accumulated over
a lifetime. These books, essentially,
signify the collective knowledge of man. Though he is also a dabbling alchemist, there’s no notion he’s
interested in the accumulation of gold in pursuit of riches and comfort. He’s more interested in the exacting exercise
of scientific formula.
The Universal Vault series has released the 1970 film "Sometimes a Great Notion" on DVD. Based on the novel by Ken Kesey, the film starred- and was directed by- Paul Newman. His skills as both actor and filmmaker are amply displayed in this engrossing, off-beat drama that never found its intended audience during its theatrical release, despite a heavyweight cast. The film is basically a domestic drama, though set amid the staggering beauty of the Oregon wilderness. The Stamper family runs one of the biggest logging operations around. The family's crusty patriarch, Henry (Henry Fonda), attributes the family's success to the fact that they lead a hard scrabble lifestyle and do much of the grueling work themselves rather than simply farming it out to paid employees. Henry ensures that he keeps the keys to his kingdom close to his vest: the only positions of power are held by him and his two sons, Hank (Paul Newman) and Joe Ben (Richard Jaeckel). Henry espouses his philosophy of life, which is that there isn't much purpose to existence other than hard work, eatin', drinkin' and screwin' (though perhaps not necessarily in that order). When we first meet the Stamper clan they are embroiled in a dispute with a union that represents loggers. The union has called for a strike and it appears that the workers have been dormant for quite some time. The Stampers refuse to accede to union demands that they stop their logging operations in order to show solidarity with the workers. Henry will have no part of it. He and his sons insult union representatives that come to reason with them and, in fact, physically terrorize one of them. Henry and his sons have no use for unions and adhere to the pioneer lifestyle in that every man has to fend for himself. A byproduct of this philosophy is that the Stampers are riding high as the only operating logging operation in the area. Consequently, the family gets all the business that the striking workers would ordinarily enjoy. However, the Stamper's luck is about to run out. Union members secretly begin to sabotage their operation and on one especially painful day, the family endures several tragedies of Shakespearean proportions.
Although top-billed and coming off the success of "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid", Newman doesn't hog the spotlight. As director, he's quite generous in ensuring that his co-stars get ample quality scenes. The film evokes a very believable atmosphere in terms of exploring the type of no-nonsense, working-class people who populate rural areas. At first glance the Stampers are a content clan but there are cracks in the facade. Hank's wife Viv (Lee Remick) is fed up with the misogynistic lifestyle she is trapped in. Among the Stampers, the women folk are meant to be seen but not heard. She was bored as a teenager growing up in a one-horse town until young Hank drove through on his motorcycle and literally swept her off her feet. Her dreams of an exciting life were quickly dashed and she now finds herself cooking and cleaning for a family of men who barely acknowledge her presence. Even romantic overtures to Hank go unrewarded and Viv is fed up with his inability- or unwillingness- to challenge his father's Draconian ways of managing the family and the business. Hank's younger brother Joe Ben is a happy-go-lucky, humorous fellow whose own wife Jan (Linda Lawson) shares his Born Again Christian beliefs and is quite content raising their kids and living a traditional lifestyle for women in this place and era. Dramatic tensions rise when Henry's estranged son Leeland (Michael Sarrazin) (Hank and Joe Ben's step brother) arrives out of the blue after being away for years. He's a troubled drifter with no particular goal or purpose in life. Henry welcomes him back but advises him that if he wants to stay, he'll have to learn how to work as a lumberman. There is also tension between Leeland and Hank because Hank once slept with Leeland's mother (!)
As director, Newman excels at capitalizing on Richard Moore's magnificent cinematography and making the lumber business seem quite interesting. The scenes of tumbling timber are thrilling and suspenseful and makes the viewer aware of just how dangerous this profession is, with the possibility of injury and death always only seconds away. In the film's most harrowing and best-remembered scene, Joe Ben is trapped under a log in a rapidly-rising river as Hank desperately tries to rescue him. Jaeckel is terrific here in a role that earned him a Best Supporting Actor Oscar nomination. The scene is difficult to watch but Jaeckel and Newman have never been better. (At the time of the film's release, critic Rex Reed complained that some of Jaeckel's best work in the film never made it into the final cut.) Screenwriter John Gay deftly sidesteps some anticipated cliches and every time you think you know where the story is going, it ends up in another direction. There is irony in Newman directing and starring in a film in which the protagonists are right wing and anti-union, as Newman himself was a career union man whose left wing activism earned him a place on President Nixon's notorious "Enemies List". (Newman claimed it was one of the great honors of his life.) There are some weaknesses: we never get any background on the merits of the case made by the striking loggers so we have no frame of reference as to whether we should sympathize with them or the Stampers. Also, some of the supporting roles are underwritten, especially Lee Remick's. Aside from one good scene in which she divulges her frustrations to Sarrazin, there's not much for her to do. The movie builds to its tragic climax although Newman does make sure there is a triumphant moment in the last scene, even if its represented in a rather gruesome fashion. It's a pity that Newman chose to direct only a few films. He was as impressive behind the camera as he was in front of it. The film also benefits from a fine score by Henry Mancini and the opening song, "All His Children" (sung by Charley Pride) was nominated for an Oscar. When the film failed to click at the boxoffice it was re-marketed under the title "Never Give an Inch"- although that strategy failed to work. Hopefully it will finally find a more receptive audience on home video.
The DVD transfer is superb but once again, Universal provides a bare bones release with nary a single bonus extra.
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Tony
Garnett is one of the most respected and celebrated British filmmakers of his
generation having worked extensively in British television and through his work
with critically acclaimed filmmakers such as Ken Loach, whom the pair worked
together on the seminal British dramas Kes (1969) and Cathy Come Home (1966),
both of which Garnett produced. Opting to move away from producing, Garnett set
his sights on writing and directing his own feature films. After directing the
critically acclaimed drama Prostitute (1980), Garnett went on to the write and
direct the film Handgun (1983), a powerful cult rape and revenge thriller.
Eschewing the exploitation motifs as explored in the genre titles such as Death
Wish (1974), Abel Ferrara’s Ms. 45 (1981) and I Spit on Your Grave (1978), favouring
an art-house aesthetic and employing a docudrama stylistic approach, Garnett’s
film is a measured exploration of the nature of injustice and retribution while
a searing indictment of American gun culture and rape.
Set
in Dallas, when young high school teacher Kathleen spurns the advances of
arrogant lawyer Larry, he coerces her to his apartment where he rapes her at
gunpoint, raping her a second time for good measure. Violated not only by
Larry, Kathleen is further violated by the authorities who do little to bring
the sexual predator Larry to justice. Enraged, Kathleen eradicates any form of
femininity by cropping her hair and donning army fatigues, while undergoing
firearm training, before taking the law into her own hands by luring Larry out
in the dead of night to administer her own brand of rough justice (it should be
noted that the ending will leave viewers divided, especially those expecting a
more violent denouement to the film). In this feminist vigilant film, Kathleen
is forced into this path when all around her fail her, while Larry is painted
as a bigoted, misogynistic, and racist bully, who believes his wealth and power
entitles him to anything, and this power can be derived through violence. This
is expertly shown prior to the harrowing rape scene when Garnett cuts to a
scene of Larry indulging in the high life with his equally grotesque pals,
before attending a “Foxy Boxing†match, where the all-female fighters fight
bra-less in an arena while the scummy patrons holler from the side lines and
try to grope the fighters as they walk by. It is an important point in the film
because it comes just prior to the rape sequence as Garnett is critiquing male
machismo and a sexist view of women. In a sense, with the bra-less boxers fighting
in the ring, we see that in Larry’s world sexualized violence is acceptable. In
this sequence Garnett attempts to show how this attitude and perception of women
leads him to violate Kathleen. The rape scene that follows is harrowing, yet
not overtly explicit. While the rape is shocking, especially as we see Kathleen
forced to strip at gunpoint, before being sexually violated, the most sickening
part is the attitude of Larry post-rape, where he administers blame on her for
being frigid. He sees nothing wrong in his actions, which makes it even more
satisfying when the pent up fury of Kathleen explodes as she goes hunting her
prey at the gun club where she has honed her sharpshooting skills.
Those
expecting a film seeped in violence will be disappointed. This is a slow,
methodical and intelligent film shot in long, natural takes that make it seem
like a documentary at times, with standout performances by Karen Young as
Kathleen and Clayton Day as Larry. In October 2016, I was fortunate to interview
Garnett about his memories working on the film [note: spoilers alert].
Matthew
Edwards:Your cult thriller Handgun is one of the more intelligent films that
emerged in the 70s/80s in the rape and revenge genre. Where did the inspiration
come from to make the film? Were you trying to bring attention to the
“date-rape†crisis that was afflicting American society and the failure to
prosecute the persecutors of the crimes?
Tony
Garnett: I was in America trying to understand it. Having been brought up
during the war, my idea of America was of GI’s giving me gum, Hollywood action
movies and glossy TV. My reading of its history and troubled present offered me
a different picture. I was particularly interested to see how Americans tended
to settle arguments by shooting each other. Why? I also saw the relationship
between rape and guns—in my view, rape is about violence more than about sex.
It is about power and control. So I went to Dallas—so resonant in all our minds
with violence, I even began the film with shots of Dealey Plaza, the infamous
West End district of Dallas where J.F Kennedy was assassinated. Research over
many months gradually produced a story. I have always researched and allowed
characters to emerge from it and then they, under interrogation, tell me a
story.
How
did you set about writing/researching the film and securing finance for the
film? I understand that EMI stepped on board to get the film into production.
The
budget was small, around $3m, and my agent Harry Ufland set it up at EMI
without difficulty. I had no interference from them, until the rough cut and
then everyone wanted to “improve†the film. The problem was that I had made a
slow, thoughtful, and I hope considered character study, and they were
expecting a commercial hit—an action movie with some sexy rape scenes. I hadn’t
delivered. Some of the distributors were disappointed as they considered the
rape scenes a turn off and not sexy! I had to cut elements from the film that I
now regret. I also regret selling the film to Warner Brothers, instead of
Goldwyn, who were a small art house distributor. They were producing a Clint
Eastwood rape and revenge film. They didn’t want the competition so they bought
mine, sat on it, and opened it in a few theatres before pulling the film. It
was a failure. I was naïve. I wish I had gone with Goldwyn. They would have
been more sympathetic to the film.
Why
did you opt to set the film in Texas? Was it their frontier attitude and
obsession with guns that prompted this?
Texas
has a frontier attitude, there are more guns there than people and the attitude
to women tends to be courtly even as they’re commodified. I had to choose
somewhere and could have set it anywhere, in truth. But Dallas seemed right at
the time.
Stylistically
how did you approach the visual style of the film? For me, the film is a fine
blend of action mixed with a naturalistic documentary sensibility.
The
style of the film was approached in exactly the same way my colleagues and I had
been developing for decades while working in small British films, many at the
BBC. I took Charles Stewart as Director of Photography and Bill Shapter as Editor,
who I’d worked with many times as producer and director. I spent many months
doing improvisations with actors, none of them known. I found Karen in New York
and the actors who play her parents in Boston; the rest of the cast I found in
Dallas. Some, like those at the gun club and in the gun shop, were just there
and non-professional actors. We allowed the actors freedom, no marks, the
camera has to follow them; they don’t exist for the camera and the lighting.
Our aim was to never to allow a line if it felt as though a writer has written
it; I wanted to abolish “acting†acting and “directing†directing as I wanted
the technique to be invisible so that all you see is a character in a
circumstance and the audience is eavesdropping on the action.
The
casting of Karen Young as Kathleen Sullivan was brilliant as she delivers a
highly believable performance of an innocent young girl pushed over the edge
into vengeance. How did you come to cast her in the role and were you pleased
with her performance in the film?
Karen
was excellent. A very talented young woman. She never flinched when going through Karen’s
journey especially as she had many arduous emotional scenes during the shooting
of Handgun.
Director John Mackenzie's powerful
and captivating 1972 kitchen sink drama Made
has been given the opportunity to find a new audience via a tasty UK Blu-Ray
release from Network Distributing.
Valerie Marshall (Carol
White) is a single mother eking out a meagre living as a London telephone
exchange operator whilst simultaneously caring for her
multiple-sclerosis-stricken mother (Margery Mason). Seemingly destined never to
find true happiness and weary of the inapposite attentions of would-be suitors,
Valerie agrees to assist priest and family friend Father Dyson (John Castle) in
chaperoning a bunch of underprivileged youths on a day trip to the seaside.
There she meets folk singer Mike Preston (Roy Harper), whose outwardly relaxed
approach to life just might pave her way to salvation.
A slightly ponderous and largely
dispiriting snapshot of early 1970s lower class Britain, I'll openly confess
that when I first saw Made I was
convinced it would leave me cold. And after its grim beginnings I smugly
concluded that I was right. Yet gradually, in forging an array of richly drawn
characterisations and harrowing narrative turns, director Mackenzie and writer
Howard Barker slyly reeled me far enough in to their sorrowful tale that by the
time curtain fall loomed I was aching for Valerie to find happiness.
So pitch perfect are the
performances of everyone involved that the film’s warts and all tactic – which
certainly doesn't pull any punches when it comes to subjects such as the
indignities of hospitalisation and the darker face of football fanaticism – varnishes
the proceedings with a distinct documentary vibe. Nowhere is this feeling more
alive than during a powerful scene in which Valerie receives a visit from a policeman;
asking to be allowed in before he imparts his awful news, and diplomatically
turning to close the door on the camera (and, by extension, us the audience), the
officer leaves us outside to shamefully eavesdrop on Valerie's torment, whilst a
lingering shot of the closed door is intercut with a succession of fleeting
images that serve to compound the heartbreak.
One can't help but feel empathic
towards Valerie as it becomes apparent that all the men in her life care about
her only to the point of satisfying their own agendas. Her milquetoast manager
at work, Mahdav (Sam Dastor), sees her solely as a sex object. Father Dyson
clearly has romantic designs on her, but his controlling nature (subtle at the
outset, less so later) eventually drives her into unexpected arms. Even
the genial Mike – who despite initial doubts as to his intentions, appears to be
wholly sincere in his feelings for Valerie – ultimately undermines his
credibility by ruthlessly exploiting the traumas in her life in the lyrics to
one of his songs.
Carol White had a fairly
varied career where screen roles were concerned, yet due to films like Poor Cow, Dulcima and Some Call it
Loving, I uncharitably tend to associate her with gloomy dramas. But as
gloomy dramas go, in this one she’s superb and I’d probably cite poor,
life-battered Valerie as representing one of her finest film performances. As
Mike, singer/songwriter Roy Harper (who composed several of the musical numbers
especially for the film) is also exceptionally good. From the moment we first
encounter him – being interviewed on Brighton seafront by legendary music
presenter "Whispering" Bob Harris – he oozes charisma and it's easy
to see why Valerie would be drawn to him. But for me the real standout is
sad-eyed Margery Mason as Valerie's ailing mother. One scene in particular, in
which she tries to console Valerie following a dreadful turn of events, is
truly heartbreaking. (As an aside, noting that Mason lived to the ripe age of
100 whereas White passed away prematurely at just 48 certainly gives one pause to
ponder the big old lottery of life.)
The
NoHo 7, the Playhouse 7, and the Royal in Los Angeles will all be showing a
double feature of two of Doris Day’s best-known films on Monday, August 29,
2016. At 7:00 pm The Man Who Knew Too Much, the classic 1956 film directed by Alfred
Hitchcock, will be screened as part of its 60th anniversary. At 4:30 pm and again at 9:30 pm, 1961’s Lover Come Back, directed by Delbert
Mann, will be screened as part of its 55th anniversary.
From
the press release:
Doris Day Double
Feature
Part
of our Anniversary Classics series. For details, visit: laemmle.com/ac.
Click here to buy tickets to the 4:30PM Lover
Come Back (includes admission to the 7PM The Man Who Knew Too Much).
Click here to buy tickets to the 7PM The Man Who
Knew Too Much (includes admission to the 9:30PM Lover Come Back).
Laemmle’s Anniversary Classics presents
a tribute to Doris Day, one of the last surviving stars of Hollywood’s Golden
Age. Day was the number one female box office star of the 20th century, but she
was sometimes underrated as an actress. She excelled in musicals, comedy, and
drama and during the 1950s and 60s she was one of the few actresses who
regularly played working women. We offer a double feature of two of her most
popular films, the 60th anniversary of Alfred Hitchcock’s The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956) and
the 55th anniversary of Lover Come
Back (1961). So you won’t miss any of the fun, the Doris Day double bill
plays at three locations: the Royal in West L.A., Laemmle NoHo 7, and the
Playhouse 7 in Pasadena on Monday, August 29.
We will have trivia contests with
prizes at all three locations.
In ‘The Man Who Knew Too Much,’ one of
Doris Day’s rare forays into the thriller genre, the actress introduced one of
her most successful songs, the Oscar-winning hit, “Que Sera Sera.†But she also
demonstrated her versatility in several harrowing and suspenseful dramatic
scenes. She plays the wife of one of Hitchcock’s favorite actors, James
Stewart. The movie was a box office bonanza for all parties. Hitchcock’s
success during the 1940s allowed the director to employ bigger budgets and
shoot on location for several of his Technicolor thrillers in the 1950s,
including To Catch a Thief, Vertigo, and North by Northwest. For The Man Who
Knew Too Much, a remake of his own 1934 film, Hitchcock traveled to Morocco and
to London for some spectacular location scenes. In his famous series of
interviews with the Master of Suspense, Francois Truffaut wrote, “In the
construction as well as in the rigorous attention to detail, the remake is by
far superior to the original.†The plot turns on kidnapping and assassination,
all building to a concert scene in the Royal Albert Hall that climaxes
memorably with the clash of a pair of cymbals.
‘Lover Come Back’ was the second comedy
teaming of Doris Day with Rock Hudson, on the heels of their huge 1959 hit, Pillow
Talk. Day and Hudson play rival advertising executives who vie for an account
that doesn’t exist, dreamed up by Hudson to throw Day off the track, further
complicated by their romantic entanglement. Screenwriters Stanley Shapiro (who
won an Oscar for ‘Pillow Talk’) and Paul Henning concocted a witty scenario
with deft sight gags, targeting the influence of Madison Avenue in the era, and
their original screenplay was Oscar-nominated in 1961. Day, Hudson, and a
winning supporting cast including Tony Randall, Edie Adams and Jack Kruschen
are all at the top of their game, nimbly directed by Delbert Mann. The New York
Times’ Bosley Crowther raved about “…this springy and sprightly surprise, which
is one of the brightest, most satiric comedies since ‘It Happened One Night.’
The Times also celebrated the box office smash as “the funniest picture of the
year.â€
Historians of Hollywood’s Golden Age will surely remember
the name of Louella Parsons. Using the long
reach of the Hearst Newspaper Corporation as her platform, Parsons was crowned
the “Queen of Hollywood.†She was one of the earliest and foremost conveyors of
tinsel-town gossip. A radio personality
as well as a syndicated columnist, Parsons’ star would only dim when a rival, the
notorious Hedda Hopper, arrived in town circa 1938.
Regardless of the competition, Parsons would soldier on
and enjoy a long career. In her column
of October 28, 1958 (“Shocker Dueâ€), the magpie broke the news that Steve Broidy,
the president of Allied Artists, Inc. had “turned over†the studio’s newest
project “Confessions of an Opium Eater
to Producer-Director William Castle.†The forty-four year-old Castle, only then in the earliest stages of
elevating promotional ballyhoo to an
art form, had already been in the movie business for a decade and a half. Though
no one would confuse Castle as an auteur,
the producer-director-writer could reliably churn out marketable low-budget westerns,
adventure films and thrillers for such studios as Columbia, Monogram, and
Allied Artists.
In 1958, Castle would direct the moody and atmospheric
horror-mystery Macabre for Allied. Then, in September of that same year, the
filmmaker was busy wrapping up principal shooting on yet another low-budget
horror The House on Haunted Hill. Though The
House on Haunted Hill (with star Vincent Price) would not see release until
February 1959, studio bookkeepers immediately recognized the film’s box-office
potency. Allied moved quickly to sign
the work-for-hire Price to appear in what would turn out to be a more dissolute,
under-performing quickie titled The Bat
(1959).
Parsons reportage was too early out of the gate. For starters, she was misinformed regarding William
Castle’s involvement in Confessions of an
Opium Eater. Not only had she reported
that the acknowledged “Poor Man’s Hitchcock†was to leave for Tokyo, Japan in
January 1959 for location scouting, Parsons also leaked several other bits of
erroneous information: that Japanese Miiko Taka (“Marlon Brando’s screen-love
in Sayonarraâ€) had signed on as lead
actress, that the film would be shot in color, and that the resulting
production would be one of the studio’s “high budget pictures for the year.†None of this, of course, would turn out to be
true. Following the success of House on Haunted Hill, both Castle and Price
were able to strike a better deal with Columbia. It was through that studio that the (mostly
monochrome) low-budget horror-flick The
Tingler would be released in late 1959.
It’s difficult to determine exactly why Allied would
choose to press on in their desire to bring Thomas De Quincey’s slim book Confessions of an English Opium Eater to
the big-screen. The fact that it was a
public domain work and therefore free to pillage as source material cannot be
discounted. Truth be told, it’s neither
a particularly engaging story nor a tale worthy of being committed to celluloid.
Originally published in 1821 as a
serial in London magazine, the tale recounts
- in a rather straightforward if vividly described manner - the author’s
addiction to opiates. As a harrowing
medical and psychological treatise, De Quincey’s work was invaluable but, not too
surprisingly, almost nothing other than the slightly amended and grim
exploitative title would be utilized in this subsequent 1962 screen version.
Though the studio was able to entice Vincent Price – if
only briefly - back into the fold, Confessions
of an Opium Eater was the last of four films the actor would appear in for Allied. (His penultimate film for the company was a walk-on
role in the prison drama Convicts 4). Though usually cast in elegant and villainous
roles, Price is – at long last - a hero in this one, though he’s positively
raffish as first person narrator De Quincey. This is odd as the actual Thomas De Quincey was born into a British
mercantile family of means and prestige. Though a wild youth, he attended college, maintained
friendships with such colleagues as Wordsworth and Coleridge, and reportedly never
left the British Isles in the course of his lifetime. In the film however, this educated man of
letters is more provocatively cast as a tough gun-runner who developed a taste
for opium while working the tough streets of China’s mainland. Upon his 1902 return from the exotic east to
the gritty brick and clapboard streets of San Francisco’s rough and tumble Chinatown,
Price’s De Quincey’s conscience is stirred by the sad plight of the sorrowful
women we’re introduced to near the film’s beginning. The women have been kidnapped from their
families or torn from English-speaking Christian missions back home. Upon their arrival in the city by the Bay, they’re
abused, starved, and manhandled by ruthless Tongs who plan to barter their
charms in exchange for opium.
This is the sort of derring-do adventure-thriller programmer
that Monogram Pictures (the forebear of Allied) had churned out plentifully during
the 1940s. Nearly all of the creaky trademark
Monogram tropes are put into play: inscrutable
Asian villainy, exotic, smoky rooms containing secret passageways, routes to
underground labyrinths, trapdoors, drugs, crime, and bamboo-caged damsels-in-distress. The problem is this film was released in 1962
and such caricatures were from a time out of mind and would soon bring swift
condemnation. Price’s
biographer-daughter notes that Confessions
was “caught in unwelcome controversy when the Los Angeles Committee against
Defamation of the Chinese protested its release.â€
Robert Hill’s purple prose fortune cookie of a screenplay
is possibly the weakest link in a production of already tenuous value. Though the black and white film runs only eighty-five
minutes, it seems much longer. A lengthy
opium-induced hallucination scene goes on too long and is ridiculously unconvincing. Near the film’s climax, there’s a trio of writhing
slave-trade dance numbers featuring a bevy of reluctant female conscripts. These auction-block “interpretative dances†are
merely a preamble to the round of bidding before an audience of salacious Tong
members. These dances were so painful to
sit through that I nearly found myself tempted to partake in a mind-numbing taste
of the special stash myself.
To the film’s credit, the producer was not afraid to cast
an almost-exclusive Asian cast to essay the roles of Asians, no matter how thin
or racially-insensitively drawn these characters were. There’s no casting of such British colonials
as Boris Karloff or Christopher Lee, or Swede Warner Oland, to play ethnic Fu Manchu or Charlie Chan type roles. It’s interesting to note that Confessions
was released the same year as Eon Productions’ Dr. No: in the first James Bond film it’s a Canadian, Joseph
Wiseman, who would assume the role as the titular, sinister and half-Asian
super-villain. So such casting was par
for the course. The problem is that Confessions is no Dr. No. Even for us diehard Vincent
Price fans, this film is little more than a curiosity.
Producer-Director Albert Zugsmith’s Confessions of an Opium Eater is made available as a Warner Archive
DVD-R release. The film is presented in its
original back and white and in a Widescreen 1.66.1 transfer. A true bare bones release, the set features
only the movie itself without even the nominal addition of a chapter selection menu
or theatrical trailer. Though the most
indefatigable of Vincent Price fans (of which I’m one) will likely choose to
add this film to their home library, more casual fans – if interested at all - are
best advised to stream the movie as a one-off.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM THE CINEMA RETRO MOVIE STORE
Cinema Retro has received the following press release:
On May 3, fans of director Clint Eastwood’s “American Sniper†will have the
opportunity to revisit the acclaimed drama and learn even more fascinating
details about the real American war hero Chris Kyle and the Navy SEALS he
fought with. “American Sniper: The Chris
Kyle Commemorative Edition†arrives as a two-disc Blu-ray from Warner Bros.
Home Entertainment featuring a special commemorative disc with 60 minutes of
brand-new bonus content, including revealing in-depth documentaries narrated by
Bradley Cooper*. “American Sniper†stars
Cooper as Chris Kyle, whose skills as a lethal sniper and qualities as a human
being made him a hero both on and off the battlefield.
A two-time Oscar® nominee for his work in
“Silver Linings Playbook†and “American Hustle,†Cooper stars alongside Sienna
Miller, Luke Grimes, Jake McDorman, Cory Hardrict, Kevin Lacz, Navid Negahban
and Keir O’Donnell.
Oscar®-winning filmmaker Clint Eastwood
(“Million Dollar Baby,†“Unforgivenâ€) directed “American Sniper†from a screenplay written by Jason Hall, based on
the book by Chris Kyle, with Scott McEwen and Jim DeFelice. The autobiography
was a runaway bestseller, spending 18 weeks on the New York Times bestseller
list, 13 of those at number one.
The film is produced by Eastwood, Robert
Lorenz, Andrew Lazar, Bradley Cooper and Peter Morgan. Tim Moore, Jason Hall,
Sheroum Kim, Steven Mnuchin and Bruce Berman served as executive producers.
Warner Bros. Home Entertainment will donate
$1.00 of the purchases to Chris Kyle Frog Foundation up to $150,000 from April
19, 2016 through December 31, 2016, void in Alabama, Hawaii, Illinois,
Massachusetts, Mississippi and South Carolina.
The aim of the Chris Kyle Frog Foundation is
to provide meaningful, interactive experiences to service members, first
responders and their families, aimed at enriching their family relationships.
Prior to his untimely passing in February 2013, Chris had begun casting his
vision for the Chris Kyle Frog Foundation to provide experiences for service
and first responder families to work through many of the difficulties he and
Taya had experienced post-deployment. As Executive Director of the foundation,
Taya and a dedicated team are ensuring Chris’ vision, desire and legacy to the
country he served carries on now and into the future. For more information on
the Chris Kyle Frog Foundation, please visit www.chriskylefrogfoundation.org.
“American Sniper: The Chris Kyle Commemorative Edition†will be
offered on two Blu-ray discs in double elite case packaging for $24.98 SRP.
SYNOPSIS
From director Clint Eastwood comes “American Sniper,†starring Bradley
Cooper as Chris Kyle, whose skills as a sniper made him a hero on the
battlefield. But there was much more to him than his skill as a sharpshooter.
Navy SEAL Chris Kyle is sent to Iraq with
only one mission: to protect his brothers-in-arms. His pinpoint accuracy saves
countless lives on the battlefield, and as stories of his courageous exploits
spread, he earns the nickname “Legend.†However, his reputation is also growing
behind enemy lines, putting a price on his head and making him a prime target
of insurgents. He is also facing a different kind of battle on the home front:
striving to be a good husband and father from halfway around the world.
Despite the danger,
as well as the toll on his family at home, Chris serves through four harrowing
tours of duty in Iraq, personifying the spirit of the SEAL creed to “leave no
one behind.†But upon returning to his wife Taya (Sienna Miller) and kids,
Chris finds that it is the war he can’t leave behind.
BLU-RAY ELEMENTS
“American
Sniper: The Chris Kyle Commemorative Edition†Blu-ray contains the following
special features: ·*Chris Kyle: The Man Behind the Legend -- NEW! In
never-before-seen home movies, family, friends and fellow soldiers reveal
another side of ChrisKyle. ·*Navy SEALS: In War and Peace – NEW! Join Taya Kyle
and legendary SEAL Marcus Luttrell as they illuminate the secret world of
America’s elite fightingforce. ·Bringing the War Home: The Cost of Heroism – Previously only
limited availability! Discover the challenges faced by many U.S. veterans whose
return home can often be as daunting as their time atwar. ·One Soldier’s Story: The Journey of American Sniper Join director Clint
Eastwood, cast and crew as they overcome enormous creative and logistic
obstacles to bring the truth of Navy SEAL Chris Kyle’s story to thescreen. ·The Making of AmericanSniper
Hats
off to The Criterion Collection for releasing Blu-ray editions of these two
remarkable motion pictures. They have not been available in the U.S. since the
days of VHS.
The
double feature is really one big movie divided into two, both of them epics,
approximately six-and-a-half hours in total length, with built-in intermissions
in each picture. It’s the monumental story of a group of Swedish emigrants who
make their way to America in the 1840s and settle in the Minnesota wilderness.
The tale covers roughly thirty years, but the story officially ends in 1890.
The Emigrants and The New Land were landmark Swedish imports that gained much
acclaim and popularity at the time of their release. The Emigrants was the third foreign language film to be nominated
for the Best Picture Oscar (in 1972; the previous year it had been nominated
for Best Foreign Language Picture). Jan Troell also received Directing and
Screenwriting nominations (co-written with Bengt Forslund), and Liv Ullmann was
given the nod for Best Actress (she lost to Liza Minnelli in Cabaret). The New Land was nominated for Best Foreign Language Film the same
year The Emigrants was up for Best
Picture.
Ullmann
co-stars with her frequent Bergman collaborator, Max von Sydow, as Kristina and
Karl-Oscar, a poor married couple with children who decide that their farm in
Sweden is a loser and the government is corrupt and unhelpful. The dream of
many Europeans was to go to America, the promised “new land†of opportunity.
But in 1840, that wasn’t so easy. It took some money, certainly, but it also
required near-superhuman fortitude, health, and bravery. People could die crossing the ocean. Oh, and they
also had to know how to build their own house, toil the earth, grow and hunt
their own food, and fully support and protect their families in a time when
Native Americans (i.e., “savagesâ€) were living amongst them. Karl-Oscar is up
for the challenge; after the death of their young daughter from starvation in
Sweden, Kristina finally agrees to emigrate. They join a straggly group of
friends and extended family and make the journey together.
Based
on classic Swedish novels by Vilhelm Moberg, The Emigrants begins in Sweden, covers the harrowing trip over the
ocean and then the trek cross country from the east coast to the Midwest. The New Land follows their struggles to
make lives for themselves in a hostile, but beautiful, environment. The story
is presented with brutal realism and authenticity. After viewing the pictures,
there will be no doubt in one’s mind what it was really like to be an early
settler. The boat voyage alone is so powerfully realized that you won’t easily
forget it. The journey takes ten weeks, during which the twenty or so
emigrants, living in the cramped steerage of a relatively small packet ship,
undergo serious seasickness, scurvy, starvation, conflict, and some deaths.
Our
protagonist couple meets each new obstacle with tremendous strength, although
the years and frequent childbirths begin to take a toll on Kristina. Both von
Sydow and Ullmann are exceptionally good, especially in the scenes of intimacy
between two people who obviously love each other very much and are willing to
sacrifice everything for each other.
Eddie Axberg, as Karl-Oscar’s younger brother, is also a standout with his own
set of adventures that develop into a subplot as he leaves Minnesota with a
friend and heads toward California and its siren call of gold everywhere.
Beautifully
photographed, the new high-definition digital restorations, with new English
subtitle translations, look fantastic. Troell’s pace might be considered slow
by today’s standards, but like Kubrick’s Barry
Lyndon, which also strived to recreate a time and place that no longer
exists and succeeded, both The Emigrants and
The New Land capture not only the
harshness of the era, but also its grace, simplicity, and beauty.
The
supplements in the two-disc set include a new introduction to the films by
theatre and film critic John Simon; a new conversation between film scholar
Peter Cowie and director Troell; a new interview with Liv Ullmann; an hour long
documentary from 2005 on the making of the pictures with archival footage and
interviews with key personnel; and trailers. An essay by critic Terrence
Rafferty appears in the booklet.
This
is impressive, exemplary filmmaking, something any devotee of quality European
motion pictures needs to see. You may not want to get on a boat ever again.
David
Cronenberg’s horror films always seem to tackle subjects that involve an
unpredictable human body and the terror of your consciousness residing inside
of it. He explored parasites in his first mainstream picture, Shivers (aka They Came From Within, 1975), and viral “stingers†than grow in a
woman’s armpit in his second, Rabid,
1977. The rest of his movies, leading up to the ultimate statement of being
trapped in a horrible body, The Fly
(1986), all dealt with some aspect of physical or mental transformation. The Brood, released in 1979, fits right
in with Cronenberg’s thematic fascination with flesh and blood. And it’s a
corker.
Oliver
Reed plays Dr. Raglan, an unorthodox psychotherapist who uses controversial
techniques that cause his patients to manifest their inner turmoil and anger
into visible, bizarre growths on their bodies. One guy sprouts spots. Another
man grows a weird gland on the outside of his neck. The most extreme result of
Dr. Raglan’s methods occurs with a disturbed woman named Nola (Samantha Eggar),
who was abused as a child and is in the throes of a divorce and custody battle
with her husband Frank (Art Hindle). Nola is growing “wombs†on her body that eventually
give birth to horrific dwarf “copies†of her and Frank’s five-year-old daughter
Candice (Cindy Hinds)—except these siblings are murderous creatures unwittingly
and psychically controlled by their mother. They have the faces of trolls, no
navels, and are anatomically asexual, but otherwise they are somewhat identical
to Candice. (Where they get the clothes that Candice wears is unexplained.)
As
a horror film, The Brood brilliantly
succeeds. The shocks are genuine, the gross-out factor is palpable, and the
story—which is absurd on the surface—is intelligently well-written (by
Cronenberg himself). Apparently the impetus for the film was the director’s
harrowing experience in going through a divorce and rescuing his child from a
cult.
Reed
delivers one of his best campy performances, and Eggar is suitably deranged in
her part. Of particular note is young Hinds, who manages to be simultaneously
innocent and creepy—this was her first acting role. Perhaps the weakest link in
the picture is Hindle, who somehow never reaches the emotional heights that his
co-stars do.
It’s
a fairly low-budget affair, made for a little less than two million dollars,
but the visual effects and production values are top-notch. As noted in the new
supplemental documentary on the film’s making, all the strange bodily terrors
were accomplished with clever makeup applications—in particular, the use of
various-sized condoms filled with movie blood and... other stuff. Eggar relates
how hilarious this actually was on the set; she could hardly keep from laughing
as the crew glued the ends of prophylactics onto her torso.
Criterion
has released a new, restored 2K digital transfer, supervised by Cronenberg,
with an uncompressed monaural soundtrack. As is usually the case with Criterion
Blu-rays, the video is gorgeous and vividly colorful—and this is one of those
movies in which the color is practically a character in the film! Supplements
include: the new documentary featuring interviews with Eggar, executive
producer Pierre David, cinematographer Mark Irwin, assistant director John
Board, and special makeup effects artists Rick Baker and Joe Blasco (neither of
whom worked on The Brood, but served
on other Cronenberg pictures); a 2011 interview with Cronenberg covers his
early career in the 70s; a 2013 interview with Hindle and a grown-up Hinds is
conducted by the editor of Fangoria magazine;
and—most fun of all—a segment from The
Merv Griffin Show from 1980, featuring Reed verbally sparring with Orson
Welles. There’s also a radio spot and an essay by critic Carrie Rickey in the
booklet.
Another
notable supplement is Cronenberg’s rare second feature film, Crimes of the Future (1970), made in
color on a shoestring budget. This is a truly bizarre picture about a world in
which all the women capable of reproducing are gone (killed by toxic cosmetics)
and men are attempting to compensate without a feminine influence in their
lives. A little too stilted for its own good, Crimes serves as a curiosity in the Cronenberg pantheon that is
worth seeing... once.
But
the main attraction is an excellent fright fest. The Brood has arrived in glorious high definition just in time for
Halloween. Grab the popcorn, turn out the lights, and prepare yourself for some
truly nightmarish material. The Brood is
a keeper.
The Warner Archive has re-issued a special DVD edition of director Philip Kaufman's The White Dawn as a burn-to-order title. The previous version had been released by Paramount Home Video in 2004 to commemorate the film's 30th anniversary. Fortunately, this reissue carries over the special bonus features from that release. The movie was not well received by either critics or the public at the time of its initial release and vanished rather quickly. Although the production boasts three well-respected actors in the lead roles, none of them were considered "box office" and Kaufman himself had only one modestly received movie to his credit (The Great Northfield Minnesota Raid). It is appropriate that The White Dawn has been re-examined in recent years. This isn't some undervalued classic, but it is an interesting film with many merits. The story is based on a novel by James Houston that, in turn, was inspired by true events. The film opens in 1896 with the three leading men seen as crew members of a whaling ship that is trolling the ice-packed waters off of remote Baffin Island in Canada, just below the Arctic Circle. They manage to harpoon a whale from their long boat but in their relentless pursuit of the creature, they end up being shipwrecked on an ice flow and given up for dead by their fellow crew members. They are saved from certain death by Inuit (Eskimo) people who take them to their village and nurse them back to health. With no immediate hope of returning to their own world, the three men- Billy (Warren Oates), Daggett (Timothy Bottoms) and Portagee (Lou Gossett)- acclimate themselves as best they can in the igloo village they must now call home. The transition is not an easy one. The language barrier presents the most obvious obstacle but there is also the harsh landscape that requires a constant battle to survive. The people are perpetually threatened by severe weather, dangerous polar bears and starvation. They lead a nomadic lifestyle, having to relocate every time the food supply becomes meager. Despite these obstacles, over the course of a one year period, the three men adjust to life among the Inuit, who treat them warmly and respectfully. Before long, they are accepted as "family" by their saviors, who are amused by the cultural differences the men bring to the village. The Inuit elders follow tradition and willingly share their wives as sex partners for the men. To Kaufman's credit, these scenes are handled with a playful innocence and are never distasteful. With sex just about the only enjoyable past time in this frozen wasteland, the Inuit regard it with a laissez faire attitude- much to the delight of their "guests". Although Daggett and Portagee are respectful of their hosts and acclimate themselves to the environment, Billy is a hot-tempered, self-centered man who mocks the Inuit behind their backs and regards them as savages. Eager to make a mad gamble to find another whaling ship that will rescue them, he manages to exert influence over his two companions and thus sets in motion a series of events that leads to the film's tragic conclusion. Billy's attempts to con his hosts at games of chance in order to make claim to their women is the first indication that the situation is going awry. The Inuit prove not to be the gullible, childlike people Billy thinks they are. They are quite aware of attempts to manipulate them. Billy also orchestrates the trio's ill-fated attempt to steal precious food and a boat in order to flee to "civilization". The men fail spectacularly and are faced with the humiliation of having to be rescued once again by the very people whose trust they have abused. However, it is the introduction of Billy's home-made liquor to these innocent people that ultimately leads to the final tragedy.
It's unclear to what degree the incidents portrayed on film reflect what happened in real life. The history has been passed down among the Inuit, so one must assume there has been some alteration or embellishment of the facts, as will inevitably happen over time with any oral history. What impresses most about the film is Michael Chapman's stark cinematography in this frozen wasteland. You literally wonder how any living creature can survive in such an environment, let alone thrive. On the DVD, Kaufman, who provides an audio commentary as well as a filmed introduction, relates the seemingly impossible obstacles that had to be overcome in order to shoot the film. Environmental factors were only part of the challenge. He also had to coach his cast of Inuit people, none of whom had probably ever seen a movie before, let alone acted. In that regard, he pulls off what may be the film's signature achievement, because these non-professional thespians turn in remarkably convincing performances. Henry Mancini provides a wonderful score (one of his personal favorites) that was inspired by an impromptu song that was created by an Inuit woman.
The problem with the film from a dramatic standpoint is that it is never as emotionally moving as it should be. We certainly cringe when we see the rescued whaler's abuse of their savior's hospitality but we never learn anything about their backgrounds and they remain superficial protagonists. With Daggett and Portagee clearly level-headed, decent men, it is never theorized why they continue to follow the bull-headed Billy's advice, even when it would seem to inevitably lead to disaster. The performances of Oates, Bottoms and Gossett- fine actors all- never rise above the level of being merely competent, primarily because, at heart, this is really the story of the Inuit people and how these "aliens" have abused their trust and generosity.
The DVD contains an excellent, restored transfer of the feature film, a brief filmed introduction by Philip Kaufman as well as his commentary track and a historical look at life among the Inuit people. Kaufman also appears in Welcoming the Dawn, an interesting featurette in which he largely focuses on the technical and logistical problems of bringing the story to the screen. He is particularly determined to stress that the slaying of a polar bear in one of the film's most harrowing sequences, did not result in injury to the animal, as incredible as that may seem after viewing the scene. Whatever you think of the end result, after hearing about these obstacles, you'll have to admire the sheer grit and determination of Kaufman and his crew for working amid some of the harshest conditions on the planet. As director, Kaufman has made a number of fine, off-beat films that don't fit easily into any one mold. The White Dawn is certainly one of them. It's a flawed film, to be sure, but one that does have elements that will haunt you long after you've seen it.
The decline and decay of American urban centers in the 1960s- along with the inevitable soaring crime rates- inspired Hollywood studios to reflect the general mood of society. It was clearly a tumultuous period, perhaps the most divisive era in American history since the Civil War a hundred years before. Race riots, Vietnam War protests, assassinations of high profile figures and soaring poverty rates combined to provide a perfect storm of social unrest. Always a barometer of where society was at at any particular point in time, the major studio releases begat a tidal wave of urban crime movies. Many of these centered on a single "lone wolf" protagonist...the "dirty cop", if you will, who generally had disdain for following constitutional rights in his quest to fight crime, often within the very police department he worked for. From the late 1960s through the 1970s, we saw such memorable cops as "Popeye" Doyle, "Dirty Harry" Callahan, Frank Bullitt and Virgil Tibbs taking on crime kingpins as well as top brass. The actions of these cops would be found to abhorrent today but at the time, the "shoot first, ask questions later" approach clearly had the backing of an American population that was losing faith in their criminal justice system. Sidney Lumet's 1973 film "Serpico" was perhaps the most compelling look at this problem, as it depicted a real life New York City police officer who dared to take on corruption in the highest levels of his own department and discovered that payoffs and back room deals between cops and crooks were systemic. By the mid-1970s, even John Wayne, the most stalwart symbol of political conservatism, had gone rogue by playing "stick-it-to-the-brass" detectives in "McQ" and "Brannigan". The explosion of urban crime dramas provided a great many opportunities for black actors. Sidney Poitier paved the way with his landmark performance in the 1967 film "In the Heat of the Night" and then revived the leading man from that film, Virgil Tibbs, in two sequels. The 1971 release of director Gordon Parks' "Shaft", portraying a slick, cynical black private eye, was a surprise success with mainstream audiences and led to the overnight tidal wave of so-called blaxploitation films, which were, with few exceptions, crudely made productions that merited "guilty pleasure" status with viewers. One of the many benefits of this trend was the emergence of so many fine African-American actors who had been performing under the radar in terms of name recognition.
"Across 110th Street", released in 1972, is not a blaxploitation film but it is a hybrid between that genre and the more upscale big studio crime flicks of the era. It boasts an intelligent script by Luther Davis, based on the source novel by Walter Ferris. The film takes place during the period when Harlem was generally depicted on screen as an urban wasteland, characterized by burned out buildings, back lots strewn with garbage and a generation of young black man with no hopes or prospects and, thus, falling prey to the lure of the criminal life. The movie opens with a back room meeting between members of an odd alliance: Mafia guys getting together with their counterparts in the Harlem mob to split up weekly proceeds from shakedowns and other ill-gotten gains. Just as they are counting the loot, they are interrupted by two black police officers who turn out to be small time crooks in disguise. They attempt to steal the money but the plan goes awry leading to the machine gun massacre of all the mob guys. The four perpetrators of the crime against the crooks make a hair-raising getaway, gunning down two legitimate police officers in the process. The NYPD is determined to find the culprits. Ordinarily, it would fall to veteran police captain Matelli (Anthony Quinn) to head the investigation. However, he's ordered to play a subordinate role to Lt. Pope, a young up-and-coming black detective (Yaphet Kotto) who the top brass believe might have more resources within the Harlem community. The notion of taking orders from someone with a subordinate rank infuriates Matelli and he had Pope have a strained relationship at best. "Across 110th Street" is a unique crime movie from this period on a number of levels. For one, the two main police protagonists don't dominate the movie. Most of the screen time is dedicated to the plight of the four hapless thieves who inadvertently caused a massacre. They split up and hope to stay under the radar in the wake of the crime. However, not only are the cops looking for them but so is the Harlem mob as well as Mafia goons headed by their enforcer, Nick D'Salvio (Anthony Franciosa). Everyone wants the stolen money and the frightened men who have it are in imminent danger. In some harrowing sequences, D'Salvio and his men track down three of the four thieves and render torturous street justice to them. The last remaining holdout is Jim Harris (superbly played by Paul Benjamin), the smartest of the group who manages to stay hidden thanks to the help of his sexy girlfriend. However, in an intriguing plot twist, his asthma leads to complications that result in a terrifically exciting finale as cops, mob guys and the Harlem crooks all race to get to him first.
The film was directed with admirable style by Barry Shear, who was primarily a TV director of repute, though he did helm the low-budget cult movie "Wild in the Streets" in 1968. Shear presents a flair not only for ambitious action sequences but also for intense dramatic scenes between the main characters. Anthony Quinn gets top billing and gives a fine performance as a world-weary cop who considers himself honest even though he is on the payroll of a Harlem crime king. He also thinks nothing of beating suspects and depriving them of legal representation, tactics that appall the more modern and progressive methods of Lt. Pope. The two men clash constantly and the inevitable racial and generational barriers between them becomes points of contention. This was an important film for Yaphet Kotto. Although he had been a respected character actor for years, this time around he got "above the title" billing with Quinn. His quiet intensity has always allowed him to steal every scene he is in and this is no exception. Kotto always brings dignity to the roles he plays, even if the characters are not very dignified. Anthony Franciosa also has a meaty role as the outwardly charming D'Salvio, who is, in reality, a merry sadist. Although he travels with goons and bodyguards, he enjoys getting his hands dirty and administrating the beatings and tortures himself. There are a couple of other "up-and-comers" seen in supporting roles including Burt Young and Gloria Hendry, who would go on to star with Yaphet Kotto in the James Bond hit "Live and Let Die" the following year. The film captures the look and feel of New York City at the low point in its history. Today, the city has undergone a Renaissance, as has many of the great American urban centers. Gotham routinely posts annual crime figures that are the lowest since the early 1960s. The city is a far cry from the era in which this film is made but one aspect of the movie remains uncomfortably relevant: the relationship between police and the minority community, as evidenced by continuous high profile cases that seem to erupt in the news every other day. Although most of these incidents now seem to take place outside of major urban areas, they provide proof that America has still not completely turned the corner on one of the most divisive aspects of its culture: race relations.
The film has been released on Blu-ray by Kino Lorber Studio Classics. The transfer has a graininess to it that I believe represents the way the film was originally shot. In any event, it only adds to the grindhouse nature of the subject matter. "Across 110th Street" is a top-notch crime thriller from an era that boasted many top-notch crime thrillers. Essential viewing, if you like films from this era. The only bonus is trailer, which is a work print version that is lacking any on-screen titles or credits. In all, another welcome release from Kino Lorber.
Now this is what you call a bargain: three terrific WWII flicks for only $10 on Amazon, courtesy of Shout! Factory's Timeless Media label, which continues to distribute first rate editions of films that were often considered to be second-rate at the time of their initial release. This "War Film Triple Feature" package includes three gems that were not particularly notable at the time of their release. Two have grown in stature, while the third has benefited only from Cinema Retro writer Howard Hughes' enthusiastic coverage in issue #25. The films included in the set are:
"Attack" (1955)- During the period of WWII, both the Allied and Axis film industries concentrated on feature films that were pure propaganda designed to motivate their fighting men and the public at large. By the early-to-mid-1950s, however, more introspective viewpoints emerged among Hollywood directors and writers. With the conflict now over, the American military became fair game for criticism, though thin-skinned top brass would withhold official cooperation to productions that didn't pass their demands to show the Army or Navy in a positive light. Fred Zinnemann had to water down the script for "From Here to Eternity" from being a scathing indictment of military brass to making the villains a couple of stray bad apples who got their just comeuppance once the generals rode to the rescue of oppressed enlisted men. By 1955, director Robert Aldrich had emerged as a major new talent and had enough clout with the studios to thumb his nose at Pentagon demands when it came to developing his latest project, a controversial WWII script titled "Attack" (aka "Attack!"). Aldrich, who also produced the film, was denied use of military personnel and equipment when he refused to radically change the story. Instead, he focused on a small band of soldiers and laid out $1,000 of his own money to buy an old tank- the only "major" investment in this economical production. Ironically, by making the film on a relatively tiny budget, he succeeded in creating one of the most powerful military stories of its era. The film focuses on a company of battle-weary G.I.s who just lost a sizable portion of their unit when a mission went terribly awry. Lt. Joe Costa (Jack Palance) puts the blame squarely on his commanding officer, Captain Cooney (Eddie Albert), accusing him of cowardly behavior by failing to provide the men under his command with the backup support he had promised. When Cooney orders Costa and his men to occupy a farmhouse in a village that may be infested with the enemy, he makes similar problems to provide backup support should a firefight break out. Costa threatens to kill Cooney if he breaks his word again but Cooney remains unphased. Like the French officers in Kubrick's "Paths of Glory", he is a politically connected snob whose influence in social circles allows him to be protected by his commanding officer, Lt. Col. Bartlett (Lee Marvin). Bartlett is repulsed by Cooney's cowardice but has political aspirations after the war and knows that, by coddling Cooney, his influential father can assure his being elected. When the mission goes predictably bad, Costa loses many men under his command and Cooney never provides the promised assistance. This leads to some of the most shocking developments ever seen in an American war movie and, indeed, the scenario that plays out is still rather traumatizing today as an enraged Costa enacts his plan of revenge. The ending of the film is so unlike anything seen in a Hollywood production that one is surprised the film wasn't consigned to sit unreleased on a shelf. As leading man, Jack Palance is acting with a capital "A" as he uses every nuance of the new "method" acting that was then all the rage. Still, he makes a powerful on screen presence. However, it is Eddie Albert who steals the show with a masterful performance as a sniveling, spoiled elitist. (The irony is that Albert was a real life war hero who was wounded during the D-Day invasion.) Lee Marvin is also excellent in an early career role and Robert Strauss provides the few laughs in the film as a blue collar Jewish soldier who is understandably paranoid about being captured by Germans. "Attack" is a terrific war movie- one that probably plays better today than it did at the time of its initial release.
"BEACH RED" (1967)- While Cornel Wilde primarily enjoyed a successful career as a reasonably popular leading man, he also showed considerable skill as a director. His 1966 African adventure film "The Naked Prey" was an impressive achievement on all levels. Wilde followed that film with "Beach Red", a 1967 WWII era story that seems to have intentional parallels with America's increasingly unpopular presence in Vietnam. Based on a novel written near the end of WWII, "Beach Red" is primarily a pacifist view of a "good war", that is a conflict that the Western democracies realized was necessary to avoid totalitarianism from dominating the globe. Wilde isn't interested in the big picture, however. His film concentrates on how war affects individuals, in this case a company of U.S. G.Is who must make a seemingly suicidal landing off an unnamed beach in the Pacific while under relentless Japanese fire. This opening sequence is quite harrowing and Wilde does an excellent job of handling the logistics. (He had the cooperation of the Philippine government in return for filming there, thus had actual soldiers available as extras for the battle scenes.) The gruesome close-ups of wounded and dying Americans caused a bit of a stir in critical circles back in the day but Wilde deserves credit for showing an aspect of war that went beyond the standard Hollywood "Gung Ho!" treatment of men in battle. The opening sequence also blends in real battle footage, but as was generally the case with this tactic, the grainy newsreel footage is a rather awkward match for the crisp, clean work of Wilde's cinematographer Cecil R. Cooney. The screenplay was quite offbeat for the era. The action moves back and forth between American and Japanese lines in an attempt to humanize both sides. This wasn't an entirely unique premise. David Lean had made the Japanese commander a three dimensional character in his 1957 classic "The Bridge on the River Kwai" and Frank Sinatra- in his only attempt at directing- humanized Japanese troops in his 1965 film "None But the Brave". Nevertheless, presenting "the other side" as something other than comic book cliches gives "Beach Red" a mature, interesting outlook on the war in the Pacific. The only other "name" actor in the film is Rip Torn as Wilde's hard-boiled second-in-command who has a tendency for sadism. Wilde gets a bit artsy by blending in flashbacks envisioned by both American and Japanese soldiers as they mutually dream of their wives and families back home. Some of these sequences are set to a pacifist-themed folk song and proves to be effective in conveying some real emotion when a character meets a grisly demise. There is a disjointed feel to the film, as though Wilde seemed to have a strong message but didn't know how to quite wrap it all up in a single package. Nevertheless, "Beach Red" remains an underrated, bold film that displays Wilde's talents both in front of and behind the camera.
"ATTACK ON THE IRON COAST" (1968)- As mentioned previously, Cinema Retro writer Howard Hughes covered the making of this relatively low-budget 1968 WWII film in issue #25 and extolled its virtues. "Coast" was one of numerous small-scale wartime movies filmed in England in the late 1960s that turned out to be highly entertaining, well-scripted, directed and acted. "Coast" is one of the best of the bunch, most of which were produced by Oakmont Productions and released by United Artists, often as the lower half of double bills in the United States. Lloyd Bridges, in a rare starring role in a feature film, plays Major Jamie Wilson, a man who is haunted by a botched major military operation that resulted in 3/4 of his command being killed. He is at odds with Captain Franklin (Andrew Keir), an equally hard-nosed officer whose son was killed in the ill-fated operation. Both men blame each other for bungling the mission and there is genuine hatred between them. To redeem himself, Wilson devises another elaborate, highly dangerous mission- this time to send a small group of commandos into Occupied France to destroy a dockside refueling station that the Germans consider crucial for continuing to wreak havoc on Allied naval forces. Predictably, Wilson and Franklin are assigned to spearhead the mission despite their mutual dislike for each other. Wilson's relentless training for the operation results in his getting a reputation as a Captain Bligh-like figure, despite the fact that at home, he is a devoted husband to his wife Sue (Sue Lloyd) and his young son Jimmy (Mark Ward). Wilson's plan involves disguising a vessel as an enemy boat and sailing unobstructed near the French port where frogmen will swim to the dock and destroy key installations. The German commander (Walter Gotell) is fortunately preoccupied with an easy lifestyle of watching stag movies, smoking cigars and drinking fine liquors. The early stages of the operation prove to be successful- but then things start to go wrong. Director Paul Wendkos, who also helmed the Oakmont production "Hell Boats", does a good job of wringing a lot of suspense out of the intelligent script. He's helped by the fact that both Bridges and Keir (a Christopher Lee type with a strong screen presence) both deliver excellent performances. The low budget is evident in the use of miniatures in the battle sequences, but overall, "Attack on the Iron Coast" is a first rate "B" movie. Highly recommended.
Twilight Time has released yet another excellent film as a limited edition (3,000 unit) Blu-ray release. The Roots of Heaven was made in 1958, directed by John Huston and based on a novel by Romain Gary, who co-wrote the screenplay. Like many of the movies the video label makes available to retro film fans, this is a very interesting production that might otherwise have escaped your attention. Such was the case with this writer. I had heard of the movie but knew nothing about it until I popped a review disc in my Blu-ray player. The first impressive aspect is the cast: Errol Flynn, Trevor Howard and Orson Welles in one production? Irresistible. What is truly fascinating about The Roots of Heaven is its politically progressive point-of-view, an urgent plea for conservation and care for animals and the environment during an era where this was hardly populist fare. Howard is cast as Morel, a charismatic but eccentric Englishman living in French Equatorial Africa. Morel is on a one-man crusade to stop the wholesale killing of elephants by poachers and thrill seekers. He goes through official channels in an attempt to get influential politicians to join his cause and pass conservation laws, but he is mocked and dismissed as a crazy man. Aghast and disgusted by the colonial European's disregard for the land and its animals, Morel turns up the heat, recruiting a small band of confederates with whom he wreaks havoc on the local hierarchy. As Morel turns to increasingly desperate and violent tactics, he becomes the nation's most wanted man. His motley gang includes Forsythe (Errol Flynn), a courageous but perpetually drunken hotel owner and Minna (Juliette Greco), a glamorous and fiercely independent local hooker who has survived being forced into prostitution in Nazi bordellos. Together, the group begins to gain international fame, especially when their exploits are broadcast worldwide by a famed radio announcer (Orson Welles) who they initially disgrace, but who comes to admire their courage and determination. With fame, however, comes danger, and before long the small band of heroes find themselves under increasingly difficult circumstances as the reward money for their capture grows. Undeterred, they soldier on, continuing to harass poachers and government officials alike until their efforts win them international support. It all comes to a head in a harrowing climax that pits the conservationists against a particularly brutal band of hunters who are intent on slaughtering a large number of elephants in order to get the all-important ivory.
The production was the brainchild of legednary Fox mogul Darryl F. Zanuck, who had temporarily left the studio to become an independent producer. The Roots of Heaven is such a fine film that it's puzzling why retro film scholars and academics continue to overlook its virtues. The movie's troubled production history may have something to do with it. Huston originally intended to cast William Holden as Morel, but when that fell through, he went with Trevor Howard. Aware that Howard was anything but a matinee idol, Huston reluctantly rewrote the part to make the implied romance between his character and Minna more paternal than sensual. Huston also griped that the film was rushed into production, thus resulting in many artistic compromises being made. The shoot itself was hell, with the cast and crew enduring temperatures that routinely caused people to faint from heat exhaustion. What emerged, however, was a film that remains impressive on many counts. Howard reaffirms his status as one of the best (and most underrated) actors of his generation. He is stern, stubborn, and yet sympathetic in his quixotic quest to bring appreciation of nature to the tone deaf bureaucrats who could end the slaughter of magnificent animals with the stroke of a pen. A weathered, but still dashing Errol Flynn gets top billing, but he's largely relegated to window dressing in what is clearly a supporting role. Still, he exudes plenty of the old charm and charisma in what would be his second-to-last film. The biggest surprise is the performance of Juliette Greco, who was cast primarily because she was Zanuck's mistress du jour. In the informative DVD booklet by Julie Kirgo, she relates that Greco despised Zanuck and routinely mocked him behind his back. Yet, unlike some of Zanuck's arm candy, Greco possessed not only glamor but real acting ability, inveighing the time worn character of the sympathetic hooker with pathos. It's truly a pity that major stardom did not follow. The film benefits greatly from Oswald Morris' magnificent cinematography and the fact that Huston, as he did on The African Queen, eschews studio shots as much as possible to maximize exotic locations. (There is real irony in that Huston's main motive for making Queen was said to be his obsession with hunting and killing an elephant. In The Roots of Heaven, he directs a story that deplores such behavior). There is also a rousing score by Malcolm Arnold that channels some key ingredients from his compositions for The Bridge on the River Kwai.
Kudos to Twilight Time for once again saving a terrific film from cinematic oblivion.
Terry Gilliam with Cinema Retro columnist Adrian Smith at a 2009 BFI tribute to Gilliam in London.
Cinema Retro has received the following press release:
Filmmaker Terry Gilliam is fronting a Kickstarter campaign to restore Walerian Borowczyk's classic 1968 film Goto, l'île d'amour (Goto, Island of Love).
Speaking about the Polish artist and filmmaker’s work Gilliam says: “They activate a part of my brain that very few other things do…I haven't seen any of these films in probably thirty or forty years, but they all have stuck with me. He needs to be restored and the world needs to be reminded.â€
Producer Daniel Bird says: â€For fifteen years I have been trying to find a way to restore Borowczyk's early films. Obviously, I am thrilled to be working with Arrow Films on this box-set."
The restorations were completed at Deluxe laboratories, London, under the supervision of leading film restorer, James White. This will be the first time that many of these films will be available in any home video format in any territory.
Born in Poland in 1923, where he studied painting and sculpture before establishing himself as a poster artist during the late 1950s, Borowczyk emigrated to France in 1959 where he lived and worked for the rest of his life. With films such as Renaissance (1963) and Rosalie (1966), Borowczyk played a major part in getting animated film recognised as a serious art form.
According to Amos Vogel, author of Film as a Subversive Art, Borowczyk's harrowing 1964 animation Les jeux des anges (Angels' Games) is simply “a masterpiece of modern art.â€
In The New Biographical Dictionary of Film, David Thomson describes Borowczyk as “one of the major artists of modern cinema, arguably the finest talent that East Europe has provided.â€
In addition, Arrow Films has collaborated with Argos Films, Paris, to release two other Borowczyk films, Contes immoraux (Immoral Tales, 1974) and La Bête (The Beast, 1975) in newly restored high definition transfers, as well as five more short films. These acquisitions will form the basis of Arrow’s Walerian Borowczyk Blu-ray and DVD box set, which is to be released as part of the Arrow Academy series in Spring 2014.
The co-producer of the box set isMichael Brooke in conjunction with Ligia Borowczyk and the filmmaker's regular assistant and producer, Dominique Segretin.
During
the 1980s and 1990s I became disillusioned with television shows in general. Most of the series airing at the time seemed
derivative and predictable with little regard for the audience and more for the
commercial breaks. All of that changed
in 2001 when I began watching HBO’s The
Sopranos on a free HBO weekend, the first show that I can confess to binge-viewing
(the act of watching numerous episodes back to back with no break) and easily
the best television series that I have seen thus far. What was remarkable about it was the ability
of the writers to take their time and develop not only characters but
significant plot points, all without the annoying constraints of network
television and the need to get to the next conflict. This is not to infer that network television
is completely without merit as that
would be a gross and unfair oversimplification. Fox Network's 24, a show that
I initially was at first reluctant to watch, sucked me in when its first season
debuted on DVD. I have never been so
addicted to a storyline before and could not wait for the next episode and then
the next season. I have watched all eight
seasons at least three times.
The
Fox network has a sister network, Fox Extended or FX for short, and like most
other cable networks it has its fair share of exclusive programming (and
commercials, sigh), a maneuver that
appears to be the norm for networks if they are to survive. Even Netflix has learned this with their highly
acclaimed series House of Cards. FX’s most successful show, Sons of Anarchy, is now airing its
penultimate and sixth season. The series
has been heavily criticized for its use of brutality and profane language, though
I’m not sure that a motorcycle gang would speak any other way (as of this
writing you cannot drop “F†bombs, at least not yet, on this network). Despite
these complaints, however, SOA, as it
is known to its most zealous adherents, remains a rich dissection of the human
condition and how people deal with problems and try to solve them. They aren’t necessarily people you would want
to live next door to, but nefarious characters are infinitely more interesting than
real life. For one thing, they make us
think about how we would act if we found ourselves in their circumstances. In Breaking
Bad, Vince Gilligan's brilliant AMC series about high school science
teacher Walter White (played stupendously by Bryan Cranston) who becomes a manufacturer
of methamphetamine after he is diagnosed with lung cancer, people who normally
otherwise would not resort to violence or murder end up making those choices
when pushed to the brink and see no other options. In SOA,
murder seems to be a way of life and there is the Shakespearean element at work,
though it is covert; critics have cited Hamlet
as an obvious influence. Each season of
the show consists of 13 episodes, and season five is now newly available on DVD
and Blu-ray.
In
the fictional town of Charming, CA, the Teller-Morrow family heads up the
original and founding chapter of the Sons of Anarchy Motorycle Club, Redwood
Original (aka SAMCRO for short). At the
end of season four, Jackson Teller (Charlie Hunnam) has become the president of
the club, with his future wife Tara (Maggie Siff) at his side. Season five opens with the introduction of
the father of a young woman accidentally killed by the recklessness of Tig (Kim
Coates), one of the Sons’s members. Unfortunately for Tig, his victim’s father is a drug lord and the most
dangerous gangster in Oakland, CA, who catches up with Tig and enacts the old “an
eye for an eye†principle against one of Tig’s two daughters in one of the most
harrowing and upsetting sequences in the show’s history. This action propels forward a plotline that
ends up with Clay (former president of SAMCRO, played by Ron Perlman) in jail
for a murder he didn’t commit in the final episode. Along the way, a major character dies in a
brutal way, and the show follows the axiom that no one is safe when it comes to
violent storylines. Jackson constantly
has to make difficult choices for the sake of his family and the club he
presides over while trying to placate his vice president Bobby (Mark Boone
Junior). In some ways, he is like 24’s Jack Bauer as he is sucked into
danger and has to use his wits to extricate himself and his club members. More often than not he is trying to convince his
mother and Tara that things are going to be different and that everything will
be all right; though noble, it doesn’t appear to be realistic.
Creator
and executive producer Kurt Sutter, who pulls double duty playing “Big Ottoâ€
Delaney, has amassed a phenomenal cast. The performances are universally
excellent. My personal favorite is Mr.
Sutter’s real-life wife, Katey Sagal, who won a well-deserved Golden Globe Award
in 2011 for her brilliant portrayal of Gemma, Jackson’s mom. I always liked Mrs. Sagal as Peg on Married…with Children, and her banter
with Ed O'Neill, her slovenly husband Al. I never would have thought of her as a choice to play a character like
Gemma, however she has blown me away with the depth of her characterization of
this woman who will stop at nothing to keep her family intact.
The
Blu-ray looks absolutely gorgeous in high definition and the sound is crystal
clear. If you pump it through a stereo,
be prepared to mistake some of the sound effects for real-life sounds: several
times I thought my phone was ringing–
and my phone vibrates, I don’t even use a ringtone!
There
are also some nice extras to go around. Some of the episodes have some extended
scenes. There are also deleted scenes
and a few commentaries on select episodes. The best feature, in my humble opinion, is the ability to run the
episodes continuously without having to go to the main menu and select the next
one if you decide to watch more than one in a row. It actually encourages binge viewing!
Another
winning release for fans of this terrific show.
I love the sheer eclectic quality of the Twilight Time catalog. The company's DVD and Blu-ray releases run include every conceivable film genre and the range of titles runs from undisputed classics to underrated gems to massive misfires that now merit status as "guilty pleasures". Falling firmly into the latter category is Lost Horizon, producer Ross Hunter's notorious 1973 big budget musical remake of Frank Capra's 1937 classic. Both versions adhere to the basic framework of James Hilton's classic source novel but the Hunter version obviously deviates far more in order to accommodate glossy Hollywood elements. (Hilton's obviously did not allude to elaborate song and dance numbers.) When a film that features so many talented people misfires badly, it's tempting to say, "What were they thinking???" However, in the case of Lost Horizon, special dispensation is merited for the participants because, at the time, it must have looked like an irresistible project. The director was Charles Jarrott, who was then a hot property, coming off the acclaimed films Anne of the Thousand Days and Mary, Queen of Scots. The producer was Ross Hunter, a Hollywood perennial with a sterling reputation for producing audience-pleasing box-office hits, most recently the blockbuster Airport. The score would be composed by the red-hot team of Burt Bacharach and Hal David and the cast would feature many talented actors then at the height of their careers: Peter Finch, Liv Ullmann, Michael York, George Kennedy, Sally Kellerman and Olivia Hussey- with acting royalty represented by the likes of John Gielgud and Charles Boyer. The production numbers would be choreographed by the legendary Hermes Pan, the script was penned by Larry Kramer, who recently won acclaim for his adaptation of Women in Love and the cinematographer was Robert Surtees, himself a film industry legend. What could go wrong? Against all odds, the answer would be: "Everything."
The film opens well enough with Finch as Richard Conway, a British diplomat who has tried and failed to broker a peace treaty in an unnamed Asian nation torn by civil war. We first see him trying frantically to coordinate rescue flights for stranded Americans and Europeans as rebels close in on the airport amid rioting crowds clamoring to get on the last planes out. (The scene would be replicated shortly thereafter in real life with the fall of Saigon.) Conway manages to get aboard the final flight, which takes off even as rebels pursue the plane down the runway. On board is an eclectic group consisting of Conway's brother George (Michael York), Sally Hughes (Sally Kellerman), a burned out and depressed war photographer, Sam Cornelius (George Kennedy), a once-promising architect who is now in hiding due to a financial scandal and Harry Lovett (Bobby Van), a small time night club comedian with delusions of grandeur. They find their plane has been hijacked and they are en route to an unknown destination. Ultimately, they crash land on a mountain range in the Himalayas where they are rescued in a peculiarly timely manner by a number of natives led by Chang (John Gielgud), their elderly but capable spiritual leader. The refugees make a difficult journey through a blinding snow storm before walking through a cave and emerging into a sunny, tropical oasis that is called Shangri-La. Chang explains that the community's unique geographical situation- protected by mountains on all sides- allows the weather to never vary. The warm climate allows for a year-long abundance of crops. It doesn't take the refugees long to discover that this is a fairy tale-like paradise, virtually untouched by the outside world. There are luxurious homes and temples and the people never allow personal disputes to escalate to the level of violence. It is explained that the luxuries and materials for the magnificent buildings were all brought in painstakingly by the few porters who are allowed in from the outside world. (There must have been quite an abundance, as Chang's home alone contains more furniture than the average Ikea store.) Before long, the group becomes comfortable in their new-found paradise with most reluctant to even attempt to leave, a feat that Chang says is all but impossible anyway, given the obstacles provided by nature. Richard Conway falls for Catherine (Liv Ullmann), a pretty school teacher, Harry finds value in Shangri- La that allows him to reaffirm his self-worth and even Sally and Sam form an unlikely romantic bond. George Conway, meanwhile, becomes obsessed with Maria (Olivia Hussey), a beautiful young woman who is bored with living in paradise and longs for him to take her to London. Sam begins to woo a reluctant Sally and reawakens her romantic passions. Even Harry finds his confidence improving when he becomes an unlikely mentor to local children. Nevertheless, trouble brews when George pressures Richard to accompany him and Maria on a dangerous trek out of the Himalayas. Chang warns him that she is not who she appears to be: in fact, she is a very old woman and will revert to her actual age if she leaves Shangri-La. Needless, to say, his advice is ignored.
Perhaps this Lost Horizon could have been salvaged if the music and choreography were up to expectations, but everyone was asleep at the wheel. The Bacharach/David score contains plenty of musical numbers, but the best of them are simply bland and the worst are laughable. Hermes Pan's direction of the dance sequences is also surprisingly inept, especially a ludicrous fertility dance that resembles one of those big luau parties held every other night at Hawaiian hotels for the tourist crowds. (The sequence was understandably cut from the original release but has been restored for the video edition.) In one weird number, Liv Ullmann leads a parade of school kids who saunter about with their arms swinging back and forth as though they were auditioning for a Planet of the Apes sequel. Most of the vocals by the leading actors were dubbed (very well, in fact) and a few of the songs are bland, but pleasing given the context of the scenes they appear in. The main problem is that, for all the money spent on this lavish production, the movie simply has no heart. Unlike the original, the film never engages you on an emotional level. The Finch and York characters emerge as the most believable and their performances are the most impressive. The opening sequence, as the protagonists attempt to make a desperate escape from the besieged airport, is the best sequence in the film. It's only when they start tossing in those musical numbers that things go downhill fast. We do get to see Sally Kellerman perform her own musical numbers, but one of them-set in a library- is so embarrassingly staged that it makes for unintentional laughter. We also learn that Olivia Hussey is quite the dancer, performing an exotic number quite impressively but it somehow seems to be one of those titillating numbers that preceded a strip show I once saw in a Hong Kong sleaze joint. Most disappointing is what should have been the emotional climax of the film- the death of her character as she ages dramatically in a matter of moments after leaving Shangri La. In the original film, it's a harrowing and riveting sequence that precedes the story's moving last sequence as Richard Conway's colleagues in a London club toast his mysterious fate as we watch him attempt (presumably successfully) to return across the mountains to his lost paradise. In the remake, these scenes fall flat and never engage the viewers as meaningfully as they should. Most of the blame must be placed on the shoulders of director Charles Jarrott, who never seems to capture the human side of the story because he has to deal with the circus-like logistics of the musical aspects of the production. Charles Boyer and John Gielgud acquit themselves well enough, but there is something inherently distasteful about watching yet another major film in which Asian characters are portrayed by Caucasian actors.
Having said all that, one must compliment Twilight Time on their first-rate presentation of this cinematic oddity. (Some of the features were previously released on Sony's initial restored DVD version of the film) The Blu-ray transfer is beautiful and does justice to Robert Surtees' impressive cinematography and there are some interesting extras, including an informative (and candid) assessment of the film by Julie Kirgo. There are also audio tracks of Burt Bacharach (no singer, he) warbling his work-in-process versions of the songs. Without the bloated visuals that accompany them on film, they actually come across a lot better. He would have been better to farm the tracks out to Dionne Warwick and walk away from the film production. (These songs are creatively played against a variety of interesting behind the scenes photos from the production.) There are also are variety of TV spots and a rather well-worn, faded vintage featurette that is interesting in the way that these mini-propaganda films generally prove to be. There is also a theatrical trailer and an alternate version of a love scene between Finch and Ullmann.
I recently discussed the film with Turner Classic Movies host Robert Osborne. He recalled being at the premiere and how everyone in the celebrity-packed audience seemed to know they were witnessing a disaster- except the producer, Ross Hunter (whose prestigious film career would come to an end with this film). Osborne said Hunter was strategically located at the back of the theater so he could accept congratulations from the attendees after the premiere. Osborne chuckled at the recollection of witnessing Merle Oberon climbing over seats to exit through a different door rather than have to face Hunter. If you view the film on Blu-ray, you won't have to indulge in such gymnastics. The film remains a major artistic debacle, but it should be seen, if for no other reason than to form your own conclusions. Time has a way of making bad movies sometimes look better. It's possible to appreciate the small pleasures Lost Horizon affords even if this won't ever be re-evaluated as an underrated classic.
Once again, Cinema Retro is proud to bring you behind the scenes on a world-class retro movie event.
By Matthew Field
It seemed only appropriate that Octopussy, the only James Bond film with a tenuous link to
Wimbledon, should be the theme of BondStars’ summer barbeque on the very day
Andy Murray became champion. (Octopussy
actor and former tennis player Vijay Amritraj was semi-finalist in the men’s
doubles in 1976!)
On a sweltering summer’s day, OCTOPUSSY AT 30, re-united cast and crew from the 13th
James Bond movie at Pinewood Studios where the movie was made back in 1982/83.
The day kicked off with a screening of the Blu-ray
master (kindly lent by Eon Productions) in Theatre 7. Director John Glen, assistant
director Anthony Waye and stars Maud Adams and Kristina Wayborn, were on hand
to introduce the film to fans at the sold out event. Glen told the audience that
Octopussy was his favourite pre-title
sequence along with The Spy Who Loved Me.
He also remarked with a smile how gorgeous his actresses were still look today
– and they certainly were!
A lineup of Bond royalty: Peter Lamont, Kristina Wayborn, John Glen, Maud Adams and Alan Tomkins. (Photo: copyright Matthew Field, All Rights Reserved.)
Later in the day guests were also joined by twins David
& Tony Meyer, Carole Ashby, Jeremy Bulloch, production designer Peter
Lamont and stunt arranger Paul Weston. Cinema Retro’s Dave Worrall, our very
own veteran tour guide, led guests around the studio, pointing out of
particular note, the entrance to the manor house which doubled for the British embassy
where 009 turns up dead with the Faberge egg in Berlin.
Well, Louis Jourdan couldn't make the event, but we've got the next best thing: Cinema Retro's Matthew Field, the thorn between two roses: Kristina Wayborn and Maud Adams.
Cinema Retro's Dave Worrall is still pondering why his relationship with this lovely lass never quite worked out! (Photo: copyright Matthew Field, All Rights Reserved.)
On stage the Meyer twins recalled the filmmakers first
approached them after John Glen had seen twins in France performing a knife-throwing
act. But the French duo had turned the film down on the grounds that jumping
off of trains wasn’t really their sort of thing! Maud Adams said how proud she
is to be associated with the Bond franchise while Kristina Wayborn recalled her
first day at the studios in 1982 where she met not James Bond in the Pinewood restaurant
– but Superman actor Christopher Reeve. Ipads and smart phones were running the
Murray match throughout the day and there was a huge cheer as the young Scot
secured the trophy while Kristina and Maud were being interviewed on stage.
Stuntman extraordinaire Paul Weston (center) can't resist monitoring the action at Wimbledon. Paul performed some of the most harrowing stunts in the film. (Photo: copyright Matthew Field, All Rights Reserved.)
A lineup of 007 greats: Alan Tomkins, John Glen and Peter Lamont. (Photo: copyright Matthew Field, All Rights Reserved.)
The Octopussy
theme ran throughout the day. Circus acts entertaining guests in the Pinewood
gardens during lunch while specially designed cupcakes were served with
afternoon tea. An Octopussy special
was put together by Mi6 Confidential Magazine to accompany the event featuring
many interviews and behind the scenes photographs from the personal archives of
those who worked on the film. Sir Roger Moore wrote a wonderful introduction to
the day also.
Yet another great day for 007 fans and a new “All Time
High†for BondStars!
MGM has released director Lewis Gilbert's 1964 film The 7th Dawn on DVD- albeit, through their new burn-to-DVD program. Gilbert discusses the movie in an exclusive interview with Matthew Field in Cinema Retro issue #18. The movie has long been on the "wanted" list of retro film fans who had to be satisfied with trying to catch it on periodic showings on Turner Classic Movies. This is a thoroughly engrossing, adult drama with an unusuial setting and story background. The movie begins on the final day of WWII and centers on three disparate friends: an American named Ferris (William Holden), a French woman, Dhana (Capucine) and a Malaysianm, Ng (Tetsuro Tamba) who have led guerilla forces against the Japanese occupation in Malaya. The three close friends a jubilant in victory, after having suffered from fighting in the jungle for extended periods. At the end of the war, Ng goes off to Moscow to pursue communist political training. The apolitical Ferris stays behind, with Malaya now under British occupation. He thrives as a local rubber plantation owner, and Dhana is his lover, despite her frustration with Ferris' womanizing. The story advances to 1953, with Malayans now impatient for independence from England, which is easing toward granting their demands, but at a snail's pace. Ng returns to Malaya to try to instigate communist-inspired violent uprisings. To his sympathizers, he is a freedom fighter. To the British, he is a terrorist and the most wanted man in the nation.
July
1973. The Gaumont, Southampton. If someone had whispered to the boy sitting in
that cinema waiting for Roger Moore’s debut performance as James Bond to unfurl
before his excited-beyond-measure eyes, that he would one day be seeing the man
himself within the walls of that same building...well, he’d probably scarcely
have believed it. His fascination with 007 would continue and thrive throughout
the ensuing years (indeed, he would catch The
Man With the Golden Gun, The Spy Who
Loved Me and Moonraker at the Gaumont
during their first run).
October
2012. The Mayflower, Southampton (formerly The Gaumont). The years have flown
by and that little lad, now sharing his 50th year with the cinematic
incarnation of his favourite fictional spy, is spending “An Afternoon with Sir
Roger Mooreâ€. It’s one of a small number of stage appearances (also taking in
Malvern, Kingston, Bournemouth, Bath, Basingstoke and Norwich) that give the
legendary actor an opportunity to promote his new book, “Bond on Bondâ€, and
share his captivating memories of over six decades working in the entertainment
industry.
The
pleasantly informal show is presided over by Sir Roger’s assistant and friend
(not to mention “Cinema Retro†scribe) Gareth Owen – an endearing warmth
emanates from their jovial repartee – and Sir Roger proves to be not only a
natural raconteur, but a true gentleman, as his response to a question about an
actress with whom he didn’t get along so well testifies: “If you can’t say
something nice about someone, don’t say anything at all.â€
For the next couple of hours the packed auditorium is regaled with tales – from
his early days working in Hollywood to his most famous screen roles in The Saint, The Persuaders (his impression of co-star Tony Curtis is a delight)
and, of course, the James Bond films; from his glowing opinion of Daniel Craig’s
portrayal of 007 to his collaboration with Moonraker
co-star Irka Bochenko for the anniversary tribute single “Happy Birthday, Mr
Bondâ€; from his gleeful ribbing of Desmond Llewelyn over Q’s complicated
dialogue in the Bond films to his harrowing, often heart-breaking experiences
as an ambassador for UNICEF. Two hours has never passed so swiftly.
It’s
hardly a startling revelation that the boy so utterly beguiled by Live and Let Die back in 1973 was this
reviewer. And I’m sure my younger incarnation would have been thrilled to know
that one day his 40 odd years older self would have the chance to extend a
personal thank you to the man whose work has given countless hours of pleasure
to him and millions of others around the globe.
Sir Roger, you are one of the few remaining true gentlemen of the silver screen
and it was an incomparable privilege to spend time in your company.
RETRO-ACTIVE: THE BEST ARTICLES FROM CINEMA RETRO'S ARCHIVES
Bradford Dillman: A Compulsively Watchable
Actor
By Harvey Chartrand
In
a career that has spanned 43 years, Bradford Dillman accumulated more than 500
film and TV credits. The slim, handsome and patrician Dillman may have been the
busiest actor in Hollywood
during the late sixties and early seventies, working non-stop for years. In
1971 alone, Dillman starred in seven full-length feature films. And this
protean output doesn’t include guest appearances on six TV shows that
same year.
Yale-educated
Dillman first drew good notices in the early 1950s on the Broadway stage and in
live TV shows, such as Climax and Kraft Television Theatre. After
making theatrical history playing Edmund Tyrone in the first-ever production of
Eugene O’Neill’s Long Day’s Journey into Night in 1956, Dillman landed the role of blueblood psychopath Artie
Straus in the crime-and-punishment thriller Compulsion (1959), for which
he won a three-way Best Actor Prize at Cannes (sharing the award with co-stars
Dean Stockwell and Orson Welles).
On the And You Call Yourself a
Scientist! Web site, Dillman’s Artie Straus is described as “all brag and
bravado, contemptuous of everything but himself, with his
bridge-and-country-club parents, and his vaguely unwholesome relationship with
his mother.â€
In the early years of
his career, Dillman starred in several major motion pictures, picking and
choosing his roles carefully. He was featured in Jean Negulesco’s romance A
Certain Smile (1958) with Rossano Brazzi and Joan Fontaine; Philip Dunne’s
World War II drama In Love and War (1958) with Robert Wagner and Dana
Wynter; and Tony Richardson’s Sanctuary (1961) with Lee Remick and Yves
Montand, a rancid slice of Southern Gothic based on the novel by William
Faulkner.
Yet in the early sixties, Dillman started
taking any part that came along to support his growing family. From 1962 on, he
guest starred in dozens of TV series -- among them Espionage, Kraft
Suspense Theatre, Twelve O’Clock High, Shane, Felony Squad,
The Man from U.N.C.L.E., Marcus Welby, M.D., The Streets of San
Francisco, Bronk, How the West Was Won and FantasyIsland.
In 1975, Dillman won an Emmy Award for
Outstanding Actor in a Daytime Drama Special for his performance as Matt
Clifton in Last Bride of Salem (1974), an excellent tale of modern
witchcraft. The 90-minute Gothic horror movie aired on ABC Afternoon Playbreak and was so well received that it was
rebroadcast during primetime.
Over the years, Dillman appeared in scores
of made-for-TV movies and theatrical releases, such as Walter Grauman’s drama A
Rage to Live (1965) with the late Suzanne Pleshette; John Guillermin’s war
story The Bridge at Remagen (1969) with George Segal; Hy Averback’s satire
Suppose They Gave a War and Nobody Came (1970) starring Tony Curtis; and
Jud Taylor’s horror-thriller Revenge (1971), with Shelley Winters.
Dillman also played a psychiatrist who goes ape for Natalie Trundy in Don
Taylor’s Escape from the Planet of the Apes (1971) and a scientist battling
firestarting cockroaches in Jeannot Szwarc’s Bug (1975) — the final film
produced by legendary horror schlockmeister William Castle.
Dillman is
now 81. After retiring from acting in 1995, he took up a second career as a writer. He is excellent at his new avocation,
requiring no ghostwriters to tweak his prose. Dillman’s autobiography Are
You Anybody? is a series of amusing anecdotes about his Hollywood
years. He has also written a harrowing adventure tale entitled That Air
Forever Dark, set in Papua New Guinea
and Indonesia.
“It’s a terrifying account of the Jet Age meeting the Stone Age – Deliverance
in a jungle setting,†the actor-turned-author says.
Dillman’s latest book,
published in 2005 by Fithian Press, is a comedy of errors entitled Kissing Kate. “The novel is about an
amateur production of Kiss Me Kate,â€
Dillman relates. “An out-of-work professional actor is hired to play the male
lead opposite a wealthy community icon. Ultimately, of course, they end up
in bed together, where a ‘catastrophe’ occurs and all hell breaks loose. I
assure you that Kissing Kate is not in the least bit autobiographical!â€
Fifty-two years after
appearing on stage in O’Neill’s landmark theatrical event, Dillman is now a
playwright as well. His Seeds in the Wind
made its debut in May 2007 at the Rubicon Theatre Company in Ventura, California.
The play is set in 1939 in Santa Cruz,
California, during a weekend
celebrating the 40th birthday of a society hostess' daughter. The interaction
of the houseguests is both humorous and dramatic, and all manner of unexpected
events occur, Dillman assures us.
The
veteran performer spoke to Cinema Retro
from his home in Santa Barbara,
California.
Cinema
Retro: You achieved
international prominence in Richard Fleischer’s Compulsion, in which you
were unforgettable as the frightening and magnetic Artie Straus, a wealthy
law-school student on trial for murder in this taut
retelling of the infamous Leopold-Loeb case of the 1920s. You had been playing
romantic leads up until then, so this leap into villainy was quite a daring
career move on your part.
Bradford Dillman: I had a commitment to Twentieth Century Fox to do two pictures a
year and, as fate would have it, the timing of the filming of Compulsion coincided.
Nothing to do with the moguls’ belief that I had talent. It was just dumb luck,
pure and simple.
Compulsion (1959) with Dean Stockwell and Orson Welles
CR:
Following Compulsion, you were often cast in villainous roles. In 1964,
you co-starred with B-movie cult figure John Ashley (The Mad Doctor of Blood
Island) in an episode of Dr. Kildare with the intriguing title Night
of the Beast. What was that one about?
BD: I was the beast. I was such a bad guy I had my
thugs hold Kildare down while I raped his girlfriend in front of his very eyes.
When we came to the comeuppance scene, I learned that Richard Chamberlain had
obviously never been in a fistfight in his life. The stunt men couldn't teach
him how to throw a punch; I couldn't teach him. So we had a gentle comeuppance.
He's a nice, sensitive man who has since come out of the closet.
With Carol Lynley, Robert Vaughn and David McCallum in the Man From U.N.C.L.E. feature film The Helicopter Spies (1968)
CR: In 1967, you were the guest villain on The
Prince of Darkness Affair, a two-part episode of The Man from U.N.C.L.E,
later repackaged as a theatrical release – The Helicopter Spies (1968).
You were great fun as Luther Sebastian, the Third Way cult leader who steals a
rocket.Did you have any scenes with
lovely Lola Albright?
BD:The Helicopter Spies has disappeared in
the vortex of remaining brain cells. I don’t remember if I exchanged words with
Lola Albright.
MICHAEL MORIARTY, who starred in
such classic films as Who’ll Stop the
Rain and Pale Rider, exiled
himself to Canada in 1995, following a nasty confrontation with U.S. Attorney
General Janet Reno in a Washington, D.C. hotel room. Moriarty was invited along
with network television executives and producers to hear Reno’s views on censorship
of TV violence. Law and Order, one of
the least violent shows on television, was cited as a major offender. Incensed
by Reno's campaign to “forcibly end violence on television and trample on
rights of free expression as guaranteed in the U.S. Constitution,†Moriarty quit the series and left the U.S. in protest. He has
been a landed immigrant in Canada ever since. Why the fateful encounter
with Reno led to a radical (and seemingly
overnight) transformation of Moriarty’s political views from soft liberal to hard-core
conservative remains unexplained to this day. The onetime Manhattan über-liberal’s
sudden shift to “gun-toting†arch-conservatism proved to be too much to fathom for
his socialite wife Anne Hamilton Martin, and their seemingly ideal marriage
ended after almost 20 years.
Moriarty
was an up-and-comer in the early seventies. In 1973, he drew lavish praise for
his back-to-back performances as a baseball player who befriends a dying
teammate in Bang the Drum Slowly and as
a cold-blooded Marine Duty Officer in The
Last Detail. That same year, Moriarty starred in a TV-movie adaptation of Tennessee Williams' The Glass Menagerie with Katharine
Hepburn. Moriarty's role as the Gentleman Caller won him an Emmy Award
for Best Supporting Actor of the Year. Moriarty
then nabbed the 1974 Tony Award in the Best Actor category for his
role as a young London homosexual with a blistering razor-sharp tongue in Find
Your Way Home, beating out
heavyweight competitors Zero Mostel, George C. Scott, Jason Robards and Nicol
Williamson.
However,
Moriarty’s bid for big-screen stardom was a complete failure. In 1975, he was
cast as a rookie detective who unwittingly kills an undercover policewoman in
the Serpico-like drama Report to the Commissioner. The film (now
hailed as a masterpiece) was shredded by the critics, especially the
influential Pauline Kael of The New
Yorker, who dismissed Moriarty’s acting as unbridled hysteria. Roger Ebert
described Moriarty’s performance as manic: “During whole stretches of the
movie, (the rookie detective) seems to be in the grip of incomprehensible
tensions and fears, and Moriarty makes these so obvious we wonder why he isn’t
sent in for observation. Underplaying, providing
just the slightest suggestion of inner terrors, would have made the performance
more convincing.â€
By
necessity, Moriarty made the switch to television, appearing in series like The Equalizer with Edward Woodward and starring
as a GermanSS officer in the landmark
television miniseriesHolocaust, which won him another Emmy.
Moriarty was also unforgettable as an aggressive professional hockey player in The Deadliest Season, one of the
greatest TV-movies about hockey ever made.
Through
the 1980s, Moriarty started turning up in increasingly lurid fare such as Larry Cohen’s
Q:
The Winged Serpent, The Stuff, It's
Alive 3: Island of the Alive and A Return to Salem's Lot. In 1986, Moriarty
starred in the fantasy science-fiction movie Troll,
playing the role of Harry Potter, Sr.! In the decades since, these films have
all become cult classics. Moriarty is especially proud of his involvement in The Hanoi Hilton, a harrowing true story
about the ordeal of American prisoners of war in North Vietnam’s most infamous
prison during the Vietnam War.
Yet the role that Moriarty is still
best remembered for is that of Assistant District Attorney Ben Stone in the
first four seasons of Law and Order (1990-1994).
Stone is an essentially humorless man of unflinching rectitude who believes in
maximum enforcement of the law, but is open to plea bargaining if conditions
warrant.
“In early 1994,
I quit Law and Order and announced my
departure in the Hollywood Reporter
and Daily Variety,†Moriarty told Cinema Retro. “My employers, the
mainstream press and even Wikipedia
like to say that it was (executive producer) Dick Wolf who fired me and not the
other way ‘round. People say: ‘Oh, well, no one fires Dick Wolf!’ Well, I did. At any rate, I had become an
American dissident. I left for Canada not too long after that.â€
After shedding his
sleek Ben Stone persona, Moriarty moved to Toronto (and later Halifax and
Vancouver) and became a radically different person – some described his
behaviour as crazy or bipolar. At age 52, after a lifetime of discipline and
abstemiousness, Moriarty began drinking and smoking heavily. The years of hard
living were evident in the thickening of his features and a noticeable weight
gain. His smooth-as-velvet voice became raspy from the constant intake of
nicotine. The onetime exemplar of virtue on television even got into a few
scrapes with the law. He was thrown into a Halifax drunk tank in 1997. In
November 2000, Moriarty was arrested for assault after slapping his former
girlfriend and manager Margaret Brychka during a drunken argument in a
Vancouver bar. The charges were later dismissed in court.
The dark years passed and, through
rigid adherence to the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous and his abiding faith
in the Roman Catholic Church, Moriarty was able to lay his demons to rest. He
says he has been clean and sober since 2003.
“Canada’s
AA fraternity and their infinite faith in the power of God have brought me to a
calm and utterly sober joy in life I had never thought possible,†Moriarty
said.
Until 2006, Moriarty continued his
acting career from his home base in Maple Ridge, British Columbia, where he
lives with his lady friend Irene Mettler. Since relocating to Canada, the
former star of Law and Order appeared
in a steady stream of movies and TV shows, notably the hard-edged police drama Major Crime, Psi Factor: Chronicles of the Paranormal, Emily of New Moon, Crime of
the Century, Courage Under Fire, Children of the Dust (with Sidney
Poitier), The Arrow, Earthquake in New York, James Dean (Moriarty won an Emmy for
Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Miniseries or a Movie as Dean’s father), Taken (in the UFO TV mini-series
premiere episode directed by Tobe Hooper) and director Larry Cohen’s Pick Me Up episode of Masters of Horror.
Now
70, Moriarty is semi-retired from acting, mainly due to health concerns
following open-heart surgery and the lingering effects of serious injuries
sustained during a savage beating at a Maple Ridge tavern in 2002. Moriarty’s last
completed film to date is the still unreleased The Yellow Wallpaper, in which he plays a mysterious realtor.
Lensed in Georgia in 2006, The Yellow
Wallpaper is loosely based on the famous horror story by Charlotte Perkins
Gilman.
Sony has released director Wolfgang Petersen's masterpiece Das Boot as a magnificent 2 disc Blu-ray special edition. The film's power has only increased over the years. The movie shows the perils of WWII submarine warfare from the viewpoint of a German crew. The special edition is packed with new footage and special edition features. Here is the official press release from Sony:
Culver City, Calif. (March 29, 2011) –
Today, Sony Pictures Home Entertainment announced that they will unleash the harrowing
1981 epic World War II film, Das Boot,
for the first time on
Blu-ray on July 5, 2011 for the SLP of $34.95.Newly
remasteredfor high definition, the director’s cut of this prized
film adds 60 nail-biting minutes to the original version, which was nominated
in 1982 for six Academy Awards® including Best Director, Best
Cinematography, Best Effects/Sound Effects Editing and Best Sound. Also
included in the two-disc set is the original theatrical version of the film and
almost three hours of all-new Blu-ray exclusive special features, including a
retrospective documentary with Director Wolfgang Petersen.
The film follows
the lives of a fearless U-Boat captain Capt.-Lt.
Henrich Lehmann-Willenbrock (Jurgen Prochnow, The Da Vinci Code, Air Force
One) and his inexperienced crew as they become engulfed in the "Battle of the Atlantic"
during World War II.The crew confronts
the constant and paralyzing fear of the unknown enemy above in the
claustrophobic iron belly of a German U-boat. Variety likens the experience to “a descent into the pit of
hell.â€Director Wolfgang Petersen’s
close and focused shots meticulously capture the gritty reality of pursuing
rival ships from undersea in a blind environment, humid with sweat and rank
with the bitter scent of metal.
Masterfully
crafted by Petersen (Troy, Air Force One) and critically acclaimed
as one of the best war films of all time, Das
Boot is a masterpiece that should be part of every film enthusiast’s
collection.The two-disc Blu-ray is
tightly packed with special features including a retrospective documentary of
the making of the film, seven vignettes taking viewers on an intimate tour of a
German U-boat, two featurettes offering insights from wife and First Assistant
Director, Maria Petersen and a look into the making of the Director’s Cut,
historical material with footage detailing the evolution of submarine battles
during World War II and a director’s commentary.
Das Boot
Synopsis:
At the height of WWII, a young submarine crew heads out to
sea on a top-secret mission that all but ensures most will never make it home
alive. Ordered to patrol the Atlantic and destroy an allied armada bringing
supplies to Britain,
these raw recruits must band together, bracing themselves against a depth-charge
assault from an unseen enemy.Oscar ® -
nominated director Wolfgang Petersen’s epic adventure deftly explores tension
as pressure builds to an explosive climax, packing a visceral punch few movies
can match.
Once again, Cinema Retro has spoken- and the studios have listened. Well, at least it's beginning to seem that way. So many of the films we've been calling for them to release on DVD have been made available recently that we sometimes think we must have a magic lamp around here. For years, we've been after Fox to do something with the special features from their 1993 laser disc release of The Comancheros. In fact, in the latest issue of Cinema Retro (#20), writer Nick Anez provides a major analysis of the film- and we point out that it's a pity the laser disc special edition has never been released on DVD. Well, as soon as the article went to press, what shows up in our mailbox? You guessed it- a terrific Blu-ray special edition of the film that not only combines elements from the laser release, but also boasts some wonderful new features as well.
The 1961 film was the last of a three-picture deal John Wayne had inked with Fox in the late 50s. The first effort, The Barbarian and the Geisha, was a major dud, despite teaming the Duke with director John Huston (they hated each other, but that's another story). After Wayne went into hock to produce, direct and star in his 1960 epic The Alamo, he needed cash. Fortunately, the lucrative Fox contract afforded him two major hits: North to Alaska and The Comancheros. With the latter film, Wayne seemed to be comfortable in his middle-aged years and allowed younger co-star Stuart Whitman to have all the love scenes with female lead Ina Blain. The film represents the last movie to be directed by the great Michael Curtiz. When he fell ill during production, Wayne ended up directing about half of the film, though out of respect for Curtiz, he never took a screen credit.
We were saddened to hear that our friends at Movie Grooves, one of the UK's best sources for rare film soundtracks, is going out of business. There are precious few companies that specialize in film scores and Movie Grooves proved to be a terrific source for retro film fans worldwide. We wish them the best. Here is the statement sent by E mail from Movie Grooves:
We're sorry to announce that Movie Grooves will shortly
be closing down - for ever.
IMPORTANT: All pending
orders will be fulfilled before we close.
Please don't cancel any pending
orders or payments. We know that some of you are waiting for Tootsie and Outland
(and items you may have ordered whilst ordering those) and they WILL be sent to
you in due course. Tootsie and Outland are being held by our overseas supplier
and will be shipped to us shortly.
We will no longer be stocking or
taking pre-orders on any new or forthcoming releases or back catalogue items and
we are no longer selling any items full stop (or period, as
they say in the USA).
Movie Grooves is closing because I feel that it's
time for me to move on and do something different with my life. The business has
changed slightly to when I started out and, of course, the global financial
situation - whilst not being a direct reason for closing down - has affected
trading conditions and contributed to me making the decision to close. Yes,
there's a sadness at closing, but I know it's the right decision so I also have
an excitement at what possibilities the future holds (schmaltzy, but
true).
I've had a great eight years or so running Movie Grooves. Movie
Grooves was something that had its gestation years and years ago with my love of
60s and 70s horror, cult and b-movies which then got me into the soundtracks
from those movies which then developed into a successful business during which
time I had the pleasure to meet some great people, gain some new friends and
also attend some fantastic related events. I even had a crack at DJing a few
times in clubs and also on the radio (thanks Jonny!) which was so much fun. I
also had the experience of running a successful business selling products I
loved and that provided a service to many like-minded and friendly people all
around the world.
I hope that I offered a good level of service -
something that was high on my list of priorities when starting out. And I hope
that every customer took pleasure from the CDs and LPs (and DVDs) that they
purchased from Movie Grooves over the years.
Many thanks to each and
every customer for your business and especially to the loyal band of regulars
(you know who you are!) - thanks!
All that's left to say is that as a
final send-off I'll be playing a selection of my favourite soundtrack/library
tracks on Jonny Trunk's 'OST' Radio show on Resonance FM on Saturday 25th
September from 4.30pm - 6.30pm UK time. I may be having a few drinks throughout,
hopefully lots of laughs and perhaps at points even crying like a small child so
it could be quite a funny/harrowing/interesting listen.
If you live in
London you can listen on 104.4 FM or if you live elsewhere on the planet and
have an internet connection you can listen live at http://resonancefm.com/listen - put it in your diary
now!
For old times sake I'll probably be running a silly competition so
you could even win a few CDs, LPs or DVDs.
VCI Entertainment has released a 2 DVD set celebrating the 70th anniversary of the Buck Rogers serials starring Buster Crabbe. Here are some details from the official press release:
SYNOPSIS: Preserved in a state of suspended animation
for 500 years by the Nirvano gas in the gondola of their dirigible
wrecked in the arctic ice wastes, Buck Rogers (Buster Crabbe) and Buddy
(Jackie Moran) are rescued by scientists in the year 2500 to find the
world under the despotic rule of Killer Kane (Anthony Warde) and his
super gangsters.
Using an arsenal of fantastic weapons created in Dr. Huer's (C.
Montague Shaw) clandestine laboratory, the group attempts to seek aid
from the planet Saturn to oust the tyrannical ruler only to find that
his henchmen have already taken over control of the Prince of Saturn.
After several harrowing adventures with the Zugg men, Buck and Buddy
return to Earth only to be shot down, imprisoned and finally rescued to
participate in a spectacular air battle to wrest control of the
Universe from the sinister intergalactic despot.
Digitally restored and remastered from the original 35mm negative.
BONUS FEATURES:
Original Theatrical Trailer
Photo Gallery
Liner Notes by author Hank Davis
“The History of Buck Rogers†by Clifford Weimer
Rare 1933 Buck Rogers short
Buster Crabbe The All-American Hero (movie clips and highlights from
Buster’s hollywood career - the only actor who played Tarzan, Flash
Gordon and Buck Rogers -- the top three comic strip heroes of the 1930s)
Buck Rogers - 80th Anniversary Panel Discussion from the 2009 San Diego Comic Con
The evening's surprise guest star David McCallum joins Robert Vaughn in acceding to Cinema Retro editor-in-chief Lee Pfeiffer's humorous demand that they sign his grade school Man From U.N.C.L.E. lunchbox. (Photo copyright: Tom Stroud)
By Lee Pfeiffer
Last evening, The Players club at Gramercy Park in New York City, in conjunction with Cinema Retro magazine, hosted a gala tribute dinner for member Robert Vaughn. The club dates back to 1888, when it was founded by actor Edwin Booth along with such luminaries as Mark Twain and General Sherman. The rich heritage continued with last evening's event. As Editor-in-Chief of Cinema Retro and a member of The Players, I had long wanted to hold an event in honor of Vaughn's career. Club Executive Director John Martello and I began planning the evening months ago, working around Vaughn's schedule for filming his hit TV series Hustle in England. The catalyst was the recent publication of Vaughn's acclaimed autobiography A Fortunate Life. Vaughn chose November 22 because of the date's significance in his life: it was his 77th birthday, the anniversary of the assassination of his political idol John F. Kennedy and also the date production began on The Man From U.N.C.L.E. 46 years ago.
Perhaps the most challenging aspect was the remarkable compilation of video clips assembled by John Martello and his editor. Rare videos from the Cinema Retro archive were contributed, but there were still key clips that seemed be impossible to find: Vaughn playing young Teddy Roosevelt in an obscure Western TV episode called Law of the Plainsman, his performance as Harry S. Truman in the 1974 TV special The Man From Independence and his Emmy-winning role as the political hatchet man in the 1977 mini-series Washington: Behind Closed Doors. With Vaughn's personal assistance, clips were obtained from fans, TV networks and museums. The resulting 25 minute compilation gave ample evidence of Vaughn's diverse talents.
Roman
Polanski wasted no time moving out of the more repressive artistic environment
of Iron Curtain Poland after the success of his first feature film (Knife in the Water, 1962—released in the
West in ’63).The director went to the
U.K., where he made his first English language picture, the 1965 classic horror
film Repulsion.It is surely one of the creepiest—if not the
scariest—movies ever made.A young
Catherine Deneuve stars as a mentally disturbed woman staying alone in her
sister’s apartment for the weekend.Needless to say, her imagination runs loose and gets the better of her.Before long, she’s murdering anyone who comes
to the door and dumping bodies in the bathtub.
Ultimately,
the subtext here is sexual child abuse.It’s not blatant, but the clues are there—Deneuve’s character is frigid,
shrinks away from any thought of sex or even intimacy with the man who is
supposed to be her boyfriend, and hallucinates being assaulted by a shadowy
older man who seems to invade her bedroom from a secret door in the wall.When released in 1965, the UK slammed it with
an “X†certificate. The U.S. ad campaign warned that the film was strictly for
mature audiences.They were correct in
doing so…this is heavy, scary stuff.Harrowing and frightening, Repulsion
established Polanski as a visionary director of the macabre; it’s easily
one of his best pictures.Some films
merely scare you—this one haunts you for a long time after viewing it.
Repulsion has been released by dubious studios
over the years on VHS and DVD, and none of these earlier editions are much
good.The video quality has always been
sub-par and the audio no better.The red
carpet label Criterion Collection finally acquired the rights and restored the
film to a crisp, clear, and magnificent high definition black and white
splendor (approved by Polanski)—it’s as if you’re seeing the picture for the
first time (it’s a must-purchase item for this reason alone).Additionally, the audio no longer sounds
muddy as it did on previous releases.In
short, Criterion’s new edition is near-perfect.Extras include a commentary by Polanski and Deneuve; a documentary on
the making of the film featuring interviews with the director and others; a
vintage documentary from 1964 on the set of the film; original theatrical
trailers; and a multi-page booklet.
Available
in both DVD and Blu-Ray.Highly
recommended!
.
CLICK HERE TO WATCH THE TRAILER AND TO ORDER DISCOUNTED DVD EDITION FROM AMAZON
CLICK HERE TO ORDER DISCOUNTED BLU-RAY EDITION FROM AMAZON
Cinema Retro publishers Lee Pfeiffer and Dave Worrall attended the Bradford International Film Festival in Bradford, England last week. Here is Lee Pfeiffer's first report:
For many years, we had heard about the exciting events that take place at the annual Bradford International Film Festival. The festival is held at the National Media Museum, which is a state-of-the-art showcase for the history of British film, TV, photography and new media. Over the last fifteen years, the festival has hosted world premieres, classic film screenings and internationally acclaimed interview sessions with actors and filmmakers. Although the festival has proven to be a popular attraction, Bradford's distance from London (several hours north) has kept many movie fans from attending. As most of our dealings are generally in London, we fall into that category ourselves.However, we learned that passing up on this festival is a major faux pas on
behalf of any serious movie lover. This year, we opted to attend one of the festival's most popular events, the Widescreen Weekend during which classic movies are screened in their original 70mm and Cinerama versions on the giant curved screen. The bait that lured us to attend was the fact that Cinema Retro had been asked to sponsor a rare 70mm screening of Where Eagles Dare. Since our readers know we're preparing a special edition of the magazine devoted exclusively to this Richard Burton-Clint Eastwood classic, it was an offer we couldn't refuse. For many years we had heard about this wonderful gathering of dedicated movie lovers and we had to wonder why it took until the 15th anniversary of the festival to finally attend.Â
I took a red-eye flight from Newark and landed in Heathrow last Thursday morning. It took over four hours for us to drive up to Bradford and settle in at The Midland Hotel, an old world venue that was rich in atmosphere. The hotel is a sponsor of the festival and we soon learned that the majority of attendees stay here so they can socialize at the pub and discuss the events of the day. This notion was reinforced when, after checking in, we stopped at the hotel pub for the first pint of the day, only to be introduced to David Strohmaier and Randy Gitsch the two most noted scholars on the Cinerama process and the creators of the fantastic documentary Cinerama Adventure. This is truly one of the greatest documentaries about classic filmmaking that has ever been conceived - an exhaustive and highly entertaining look at the short-lived but wonderful Cinerama process. Their documentary appears on MGM's recent deluxe DVD edition of How the West Was Won. Dave and Randy were with Tom March, who had scouted and documented the locations for that film as they appear today. (More about that later). Tom was also personally sponsoring the festival's big screen showing of Khartoum. (Talk about a true humanitarian!).We immediately fell into a prolonged discussion of classic filmmaking - a past-time that would be repeated every evening during our stay in Bradford.
Although the Widescreen Weekend had officially kicked off this day with a screening of The King and I, our first and only event on the day was to attend a separate event: producer Michael G. Wilson's "Master Class" on the making of James Bond movies which was held - appropriately enough - in the Museum's Cubby Broccoli Theatre. Wilson and Eon Productions have long been patrons of the Museum and the film festival, but this was his first participation in an actual event. Tony Earnshaw, the Artistic Director of the Museum, had tried for years to convince Wilson to sit down for a one-on-one interview, but the typically modest Wilson had to be convinced there was actually interest among the movie-going public to hear a discussion about the inner-workings of the Bond films. The rapt attention of the audience would immediately nullify those concerns.
Michael G. Wilson interviewed by Tony Earnshaw. (Photo copyright Jim Moran)
Earnshaw proved to be a most adept interviewer: every question was appropriate and intelligent (something I wish I could say for many chat show hosts on TV and radio). The program began with an amusing montage of all the cameo appearances Wilson has made in the Bond films over the decades. The Hitchcockian touch is considered a good luck charm by the cast and crew. Wilson is not known for being overly-verbose and tonight was no exception. However, he was comfortable, relaxed and in good spirits - and he spoke about the making of the Bond films with refreshing candor. Wilson related how he had been happily pursuing a career in law when the increasing legal difficulties between his stepfather Cubby Broccoli and his production partner necessitated his move into the Eon offices in order to work on legal matters. After Broccoli and Saltzman split, Cubby convinced Wilson to stay on and groomed him in the fine art of movie producing. He also noted that Wilson had a creative streak when it came to coming up with concepts for specific sequences in the films. Before long, Wilson was co-authoring scripts with long-time franchise screenwriter Richard Maibaum.Wilson related some amusing and occasionally harrowing stories from his early days on the series. He had seen a liquor ad with stuntman Rick Sylvester skiing off the face of a mountain and felt it should be used as the pre-credits sequence for The Spy Who Loved Me. It was only after Sylvester had been formally hired and the stunt budgeted and planned for, that Wilson learned the ski stunt never happened - it was all done with trick photography. Nevertheless, Sylvester assured Wilson that he could indeed do the stunt, if the crew were to film in a remote mountainous region of Canada where conditions were appropriate. The led to near disaster, as the cost of bringing a full crew to such an inhospitable area caused the budget to soar. The weather had to be perfect to enact the stunt, but nature wouldn't cooperate and the crew burned up $250,000 (a huge sum in 1976) with nary a single frame of film to show for it. Nervous United Artists executives demanded the unit return home - which probably would have put an end to Wilson's fledgling career as a future producer. However, in dramatic Hollywood fashion, there was a brief break in the weather and Sylvester managed to carry off the stunt. The idea of adding the Union Jack to Bond's parachute was literally done at the last minute to bring some levity to the sequence. Wilson revealed that, to this day, such late-in-the-day brainstorms are often incorporated into the films.
Wilson acknowledged that the production of each film is a frantic period and that Eon delivers the finished movie to the studio with relatively little wiggle room to make changes. He said this actually works in Eon's favor because it precludes studio brass from ordering wide-ranging alterations to the films, as there simply isn't enough time to enact them. On the other side of the coin, he expressed frustration that the tight deadlines have compromised Eon's influence over the title song. He said that in the past, the composer of the song worked in consultation with the filmmaking team. In recent years, however, Eon had little or no say over the song, which has been delivered so late in the process that the producers have to accept whatever is delivered. (Although Wilson did not mention any specific song titles, one would not be going out on a limb to assume it includes the dreadful Another Way to Die from Quantum Of Solace.) Wilson also explained why Eon tends to use writers and technicians who are veterans of the series. He said it is very time consuming to bring on new talent and wait for them to assimilate into understanding Eon's methods, as well as comprehend the company's philosophies of how the Bond character should be presented. He also said that he doesn't let fan or media bias deter his creative instincts. He acknowledged it was frustrating to read the widespread campaign against Daniel Craig after he was signed as Bond, but never wavered in his belief that the end result would be that the public and critics would embrace him. At the end of the session, Wilson took questions from the audience - which is often a recipe for disaster at fan events because seemingly every eccentric within ten miles is drawn to the microphone like a moth to a flame. However, in our first indication that Bradford draws serious and mature film fans, every question asked was appropriate and interesting. One in particular hit the mark when someone asked Wilson why he allowed the action sequences in Quantum to be edited with so many fast cuts that it robbed the scenes of any suspense. Wilson acknowledged that they were attempting to please modern audiences who are used to that style of editing but did not outwardly endorse the style. He said that Eon always experiments with different filmmaking styles that the director may favor - and that by the time the first edit is done, there is precious little time to make radical changes.The only news Wilson broke about the next Bond film is that there is no news at all. He said there had been no significant work done on the next entry.
At the end of the session, Wilson graciously stayed on to chat informally with fans and sign autographs. Although we've known Michael for many years on a personal basis, this was an enjoyable and rare opportunity for us to hear him discuss aspects of his career that we had not been aware of. More importantly, this highly enjoyable evening served as a teaser for the great weekend events that were to follow.
In 1971, 20th
Century-Fox scored a huge commercial and critical hit with The French Connection,
a hard-boiled thriller about the largest heroin bust in New York City’s history. Directed by William
Friedkin and starring Gene Hackman as Det. Eddie “Popeye†Doyle, the picture
presented a gritty, but idealized portrait of the police at work. In 1972,
wanting to capitalize on the picture’s success, Fox decided to produce a
sequel, a continuation of Doyle’s pursuit of Alain Charnier (Fernando Rey), the
French drug lord who eludes capture at the end of Friedkin’s film. The studio decided to have the picture
shot in Marseilles, a port city in the south of France where
heroin production thrived in the early Seventies. Friedkin, however, was
uninterested in working on a sequel and so the chiefs at Fox approached John
Frankenheimer, who had lived in France
and spoke the language fluently. Although Frankenheimer had enjoyed a great
deal of success in the Sixties with pictures like The Manchurian Candidate, Seven
Days in May and Grand Prix,
nearly a decade had passed since he’d scored a box office hit. The opportunity
to work on a high-budget picture of this sort aroused his interest and he
accepted the offer.
The original script for French Connection II was prepared by
Robert Dillon, whose previous credits included, most notably, Roger Corman’s X: The Man with the X-Ray Eyes.  Once production commenced in the summer of
1974, however, Frankenheimer decided that he needed to have his script
re-worked. For the job, he recruited the novelist Pete Hamill, who’d actually known
Eddie Egan, the New York City
police detective upon whom Hackman’s character Popeye Doyle was based. In 2006,
Hamill recalled his involvement in the project:
[When Frankenheimer] called me from Marseilles, asking me to help, I said I would
try to get there within two days. "Why not one?" he said, and laughed
nervously. I never asked why he called me. Someone hand-delivered a script to
my place in New York
and I read it on the plane.
      John, at that
time, had a major problem. He had already shot nine days of the existing script.
He had developed a reputation for going over budget, so had no flexibility. He
couldn't re-shoot what was already in the can.
      That gave me a
problem too, since I had to write around the existing pieces, which, as always,
had been shot out of order. It was like working on a jigsaw puzzle. The basic
problem was that Hackman, a great movie actor, had nothing to act. And the
reason for that was that Roy Scheider was not in the sequel, and Hackman had
nobody to bounce his lines off. He would never talk to a French cop the way he
talked to Scheider in the Billy Friedkin original.
       ….My
first work was on the following day's pages, trying to make the character sound
like Popeye Doyle….Within a day-and-a-half  (with naps in between) I had
written enough for them to keep shooting for six or seven days….Hackman was
ecstatic. He had something to act!
French Connection II begins shortly after the first film ends, with Doyle arriving in France on April
Fool’s Day. As the only person who can identify Charnier, Doyle has been sent
by his supervisors to assist the Marseilles
police as they search for the elusive kingpin. Vulgar and loud, Doyle alienates
himself quickly from his counterparts in Marseilles,
a group of “narcs†led by the level-headed Henri Barthelmy (Bernard Fresson).
Annoyed by Barthelmy’s cautious approach to law enforcement, Doyle soon sets
out on his own. In his porkpie hat and Hawaiian shirts, he cuts a clownish
figure on the foreign city’s streets and he is quickly spotted and subsequently
abducted by Charnier’s men. Imprisoning him in a slum hotel for three weeks,
Charnier injects Doyle with heroin, with the hope that this will loosen his
lips. The tactic breaks the detective, transforming him into a helpless addict.
But it doesn’t yield any helpful information and Charnier returns the captive
to the police. As he explains to Doyle, just before he frees him: “We
take you back, Doyle, to your friends. They are looking for you everywhere and
making it difficult for me to operate.â€Â
Renewal invariably follows
demoralization in many of Frankenheimer’s pictures and the same happens here.
Forced by Barthelmy to quit his addiction “cold turkey,†Doyle suffers
horribly, bursting into tears at one point. But he makes it through and sets
out on his own to locate the hotel where he was kept prisoner. Once he finds
it, he sets the building on fire and snags one of Charnier’s men. The goon
provides information which eventually leads Doyle and his French counterparts
to the lab where Charnier’s people process heroin. Charnier rushes off, though,
as the police close in, just as he did in the first movie. But Doyle, weak and
limping, runs after him and a chase commences through the congested city,
ending when the detective spots his adversary sailing out of the harbor on a
yacht. Drawing his gun from the holster he wears on his ankle, Doyle fires two
shots into Charnier’s chest, presumably killing him. But Frankenheimer closes
the movie at this point, denying his viewers a denouement of any sort, leaving
open the possibility that the pursuit may continue in the future.
 French Connection II is an
often harrowing examination of the dangers that result when people flout the
law for personal gain. Charnier, of course, may be the most offensive example
of this criminal self-centeredness. A bon vivant, he uses the money he earns
from his drugs business to make his life exceedingly comfortable, spending it
on fine clothes, hunting trips and beautiful women. His success, however, rests
upon a willingness to exploit human weakness, a great sin in itself. Yet, as
Frankenheimer shows us, it also has a terrible, imitative effect, breeding a
culture of addicts and thieves who, like Charnier, seize upon the weak. Such is
the case with an old woman in the hotel, who steals Doyle’s watch. The problem
not only transcends gender, age and nationality, but occupation, too. A sleazy
U.S. Army general (Ed Lauter) is one of Charnier’s collaborators.
Though Doyle has no apparent
interest in financial gain, he is similarly guilty of flouting the law for
private reasons, sidestepping civil liberties and human rights when they
interfere with his pursuit. To some degree, this brutal approach is effective,
leading him and Barthelmy to Charnier’s heroin. But it is also ugly. Early in
the film, for instance, Doyle amuses himself as he explains to a suspect:
I’m going to work on your arms. I’ll
set ’em over a curb. And I’m going to use them for a trampoline. I’m going to
jump up and down on them. Right? Then your kneecaps. One. Two. Kneecaps.
Oatmeal. I’m going to make oatmeal out of your…kneecaps. And when I get done
with you, you are going to put me right in Charnier’s lap.
Like the first French Connection,
Frankenheimer’s picture is a “police procedural,†a film that traces the
efforts of law enforcement officials as they conduct an investigation. In the
middle of this movie, however, the director breaks from the genre’s most
important convention by halting the detective hero’s pursuit, confining him
first to the cell-like room of the hotel and then the basement jail of the
Marseille police station. Some critics have maligned this turn in the
narrative. Roger Ebert, in his 1975 review, complained that it brings “the
movie to a standstill. The plot, the pursuit, the quarry, are all forgotten
during Hackman’s one-man show, and it’s a flaw the movie doesn’t overcome.â€
These sequences do slow the story’s pace a bit, but they nevertheless
serve an important thematic function. In many of Frankenheimer’s films, extreme
suffering gives rise to important changes in his protagonists’ personalities.
For Doyle, the dialectal torture of addiction and withdrawal restores the drive
and commitment that characterized his pursuit of Charnier in the first film.
During the first third of French Connection II, that is, Doyle is
distracted and ineffectual, spending much of his time drinking, carousing and
picking fights with the people who can help him. But following the experience
with heroin, he returns to the dirty Marseilles
streets single-minded, not only avoiding drink and women, but working closely
with Barthelmy. He may or may not capture Charnier—we aren’t allowed to
know—but he certainly scores his revenge, besting him with the two bullets he
fires into his chest.Â
Though French Connection II is one of
the bleakest pictures Frankenheimer made, it is also one of the most thrilling,
thanks to spectacular sequences like the burning of the slum hotel and the
final chase, when Doyle runs after Charnier along the Marseilles harbor. The director realized that
the exaggerated quality of these scenes could arouse disbelief and thus he
tried to make them seem as authentic as possible. He explains on the commentary
he recorded for the film’s DVD release:
The key to doing a movie like this is to make every incident,
every moment of the movie as real and believable as you can. Once you, the
audience, feel betrayed by me, once you feel out of the movie, once you
feel, ‘Oh these are only actors and this
is fake and this doesn’t look right,’ then the movie’s over for you, then
everything that happens after that doesn’t work. But if I can keep you involved
and keep you believing this looks rights this looks real, then I’m doing my
job. And that goes for the costumes, that goes for the sets, that goes for the
extra that’s way in the back of the room. One little thing that’s not right can
turn you off the whole movie.
When French Connection II opened
in the spring of 1975, the reviews it received were generally favorable and its
performance at the box office was strong. The
New York Times’ Vincent Canby, for instance, wrote:
"The concerns of “French Connection IIâ€
are not much different from those of
old Saturday-afternoon movie serials that used to place their supermen in jeopardy and then
figure ways of getting them out. The difference is in  the quality of the supermen and in
their predicaments.Popeye
is a colorful and interesting — though hardly noble — character, and when the Marseilles drug people
kidnap him, forcibly create a heroin habit in him, and then release him, you
have a very special kind of jeopardy that the film and Mr. Hackman exploit most
effectively. The perverse intensity and the anguish in these sequences recall some
of Mr. Frankenheimer's best work in “The Manchurian Candidateâ€.
Â
Stephen B. Armstrong teaches writing at Dixie State College in St. George, Utah.
He is the author of Pictures About Extremes: The Films of John Frankenheimer
(McFarland, 2008).Click here to order from Amazon.
Intrada has released composer Jerry Fielding's score for the Charles Bronson western Chato's Land on CD. The release is limited to only 1500 units. This is the first soundtrack to be made available from the 1972 film directed by Michael Winner. Here is the official press info:
World premiere release of complete Jerry Fielding 1972 original
soundtrack from Michael Winner pursuit & revenge western with
Charles Bronson, Jack Palance. Fielding responds to savage tale with
intense strings, blazing brass, harrowing percussion. Blistering
landscape of story inspires plethora of subtle percussion figures,
demanding woodwind solos while fierce violence incites vicious brass
motifs, dollops of thundering snare, bass drum. Fielding divides time
between imposing flamenco-ish main melody & ever-winding secondary
menace melody. Two themes jockey for supremacy throughout score like
movie's on-screen adversaries. In stroke of brilliance, Fielding
declares landscape the final winner, closes not with either melody but
with ferocious display of percussion instead. Impressive highlight:
"Titles" bookends with florid trumpet statement of main theme,
spotlights twisting woodwind variants in between. Another rousing
highlight: Building rhythm of "Indian Rodeo" becomes wild display for
virtuoso French horn, trombone & trumpet. Entire score presented
for first time from MGM master elements in stereo. Dynamic recording
made by Richard Lewzey at CTS Studios in London. Colorful graphics,
notes from Winner/Fielding authority Nick Redman complete package.
Jerry Fielding conducts. Special Collection release limited to 1500
copies! - Douglass Fake, Intrada producer
1. Titles (4:38)
2. Peeping Tom in the Bushes (0:42)
3. Mind Your Ma; Whiskey and Hot Sun (1:26)
4. Coop Falls (1:22)
5. Pain in the Water Bags; Burning Rancheros 1 & 2 (4:44)
6. Peeping Tom on the Ridge; First Stampede (3:01)
7. Indian Convention (1:32)
8. The Snake Bite (1:18)
9. Chato Comes Home (1:50)
10. Indian Rodeo; Chato Bags Horse (2:18)
11. Junior Blows the Whistle (0:39)
12. Fire and Stampede; Joan of Arc at Stake (3:52)
13. Mr. & Mrs. Chato Split; Massas in the Cold Cold Ground (1:24)
14. Hot Pants (2:43)
15. Rainbow on the Range (0:55)
16. Ride Like Hell (0:48)
17. Big Stare Job; Here-There-Everywhere (2:16)
18. Attack in Gorge (1:51)
19. One Big Pain in the Neck (2:33)
20. Lansing Scalped (1:43)
21. Elias Gets the Snake; Malechie Gets Shot; Finis (5:02)
Cinema Retro's Dean Brierly takes a look at an offbeat Japanese film series new to DVD.
As film attendance in the United States declined dramatically
in the 1950s due to television’s increasing popularity, the Hollywood Empire
struck back with a wave of widescreen Technicolor spectaculars to lure
audiences back into theaters. When a similar small vs. big screen scenario
played out in Japan in the late sixties and early seventies, major studios like
Nikkatsu, Daiei and Toei staved off financial disaster by co-opting the “pink
film,†a type of softcore porn previously the domain of small, independent
studios. The big outfits raised the pink film into the mainstream via higher
production values, compelling narratives and superior direction, a formula that
proved potent both from a commercial and critical perspective.
Original Japanese poster for Quick Draw Okatsu (Photo: Dean Brierly collection)
From the pink film was spawned a wild subgenre that came to
be known as “pinky violence,†in which studios amped up the sex and violence
quotient of the female swordplay, women in prison and girl gang film. All
featured tough, independent heroines equally comfortable wielding their
sexuality as meting out lethal retribution. These highly stylized films
brilliantly walked a mind-bending tightrope between sleazy exploitation and
female empowerment. There are few equivalents to these kinds of films in
Western cinema, outside of such early seventies Pam Grier vehicles like Coffy
and Foxy Brown. The pinky violence influence also lives on in such
Quentin Tarantino epics as Kill Bill and Death Proof.
Toei’s late-sixties “Legends of the Poisonous Seductressâ€
trilogy, recently brought to DVD by Synapse Films (in association with Panik
House Entertainment), was in the vanguard of the pinky violence movement.
Although not as sexually explicit as later films in the genre, they did boast a
more intense eroticism than Japanese audiences were used to, along with
head-turning doses of ultra-gory violence. And while most pinky violence films
were set in contemporary Japan, the Poisonous Seductress trilogy unfolds during
the Sengoku, or warring states period (between the 15th to 17th centuries),
familiar to viewers of such Kurosawa epics as Seven Samurai. The period
setting, with its political context of intrigue and upheaval, contributes to
the films’ unique atmosphere and provides a down-to-earth contrast to their
over-the-top visual aesthetic.
Director John Boorman's 1972 classic Deliverance gets a deluxe release from Warner Brothers, and it's sure to please patient fans who have had to subside on the skimpy standard edition that has been on the market. The film is based on poet James Dickey's first novel, a harrowing tale of four buddies from Atlanta who decide to take a weekend canoe trip down a remote Georgia river that is being diverted and will flood nearby towns into extinction. They're a disparate group: Ed (Jon Voight) is the down-to-earth, practical guy who is everyone's best friend; Lewis (Burt Reynolds) is an egotistical survivalist who constantly thrives on being physically superior to his friends; Drew (Ronny Cox) is a quiet, deep thinker and Bobby (Ned Beatty) is the complete fish-out-of-water - a timid, overweight man trying desperately to be accepted as one of the boys. The "fun" weekend starts off on an ominous note as the men witness the sad sight of entire communities about to be disrupted and physically moved. They also begin to carp among each other as Lewis continues to pick on those he feels are not his equals. The plot takes an unexpected and terrifying turn, however, when Ed and Bobby encounter two red neck mountain men who have sex and murder on their minds. This development leads to consequences that are both physically and mentally devastating to everyone involved.
Looking for a chill during the dog days of summer? Check out
the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s delicious quartet of Roman Polanski
thrillers: Summer Chills: Four by Roman Polanski. Screening Monday, July
30, and Wednesday, Aug. 1, at the Walter Reade Theater at LincolnCenter in New York. The series features the acclaimed
director’s cult favorite The Fearless Vampire Killers (1967) and all
three classics in what some commentators have labeled the Apartment Trilogy:
Repulsion (1965), Rosemary’s Baby (1968), and The Tenant (1976).
Given the horrors contained in the Apartment Trilogy, what
would our favorite Polish director have made of today’s rental market? A
first-time viewer of Rosemary’s Baby might take away this central
message: You’ll need no less a connection than SATAN to land a three-bedroom
apartment in the Dakota when you’re a newly married, out-of-work actor and have
no visible means of income.
Roman Polanski stars in and directs "The Tenant"
The Tenant, a harrowing tale of urban
isolation and paranoia, is instead a single renter’s nightmare: Not only have
you (Roman Polanski) just moved into the apartment of a suicide victim, your
landlord (Melvyn Douglas) hates you. The more you attempt to keep out of
everyone’s way, the more things keep going terribly wrong. Like finding the
former tenant’s tooth in the wall. Or the nightmarish visions none of your
fellow tenants believe—even the one of the mummy-woman in the bathroom window
across the courtyard who stares at you as you attempt to pee. The message:
Living alone, while initially liberating and bohemian, usually ends in your
becoming That Weird Guy Down the Hall Who Does Creepy Drag. The only solution
is to throw yourself out the window.
If you fail the first time, repeat.
If you can buy the premise of Catherine Deneuve as a repressed, sexually frustrated virgin, you'll love Polanski's classic chiller "Repulsion".
Repulsion, conversely, is more of a
cautionary tale about what your anti-social roommate does when you go on
vacation. So desperate is she for company, hands will reach out of the walls.
Figures will appear in mirrors. She will pull your food out of the fridge, then
not eat it. Psycho-sexual frustration will lead to her crawling around on all
fours and delusions of rape. The message: Roommates, like pets, are high
maintenance, especially when left alone. Either take them with you on vacation,
or while you’re away, call your answering machine and make soothing sounds into
the phone.
Mia Farrow isn't reacting to another rent increase at the Dakota, she's defending her unborn child from Satanic influences in Rosemary's Baby
Back to Rosemary’s Baby, I can’t resist. Oft-cited as
one of the “scariest films of all time,†I think of itas more of a
touchstone of inspired casting – maybe the most inspired works of casting ever.
Stuffed to the rafters with everyone from 1930’s contract players (Patsy Kelly,
Ralph Bellamy); robust, British thespians (Maurice Evans, in a role that fits
him like an old houseshoe); vaudevillians (Phil Leeds, Elisha Cook), Broadway
actors (Ruth Gordon, Sidney Blackmer) and a winking cameo by William Castle,
the film’s co-producer (Robert Evans would not let him direct as part of the
deal at Paramount) – it’s hard to imagine a better ensemble. But according to
IMDB.COM and other sources, the leads and supporting roles were the result of
weeks of negotiations, turn-downs and second choices. Polanski wanted Tuesday Weld for the
lead, and Castle wanted Mia Farrow. Jane Fonda was made an offer for the lead,
but turned it down so she could make Barbarella (1968). Both director
and producer wanted Robert Redford for the role of Guy Woodhouse, Rosemary's
husband, but negotiations broke down when Paramount's lawyers served the actor
a subpoena over a contractual dispute involving Silvio Narizzano’s film Blue
(1968). Other actors considered for the role of Guy were contemporary leading
men: Richard Chamberlain, Robert Wagner and James Fox. Legend has it that even
Laurence Harvey campaigned for it, and Polanski tried to convince Warren Beatty
to do it before offering it to John Cassavetes, who in 1968 was more known as a
TV actor. Perhaps most intriguing to imagine, for the roles of witch coven
leaders Minnie and Roman Castevet, Polanski suggested Alfred Lunt and Lynn
Fontanne (!) the renowned husband and wife Broadway acting duo. Might they have
given their roles more of a Noel Coward drawing room feel, consistent with
their theatrical careers? I guess we’ll never know. Hard to imagine Minnie
Castevet as anyone other than Ruth Gordon, in her Oscar-winning performance.
Two other
well-cast bit parts are by Emmaline Henry, who played Dr. Bellow’s wife on I
Dream of Jeannie (Rosemary and Guy’s party scene) and Victoria Vetri,
1968’s Playmate of the Year, who plays the ill-fated, adopted runaway Terry
Gionoffrio. When Rosemary meets her in the laundry room and asks “Aren’t you
Victoria Vetri?†she replies no, “but everyone says I look like her.†It is,of course,
Victoria Vetri, all 36-21-35†of her! – David Savage
READER COMMENT:
Wende Wagner also appeared in "Rosemary's Baby," a film that used the Dakota
but wasn't supposed to be set there...Robert Redford in "Blue"? It's bad enough with Terence Stamp, but Redford?
The mind boggles!- Rory Monteith
I've just been given the keys to the Aston Martin.
At least, that's what
it feels like to write this column for Cinema Retro's new and improved website. It's a responsibility I
don't take lightly -
unlike 007's flippant rejoinders to Q's lectures on the DB5's capabilities. Editor
in chief Lee Pfeiffer has (perhaps unwisely) given me license to fill this space with whatever wayward
and outrageous reflections strike my fancy, as long as I keep the steering wheel pointed more or less in the
direction of cult film and television. I just hope he never feels the urge to trigger the ejector seat.
