Marilyn
Chambers grew up in a wealthy suburban household and dreamed of fame. A brief
modelling career in New York lead to her being chosen as the face of Ivory
Snow, one of America’s most well-known soap brands. A couple of brief movie
roles then followed (The Owl and the Pussycat (1970) starring Barbra
Streisand and Together (1971), a sexploitation documentary from future Friday
the 13th (1980) director Sean S. Cunningham), but no real
success. After moving to San Fransisco and marrying a hippy, her constant
search for acting roles lead to Marilyn accidentally attending an audition for
a new pornographic feature film being shot by the Mitchell Brothers. As this
book details, she initially tried to leave once she realised where she was, but
they saw her star quality and made her a financial offer she couldn’t refuse,
plus the opportunity to become a movie star. That film was Behind the Green
Door (1972), an experimental, arthouse-infused pornographic odyssey that
could only have been made in the 1970s. It was controversial but, riding on the
coattails of Deep Throat (1972), it became part of the porno chic wave
that saw queues round the blocks as legitimate theatres screened X-rated movies
and millions of dollars were made (some of it allegedly going to organised
crime groups). Behind the Green Door was even screened to great applause
at the Cannes Festival. This success saw Marilyn thrust into the limelight as
the public face of porn, alongside Deep Throat’s Linda Lovelace, even
though she had not really intended to become an adult movie star.
The
fame she experienced proved to be both a blessing and a curse, as Jared Stearns
details in this excellent biography. All Chambers wanted was to be taken
seriously as an actress, but ‘legitimate’ acting roles were not easy to get
once you had starred in pornography. This was increasingly apparent after the porno
chic fad had died down. Despite this she managed to sustain a very
successful career acting on stage in dramatic plays, she did a Broadway
musical, starred in a TV series and in her most recognisable credit for those
of us largely unfamiliar with her X-rated work, the starring role in David
Cronenberg’s second feature film Rabid (1977). She gave an impressive performance
in this film, and it ought to have enabled her to work in more non-porn films.
Unfortunately, although now recognised as an important and groundbreaking film,
at the time of its release Rabid was not taken particularly seriously,
and it made no immediate impact on Chambers’ career.
Alongside
all the other work she was doing she also had her own live shows in which she
would sing, dance and often perform nude (she even brought her show to the UK,
where she could be seen at the Raymond Revue Bar in 1979). Having left her
first husband she took up with the infamous Chuck Traynor, who had been
previously married to Linda Lovelace. That marriage having collapsed (Lovelace
would go on to accuse Traynor of abuse and coercion), Traynor became Chamber’s
manager, lover and eventual next husband. The details in this book about their
relationship and the impact it had on her both personally and professionally is
both fascinating and troubling. He introduced her to a showbiz lifestyle
(through her she became very good friends with Sammy Davis Jr.) and took her
career to the next level, but he was also abusive, controlling and enabled her drug
use. Eventually, she had a third, happier marriage which resulted in one
daughter, but she continued to struggle with sobriety and passed away fifteen
years ago.
(Photo: Cinema Retro Archives)
Marilyn
Chambers’ story is inspiring, fascinating and sad, and Jaren Stearns is to be
commended for his archival research and the dozens of interviews conducted with
her family, friends and colleagues. Never judgmental nor overly sentimental,
Stearns reveals both the tremendous highs and the devastating lows of her life
and career. A true icon, championing freedom of sexual expression throughout
her life, her story deserves to be better known. This is an excellent biography
that one hopes will land on the desk of a Hollywood producer somewhere. There’s
a film to be made about the life of Marilyn Chambers; she really should have
been a mainstream Hollywood star, and this book may help her finally become
one.
Founded by producers James H. Nicholson and Samuel Z. Arkoff,
American International Pictures (A.I.P.) hit upon a formula of financing
and releasing low-budget exploitation films for non-discriminating
audiences (translation: the youth market). Specializing in horror films
and goofy comedies, A.I.P. occasionally strayed into other genres. In
1963, the company capitalized on the always-popular WWII genre with the
release of "Operation Bikini". Ostensibly, the movie's title referred to
the obscure atoll in the Pacific where atomic bomb tests were conducted
during the Cold War era. However, in true A.I.P. style, the advertising
campaign was designed to imply that the title might also refer to the
fact that the bikini bathing suit was popularized here by a French
designer who conducted a photo shoot on the atoll just days after an
atomic blast. (Ignorant of the risks from radiation poison, he merrily
pronounced that "Like the bomb, the bikini is small and devastating!")
Still, the sexploitation angle in "Operation Bikini" was saved for late
in the film. What precedes its appearance is a fairly routine combat
flick made somewhat more interesting by the obvious attempts of the
filmmakers to disguise the movie's very limited budget.
Tab Hunter, one of the top heart throbs of the era, had by this point
seen his popularity in decline. He nonetheless received top billing
over charismatic crooner Frankie Avalon, whose career was ascending and
who would find great popularity as the star of several A.I.P. beach
movies over the next few years. Hunter plays Lt. Morgan Hayes, the
leader of a secret commando team that has been ordered to rendezvous
with a U.S. submarine that has been ordered to transport them on a
secret mission. The team is supposed to locate and destroy the wreckage
of an American sub that was recently sunk off the coast of Bikini by the
Japanese. Seems the wreckage contains a prototype of a top secret sonar
device that the Allies can't afford to fall into enemy hands. From
minute one, Hayes' small group of rough house land-lubbers rubs the
Captain of the submarine, Emmett Carey (Scott Brady) and his crew the
wrong way. Hayes's men resent being cooped up in a floating "tin can"
and the naval crew resents the presence of these brash soldiers who seem
to be perpetually eager to provoke a fight. Carey gives Hayes a
dressing down about keeping the tension levels low and the two men
ultimately gain mutual respect for one another. Upon arriving at Bikini,
Hayes and his men must sneak ashore and traverse the dense jungle in
search of the area where the sunken submarine is located. They are
guided by local partisans who conveniently include a stunning beauty
named Reiko, played by Eva Six, a recent winner of the "Miss Golden
Globes" honor. (I will refrain from making any tasteless jokes.) Reiko
takes a shine to Hayes and gets his mind temporarily off his troubles by
seducing him. When Hayes and his men finally arrive at their
destination, they are dismayed to see a virtual fleet of Japanese
vessels guarding the coast line where the sub is already being salvaged
by the enemy. Hayes realizes that they are now probably on a suicide
mission. Nevertheless, they persevere courageously, dodging and
sometimes engaging Japanese patrols before sending in Hayes and some
fellow scuba divers to attach time bombs to the hull of the sunken sub.
(The sequence is rather absurd because the team accomplishes this in the
dead of night despite not being able to employ any lighting equipment
whatsoever.) Detected by the Japanese, Hayes and his heroes take some
casualties in their desperate attempt to make it back to Capt. Carey's
submarine.
"Operation Bikini" is a "by the numbers" WWII yarn that isn't noticeably
better or worse than many of the other "B" movies of this genre that
were released in the 1960s. Director Anthony Carras, who edited some of
the better Poe adaptations for producer Roger Corman, employs grainy
stock footage of real combat sequences to get around his limited budget.
However, there are a couple of sequences that are unintentionally
amusing in which we find the crew of the submarine standing on deck,
supposedly in the middle of the ocean. The scenes are clearly filmed on a
sound stage because there is absolutely no movement of the vessel at
all. Apparently the budget didn't even allow for a few crew members to
gently "rock" the vessel. Additionally, the backdrop consists of either a
white or black wall with nary a hint of nature evident. Hunter looks
sullen and dreary throughout the entire proceedings, even when stripping
off his shirt for the love scene. The supporting cast includes some
offspring of Hollywood legends: Jody McCrea (son of Joel) and Gary
Crosby (son of "Der Bingle"). Michael Dante is the executive officer of
the sub and in a rather offbeat bit of casting, Jim Backus is seen in a
dramatic role as a member of the demolition team. Hunter's fellow teen
idol Frankie Avalon is cast in his usual role as wise-cracking street
guy. In the film's most bizarre sequences, he drools over a photo of the
prim and proper girl he left behind. while singing an awful love song
about trying not to be tempted by the "bad girls" he meets while on duty
away from home. Although the film is in black and white, these fantasy
sequences are shot in color. The "good girl" is shown lovingly waiting
for him while dressed like somebody's great grandmother and is presented
in B&W. Meanwhile, the leggy temptress is seen in full color,
attired in a slinky cocktail dress and gyrating her hips suggestively.
The virginal good girl gets the short end of the stick. These weird
sequences are an amusing example of how A.I.P. used an "everything but
the kitchen" sink formula to appeal to young audiences, regardless of
the lack of logic. The formula is employed in the film's equally bizarre
epilogue which extols the fact that the bikini bathing suit is closely
associated with Bikini. We observe a several minute sequence (also shot
in color) in which two young women lounge around the beach in skimpy
swim attire for no apparent reason than to stimulate the already raging
hormones of the movie's intended male teenage audience.
(The film is currently available for streaming through ScreenPix, which is available to Amazon Prime subscribers for an additional fee every month.)
CLICK HERE TO ORDER THE DVD FROM THE CINEMA RETRO MOVIE STORE
Long before his film The Accused (1988) helped earn Jodie Foster an Academy Award and
even longer before receiving Emmy Nominations for his work on TV’s ER, talented producer/director Jonathan
Kaplan made some very entertaining drive-in/exploitations films. His first, a 1972
sexploitation classic called Night Call
Nurses, was done for the immortal Roger Corman’s legendary New World
Pictures. The last of Corman’s “Nurses Trilogy”, Night Call Nurses, whichwas
made for a measly $75,000 and brought in over a million at the box office,
jumpstarted Kaplan’s filmmaking career as Corman immediately offered Kaplan The Student Teachers; a movie with
basically the same formula as the “Nurse” films (except with schoolteachers).
Released in June of 1973, Teachers
was another huge success for New World, so, impressed with Kaplan’s newest work,
Corman’s brother, Gene, hired him to direct the Jim Brown-starring heist/prison
flick The Slams (also 1973). This led
to Kaplan being approached by legendary production company American
International Pictures to helm the enjoyable 1974 “Blaxploitation” film Truck Turner starring the late, great
Isaac Hayes. Due to the success of this action-oriented film, Kaplan was hired
by Columbia Pictures to direct (and co-write) another actioner which would be
the biggest hit of his career so far: 1975’s White Line Fever, which is currently streaming on Amazon Prime.
War hero Carrol Jo Hummer (Jan-Michael
Vincent, Big Wednesday) returns home
to Tucson, Arizona and marries his sweetheart, Jerri (Kay Lenz, Breezy). He then gets a bank loan and
uses it to buy a rig named “The Blue Mule.” Anxious to start a family, Carrol
Jo begins work at Red River Shipping where his job is to haul produce. CJ soon
discovers that he is also expected to haul illegal cargo such as untaxed
cigarettes and slot machines. He refuses and gets his ribs broken by several
Red River employees. Once healed, CJ attempts to find work at other shipping
companies, but, due to being blackballed by Red River, cannot get hired. An
enraged CJ returns to Red River and holds his superiors, Duane Haller (Slim Pickens,
1972’s The Getaway) and Buck Wessler
(L.Q. Jones, The Wild Bunch) at
gunpoint until Buck agrees to let CJ do things his way. The men do agree, but
once CJ goes back to work, he is attacked by more Red River thugs who he manages
to successfully fight off. CJ eventually discovers that Red River is owned by a
huge corporation called Glass House which is not only run by a man named Cutler
(Don Porter, TV’s Gidget), but also
has ties to organized crime. The more CJ tries to do what’s right, the more
he’s attacked, with devastating consequences to his friends and family. Enraged,
CJ grabs his shotgun, jumps inside the Blue Mule and heads for Glass House. But
can one man stand up to the corrupt corporation and win?
Directed with a sure hand by Kaplan, White Line Fever is not only a modern
western with trucks instead of horses, but, according to the director, a Sam
Peckinpah-influenced western which, beside the fact that they are fabulous
actors, would explain why Peckinpah regulars like Slim Pickens, L.Q. Jones and
R.G. Armstrong (Pat Garrett and Billy the
Kid) are in the film. (Peckinpah would soon direct his own action/trucker
film; 1978’s enjoyable Convoy.) A
well-done addition to the revenge/man against the system formula, White Line Fever, as stated by co-writer
Ken Friedman (Cadillac Man),is similar in story/structure to Phil
Karlson films like Walking Tall or The Phenix City Story except with a
major twist at the end. The well-made film also benefits from some wonderful
cinematography by the Oscar nominated (for Patton)
Fred Koenekamp as well as extremely well-written, multi-dimensional characters
and terrific, believable performances from Jan-Michael Vincent, Kay Lenz, Slim
Pickens, L.Q. Jones, Sam Laws, Don Porter and R.G. Armstrong; not to mention an
early appearance by the always welcome Martin Kove (Steele Justice) as one of the Red River thugs and, last, but
certainly not least, the legendary Dick Miller (A Bucket of Blood, The Howling, Gremlins) as one of CJ’s fellow
truckers.
White Line Fever has also been
released as a Region-Free Blu-ray by the German video label Explosive Media and is
presented in its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio. The beautiful transfer is sharp,
colorful and has perfect sound. The disc also contains two theatrical trailers
(one in English and one in German); a still gallery which features the film’s
posters and lobby cards; an introduction by director Kaplan and an almost hour-long
featurette with co-writer Ken Friedman who reminisces about many different
aspects of the film including working with screen veterans like Slim Pickens
and Don Porter as well as discussing the film’s darker, more realistic ending. The
Blu-ray can be ordered from Amazon Germany.The film is also streaming for free on YouTube (with advertisements.)
If you’re looking for a well-made,
enthralling and realistic trucker movie, White
Line Fever is definitely the way to go.
In a recent book review about Swedish exploitation films, Cinema Retro columnist Adrian Smith points out that in the 1960s and 1970s Sweden became "the sexy film capital of Europe." As cinematic censorship eased around the world, filmmakers were quick to capitalize on the new screen freedoms, churning out countless low-budget sexploitation films that were softcore in content but far more erotic than any previous films that had been widely shown. Pity the horny person who lived in a rural area without access to theaters that showed such fare, and were thus not part of the action. As comedian George Gobel once quipped to Johnny Carson, "I feel like the world is a tuxedo and I'm a pair of brown shoes." The profit margins on these films were impressive, as they generally cast no-name actors and filmed in locations that were both accessible and economic. Many of these films cited Sweden in the title. Why Sweden was singled out among the other Nordic countries to be a particular haven for sexual permissiveness is still a mystery but this much is certain: the public equated the Swedes with being among the most sexually liberated people on earth. Was it true that they were having more fun than most of us? I guess you'd have to consult Swedes who came of age during that era, but to quote the famous line from "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance", "When the legend becomes fact, print the legend."
Swedish sexploitation films presented many new female "stars", but most of them faded quickly. One exception was Christina Lindberg (aka Kristina Lindberg), who still has a devoted subculture of fans based on her work in sexploitation films of the 1970s. Small in stature, Lindberg nevertheless was the very definition of voluptuous. While still a teenager, she appeared in prominent photo spreads for both Playboy and Penthouse when both magazines were at the height of their influence. Lindberg quickly attracted film producers and she began appearing in erotic films. She landed her first starring role in "Maid in Sweden", released in 1971. It is a Swedish film shot in English language and top-lining Lindberg as a major new star on the exploitation film circuit, a point that was emphasized by marketing materials that thoughtfully provided her measurements: 42-21-36. The film has been jointly released on Blu-ray through Kino Lorber and Code Red, though it has been in circulation for many years on other labels.
Lindberg plays Inga, a 16 year-old high school student who lives with her parents in a rural area. She is quiet, studious and well-behaved but yearns for a bit of excitement. The opportunity comes when she receives an invitation from her older sister Greta (Monica Ekman) to stay a few days with her in Stockholm, where she works and rents an apartment. Inga makes the train journey to the big city and is greeted by her sister. However, things get uncomfortable when she finds that Greta has a live-in lover, her boyfriend Casten (Crista Ekman, Monica's real-life husband.) Inga is nervous and uncomfortable sharing such small quarters with a man she's never met before. She becomes even more uncomfortable when she witnesses the uninhibited lifestyle of Greta and Casten. They walk about in various stages of undress and think nothing of noisily making love without making much of an effort to be discreet. When Inga secretly observes them, it fuels her own sexual awakening, though not in a pleasant way. She has a nightmare in which she is being gang-raped and is saved by an older women who tries to seduce her. These scenes are extraneous to the story and are inserted simply to provide some additional kinky visuals. Feeling Inga could use some male companionship, Greta and Casten set her up for a date with a friend, Bjorn, who is 21 years-old and seems like a polite, considerate person. That changes when he gets Inga to his apartment. When she spurs his advances, he violently rapes her. In true celluloid fantasy fashion, she puts aside this crime as though her attacker made a simple social flub. She becomes infatuated with him and the two form a romantic bond. Then there is a turn for the worse when Casten tries to seduce her, thus leading to a domestic crisis that endangers her relationship with her sister. By the time Inga must return home, she has lived the equivalent of years of sexual experience all in a matter of days.
"Maid in Sweden" is by any definition a sexploitation film. It exists only to showcase varying degrees of female nudity. Christina Lindberg willingly obliges, doffing her top at every opportunity and occasionally walking about starkers. However, she doesn't bring much personality to the role, playing the part in a grim, unsmiling Wednesday Addams-like mode. The sex scenes are softcore, but push the boundaries. The film, directed by Floch Johnson, is a cut above most other sex movies of the era in that the actors are competent and there is a good deal of footage devoted to showing aspects of Stockholm. There is also a soundtrack comprised mostly of original rock songs. Lindberg would go on to make other exploitation/sexploitation films, most notably the controversial rape revenge movie "Thriller" (aka "They Call Her One-Eye"). Ultimately, she would return to school and veered away from acting to become an animal activist and environmentalist.
Code Red and Kino Lorber have provided a very good 2K transfer which probably means this is the best video version of the movie to be made available. The only bonus extras are the original trailer and a slew of other sexploitation film trailers.
In the world of exploitation cinema, the name
Jerry Gross is very well known. Gross owned and ran Cinemation Industries, a
film studio/distribution company based in New York. Cinemation produced and/or
distributed many movies like the teenage pregnancy film Teenage Mother (1967), the Swedish made sexploitation films Inga and Fanny Hill (both 1968), the revolutionary “Blaxploitation” classic
Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song
(1971), the horror film I Drink Your
Blood (1971) and the popular animated adult feature 1972’s Fritz the Cat. Just to name a few.
After the company went bankrupt in the mid-70s, Jerry started the Jerry Gross
Organization which continued the tradition, releasing shocking fare such as
1978’s controversial I Spit on Your Grave
and the horror classic Zombie (1979).
Recently, Gross’s first feature film, Girl
on a Chain Gang, was released on Blu-ray.
Written, produced and directed by Gross, Girl on a Chain Gang, which was based on
a story by Don Olsen, concerns three young civil rights activists who drive
through a small Southern town and are wrongly arrested by the hateful and
corrupt local police. Once they are brought to the station, the three young
friends—two men and a woman—are put through the most humiliating and terrifying
night of their lives.
Originally titled Bayou, Girl on a Chain Gang,
which was made for a paltry$31,000
and shot in Long Island, New York, is a surprisingly (considering the budget)
well-made, but, in some spots, disturbing film to watch. Based on actual
events, the film deals with the hate and racism that existed in the mid to late
1960s (and unfortunately still exists today). The film also contains a talented
cast (especially William Watson as the evil sheriff) and a memorable musical
score by Steve Karmen.
Girl on a Chain Gang has been released on
a region free Blu-ray by The Film Detective and is presented in its original
1:37:1 aspect ratio. The beautiful-looking transfer boasts sharp, crystal clear
black and white images (which shows off George Zimmermann’s lovely
cinematography) and the disc not only contains an informative audio commentary
by Jennifer Churchill, author of Movies
are Magic, but also an interesting featurette about writer/producer/director
Jerry Gross, a wonderful booklet which contains an essay on the film by
Something Weird Video’s Lisa Petrucci, and a reproduction of the “Certificate
of Jury Service” which Jerry Gross gave out to audience members in 1966.
Among the many gems released by the Warner Archive is the obscure Girl of the Night which afforded Anne Francis a rare starring role in a theatrical feature. The 1960 modestly-budgeted movie purports to examine the pitfalls of a young woman who becomes a high-priced call girl. Francis plays Robin Williams (not the hairy guy from Mork and Mindy), a charismatic 24 year-old trying to carve a life for herself in New York City. She soon falls in love with Larry Taylor (John Kerr), a charismatic cad who pretends to love her while acting as her pimp. For a while, Robin seems content. She's pulling in enough loot to maintain a high lifestyle for herself and Larry, taking "appointments" from floozy madame Rowena (Kay Medford.) When she learns Larry has been cheating on her, she despairs and seeks advice from psychiatrist Dr. Mitchell (Lloyd Nolan in typically stoic Lloyd Nolan mode.) Much of the story unfolds as Robin relates to Dr. Mitchell how a troubled childhood of abuse and neglect led her to prostitution. Mitchell tries to convince her she is still being used and abused by Larry, who she consistently forgives, against her better judgment.
Despite the obvious opportunity to present the subject matter in a sexploitation format, Girl of the Night is
actually a highly engrossing film, intelligently written with a superb
performance by Francis that should have been considered for an Oscar
nomination. The fact that she never became a full-fledged star of the big screen is
puzzling, though she did gain a loyal following based on her Honey West TV
series in the 1960s. The film pulls its punches in terms of sanitizing
prostitution (the word "sex" is used only once) and consequently, the
worst aspects of the profession seem to be dealing with a few kinky
customers and an unchivalrous boyfriend. However, director Joseph Cates
handles the story very competently and takes advantage of some prime New
York City locations. The film's supporting cast is quite engaging, with
Kerr particularly good playing against type as a villain. The movie was
produced by Max Rosenberg, who would soon go on to produce some of the
most popular horror films of the 60s and 70s. In summary, Girl of the Night is a fine tribute to the talents of the under-appreciated Anne Francis.
Actress Yvette Mimieux passed away on Tuesday from natural causes. She was 80 years old. Mimieux rose to fame starring opposite Rod Taylor in George Pal's 1960 screen adaptation of H.G. Wells' "The Time Machine". Prominent roles in major films soon followed and she won acclaim for her abilities primarily in dramas, although the1960 film "Where the Boys Are" combined comedy with tragedy and Mimieux's star rose further when the movie became a boxoffice hit with teenagers. In 1962, she teamed again with George Pal for his Cinerama classic "The Wonderful World of the Brothers Grimm". Other major films in which she starred included "The Light in the Piazza", "Toys in the Attic", "Diamond Head", "The Reward" and the Disney hit "Monkeys Go Home!". In 1968, she reunited with Rod Taylor for "Dark of the Sun" (aka "The Mercenaries"), a brutal but well-made adventure film centering on social unrest and revolution in the Congo.
Many of her films from this era were less-than-stellar, however, but she did score a major hit in 1972 starring opposite Charlton Heston in "Skyjacked". In 1976, she starred in the exploitation/sexploitation crime drama "Jackson County Jail", which has become a cult favorite from the era. Her last role in a major film was in Disney's 1979 sci-fi movie "The Black Hole". She had been active in television since 1959 and continued to appear in the medium while simultaneously starring in feature films. Her last screen credit was the TV movie "Lady Boss" in 1992, after which she retired from acting. She had been married three times including a 13 year union with director Stanley Donen. She had no children. The web site Deadline reports that no memorial services are planned, keeping true to her penchant for privacy in her personal life. For more, click here.
ISSUE #34 (JANUARY 2016) OF CINEMA RETRO MAGAZINE:
HIGHLIGHTS OF ISSUE
#34 INCLUDE:
Steven Jay Rubin presents part 2 of the remarkable
story about the making of The Bridge at Remagen and gets
insights from stars Robert Vaughn, George Segal & Bradford
Dillman .
Legendary stills photographer Keith Hamshere shares
insights from his remarkable career and provides rare images from the
filming of Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey
Bestselling author Robert Sellers presents the in-depth
story behind the making of The Three Musketeers and The
Four Musketeers with exclusive archival comments from producer Ilya
Salkind and cast members including Michael
York and Sir Christopher Lee.
James Bond mania! Matthew
Field returns to Piz Gloria, the Swiss mountaintop location of "On
Her Majesty's Secret Service" for a celebration of the film
with star George Lazenby; Gareth Owen recalls the 007
40th anniversary production kick-off of "Die Another
Day" at Pinewood Studios and Cinema Retro attends the London
royal premiere of "Spectre".
Dawn Dabell examines three WWII films that featured
women in the starring roles.
Tom Lisanti interviews Dean Martin's Matt
Helm Slaygirl Jan Watson
Tim Greaves celebrates the Amicus horror classic Dr.
Terror's House of Horrors starring Peter Cushing,
Christopher Lee and Donald Sutherland.
Brian Davidson's tribute to the guilty pleasure British
sexploitation film Au Pair Girls
Howard Hughes covers the Blu-ray release of the obscure
spaghetti Western "Cemetary Without Crosses"
Plus Raymond Benson's top ten films of 1953, Darren
Allison's soundtrack reviews and the latest movie book and DVD/Blu-ray
releases
Founded by producers James H. Nicholson and Samuel Z. Arkoff, American International Pictures (A.I.P.) hit upon a formula of financing and releasing low-budget exploitation films for non-discriminating audiences (translation: the youth market). Specializing in horror films and goofy comedies, A.I.P. occasionally strayed into other genres. In 1963, the company capitalized on the always-popular WWII genre with the release of "Operation Bikini". Ostensibly, the movie's title referred to the obscure atoll in the Pacific where atomic bomb tests were conducted during the Cold War era. However, in true A.I.P. style, the advertising campaign was designed to imply that the title might also refer to the fact that the bikini bathing suit was popularized here by a French designer who conducted a photo shoot on the atoll just days after an atomic blast. (Ignorant of the risks from radiation poison, he merrily pronounced that "Like the bomb, the bikini is small and devastating!") Still, the sexploitation angle in "Operation Bikini" was saved for late in the film. What precedes its appearance is a fairly routine combat flick made somewhat more interesting by the obvious attempts of the filmmakers to disguise the movie's very limited budget.
Tab Hunter, one of the top heart throbs of the era, had by this point seen his popularity in decline. He nonetheless received top billing over charismatic crooner Frankie Avalon, whose career was ascending and who would find great popularity as the star of several A.I.P. beach movies over the next few years. Hunter plays Lt. Morgan Hayes, the leader of a secret commando team that has been ordered to rendezvous with a U.S. submarine that has been ordered to transport them on a secret mission. The team is supposed to locate and destroy the wreckage of an American sub that was recently sunk off the coast of Bikini by the Japanese. Seems the wreckage contains a prototype of a top secret sonar device that the Allies can't afford to fall into enemy hands. From minute one, Hayes' small group of rough house land-lubbers rubs the Captain of the submarine, Emmett Carey (Scott Brady) and his crew the wrong way. Hayes's men resent being cooped up in a floating "tin can" and the naval crew resents the presence of these brash soldiers who seem to be perpetually eager to provoke a fight. Carey gives Hayes a dressing down about keeping the tension levels low and the two men ultimately gain mutual respect for one another. Upon arriving at Bikini, Hayes and his men must sneak ashore and traverse the dense jungle in search of the area where the sunken submarine is located. They are guided by local partisans who conveniently include a stunning beauty named Reiko, played by Eva Six, a recent winner of the "Miss Golden Globes" honor. (I will refrain from making any tasteless jokes.) Reiko takes a shine to Hayes and gets his mind temporarily off his troubles by seducing him. When Hayes and his men finally arrive at their destination, they are dismayed to see a virtual fleet of Japanese vessels guarding the coast line where the sub is already being salvaged by the enemy. Hayes realizes that they are now probably on a suicide mission. Nevertheless, they persevere courageously, dodging and sometimes engaging Japanese patrols before sending in Hayes and some fellow scuba divers to attach time bombs to the hull of the sunken sub. (The sequence is rather absurd because the team accomplishes this in the dead of night despite not being able to employ any lighting equipment whatsoever.) Detected by the Japanese, Hayes and his heroes take some casualties in their desperate attempt to make it back to Capt. Carey's submarine.
It's been said that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes classic "The Hound of the Baskervilles" is the most-filmed literary adaptation of all time. You might be forgiven for thinking that status might belong to Agatha Christie's "Ten Little Indians", which was originally published in the UK in 1939 under a title that was so racist that the mind boggles over the fact it could ever have been socially acceptable. It was later changed to "Ten Little Indians". The original U.S. publication was titled "And Then There Were None" out of racial sensitivity. The book was an immediate sensation and in 1945 and Christie adapted it to a hit stage production. A well-received film version was made by director Rene Clair in 1945 under the title "And Then There Were None". Officially, there have only been four English language feature films based on the book as well as one British mini-series. However, the novel has influenced so many thrillers over the decades that the well-worn central scenario has become a main staple of films and TV programs ranging from any number of crime thrillers to Vincent Price's delightfully campy horror flick "House on Haunted Hill". A common link between three of the film versions was Harry Alan Towers, who produced feature film adaptations of the novel in 1965, 1974 and 1989. Towers had a long career of churning out profitable schlock ranging from low-grade James Bond ripoffs to sexploitation and horror films that were definitely of the "guilty pleasure" variety. The fact that he produced three of the four major adaptations of Christie's novel is quite remarkable.The 1965 and 1974 film versions received major international distribution but the 1989 version is largely unknown by most movie fans, as it only received very limited distribution. (It's entire gross in North America is reported as $43,000 over a two-day period.).
Kino Lorber has released the 1989 version of the film on Blu-ray. The film, directed by Alan Birkinshaw, deviates from the other versions in terms of location. The main plot premise is still followed. In the novel and previous movie versions, a disparate group of strangers turn up at an isolated mansion house at the invitation of a mysterious, wealthy stranger named Mr. Owen, who promises them a lavish holiday. Upon arriving and making each other's acquaintance, the ten guests are bewildered that there host is not present to greet them. Instead, they are instructed to listen to a phonograph record on which Mr. Owen announces the truth behind his invitations. He accuses each of the attendees of having been responsible for the death of an innocent person or persons and has managed to escape justice. Owen promises that he will ensure that the victims are avenged and very soon thereafter the participants are knocked off one-by-one through ingenious and sometimes gory methods. As each murder occurs, the guests realize that one figure from a corresponding set of ten Indian dolls also inexplicably disappears to mark the demise of the latest victim. The 1989 version opens in an unnamed African nation, which in fact is South Africa. The country was by then an international pariah and bleeding red ink in terms of its solvency. This was due to the government's stubborn insistence upon trying to prop up its atrocious system of apartheid. To raise funds, South Africa solicited for film production companies to shoot there in return for attractive tax breaks and other financial incentives. It is undoubtedly for this reason that the end credits of the movie don't mention where it was filmed. The movie was distributed by the famed (or infamous) Canon Films, which was itself a schlock factory that nevertheless proved to be the toast of the film industry in the 1980s for its ability to churn out modestly-budgeted movies that more often than not proved to be hits with undiscriminating movie-goers.
As with previous film versions of the novel, this one boasts a cast of eclectic actors but only a few with name recognition, most notably Donald Pleasence, Herbert Lom (both of whom appeared in the 1974 version), Brenda Vaccaro (an Oscar nominee for "Midnight Cowboy" twenty years earlier) and Frank Stallone. Under Alan Birkinshaw's direction, they are all adequate but some chew the South African scenery a bit too often. With Lom seen in an abbreviated role, only Pleasence makes much of an impression, giving one of his reliably understated performances. Producer Towers was said to have approached Oliver Reed, (another veteran of the 1974 version), along with Peter Cushing, Klaus Kinski and Robert Vaughn to appear in this production. The mind reels at how beneficial their presence might have been. In previous versions, the male and female leads form a romantic attachment. Those roles are played here by Sarah Maur Thorp and Frank Stallone, but aside from some mild flirting, there are no sparks between them. Thorp fares better in terms of character and performance because Stallone has nothing interesting to say or do other than parade about in jungle attire that makes him look like someone attending a Halloween party dressed as Indiana Jones.
Hollywood screenwriters have long rewritten historical events and figures under the premise of using "artistic license". Generally, this works well when considering aspects of the distant past. Thus, you can have Tony Curtis play a Viking and John Wayne portray Genghis Khan. What is unusual is finding a great cinematic historical distortion pertaining to a relatively recent event, for the obvious reason that the entire world is well aware of the deception. Such is the case with "Hitler's Madman", a 1943 "Poverty Row" production that had the distinction of being picked up for distribution by MGM. The film was made by German ex-pats in America who despised what the Nazi regime had done to their country. The movie is primarily distinguished by the fact that it represents the American directorial debut of Douglas Sirk, who would go on to considerable acclaim helming "A list" productions. The story concerns the reign of terror instituted by Reinhard Heydrich, the "Reich Protector" who oversaw running the government of Czecholslovakia, which had been annexed by Germany as part of the infamous agreement at Munich that saw Britain and France attempt to prevent war by appeasing Hitler. Even by Nazi standards, Heydrich was considered to be inhumane. Hitler himself derided him as the "man with the iron heart". As portrayed by John Carradine (with short, dyed blonde hair), the actor does bear a considerable resemblance to his historical counterpart.
The rather rambling story line for the movie is centered in a small Czech village where we see Karel Vavra (Alan Curtis), a local man who has been living in exile in England, parachute back into his home country. Making his way to the village he grew up in, he meets his sweetheart, Jarmilla Hanka (Patricia Morison) and explains that he's on a secret mission to organize a resistance movement among the local townspeople, who are being terrorized by the local puppet government under a feckless Nazi loyalist mayor. Karel finds the men understandably reluctant to patriotic entreaties, as they know the Nazis will ensure a dire fate for them if they are found out. Meanwhile, a parallel story line centers on Heydrich's activities in Prague, where he delights in demonizing "intellectuals" and politicizing the university educational programs. In the film's most daring scene, Heydrich orders female students to line up for inspection. If their looks pass muster, they are to be forcibly sterilized and sent to the Russian Front as sex slaves for German soldiers. This is pure hokum inserted into the film in order to justify the marketing campaign that showed Heydrich leering at frightened young women. Certainly women in occupied countries were forced or coerced to serve in brothels but the scene depicted in "Hitler's Madman" is there for reasons of pure sexploitation.
As Heydrich's cruel tactics begin to affect the rural population, Karel finds success in recruiting some men to form a partisan unit. The news that Heydrich is scheduled to drive through the village leads to an assassination attempt on a country road by Karel, Jarmilla and her father. The act is presented as though it's a spontaneous action, when, in fact, the entire scene is pure hooey. There was an assassination attempt on Heydrich while he was in his motorcar, but it took place in central Prague and had been carefully planned by two partisans who had been parachuted in from England to carry out the mission. The attempt almost failed when a machine gun jammed but Heydrich was injured by a grenade. Severely wounded, he refused to be treated by local non-German doctors and ended up dying from an infection. What is rather bizarre is that this event was major news around the world, so any movie goer would have been well aware of the historical distortion.The film does somewhat accurately present the fallout from Heydrich's assassination which resulted in the entire village of Lidice being razed to the ground, all males over 15 years old executed and all females sent to concentration camps. Most of the children were ultimately gassed to death,though this fact is not mentioned in the film. It was one of the most notorious war crimes in a conflict characterized by notorious war crimes.
Due for release on 27th September 2019: 3 CD (5 original albums) The Electric Banana (1967), More
Electric Banana (1968), Even More Electric Banana (1969), Hot Licks (1973) and
The Return Of The Electric Banana (1978).
Fans of Film and TV Library music should be
gleaming all over with this upcoming release. Initially coming together during
a Fontana-era lull in The Pretty Things’ prodigious career, the band’s
now-legendary body of work for music library de Wolfe as The Electric Banana
saw their alter-egos become parallel universe superstars, their work utilised
by film and TV producers in everything from soft-porn skin-flicks, a Norman
Wisdom vehicle and horror classic Dawn of the Dead to small-screen ratings
winners like Dr. Who (1973 season), The Sweeney (1975) and Minder (1984).
But there is so much more just begging to be re-discovered
within these shiny silver time capsules. Cult TV shows such as Timeslip (1970) and
Doomwatch (1972). Ultra-rare music from sexploitation gems such as Confessions
of a Male Groupie: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and love The Electric Banana
(1971) and some great Tony Tenser productions including Monique (1970) and the
Norman Wisdom film (which has since gathered a cult reputation amongst British
psychedelic music buffs), What’s Good for the Goose (1968). And not forgetting Michael
Armstrong’s The Haunted House of Horror (1969) – all feature something,
somewhere from The Electric Banana. This generous and hugely enjoyable
collection is peppered with many surprising treats.
In the Sixties, the Banana recordings
mirrored British pop’s gradual evolution into rock, courtesy of brass-led
Swinging London ravers (‘Walking down the Street’, ‘Danger Signs’), primal
garage punk (‘Street Girl’, ‘Love Dance And Sing’) and maximum psychedelia
(‘Eagle’s Son’, ‘Alexander’). They switched gears again in the Seventies;
confidently mixing swaggering bar-band hard rockers (‘The Loser’, ‘Sweet Orphan
Lady’), putative terrace anthems (‘Whiskey Song’), metal-based rock (‘Maze
Song’, the Hendrix tribute ‘James Marshall’) and jangly, Byrds-inflected power
pop (‘Do My Stuff’).
Taken from the original master-tapes, the
3-CD set The Complete De Wolfe Sessions represents a number of firsts: the
first-ever legitimate CD issue of these recordings (authorised by both The
Pretty Things and de Wolfe), the first time that the Banana’s Sixties and
Seventies work has been made available under one roof, and the first time that
the karaoke-anticipating backing tracks have been made commercially available.
Housed in a clamshell box that includes a
lavish illustrated booklet, The Complete De Wolfe Sessions incorporates the
original albums artwork, an extended essay on the band, quotes from pivotal
members Phil May, Dick Taylor and Wally Waller, and some priceless photos from
back in the day.
More than forty years after The Pretty Things
last donned the Electric Banana mantle, this long-overdue complete package is
the final, definitive word on these seminal and much-loved recordings – and certainly
proves to be a rich voyage of discovery.
Just in case you thought the good folks at Vinegar Syndrome only release version of vintage porn flicks, it may come as news that they are also providing another valuable social service: remastering long-forgotten grind house "classics". Case in point: "The Muthers", a 1976 gem that plays out like the ultimate Tarantino fantasy. It's a combination of several genres: Women in Prison ("W.I.P", for the initiated), chop socky, sexploitation and blaxploitation. It doesn't get any better than this if you were weaned on this glorious type of sleaze that played routinely on 42nd Street. Directed by cult "B" movie favorite Cirio Santiago, "The Muthers" is yet another low-budget flick from the era that was filmed in the Philippines. The movie opens with a memorable introduction to the titular characters. They are Kelly (Jeannie Bell) and her equally sexy sidekick Anggie (Rosanne Katon, Playboy's Miss September in 1978), who are female pirates with an all-male crew ("You go, girls!"). We see them aboard their high speed, armed vessel as they raid a tourist boat and grab the booty. (Since these are good pirates, no one gets hurt). We know the pirates go by the name of The Muthers because their vessel is adorned with a big sign that reads "The Muthers", in what must have been the first case of branding for high seas pirates. When they return to their Hole-in-the-Wall-like village, they are informed that Kelly's teenage sister has gone missing. They start trawling the waterfront bars and learn that she has been abducted by a human trafficking ring. Working with a government agent who wants to bring down the head of the ring, a notorious crime kingpin named Monteiro (Tony Carreon), Kelly and Anggie volunteer to be captured. They are brought to Monteiro's jungle prison camp, which is guarded by a virtual army of heavily-armed thugs. Here they find dozens of young women being kept in brutal conditions. They are forced to perform manual labor and are simultaneously being groomed for sale to a procurer of girls for international brothels. Kelly manages to get a fleeting glimpse of her sister before she learns the younger girl has made a desperate attempt to escape into the jungle- a strategy which goes tragically awry.
While in the camp, Kelly and Anggie meet Marcie (Trina Parks), another beauty who is regarded as a long-time veteran prisoner who knows all the ropes. Marcie introduces them to Serena (Jayne Kennedy), who is the privileged mistress of Monteiro (who also sleeps with his male guards). Anggie resents Serena for selling out in return for her soft lifestyle at the camp and derisively refers to her as a "house nigger". But Marcie informs her that Serena often provides what human compassion she can towards the prisoners. Ultimately, Kelly, Angie and Marcie enlist Serena in an audacious plan for them all to escape. They do so but Monteiro and his goons are in hot pursuit. As the women hide in the jungle, they face death from the elements, starvation and dangerous critters. In the film's best scenario, Marcie is bitten in the chest by a deadly snake. As Serena sucks the blood out, Marcie gets the movie's best line of dialogue: "Just like every other snake I've met-- won't leave my tits alone!" Although Parks, Kennedy and Katon frustrate male viewers keeping their clothes mostly intact, Bell delivers the goods with two (not one, but two!) gratuitous topless bathlng sequences. She also saunters around the tropical location clad in a long-sleeve turtleneck shirt, the absurdity of which is overshadowed by the fact that she is conspicuously bra-less. The film climaxes with double crosses, a big shootout between the "good" pirates and Monteiro's forces, with machine gun slinging chicks also going hand-to-hand with the villains. (Yes, everybody is kung-fu fighting.) At one point in the movie, Bell gets to swing vine-to-vine a la Tarzan. As low grade action films go, it doesn't get much lower or better than this- and it's all set to a typically funky '70s disco score.
Jeannie Bell displays why the questionable choice of wearing a long-sleeve turtleneck in the tropics has its good points.
The Vinegar Syndrome release has undergone a 2k restoration from the original 35mm negative, making it yet another one of their titles that probably looks infinitely better today than it did upon its initial release. An appropriately cheesy trailer is also included that doesn't even credit the actresses, though perhaps they consider that to be a positive.
Cinema Retro reader and contributor Kev Wilkinson was kind enough to provide these rare photos of the British sexploitation film The Pleasure Girls playing at London theaters in 1965. For Adrian Smith's extensive articles on the British sex film industry in the 60s and 70s, see Cinema Retro issues #23 and #24.
The late Joe Sarno was a pioneer in the "art" of producing, writing and directing New York sexploitation films. What set Sarno apart from many of his peers is that he attempted to bring a degree of integrity to his work by providing reasonably compelling story lines. This was especially true in the 1960s when the mainstreaming of adult films was becoming the norm in big cities, even as rural America was seemingly in a frenzy to do battle with the people who made them. Vinegar Syndrome has released a limited edition Blu-ray/DVD of one of Sarno's most ambitious projects, "Red Roses of Passion". Filmed in New York in late 1966, the film had a checkered theatrical release over the next couple of years. The B&W film is unusual for adult fare of the era because it delves into a plot that centers on the supernatural. Carla (Patricia McNair) is a rebellious young woman who is living with her cousin and aunt. She is bored to death by her aunt's conservative lifestyle and her cousin's plain vanilla boyfriend, who is always held up as the epitome of the responsible man to have in your life. Carla certainly wants a man in her life...seemingly any man but each time she sneaks a potential lover back to her room, her aunt thwarts her plans for an erotic evening. Carla's friend Enid convinces her to visit a fortune teller she has been frequenting, Martha. Carla complies and is suitably impressed when Martha is able to divulge personal information about Carla she could not possibly have known otherwise. Still, Martha is a strange one: humorless, dominating and demanding. Carla realizes that Martha is the mistress of the Cult of Pan, an erotic secret society that meets to engage in sex rites. A group of young women don see-through lingerie and indulge in all sorts of exotic rituals culminating in sipping "The Wine of Pan" and rubbing roses on each other. The combination of the two rituals brings the women to orgasmic pleasure before they offer themselves to "Pan"- who is, in reality, Martha's creepy brother who hides behind a curtain until it's time to preside over an orgy in which he is the only male. When no other women are around, Pan considers his own sister to be fair game.
In a scenario worthy of a "Twilight Zone" episode, Carla asks Martha if she can do anything to mitigate her aunt and cousin's prudish behavior. Martha instructs her to put some drops of Pan's Wine into their tea, which she does. Soon, a mysterious messenger arrives delivering a single rose to her aunt, who immediately begins rubbing it all over her body in a sex-crazed frenzy. Her daughter is appalled- until she gets the urge to do the same. Before long, the women are bonafide nymphomaniacs. Worse, they compete with each other to seduce the delivery man, who is, in fact, Pan. At one point mom and daughter engage in a rolling cat fight, clad only in their bras and panties. Before long they are having threesomes with men and trawling the back alleys to have sex with any available male. The action spills over back into their home where orgies become regular occurrences in their living room, giving an all new meaning to what a shag rug really means. Carla, meanwhile, is suffering pangs of guilt. She tells Martha she never meant to ruin the women's lives and pleads to have the spell broken. Martha said she can do so- but only if Carla agrees to be one of Pan's sex slaves forever.
After falling under Pan's spell, mother and daughter are compelled to compete with each other for lovers.
"Red Roses of Passion" isn't a hardcore sex film but it's content was pretty edgy for 1966- especially with scenes of mom and daughter both seducing the same lover (even "The Graduate"'s Benjamin didn't manage that with Mrs Robinson and her daughter at the same time.) The Satanic aspect of the script makes for a genuinely entertaining experience, thanks in no small part to the crisp cinematography of Anthony Lover (that's his real name. Honest.) One must view a film like this in context. Sarno had virtually no money, no professional actors and had to confine most of the shooting to interiors because the complications of filming on the streets of New York were too fraught with difficulties. Some of the performances are predictably amateurish but others are surprisingly effective. Sarno kills plenty of time by lingering too long on some of the rituals of the scantily clad women flaying each other with single stem roses but in the aggregate the movie is an impressive achievement. I should also mention that the music (not credited) also adds to the atmosphere with a strain that sounds similar to "The Third Man Theme" used sporadically to good effect.
The only bonus feature is a video interview with Sarno biographer and friend Michael Bowen, who provides plenty of interesting detail about Sarno's prolific career and the early days of shooting adult films in New York.
The Vinegar Syndrome transfer is excellent and it's too bad Sarno isn't around to enjoy seeing a first class presentation of his impressive "B" movie.
This is a limited edition of only 2,000 units. Click here to order from Amazon.
BCI Eclipse released “Black Candles†on DVD in the U.S. in 2007
as part of a “Welcome to the Grindhouse†double feature. Before that, there was a DVD-R pressing from
Midnight Video under Larraz’s original Spanish title. The Code Red hi-def Blu-ray in anamorphic,
1.78:1 widescreen is far superior to either in sharpness and clarity, and
likely the best home video edition we’ll ever see. The BCI Eclipse DVD lists an 85 minute
running time, and Code Red lists 82 minutes for its Blu-ray. Based on a comparison viewing, however, the
two editions seem to be substantially the same. The opening credits of the Code Red print give the title as “Hot
Fantasies,†once used for late-night cable showings. The only extras are other Code Red
trailers. The Code Red Blu-ray, which
retails for $24.95, is available from Screen Archives Entertainment HERE.
FRED BLOSSER IS THE AUTHOR OF "SAVAGE SCROLLS: VOLUME ONE: SCHOLARSHIP FROM THE HYBORIAN AGE". CLICK HERE TO ORDER ON AMAZON
RETRO-ACTIVE: THE BEST FROM THE CINEMA RETRO ARCHIVES
By Lee Pfeiffer
Vinegar Syndrome (we love the name) is a DVD label that specializes in preserving and restoring vintage cinematic erotica and other cult films. Their most recent coup is the release of a double feature on Blu-ray consisting of Russ Meyer's 1964 adaptation of Fanny Hill along with Albert Zugsmith's bizarre 1967 Western comedy The Phantom Gunslinger. The dual package generously provides both films on DVD as well as their Blu-ray editions. Russ Meyer was already well-known as both a cheesecake photographer for "men's magazines" as well as a director of soft-cover sex films that generally showcased young women who were super-amply endowed. Ever the opportunist, he teamed with producer Zugsmith in 1964 for Fanny Hill, which was based on a notorious 18th century novel that chronicled the sexual escapades of a promiscuous young woman. Such was the book's controversial impact that when it was reprinted in the early 1960s it was banned in some quarters for obscenity. The publisher and civil libertarians contested the ruling and the subsequent court battle put ol' Fanny right in the midst of the contemporary news cycle. Zugsmith, who was a producer of some repute (The Incredible Shrinking Man, Touch of Evil) had by this point concentrated on low-brow exploitation fare. He reasoned that if the country was up in arms over a two hundred year old book, audiences would go wild over a film adaptation of the story. The plot centers on Fanny (Leticia Roman) as a buxom blonde farm girl who arrives in London, naive and clueless about the ways of the world. She is quickly "adopted" by Mrs. Brown (Miriam Hopkins), a seemingly benevolent older woman who is, in fact, a madame who wants to exploit Fanny's innocence by turning her into a prostitute. What she doesn't count on is just how naive Fanny is. Even when residing with numerous other ladies of the night, she fails to catch on to the fact that the place is a bordello. Mrs. Brown tries on several occasions to financially benefit from renting the young virgin to any number of eager patrons, but fate always intervenes before the act can be consummated. When Fanny falls in love with Charles (Ulli Lommel), a dashing and chivalrous young sailor, Mrs. Brown arranges for him to be kidnapped and taken out of the country. Thinking her lover has abandoned her, Fanny becomes despondent and out of grief agrees to marry a loathsome nobleman. As the ceremony begins, Fanny's betrothed manages to escape and make his way to the wedding where the film climaxes in a crazy, slap-stick filled brawl. Viewers may be puzzled by the almost complete absence of eroticism in the film, along with relatively few lingering shots of semi-dressed young women. The whole enterprise is so chaste it could be shown today on the Disney Channel. This was due to the fact that Zugsmith and Meyer clashed over the content of the film, with Zugsmith insisting that comedy should be emphasized over sexual content. Meyer finished the film but justifiably regarded it as a low-grade entry on his list of cinematic achievements. What emerged is a Jerry Lewis-like farce with zany sequences in which people swing from chandeliers, cross dress and engage in various forms of mayhem. In retrospect, it seems inconceivable that the film was deemed controversial even in 1964. Zugsmith filmed the movie in West Germany using local actors for supporting roles. Although the three leads-Roman, Hopkins and Lommel- perform admirable given the circumstances, the supporting cast is encouraged to play even the most minor moments in absurd, over-the-top manner. The result is that the film's primary legacy is as an interesting relic of a bygone era when "naughty" films could still raise eyebrow without delivering much in the way of genuine eroticism.
The second entry on the DVD "double feature" is even more bizarre and makes Fanny Hill look like Last Tango in Paris in comparison. The Phantom Gunslinger was shot in Mexico as a vehicle for Albert Zugsmith to prove he was a triple threat talent, with the erstwhile fellow producing, co-writing and directing the resulting disaster. It's clear that without someone like Russ Meyer to at least try to restrain Zugsmith's instincts for broad slapstick, the project was doomed from the start. The plot, such as it is, finds a small Western town taken over by a gang of notorious outlaws. They cause some mild mayhem but mostly seem content to gorge themselves on sumptuous feasts in between flirting with the local saloon girls. The local sheriff is terrified and runs away, turning his badge over to Bill (Troy Donahue), a hunky dimwit who sets about trying to wrest control of the town from the raucous outlaws. That's about as deep as the story line goes. Zugsmith pads the film with so much slapstick it makes the average Three Stooges skit look like the work of Noel Coward. The film is certainly one of the most bizarre of its era and its hard to know whether it was ever even released theatrically in America. There is a painful element to watching Troy Donahue at this stage in his career. Only a few years earlier, he was deemed a bankable star by major studios. Whatever desperate measures persuaded him to be involved in this enterprise will probably never be known but perhaps he was inspired by the success of Clint Eastwood's spaghetti westerns. Eastwood went to Spain and collaborated with a genius named Sergio Leone. Donahue went to Mexico and was saddled with Albert Zugsmith. Such are the cruel ironies of fate. The Phantom Gunslinger is so repetitive in its gags that one is reminded that this is the kind of film they invented the fast forward remote control feature for.
"Jorgensen went abroad and came back a broad!" The joke is indicative of the type of humor, sarcasm and outright condemnation that greeted the world's most legendary individual to have undergone a gender transformation. Jorgensen's name has largely been lost to obscurity in recent years but if you grew up in the 1950s and 1960s, she was a household name. She was born a male, George Jorgensen, in 1926 and had a fairly normal childhood- except for the fact that from a very early age George was haunted by the feeling that he should have been born female. We're not talking about homosexual behavior or tendencies, rather, a deep-seated belief that only becoming an actual female through a surgical procedure could bring him happiness. Jorgensen got his wish when he underwent the procedure in Denmark and returned home as a "she". Predictably the media went into a frenzy and Jorgensen decided that if she couldn't live in obscurity, she would capitalize on her new-found fame. She wrote a best-selling autobiography and transformed her experiences into a campy night club routine before passing away from cancer in 1989.
Jorgensen's book became the basis for The Christine Jorgensen Story, a sincere low-budget film made in 1970 and released by United Artists, which curiously kept its logo confined to the very last roll of the credits as though there was something shameful about a major studio releasing the movie. Jorgensen herself acted as technical adviser on the movie which makes it all the more puzzling as to why there are so many apparent embellishments and lapses from the truth. For one, Jorgensen was not the first person to undergo sex change surgery, as the film implies, although she was certainly the most prominent. The movie also tosses in quite a few plot devices and characters that appear to be wholly created for purposes of artistic license. The movie's melodramatic aspects have become grist for the mill in terms of its reputation as a camp classic. Indeed, there are plenty of unintentional laughs and some over-the-top moments by leading man John Hansen, a blonde haired pretty boy whose career went precisely nowhere after his bold decision to play the title role. Hollywood's glass ceiling on actors affiliated with gay behavior was firmly in place at the time.
Remember the days when you would wear a baggy
raincoat, visit your local independent theater and abuse your genital region
while watching “naughty†films? Maybe the younger “internet porn†readers don’t
(I actually don’t either. I just remember hearing about it while OD’ing on VHS
porn in the 80s), but I know some of you older perverts know what I’m talking
about. You see, during the 1960s and early 70s, you could hit your local
grindhouse theater and see films that are now classified as sexploitation.
These low-budget independent features contained plenty of nudity, but showed
very little in the way of actual onscreen sex, giving them the nickname
“soft-core.†Until hardcore classics like 1972’s Deep Throat and Behind the
Green Door as well as 1973’s The
Devil in Miss Jones arrived on the scene rendering the tamer stuff almost
obsolete, these soft-core flicks (which were also frequently viewed by couples)
were all the rage. And now, the nice folks at Vinegar Syndrome have unearthed
three of them for you to relive or to discover for the very first time.
In the first feature, Marsha, The Erotic Housewife, a young woman (soft-core queen Marsha
Jordan also from Count Yorga, Vampire)
whose businessman husband (Mark Edwards) is cheating on her, decides to teach
him a lesson by fulfilling her sexual fantasies with other men. The second
feature, titled For Single Swingers Only,
tells the tale of Gracie (Ann Myers) who moves into an apartment complex for
swingers, but gets much more than she bargained for. Last, but not least, Her Odd Tastes once again stars Marsha
Jordan, this time as a woman who goes from having an incestuous relationship
with her sister to becoming a door-to-door vibrator saleswoman. She eventually
kills a man in self-defense before being hired by a book publisher to research
sexual pleasure and pain. The insatiable woman travels the world, visiting Hong
Kong, Africa and the Middle East in order to satisfy her strange sexual
cravings.
All three films (which were directed by Don
Davis) may contain washed-out colors and plenty of pops, scratches, jump cuts
and lines; not to mention drab-looking locations, but hey, no one buying a
ticket to see these movies was interested in things like cinematography or
production value. They paid to see some skin and there’s plenty of nudity on
display here. There’s also a lot of kissing and groping (in lieu of everything
else) as well as a bunch of unintentional laughs thanks to silly dialogue, stiff
acting and quite a few so-bad-it’s-good moments. Highlights include a hilarious
“Marsha†theme song, a woman with a very thick Swedish accent, a satanic orgy
where one guy wears a silly-looking goat head mask and, finally, death while
boinking on an electrified chair.
On the downside, the three movies, although
each one only running a little over an hour, all move along at a somewhat slow
pace. Still, I enjoyed them allfor
what they are. (I found Her Odd Tastes to
be the better paced and most entertaining of the three).
The three filmshave all been released on one dual layer DVD by Vinegar Syndrome.
The disc is region free and the movies are presented in their original 1.33:1
aspect ratio. The aforementioned pops, scratches, jump cuts and lines (which us
grindhouse cinema junkies adore) never detract from the story, and the images,
although far from Blu-ray quality, are more than watchable and pretty much what
you would expect something from this genre to look like. There are no special
features, but the DVD sleeve and disc both contain the original poster art for
all three films; my favorite tag line being “In Throbbing Color.†If you’re a
fan of soft-core sex flicks or are just curious to see what they were all about,
I recommend giving this retro drive-in collectiona look.
Herschell Gordon Lewis, whose blood-drenched, over-the-top horror films built a loyal cult audience, has passed away at age 87. Lewis never achieved mainstream recognition but apparently took satisfaction that his bizarre, low-budget films had resonated with their intended audiences. Lewis, a former teacher, became involved in show business by producing and directing commercials, as well as voicing some of them. In 1963 he wrote and directed "Blood Feast", a horror flick on a tiny budget. The film became popular with the "so-bad-its-good" crowd and benefited from a creative marketing campaign. Over the decades, Lewis would continue to market his films to a growing fan base and found a particularly receptive audience in the rural drive-in markets that responded to his humorous approach to horror and sexploitation films. Among his productions: "Scum of the Earth", "Two Thousand Maniacs", "Monster-a-Go-Go", "Something Red" and "The Gruesome Twosome".
London may have been the epicenter of the sexual revolution in the mid-1960s but that still didn't make it easy to see adult entertainment on the screen. The dreaded Office of the Censor wielded Draconian power as the guardians of British morality. Hence, the only place you could see anything remotely erotic on film was through 8mm "loops", short films that ran only minutes. The closest mainstream cinemas got to playing films with nudity was through pretentious "documentaries" that exposed the sordid side of London's nightlife or life in a nudist colony. In reality, these denouncements of promiscuous sex existed strictly to capitalize on promiscuous sex and everyone knew it. Pete Walker was an enterprising young entrepreneur who tried to fill the gap for sex-starved Britons by shooting hastily-arranged, no-budget black and white exploitation films that lasted only minutes. Walker had started in the even more staid early part of the decade by hiring well-endowed, free-spirited young woman to "star" in his modest productions. There was no shortage of talent, as Briton did have a booming market in glamour magazines that featured nude models and starlets. Walker would shoot the silent B&W films on 8mm before graduating to 16mm. The final product would be sold in local book shops for extravagant prices. Walker and the store made tidy profits and the consumer could feast his eyes on some bare female flesh. Everyone was a winner.
In 1969 Walker decided to do something far more ambitious by creating a film with an actual story line and populated by people who could really act. The result was "For Men Only" (AKA "Hot Girls For Men Only"), a ribald comedy that ran a scant 43 minutes but had production values that looked like "Gone With the Wind" compared to his earlier efforts. David Kernan (who played Pvt. Hitch in "Zulu" a few years before) plays Freddie Horn, a young man engaged to marry Rosalie (Andrea Allen). However, she demands that he quit his job as fashion editor for a prominent journal because he is generally assigned to interview beautiful young models who wear barely-there new clothing lines. She's right to be jealous, as Freddie has been living quite the life, indulging in the "fringe benefits" of being around so many willing young women. Reluctantly, he applies for a job as a writer for a bland magazine that will ensure he has no exposure to the fairer sex. He is summoned from London to the countryside to meet his prospective new employer, Miles Fanthorpe (Derek Aylward). He meets Fanthorpe at a local church where he is giving a stern lecture on morality and the decay of society, which he attributes to permissive sex and increasing tolerance of homosexuality. The small crowd responds enthusiastically to his conservative, fire-and-brimstone rant. Freddie is understandably depressed at the prospect of working for such a man but the first clue that not all is as it seems occurs when Fanthorpe gives him a lift back to his manor house- in an Aston Martin DB5. Once at the house, Fanthorpe comes clean. His uses his reputation as a conservative prude to mask his real personality which is that of a sex-obsessed rogue. Fanthorpe then introduces Freddie to his staff, which consists of busty young women of loose morals who spend the entire day romping around in bikinis or sunning themselves while topless. Freddie is understandably delighted to accept the job of writing for one of Fanthorpe's publications that deals with nude models. Within minutes, he is immersed in a virtual orgy- and he understandably forgets a vitally important social engagement for that evening. Seems he has to accompany Rosalie and her parents to a black tie dinner to celebrate their wedding anniversary. The parents can't stand Freddie as it is and have warned Rosalie that he is addicted to skirt chasing. When Freddie doesn't turn up for dinner, Rosalie sets out to trace his whereabouts and ends up at the country manner where she sees the real scenario. Naturally, through happenstance even her prudish parents show up along with a local parson, resulting in a chaotic scene that culminates with a bevy of bikini girls being stuffed into the DB5 for a fast getaway. (Not even 007 enjoyed that privilege.) Although one could term the film as a "sexploitation" title, that doesn't do it justice. "For Men Only" is actually quite amusing and features some very fine comedic performances. The sexual content is quite mild but there is something erotic about seeing these lovely young actresses cavort about while scantily clad. It's like Matt Helm on steroids.
The other feature, "School for Sex", also features Derek Aylward in essentially the same kind of role he played in "For Men Only". Here he is an upper-crust type named Giles Wingate who inherited a manor house and a fortune and blew through it all by marrying a series of opportunistic golddiggers. To pay off his debts, he engages in some dubious financial tactics that end up with him being criminally prosecuted. He's spared a jail sentence and put on probation but still needs to find a way to pay for his lavish lifestyle as well as the salary for his elderly, intensely loyal butler. He comes up with an inspired idea. Since he was snookered by so many lovely young women, he decides to open a "School for Sex" on his premises. The idea is to charge beautiful young women a hefty fee for instructing them how to seduce wealthy men and ensure their financial well-being. In order to carry out the plan, he needs some female assistance. He hires the Duchess of Burwash, a widowed hot-to-trot middle-aged cougar played by Rose Alba, who main claim to fame was her short but memorable appearance as the SPECTRE "widow" who gets socked by James Bond in the opening of "Thunderball". She's a boozy opportunist but she delivers the goods in terms of instructing her students how to seduce naive men. Before long, there are more students than Wingate can accommodate. Rich families are sending their daughters for instruction, thinking they will be attending a finishing school for sophisticated young women. Instead, they will run around naked and engage in sex techniques. The film comes to an ironic conclusion as Wingate becomes a victim of his own success. "School for Sex" is described by Pete Walker as the worst movie he ever made. He blames himself for not getting a professional screenwriter and trying to keep costs down by writing the script himself. Although not as polished as "For Men Only", it still has its amusing moments and there is plenty of eye candy in the form of the lovely young ladies. The performances of Aywayrd and Alba are also very funny. The film is a bit more daring than "For Men Only" in that it does include topless sequences and a glimpse or two of full nudity.
Kino Lorber has released both films as a Blu-ray double feature edition. Both remastered prints look excellent and the special features in the package are most welcome. Pete Walker provides a new filmed interview and gives some interesting insights into the world of sexploitation films in England during the 1960s. There are also numerous Walker "loops", the early B&W silent nudie flicks as well as a trailer for "School for Sex" and alternate footage from the film featuring full nudity that was shot for the Japanese market.
In summary, it's a delightful trip down Mammary Lane for anyone who appreciates the low-brow pleasures of such "naughty" entertainment.
As the introduction explains, this is not an
attempt at a definitive guide but rather to be a companion piece to some of the
films released on the Arrow label; to extend enjoyment and expand upon some of
the cult material for fans old and new. A
significant portion of the text here has been recycled from Arrow's
already-published DVD and Blu-Ray booklets, but this is made clear from the
outset (also noted throughout where relevant) and collectors may appreciate the
comprehensive assortment here in book form nonetheless, alongside new and
extended discussions.
Arrow Video's book provides a whistle-stop
tour of the great and the good of cult, horror and genre cinema here, arranged
nicely into sub-sections focusing on cult movies, directors, actors, genres and
distribution respectively. An overview
of the topics conjures up a nostalgic mixture of fare presented on cult TV
shows like Videodrome, or The Incredibly Strange Film Show; as director Ben
Wheatley aptly notes in his foreword, "I'm profoundly jealous of anybody
coming fresh to the back catalogue of world and genre cinema. It's mind expanding and f*****g
great." Long standing cult film fans
may well be more than happy to revisit examinations of Deep Red, Zombie Flesh
Eaters, Withnail and I, The 'Burbs and others whilst those just beginning to discover
these hidden pleasures (of whom I share Ben Wheatley's envy) are well directed
toward classic gems.
Directors like David Cronenberg, Tinto Brass,
Wes Craven and George A. Romero are deservedly examined; whilst it is glorious
to see Lloyd Kaufman (of Troma films) included in such an illustrious list, it
is a shame that no female directors are noted. This is redressed somewhat in the section on actors, with the inclusion
of chapters on Meiko Kaji and Pam Grier alongside Vincent Price and Boris
Karloff. Cult sub-genres under review
range from the well-known spaghetti western and giallo through to the less-obvious
Brazilian 1970s sexploitation genre 'Pornochanchada' and Canuxploitation
(post-1990s Canadian B-movies), amongst others. The final section on distribution is good to see, as the mechanics
behind and social context of cult cinema can often be at least interesting as
the films themselves. These chapters
provide overviews of the early days of cult and exploitation cinema, a look at
the Super-8 format, film festivals, fanzines and the more recent Asian DVD
explosion.
It is a shame that in a glossy presentation
like this, clearly aimed at fans, where film posters are presented near full-page,
the decision has been made to treat images of film stills like columns of text,
split in half with a thick white line. Nonetheless, this is a very clear and accessible look at cult cinema,
with the inclusion of some less obvious subject matter alongside must-see
classics which would remiss to exclude in a companion such as this.
The Vinegar Syndrome video label continues to unearth obscure examples of 1960s erotica. None is more bizarre than "Infrasexum", a 1969 concoction by director/actor Carlos Tobalina, who would ultimately be regarded as one of the more prolific hardcore filmmakers. Back in '69, however, it was still difficult to get theatrical showings of hardcore films, which were generally relegated to 8mm film loops sold in adult book stores. Tabolina tried to push the envelope with "Infrasexum" but was still confined by the dreaded "community standards" obscenity laws that mandated only soft-core movies could generally be shown without causing a major legal flap from local conservative groups that had routinely declared war on pornography. "Infrasexum" (I have no idea what the title means and apparently neither did Tobalina) attempts to tell a poignant story about the toll the aging process takes on sexual libido. The film opens in the offices of Mr. Allison (Eroff Lynn), a fifty-something successful business executive who is despondent over the routine lifestyle he is leading. He has money galore but exists in a gloomy state of mind. He's also depressed (in this pre-Viagara era) about his inability to perform sexually with his bombshell wife (Marsha Jordan), who prances about their penthouse clad in a see-through nightee. Determined to start a new life, Allinson sends his wife a goodbye letter, turns the control of his company over to two trusted employees and takes off for parts unknown. He immediately feels liberated from the day-to-day grind. He ends up in Las Vegas and almost reluctantly wins $250,000 in cash. He doesn't need the money but for the first time in ages he feels he's on a winning streak. He drives to L.A. where he has a chance encounter with Carlos (Carlos Tobalina), a somewhat kooky but charismatic man who routinely grubs money from him but also introduces him to a new lifestyle with his hippie friends. Before long, Allison is taking in rock shows in discotheques on the Sunset Strip and experimenting with pot. Carlos tries on several occasions to cure Allison's sexual problems by setting him up with willing young women but the result is always frustrating failure to launch. At one point an unrelated sub-plot is introduced in which Allison is kidnapped by two thugs who threaten his life and shake him down for big money. They also murder a helpless young woman in his presence. In one of the lamest action sequences ever filmed, Allison breaks free and kills both men in an unintentionally hilarious manner. Allison treats this presumably life-altering incident as though it's a minor distraction and before long is taking up his lifetime's goal of becoming a painter. An admiring young woman invites him back to her house but, once again, Allison can't seal the deal between the sheets and he has to call Carlos over to act as his stand-in!
It's difficult to say exactly what Tobalina expected to accomplish with this film. Is it an attempt to present a poignant look at the frustrations of the aging process with some full-frontal nudity tossed in? Or did he intend to simply dress up a sexploitation film with some legitimate dramatic story line aspects? In either case, the result is downright weird. Tobalina's insertion of a gruesome murder also seems like an after-thought designed to appeal to horror movie fans. It's got plenty of gore but is so unconvincingly shot and directed that the sequence elicits more laughter than chills. Whatever early talent Tobalina might have conveyed on screen is compromised by the bare bones production budget, which was probably close to zero. Technical blunders abound. In some scenes you can see the shadow of the cameraman in center frame. In others, people's voices are heard even though their lips aren't moving. Still, the film at least aspires to be superior to most soft-core grind house fare of the era. As a trip back in time, it has merit. It presents some wonderful, extended views of the Las Vegas Strip, for example, and we can relish the marquees extolling such performers as Frank Sinatra, Jimmy Durante, Don Ho and Little Richard. Tobalina also gets out of the bedrooms long enough to take us on a scenic tour of local L.A. sites as well as the Sierra Nevadas. Tobalina is at his best when he gets out of the boudoir and shows us travelogue-like footage. On a coarser level, the film also provides an abundance of good looking young women who romp around starkers. The movie would be primarily of interest to baby boomer males who want a trip back in time to an era in which such fare was considered daring and controversial. It's bizarre qualities will also appeal to fans of cult sexlpoitation films.
The Vinegar Syndrome release looks great and the remastered print even shows us the grit and dirt that occasionally appeared on the camera lens. An original trailer is also included that is truly a laugh riot, in that a God-like voice virtually commands us to see "Infrasexum" because it's a "classic".
One of the more enjoyable aspects of the Cinema Retro experience is that we continue to get inundated with review copies of niche market DVD and Blu-ray titles pertaining to films we've never heard of. Many of these come from Vinegar Syndrome (so-called for the nefarious affliction that attaches itself to old reels of film if they are not stored correctly.) The company has earned kudos for not only rescuing obscure titles from oblivion but releasing them in remastered versions that often include bonus extras. Much of the company's product line consists of vintage hardcore porn from the 1960s-1980s but Vinegar Syndrome also releases bizarre exploitation films from this era as well. Case in point: "The Cut-Throats", a 1969 WWII opus that is aptly described on the DVD sleeve as a cross between Nazisloitation and sexploitation genres. What is Nazisploitation? Well, it's a sordid sub-genre of low-budget film-making that took off in the 1970s and had a limited, but profitable run over the next decade. The subject matter was particularly distasteful: it involved the sexual torture and exploitation of female prisoners and concentration camp inmates as a device for stimulation. (Think "The Night Porter" without the redeeming factors.) Perhaps the most notorious of the Nazisploitation films was the infamous "Ilsa: She Wolf of the S.S." , a twisted and sickening exercise in cinematic offensiveness that should result in your crossing anyone you know who enjoyed it off your list of house guests (click here for review). "The Cut-Throats" is not a Nazisploitation film in that regard. Yes, there are women who are constantly groped but in this case the females are willing and mostly prone to doing some groping themselves. The movie was directed by one John Hayes, who apparently has a cult following for his Ed Wood-like ability to see his dream projects through despite a lack of funding or resources. This admirable quality is on display in "The Cut-Throats" from the very first frames.
The film opens on a bizarre note: a painted backdrop of a cowboy over which we hear someone warbling an old-fashioned western song. (The score is by Jamie Mendoza-Nava, who went on to compose music for other more notable "B" movies.) At first I thought I had accidentally put on some old John Ford film with the Sons of the Pioneers singing over the opening credits. Hayes's decision to open the movie with this song never makes sense in the course of what follows beyond a brief opening scene of a G.I. using a lasso. We are then introduced to the no-name cast as we see an American colonel recruit a handful of men to accompany him on a dangerous mission to infiltrate a remote German outpost and capture important documents and battle plans. What the G.I.s don't realize is that they are being duped into helping him secure possession of a chest of priceless jewels that is being hidden inside the German HQ. When the men infiltrate the compound, they quickly dispatch the German soldiers, only to find that the place is actually a bordello. The sexy females on site quickly switch allegiance and put on a bizarre stage performance consisting of singing and dancing in costume(!) Things heat up pretty quickly from that point with the G.I.s understandably lowering their resistance and bedding the young women. In one of the film's few attempts to provide some outright humor, one G.I. of German ancestry finds he is sexually stimulated by making love on a bed draped in Swastika sheets while listening to records of Hitler's speeches. Once the corrupt colonel intimidates a prostitute into showing him the hidden treasure, he considers his own men to be expendable. He uses a skirmish with a passing German motorcade as a cover to murder his own men. The film's climax finds him going mano-a-mano with a surviving German colonel as they duel over who gets possession of the jewels. (Ironically, the plot device of corrupt Americans and corrupt German soldiers vying for a fortune in stolen treasure bares a similarity to the finale of "Kelly's Heroes", which was produced the same year.)
"The Cut-Throats" is such a mess that it boggles the mind to imagine that even drive-ins or grindhouse cinemas would have shown it back in the day. However, the sexual revolution in film was a new phenomenon so any outlet horny male viewers had to ogle naked women on screen was probably assured of some financial success. The movie was clearly not made for the Noel Coward crowd. The film has an abundance of guilty pleasures, not the least of which is the fact that the film is set in "Germany". I use quotation marks because it appears this is a Germany from an alternate dimension, unless in my travels I somehow missed the nation's desert areas, where the action takes place. Then we have the main location, the German military compound which is clearly a modern housing unit that is either being constructed or deconstructed. With the house boasting a modern American facade and an empty in-ground swimming pool, one is tempted to suspect that director Hayes simply appropriated an abandoned property for the few days it probably took to film this epic. The premise is like staging a WWII action film on the same sets where "Leave It To Beaver" was shot. The editing process looks like it was achieved with a chainsaw, with abrupt cuts in abundance. There is virtually no character development beyond the most simplistic characteristics afforded the principals. Hayes did manage to find the budget for some period G.I. uniforms and weapons, as well as few German WWII-era vehicles (though one of them seems to be adorned with the Afrika Corps symbol even though the fighting is supposed to be taking place in Germany.) For cult movie purists, about the only recognizable face....well, not exactly face....I became aware of is that of Uschi Digard, whose legendary assets figure into a ludicrous sequence in which she plays the secretary to the German colonel. Upon hearing that the war is officially over, she doffs her uniform and seduces the German's young adjutant by going starkers and serving him a bottle of wine in a unique manner- by first pouring it over her trademark natural assets. The scene is representative of the entire goofy atmosphere of the production. The sex scenes feature full female nudity but never go into hardcore territory. A somewhat kinky aspect involves a scene in which two G.I's are engaging in a threesome with one of the prostitutes. One of the G.I.'s gets so carried away that he begins to caress his friend. Seeing gay sex on screen, even if played for laughs, was rather groundbreaking for 1969. Another amusing aspect of the film is the fact that some of the G.I.s and German soldiers sport hair styles that make them look like they were auditioning for The Grateful Dead.
"The Cut-Throats" will appeal only to those dedicated retro movie lovers who revel in "D" level (or in this case "double D" level) obscurities such as this. I personally enjoyed watching this train wreck of an indie film and have some grudging respect for the people involved. Back in the pre-video camera era, it was an expensive and cumbersome task to bring even a slight venture like this to reality. The Vinegar Syndrome transfer is excellent on all levels. The packaging features what I presume is the original one-sheet movie poster art which is appropriately awful. There is also an original trailer that features a narrator who seems to be doing a poor Orson Welles imitation in relating the action as though he were the voice of God. A selection of still photos are also included but they are censored with bikini tops drawn on the women so that they could be displayed in neighborhood theaters.
"The Cut-Throats" DVD is limited to only 1,500 copies.
As
a cult favorite, actress Edwige Fenech
has numerous movie moments that are ingrained into the minds of many
Italian men who came of age in the 1970’s. Yet there is one particular moment, running topless in slow-motion
through a field of flowers, that is probably more memorable then the rest. Many words come to mind when trying to
describe this scene: Crude. Low-brow. Gratuitous. All of these are
excellent adjectives to use when trying to sum up 1973’s Ubalda, All Naked and Warm. Besides giving audiences an (extremely) intimate look at Ms.
Fenech, this was the film that famously
(or infamously) proved that the Italian “sexy comedies†could be commercially
viable. Although not a for
everyone, Ubalda is perfect for fans who wish to delve more deeply into the
overlooked cult titles of Italy’s yesteryear.
Olimpio
(Pippo Franco) is a hapless knight who has just returned home after a long and
brutal war. As can be expected, he wants
nothing more than to eat fresh food, have a nice bath, and find comfort in the
arms of his beautiful wife Fiamma (Karin Schubert). Before he had left, Olimpio had his wife
fitted with a chastity built in order to ensure that she remained faithful. Yet when he returns home, he finds that Fiamma
is less then eager to return his affections (even with the chastity belt, she
has numerous other suitors lined
up). After she steals the key to the
belt (a fact which delights her suitors), she informs Olimpio that she has
taken a vow of “chastityâ€, and suggests that her husband focus his energies
toward making peace with their neighbor instead of making love. Discouraged, Olimpio accepts his wife’s words
and heads over to the home of Master Oderisi (Umberto D’Orsi) in order to make
amends. Yet as soon as he sees Oderisi’s
new wife, he quickly has other ideas.
As
it turns out, Lady Ubalda (Edwige Fenech), is as equally unhappy in her
marriage as Fiamma is in hers. Initially, she is only too happy to add Olimpio to her list of secret
lovers, but quickly loses interest after his plan to bed her fails. Frustrated at home, both Olimpio and Oderisi
eventually agree to swap wives. Yet
their plan sets in motion a chain of events that will forever change their lives
in a very unexpected way. By the time
the film is over, neither man has to worry about the other ever trying to bed
their wife again.
Original soundtrack.
Made
with a budget of roughly $50,000, the
film grossed more than $400,000 at the box office, making it a huge success. (Although people under the age of 18 were not
admitted into the theaters, it is interesting to think of all the creative ways
that teenagers concocted in their attempts to sneak in). After Ubalda’s
stunning success, the Italian sex comedies (known in Italy as “commedia sexy
all’italianaâ€) became a huge sensation. Aside from the medieval setting, these films tended to center around
numerous other cliched subjects, such as: nurses, policewomen, and lady medics. Unsurprisingly, many of these films would
follow Ubalda’sexample and give top billing to Edwige Fenech.
Fenech was, beyond a doubt, the
break-out star of the movie. Already
known for her roles in the giallos, Ubalda
made Fenech an instant sex siren. It
is little wonder; gifted with natural beauty, she could light up any screen,
regardless of her role. (The fact that
the film featured her disrobing probably made the screen shine even brighter
for many in attendance). On top of her
more obvious attributes, Edwige Fenech also possessed a natural flair for
comedy. Throughout Ubalda, her
wry humor proves to be the perfect compliment to Franco's over the top antics.
Although her glamor and comedy would never grant her universal recognition,
Fenech would still make a decent career for herself.
Loving
and sexy housewife Ellen (Gigi Darlene) likes nothing more than taking out the
trash in her neglige. Unfortunately this turns the janitor into a rapist, who
gets his comeuppance when she kills him in self-defence. Instead of telling her
husband what happened, Ellen goes on the run and finds that the world is a
cruel place to sexy outlaws. Ellen moves from abusive situation to abusive
situation before coming perilously close to being caught by a detective. Is
Ellen a victim, or does her penchant for nudity mean she really is a "Bad
Girl"?
Doris
Wishman is a somewhat fascinating character. Almost fifty by the time she
directed her first film, she started out with "nudie cuties"; tame,
often comical films mainly shot in nudist camps. These films, including Nude
on the Moon (1961) and Gentlemen Prefer Nature Girls (1963) feature
the kind of corny plot-lines and creaky acting that would have seemed dated in
1940s B features. However, working outside the studio system and therefore not
worried about the Hollywood Production Code, what Wishman could do was shoot
boobs. Lots of boobs. The nudist camp film had grown in popularity in both the
US and Europe during the late 1950s and no matter how bad these were, they
would always make money. As her films became more violent and exploitative they
became known as "roughies". Women were generally the victims of male
aggression and subjugation, and there was a focus on rape and violence. Bad
Girls Go to Hell (1965) falls into this latter category, and it is often
hailed as one of the sleaziest films ever made. What was perhaps unusual was
the fact that Wishman was a female director working in a very male-dominated
genre. Her films can be seen as more than just sexploitation, and Wishman gives
her female characters a sense of power and freedom. Despite the degradation
they go through, the women in her films often win out over the men. Sadly, in
this particular film, the ending suggests that women will always be victims, and
it could even be their own fault. Doris Wishman was a controversial filmmaker,
and this film is unlikely to win her many feminist admirers. She went on to
achieve permanent infamy with the pair of films Double Agent 73 and Deadly
Weapons (both 1974), featuring the uniquely-endowed Chesty Morgan killing
men with her enormous assets.
This
DVD of Bad Girls Go to Hell has been put out by Apprehensive Films, and
the print is the same found on Something Weird's earlier release. It is a
surprisingly good picture for such a low budget grindhouse film. It is a real
slice of the greasy underbelly of 1960s American life. The soundtrack is also
fun, featuring some great 1960s instrumental pop. This DVD features an awful
short film which has nothing to do with Doris Wishman, and left this reviewer
confused as to it's inclusion. Also featured are some trailers for other
Apprehensive Films DVDs, mostly of the obscure exploitation variety and again,
not related to this film at all.
Joe Dante's "Trailers from Hell" web site features another esteemed director, John Landis, providing commentary and observations about Roger Vadim's wacko 1971 sexploitation/comedy/murder mystery "Pretty Maids All in a Row". Landis points out that MGM was at death's door from a financial standpoint and to stay alive, the studio started grinding out exploitation films that were given a glossier look by the casting of reputable big names in the lead roles. "Pretty Maids" finds Rock Hudson, giving a terrific performance, as a lecherous high school coach who systematically beds seemingly every good looking, under-age female student he comes in contact with. There is no shortage of them, either. Vadim's cinematic wet dream finds every girl to be a sex-crazed, jaw-dropping beauty. That can also describe Angie Dickinson, a cougar teacher with a habit of seducing under-aged male students. Things start to go awry when some of the girls start turning up dead. Telly Savalas is the L.A. police detective assigned to crack the case. The inspired supporting cast includes Roddy McDowell and Keenan Wynn. As Landis observes, the film is outrageously sleazy and politically incorrect and it would be inconceivable for any major studio to even consider releasing it today. (Needless to say, we love it.) However, back in the crazy '70s, both studios and filmmakers were far more daring and far less apologetic about their undertakings on screen. Bizarrely, the film was written and produced by Gene Roddenberry. Go figure.
Click here to view the trailer with or without the Landis commentary.
The 8mm stag movie "loops" that defined the pornography industry until the advent of home video were generally considered to be the Rodney Dangerfields of the cinematic medium in that they didn't get no respect. Of late, however, a number of niche DVD labels have turned to exploiting this sexploitation. The latest is Cult Epics which has released "Vintage Erotica anno 1970", a somewhat unusual collection of 8mm porn shorts that that were defined by the fact that they had longer running times than the loops shown in "private viewing booths" in porn palaces located in red light districts in major cities around the world. The films included on this DVD have some degree of production values and make at least a feeble attempt to present a narrative. These short films have running times between 15 and 30 minutes. All were titles and scripted and some had recorded sound while others were shot as silent movies with a musical soundtrack added later. The shorts presented here are all from Europe and were filmed in the early 1970s. The initial offering features a couple of dozen hippies converging on an isolated wilderness area. They are carrying signs indicating that they are engaging in a "Love-in". They don't waste any time, either, getting down to having an orgy in between strumming folk music on guitars. This was a silent film and a perky, upbeat light rock score has been added. Other segments presented vary from serious attempts to present erotic situations to the age-old tradition of including slapstick comedy in the various scenarios.
Cult Epics has presented these films via a new transfer but there is still varying color quality, blotches and other imperfections. Somehow such deficiencies only add to the enjoyment of watching such fare. As lighthearted as some of the films are, keep in mind these are hardcore productions that leave nothing to the imagination. The clothing may be from the garish 1970s but there are certain consistencies with today's erotic movies, given the fact that no matter how imaginative the participants are, there is still only a finite number of acts that can be performed by men and women (and, given the genre, women and women.) There is a certain innocence to this type of erotica, however. Unlike much of today's porn, which is often defined by acts of violence or outright perversions, these films recall a more -shall we say "wholesome"?- era for the genre. The participants are all happy-go-lucky, the sex is innocent and guilt-free and the scenarios recall an era in which Jerry Lewis-like comedy could actually be combined into hardcore films. Quite obviously, such films are not everyone's cup of tea. However, if you have fond memories of sneaking a peak at such "forbidden fare" when you were young, the Cult Epics release merits "must see" viewing status.
Have
you ever wondered what M*A*S*H would have been like if, instead of
rebelling in a Korean field hospital and taking a satirical swipe at the
Vietnam war, Elliott Gould and Donald Sutherland had actually been CIA
operatives in contemporary Paris? Probably not, but somebody in 1974 did and commissioned
a film that would be marketed solely on the chemistry of its two leads. Sadly
no one else involved with movie seemed to think it worthwhile to write a decent
script or throw any money into the project. This film looks so cheap that,
during a scene where Sutherland is washing up, you suspect that he was doing
this between takes as well.
Gould
and Sutherland play agents Griff and Bruland, who are both working separately
in Paris until an accidental assassination attempt by their own agency brings them
together. Incidentally this bombing takes place in a pissoire (urinal), which
gives an early indication of how grubby this film will get. Martinson, played
by British actor Joss Ackland, is the Chief of the Paris branch of the CIA, and
to make amends for nearly killing them, he puts them together on a new case.
Their task is to smuggle a defector from the Russian Olympic team back to New
York. However, when rival British agents get involved, it all goes horribly
wrong, and once again Griff and Bruland narrowly escape a CIA bomb. So now they
are rogue ex-agents out to survive attempts on their lives whilst earning money
through shady deals involving French revolutionaries, the Russian ambassador
and the Chinese secret service. Much farce ensues.
The
film, shot in the UK and on location in Paris, plays more like a Bob Hope and
Bing Crosby Road to... movie, or, with the heavy British influence, the
Morecambe and Wise film The Magnificent Two. Ackland is like a poor
man's Herbert Lom from the Pink Panther films, and Sutherland and Gould
play the film like they used to have fun together a few years ago, but not so
much any more. A lot of the film feels like the director is time filling. A
return trip from Paris to London serves no other purpose than to allow for
stock travel footage. This is perhaps a surprise when you learn that the
director is none other than Irvin Kershner, who started out in film noir but is
best known for saving the Star Wars
franchise with The Empire Strikes Back. S*P*Y*S represents
something of a low in his CV.
For
reasons most likely forgotten, the film had a score by Jerry Goldsmith on its
US release, but in Europe a new score was recorded by John Scott, a jazz
musician whose career now spans more than fifty years, covering everything from
horror and sexploitation to TV themes and epics. His score for S*P*Y*S,
found on this new DVD release, is fairly conventional, and in all likelihood
the audience will be too busy straining to hear anything funny from the cast to
notice it.
One
point of interest here is that the film offers an appearance of Zouzou, who
plays a sexy revolutionary. In the 1960s, through her involvement with Brian
Jones of The Rolling Stones, she became a celebrity and French icon before
trying singing and acting. Addicted to heroin she dropped out of acting shortly
after S*P*Y*S, presumably because she watched it.
Fans
of Elliott Gould or Donald Sutherland will no doubt want to pick this up, but
for everyone else it is a less than essential release. With a plot that can be
found in countless Euro-spy and Bond rip-offs, and unable to compensate for
this with sparkling wit or charm, S*P*Y*S has little to offer. Watch M*A*S*H
again instead.
This
new DVD release from Network Releasing features a decent print. The colours are
rather drab, but one suspects that is how the film has always looked. As
mentioned, the soundtrack features the European rather than the original Jerry
Goldsmith score. The only extras are a rather brief stills gallery and the
original theatrical trailer, which really hammers home just how great it will
be to see Gould and Sutherland do their thing again. If only it proved to be true...
DVD
production company Vinegar Syndrome seems to be trying to pick up the market
that Something Weird Video has cultivated over the past fifteen years or so. And
that is a good thing! Their desire to restore and release as many independently
produced exploitation films as possible is both laudable and impressive. I
count myself as a cult film fan but a look at their list of titles leaves me scratching
my head in wonderment as I have never heard of most of the movies they are
dealing to the public. My few dips into the VS catalog have been interesting,
sleazy fun but I was caught off guard by this disc. The company is following
the Something Weird template of having each DVD comprised of a double feature
of titles that have some kind of themed connection. In this case we have two
set-bound, low budget talky dramas spiced with sex in one case and ..... I'm
not sure what in the other.
The
Candidate (1964) was pitched to me as a sexploitation film staring Ted Knight
and my mind rejected that description sight unseen. There can be no such film,
said logic and reason. Surely the planet would rip asunder if such a movie
existed, said sanity. Ted Knight of The Mary Tyler Moore show engaged in sexual
shenanigans? This cannot be true. And in the end this thought process was proven
right enough for me to retain my intellect after screening the film. Now, there
are sexploitation elements in the film as you might expect with any film that
top lines sex kitten Mamie Van Doren, but those are the least interesting
parts. (Of the film, I mean…) She plays Samantha, a hard working modern woman
who, because of a chance encounter with senatorial candidate Frank Carlton (Ted
Knight), is offered a job by conniving campaign runner Eric (Buddy Parker)
aiming to work for the prospective senator. She agrees and we are then shown
the complicated way various relationships shape the campaign and how it all
falls apart. In a strange choice, the story is related as a series of
flashbacks as the main characters are grilled in front of a Congressional
hearing which causes the film to feel like a mild and overly solemn
courtroom drama. It can be pretty entertaining to watch Eric procure ladies for
the Washington elite but the film bogs down once the shape of the downfall of
Knight's character comes into focus. Parker plays the ruthless Eric as a
cynical bastard and he isn't bad in the role but its Knight who is most
impressive. As his character meets and falls in love with Angela (June
Wilkinson) we see this shy man come alive and have to face the fact that the
woman he cares for will destroy his hoped-for career. Knight is exceptional in
the role, investing great care in showing very nuanced emotions as he struggles
with his options. In the scenes involving his character, the film is solid and
the courtroom sequences are very well- scripted.However, the rest of the movie-
the sexploitation parts- are dry as dust. This is the film's problem- it has
half of a good movie but it has been shackled to a silly lingerie show with
Miss Van Doren. In the end The Candidate isn't a bad movie but it isn't very
good either, which is a shame.
Vinegar
Syndrome has coupled the main feature with a decidedly 'B' picture from 1957
called Johnny Gunman. If The Candidate sometimes felt a bit set-bound, it looks
better with this movie immediately following it. Extremely low budget, the film
seems to have been shot on the cheap and quick with little time for second
takes. The story takes place in New York (I think) as gangster Johnny G (Martin
Brooks) spends a long night hiding out from a rival hood. This other gang boss
named Allie (Johnny Seven) is up for the same new position as Johnny but has
the added impetus of a Lady MacBeth-like girlfriend pushing him to off the
competition. While on the run from gunmen, Johnny finds himself in a cafe where
he threatens the patrons and then propositions the only pretty girl in the
place, Coffee (Ann Donaldson). The other customers don't like the idea of this
nice girl spending all night with this dangerous man so a bargain is worked
out- she will spend two hours with each of the three men who want her attention
over the next six hours. If this sounds artificial, you are right. The rest of
the movie plays out with Coffee spending her required time with each man as she
seeks a story worth writing about- she's a journalist, you see. As you might
expect, she falls for Johnny's criminal charms and must decide if she will
return to her little home town or stay in the big city to love a bad man good. To
call this film dull is to be too nice. It has a 67 minute running time and I
nearly dozed off twice in the first forty-five minutes. The movie feels both
rushed and static with only a few poorly constructed sets on view. The acting
is half-hearted with Miss Donaldson taking top honors as the stiffest actress in
memory. Some of her line deliveries are as if she had never read the script
before walking onto the hastily nailed together set. Ugh! Save yourself the
time and skip it.
The
DVD carries no extras but both movies look very good. The Candidate is in very
sharp black & white anamorphic 1.85:1 widescreen presentation with Johnny
Gunman looking just as good on a 1.33:1 print. I might have wished for some
more information on these movies but in the end I'm just happy they are
available. Well, I'm happy one of them
is available.
Stelvio
Cipriani's beautiful percussion based score for Joe D'Amato's ORGASMO NERO (1980)
(CSC 014) sits very nicely alongside Chris' Soundtrack Corner’s previously
released PAPAYA DEI CARAIBI (1978) (CSC 006). Both films are among D’Amato’s
island-based sexploitation features and both were scored by Italian composer
Cipriani. Both of Cipriani’s scores are superb examples of Mondo-exotica/erotica
film music. Beyond the percussion based tribal themes there are also many
subtle and romantic pieces that reflect the sun, sand and sexuality – each of
which were often the staple exponents of European cult cinema of the 70s. Yes,
these films were of course adult sub-genres, and in this case the focus was on American
born actor Richard Harrison who plays Paul, an ethnological researcher who is
investigating a little known island tribe. Paul is accompanied on the trip by
his wife Helen (played by Spanish actress Nieves Navarro). Helen subsequently begins
a sexual relationship with Haini (Lucia Ramirez), a beautiful black tribeswoman
who exercises a lusty ‘primitive’ sexuality. Thus begins a fractured love triangle
– a relationship that is further complicated when Paul and Helen take Haini
back with them to the big city. From here on, D’Amato relies on a very familiar
and tested formula, using each occurring situation as the premise for a soft
porn sequence.
Cipriani's
music is always reliable and often outlives the film itself, and this again
proves to be the case with ORGASMO NERO. Cipriani provides some rich Bossa
cuts, but you are never too far away from a piece of evocative, multi layered
ambiance. Cipriani wisely chose a contrast of styles, an intelligent decision
on his part – as it isn’t hard to imagine how other (and arguably lessor) composers
may have simply relegated it to one particular genre. Fans and collectors of Cipriani’s
work will certainly have little problem melting into this latest release and no
doubt take to it like an old familiar friend.
Brutalization is just the latest example of a film being re-titled and packaged for DVD in order to disingenuously imply that it is a sexploitation title. In fact, the original title of the movie is Because of the Cats, an admittedly esoteric creation that may bare relevance to the plot but undoubtedly didn't have movie fans lining up at boxoffices around the world. The 1973 Dutch crime thriller has been released on DVD by the niche market company One7Movies. The film does indeed begin with a shocking sequence of sexual abuse as a middle-aged couple return to their Amsterdam apartment only to find it is being robbed by a gang of young men in stocking masks. They humiliate the couple by stripping and gang raping the woman while making her helpless husband observe the degrading act. Police Inspector van der Valk (British actor Bryan Marshall) is assigned to the case and sent to the affluent town of Bloemendaal where clues indicate the young men reside. It turns out the gang is also behind a series of local robberies in which homes are routinely trashed and family heirlooms maliciously destroyed. In keeping with the era, van der Valk is no ordinary cop: he's a maverick. Upon arriving in town, he seduces Feodora (gorgeous Alexandra Stewart), a local prostitute. He's rather obnoxious with local police colleagues and doesn't think twice about joining "persons of interest" in a few drinks while he interviews them about the case. The clues lead to a group of well-heeled young men in their late teens and early twenties who call themselves The Ravens. This is no street gang, however, but rather a cult-like organization that prides itself on a code of secrecy and military-like discipline. van der Valk observes that virtually all of the suspects have several things in common: they are from affluent families and have been spoiled throughout their lives by indulgent parents who never spent any "quality time" with them. Cracking the gang becomes even more important when one of their members turns up dead in what appears to be a scuba diving accident. van der Valk suspects murder by other gang members who may have believed the young man was about to talk to authorities. The detective also investigates a similar cult of young women known as The Cats who interact with The Ravens and occasionally engage in sex orgies with their members.
The film, which is largely unknown in the United States, was originally rated X but was cut to adhere to an R rating. Few people ever heard of it, let alone saw it. Presumably the DVD release is the unrated European cut. The rape scene is certainly shocking with frontal nudity but it's not as overtly brutal as it might have been. There are other instances of full nudity peppered throughout the film but most of the other sequences are presented somewhat tastefully. As a mystery, the film is surprisingly effective. Director Fons Rademakers has a crude but compelling way of presenting the story in an engrossing way, even if some of the plot devices and characters become occasionally confusing. He also makes good use of the Dutch locations and although the film features shocking acts of violence, they are never overly-exploited. As a leading man Bryan Marshall gives a strong performance. He's hip, hunky and charismatic...and one wonders why he never progressed beyond the supporting actor stage. (James Bond fans will recognize him as one of the British submarine commanders from The Spy Who Loved Me.) Alexandra Stewart adds the requisite sex appeal and there are some other familiar faces to be found including another Bond movie veteran, George Baker (On Her Majesty's Secret Service) and future Emmanuelle sex siren Sylvia Kristel as a teenage girl gang member. The performances by all of the supporting players are extremely good. The film moves to a satisfying conclusion as the mystery to the young man's death is tied to an unexpected and rather exotic cause.
The DVD presentation is good, considering source material for a film such as this can be a "take what you can get" scenario. The DVD also includes an original British trailer with crudely inserted English language titles. In all, an impressive and interesting film. Recommended.
The Shadowplay DVD label has released the 1984 film Hookers on Davie Street (aka Hookers on Davie). Despite the sensational title, this is not a sexploitation film. In fact, it's a sobering look at particularly sordid area of Vancouver during a period when prostitutes trawled for customers apparently without any interference from local authorities. The documentary was directed by two female filmmakers, Janis Cole and Holly Dale and won an award at the Chicago International Film Festival. It was also nominated for the Canadian version of the Oscar, the Genie Award, in the category of Best Documentary. The film traces the nightly ordeals of a diverse group of prostitutes that includes young women and transvestites, each of whom suffers the indignity of standing on a street corner and soliciting drivers to pay them for sex in their cars or back in a squalid motel room. The filmmakers obviously had gained the trust of their subjects and were allowed extraordinary access to these wayward souls who share their stories on camera. Virtually all of them came from broken homes, foster homes or juvenile centers and most started their careers as prostitutes very early in life, some before they were teenagers. Most seem to regret having to do this for a living but feel that they have no other choice. The hookers in question pride themselves on working in a "pimp-free" zone where they band together to keep out those who would exploit them even further. Aware of the risks they take every night by getting into cars with strange men, the group does what it can to rescue any of their peers from particularly dangerous situations. Nevertheless, some of the women describe frightening encounters with men who beat them and, in some cases, threaten their lives. If there is a central figure in the film it is Mark, a transvestite who goes under the name of "Michelle". He is half-way through a transgender operation and struts his stuff on the pavement wearing a garish dress with an ample bust line constantly on display. He shamelessly discusses how he got into sordid sex after being abused by an older man and seems unconcerned about the way he now makes a living. A visit from his distraught mother is especially moving when she describes on camera how she still loves her son despite the wreck he has made of his life. The film shows the prostitutes gathering for nightly "rest breaks" in a hotel bar where they joke and laugh the way any other co-workers might be expected to. However, there is an underlying tragic circumstance behind each of their stories. The movie also doesn't shy away from showing some of the "johns" who patronize the hookers. One has to wonder if they aren't as pathetic in their own way as the prostitutes are. After all, the hookers are victims of circumstance while the johns are generally married, relatively affluent men who feel obliged to pay for their thrills. The film culminates in coverage of a protest march by local prostitutes to lobby for legalization of their trade. (Canadian laws concerning prostitution have been criticized for being vague. Prostitution is technically legal but can be prosecuted under certain circumstances if deemed to be a danger to the public.)
Hookers on Davie Street is the kind of bold film making that not only impresses but informs the viewer. In this case, it humanizes a sub-culture of people and makes their plight a sympathetic one.
The DVD transfer is grainy but, given the technology of the era when the movie was shot, the original master probably was as well. There are no extras.
As Cinema Retro gets inundated with DVDs to review during the course of any given year, it's virtually impossible to keep up with all of them in a timely manner. Here are some notable titles you should be aware of:
Cabaret Blu-ray (Warner Home Video): Warner Home Video has inherited the rights to Bob Fosse's classic 1972 film adaptation of the stage production that, in turn, was based on Christopher Isherwood's Berlin Stories. The Blu-ray comes packaged in one of those irresistible hardback book formats that is loaded with wonderful photos from the movie. The movie itself holds up superbly even after 40 years. The decline of Germany's Weimar Republic amidst the rise of National Socialism in the 1930s is seen through the eyes of nightclub singer Sally Bowles (Liza Minnelli) and her constant companions (Michael York, Helmut Griem) . Fosse's decision to emphasize the sleaze elements of the Berlin of this era helped to elevate this to the status of one of the most intelligent musicals ever put on film- and Joel Grey's eerie Emcee serves as a thinly-veiled metaphor for for the moral destruction of a great nation. The set is packed with extras including recent and previously-released interviews with cast and crew members, a new documentary about the making of the film, an audio commentary track by author Stephen Tropiano, who wrote a book about the making of Cabaret and an original trailer. This title should be deemed as essential for any classic movie library.
I'M DICKENS, HE'S FENSTER COLLECTOR'S EDITION (Lightyear Video/TV Time Machine): This 1962 sitcom lasted but one season but remains one of the more intriguing programs of its era. The show had the misfortune of being up against the popular Mitch Miller program and Route 66. Ratings suffered initially and ABC decided to cancel the series. However, ratings began to climb as positive word of mouth and good reviews began to spread. Ironically, the series began to gain more viewers than its competition but by then the leading actors had moved on to other projects. The show languished in Bootleg Heaven with no official DVD release until this 16 episode set was unveiled last year by TV Time Machiine and Lightyear Video. It features half of the show's episodes, 16 in all, each beautifully remastered. The series presents John Astin and Marty Ingalls as best friends who are also business partners who own their own handyman service. Although many people call the show a lost classic, I find only moderately amusing. In fact, the show's demise resulted in John Astin going on to star in a true TV classic, The Addams Family and left its creator, Leonard Stern, free to work with Mel Brooks in developing Get Smart! Nevertheless, the show is a pleasurable experience on all levels with the two leads demonstrating the deft comedic timing that would lead them to greater stardom in the years to come. What is outstanding is the love and care that has been put into this set. They include audio commentaries by Astin and Ingles along with guest stars Yvonne Craig, Lee Meriwether, Dave Ketchum, Chris Korman (son of Harvey Korman) and Leonard Stern, who passed away shortly thereafter. There are also any number of featurettes about the series and a wealth of vintage network TV ads. In all, a truly superb presentation of a show that few people are even aware of. The video company is said to be hoping to raise enough funding to release the second half of the show's only season.
The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner (Warner Archive): Director Tony Richardson's acclaimed 1962 film is the epitome of the British "kitchen sink drama", a genre that revolutionized film making in that country and reflected the concerns of the economically disenfranchised. Britain may have been on the winning side in WWII, but the financial repercussions of the conflict lingered for decades, resulting in a stagnant, class-driven society in which those on the bottom rungs found it very difficult to climb out of their impoverished situations. Consequently a generation of troubled youths emerged. Richardson's film poignantly shows the consequences of having young people come of age in a society that offers them little hope for advancement. Inevitably, many will take the wrong turn in life. The story follows a young man, Colin Smith (Tom Courtenay in a remarkable, star-making performance) as he is sent to a borstal, which is a juvenile corrections facility. Here, he finally finds something of value to center his attention on: his skills as a long distance runner. The facility's warden (Michael Redgrave) nurtures the young man until it becomes apparent that he is using him for his own personal aggrandizement. This leads to a suspense-laden, shocking conclusion centered around an all-important long distance race. Richardson's direction is flawless and the black and white cinematography only adds to the appropriately sullen look of the film. Superb supporting performances by all. (James Bond fans should keep an eye out for future 007 villain Joe Robinson as a track coach). This film is a true classic of British cinema.
Mel Brooks: Make a Noise (Shout! Factory): This is the complete American Masters PBS broadcast of a documentary that chronicles the remarkable life and career of Mel Brooks. As Brooks is very much alive and well, he is able to relate the highs and lows of his life as only he can relate them in his inimitable style. The 2013 shows finds Brooks reminiscing about working for Sid Caesar on Your Show of Shows, where Brooks was considered to be too manic even by the likes of Caesar. He also relates funny anecdotes about his childhood and WWII experiences. Most of these stories have been told by Brooks for decades but his sheer exuberance and energy are infectious. The documentary by Robert Trachtenberg includes testimonials from such key comedic figures as Rob Reiner, Joan Rivers, Tracey Ullmann and Brooks' long-time collaborator Carl Reiner. The DVD also contains a number of out-takes from the PBS special. Well worth a viewing if you have any love for classic comedy.
The Blue Hour/ One Naked Night/ Three in a Towel Triple Feature (Vinegar Syndrome): This is a triple feature of obscure retro erotica films. The main feature, The Blue Hour, is not really a sexploitation film in the traditional sense as it is far too pretentious in its attempt to emulate art house movie fare. The 1971 production begins with opening credits that take so long to unspool they almost need an intermission. It's a sign of how boring even a film that features an abundance of nudity can be. The story centers on a young Greek woman who is now living in America and married to a successful therapist/businessman. However, she is haunted by images of sexual atrocities that she has endured at various stages of her life including a confusing scenario in which she may have murdered a young Greek priest with whom she was romantically involved. The film boasts some exotic photography but it lumbers along to a completely abrupt and unsatisfying conclusion. The acting ranges from passable to atrocious. Far more interesting is One Naked Night, a 1965 B&W "quickie" that chronicles the exploits of another troubled young woman who moves from a small town to New York City. She ends up rooming with some party girls and is corrupted along the way leading to a conclusion that is rather shocking. The film is a virtual female version of Midnight Cowboy with mean ol' Manhattan proving to be a devil's playground of corruption for innocent young newcomers. The real appeal of the film is not the occasional flashes of nudity but the fact that it presents tantalizing glimpses of the Big Apple during the mid 1960s including Times Square, the infamous Playland arcade, the Latin Quarter and other hot spots of the era. There is also a quaint feel to even the sex sequences including a tender seduction of our heroine by a lesbian roommate, chain smoking swingers, stag movies shown on 16mm and guys who get dressed up in jackets and ties to attend orgies. The cast of unknowns tries hard but you are aware they are strictly amateur. Nevertheless, this is an entertaining look back at a bygone era when films such as this were deemed shocking. The final entry in the triple feature is titled Three in a Towel. Shot in 1969, it's basically a glorified home movie shot in color in various sections of San Francisco. The movie focuses on a young man's erotic dreams of being a sensual version of Walter Mitty and bedding many nubile young women. The film was obviously shot as a silent feature with narration and sound effects added later. It's a crude production played strictly for laughs and the sex is relegated to an abundance of female nude shots but the action never gets beyond soft core. A "highlight" of the film is a scene in which three hippie chicks eat a banana in a suggestive manner while groping each other. Bizarrely, the narrator uses Shakespearean quotes throughout....At least the filmmakers didn't take it all very seriously. The opening titles read a "A Miracle Production-- If It Turns Out to be a Good Movie, It's a Miracle!". The only other credit is "Produced by The Saint" but it seems pretty obvious we're not talking about Roger Moore here. The film is an utter waste of time aside from some interesting visuals of San Francisco in the late 1960s and ends up being about as erotic as a wet noodle. The transfers vary in quality based on the crude source materials but The Blue Hour has undergone a restoration process. In all, an interesting package of largely forgotten films that would otherwise have been lost to time. Their entertainment value is debatable but from a sociological standpoint, they may bring back some interesting memories if you lived through this era. There are no extras other than a trailer for Three in a Towel that promises a lot more sex than it actually delivers.
Nichols: The Complete Series (Warner Archives): The Warner Archives has released all 24 episodes of the little-seen TV series Nichols that starred James Garner. The show aired in 1971-72 but, despite Garner's star power, it was canceled after one season. Garner was just one of the Hollywood superstars who, by the 1970s, felt they should move to television. This was in direct contrast to the prevailing wisdom of the early days of TV in which it was regarded as a second rate medium for name actors to appear in. Among the other shows that failed in the 1970s were ones top-lined by the likes of Henry Fonda and James Stewart. Nichols presents Garner in his most popular on-screen alter-ego: a likable, laid-back anti-hero. Set in 1914, the pilot episode finds him as a career soldier in the U.S. cavalry who resigns due to his increasingly pacifist nature (an obvious nod to the anti-Vietnam War movement that was raging at the time). Nichols makes his way back to the small home town that bears his family name expecting to live a life of leisure. Instead, he finds his parents are dead and his estate has been swindled away by con men. The town has degenerated into a raucous place where a small group of corrupt citizens call the shot. Nichols is reluctantly enlisted to be the new sheriff and, a la Andy Griffith's Sheriff Taylor, he refuses to wear a gun and uses his wits to thwart his adversaries. The show boasts fine production values and some impressive cast members and guest stars (Margot Kidder is the love interest, playing a local saloon owner.) As with any TV series, the episodes vary in terms of quality, but watching Garner at this point in his career is certainly an entertaining way to pass some hours. Although audiences didn't warm to this show, they certainly didn't lose their affection for Garner, who went on to star in the smash hit series The Rockford Files a few years later. (That show's co-star, Stuart Margolin, also appears in Nichols.)
Wanted: Dead or Alive: The Complete Series (Mill Creek): The Mill Creek video company has repackaged and re-released Wanted: Dead or Alive: The Complete Series. The show made a star of young Steve McQueen, who played a bounty hunter in the old West. The series premiered in 1958 and ran for 94 30 minute episodes, all of which are presented in this collector's edition on multiple DVDs. McQueen shows the charisma and self-assured manner that would help elevate him to big screen superstardom a few years later. The show was also a training ground for upcoming directors, writers and other actors including Lee Van Cleef, Michael Landon, Warren Oates, James Coburn and DeForest Kelly. The writing and acting hold up extremely well, a reflection of an era when intelligent Westerns ruled the roost in terms of TV ratings. The boxed set also includes 4 colorized bonus episodes (which look surprisingly good), a photo gallery, some featurettes about various aspects of the show including McQueen's famed sawed-off shotgun that he carried in a holster and a digital reproduction of a comic book based on the show. There is also the complete public domain feature film The Great St. Louis Bank Robbery starring McQueen. In all, an outstanding value.
"CRAB MONSTERS, TEENAGE CAVEMEN, AND CANDY STRIPE NURSES: ROGER CORMAN, KING OF THE 'B' MOVIE" BY CHRIS NASHAWATAY; FOREWORD BY JOHN LANDIS
Review by Lee Pfeiffer
You can fill an ocean liner with all the tribute books that have been written about "B" movie mogul Roger Corman. The most elaborate so far is this superb coffee table volume by Chris Nashawatay, a long-time film critic for Entertainment Weekly. The book presents a plethora of outstanding movie posters, lobby cards and behind the scenes stills, some of which are from Corman's personal archives. They are all wonderfully presented, as this book is particularly well-designed to capitalize on the nature of the films it celebrates. So many big stars and directors had their initial success with Corman productions. In these pages you can relish Jack Nicholson as Cry Baby Killer, Ron Howard starring in (and directing for the first time) Eat My Dust, and Robert Vaughn as the Teenage Caveman. Best of all is the excellent, in-depth coverage and graphics of Corman's greatest successes: the string of Edgar Allan Poe film adaptations he collaborated on with Vincent Price. (This past Halloween, I watched several of them in succession on TCM and I am amazed at how well they hold up, despite low production values.). There biker films, sexploitation pics and low-brow comedies, all given the Corman touch of being slick and well-produced. Corman has lived to see his reputation placed on an exalted level (he received an honorary Oscar, something that would have seemed inconceivable back in the 1960s). The book has significant contributions from such esteemed figures as Peter Bogdanovich, James Cameron, Bruce Dern, Francis Ford Coppola, Robert De Niro, Martin Scorsese, Jack Nicholson and William Shatner- not to mention a heartfelt introduction by John Landis, who also credits Corman for distributing the works of Fellini, Bergmann and Kurosawa in the USA. In all, this book is an ambitious and highly entertaining work that retro movie lovers will find irresistible.
When I came of age in the eighties and nineties, cinema
art houses were filled with American independent films, most of them gems. It
seemed that then movie lovers could see nearly every film released. In the
years since the number of independent films have grown exponentially, and I
often worry that I’m bypassing, or even worse completely ignorant, of some
worthwhile films that get lost in cinematic obscurity.
The
Exhibitionists (2012), the second feature from director Michael
Melamedoff is such a film, a compelling chamber piece about seven characters
revealing their true desires over the course of two nights. At the heart of the
film is fragile Regina (Pepper Binkley), who we meet nervously awaiting the
arrival of her husband Walter (Richard Short), an agent provocateur filmmaker
just returned from a cross-country film shoot. In tow he brings fellow
crewmember Gordo (Daniel London), whose dutiful wife Gretchen (Lauren Hodges)
has been keeping a tight watch on Regina, and Lynn (Ella Rae Peck) their lovely
and vivacious intern who has been earning extra credit with George off the
clock. Tensions between the five occupants at Walter and Regina’s apartment are
already strained when the arrival of Regina’s brother George (Mike Doyle), on
leave from a seminary, and musical diva Blithe Stargazer (Laverne Cox) set a series
of betrayals and revelations in motion.
First conceived as a stage play, screenwriter Michael
Edison Hayden has adapted his own work into a film that bears a strong
resemblance to higher profile plays-turned-films closer (2004) and carnage
(2011). All three examine the private truths behind seemingly healthy
relationships through expertly written characters. The Exhibtionists never quite reaches the probing dexterity of the
other two pieces, but what it lacks in sophistication it makes up for with a
titillating and refreshingly ambiguous sexuality. Both Hayden and Melamedoff are
aided by a group of skilled and attractive actors. Viewers expect a few thin
performances in micro-budgeted films, but this cast is uniformly committed and
capable. Particular standouts are Ella Rae Peck of NBC’s deception, whose
natural beauty and delivery make an instant impression and Laverne Cox
(Netflix’s orange is the new black), a force of indeterminate sex whose palpable magnetism affects everyone else in
the film. Their two scenes together sizzle and mark a tipping point in the
film.
Shot in just over ten days, Melamedoff deftly places
the viewer in the middle of the action often utilizing reverse shots to canvas
multiple characters’ perspectives. It’s
a shame he didn’t have more funds to work with because although the film has
definite style, it also cannot hide it minimal budget. The score by Teddy Blanks,
who also created the opening sequence, is unapologetically electronic and
retro. It’s a little too similar to music heard in soft core cable offerings,
but manages to establish and sustain a sense of unease throughout the film.
Perhaps it is the association with the music cues, but The exhibitionists ultimately fails to fully deliver on its title
and promise of sexual provocation. I thought I might be watching a modern take
on the sexploitation films of the sixties and seventies such as Score (1973) by Radley Metzger, but this
film never evolves into erotica. Despite that The Exhibitionists is an intriguing work and engages the viewer
from the first shot to the last.
The Exhibitionists was unfortunately
relegated to a few festival appearances in lieu of a theatrical run. Now it’s
available on VOD and DVD, presented along with a few extras. Best amongst the
special features is Michael Melamedoff’s very informative commentary which
illustrates how purposefully he went about constructing the film. Also included
are some behind the scenes stills, Walter’s edited pitch for Blithe that
features some hardcore footage and a festival interview with director
Melamedoff and actor Richard Short, all short but nifty. Viewers can also
download the score if they want to stage their own party at home. Hopefully with this release The Exhibitionists will finally find the
audience it deserves.
Major
celebration of The Poseidon Adventure's 40th anniversary with
articles by David Savage, Tom Lisanti, James Radford and Chris Poggiali.
Includes many rare photos, international movie posters and interviews with
Carol Lynley and Mort Kunstler, the legendary artist who created the movie
poster. Kunstler also provides his original sketches for the ad campaign,
reproduced in this issue for the first time.
40th anniversary
tribute to Deliverance. John Exshaw visits director John Boorman
at his home in Ireland for exclusive interview about working with author
James Dickey on the landmark film.
Gary Giblin
takes an in-depth look at another classic film celebrating its 40th
anniversary: Alfred Hitchcock's Frenzy, complete with rare
stills from sequences that the Master cut from the final version of the
movie.
Matthew R.
Bradley looks at one of the screen's legendary baddies, James Bond
nemesis Blofeld in both literature and cinema. The title of the
article: The Importance of Being Ernst.
Remembering Ernest
Borgnine: a tribute to the legendary Oscar winner.
Raymond Benson's
ten best films of 1983.
Lee Pfeiffer
pays tongue-in-cheek tribute to the 1976 B movie cult
"classic" Grizzly starring Christopher George, Richard
Jaeckel and Andrew Prine.
Gareth Owen
revisits the early days of director Michael Winner's career at
Pinewood Studios.
Mark Mawston's
new column Desert Island Flicks covers underrated gems like John
Frankenheimer's Seconds, Frank Perry's The Swimmer and
Don Siegel's Coogan's Bluff.
Adrian Smith
titillates readers with part two of his extensive look at the history of
British sexploitation films in More Sex, Please. We're British.
Dean Brierly's
Crime Wave International covers British classic crime movies of the 60s
and 70s including Get Carter, Payroll, The Long Good Friday, Robbery,
Villain and Sitting Target.
Plus the usual reviews of the latest film books, DVDs and soundtracks. Limited supply. Price: $30 (includes postage worldwide).
It was a long road for John Steinbeck's 1947 bestseller The Wayward Bus to make it on to the silver screen. The steamy novel about sexually frustrated people who find themselves on an arduous bus ride over dangerous terrain was considered too steamy to adapt to film. At various stages George Stevens and Howard Hawks were involved in film adaptations that never saw fruition. By the time censorship had been relaxed, it was the late 1950s and Fox finally decided to push the envelope by financing the film at the urging of Darryl F. Zanuck, now an independent producer. What emerged was a pale shadow of once-prestigious product. Gone were Stevens, Hawks and Marlon Brando, who was once attached to the film. Instead, an unknown director, Victor Vicas, convinced Zanuck and Fox to allow him to helm the movie. The cast is still impressive, with two of the screen's emerging sex sirens- Joan Collins and Jayne Mansfield- seen in anything but exploitation roles. The story resembles a modern version of John Ford's Stagecoach, with an eclectic group of strangers tossed together on ramshackle bus owned and driven by Johnny Chicoy (Rick Jason), an Irish-Mexican who runs a small rest stop cafe with his pouting wife Alice (Collins). Johnny opts to attempt a dangerous drive over mountain terrain despite horrendous weather conditions, as some of his passengers have urgent business at the final destination. The marriage between Johnny and Alice is a contentious one, alternating between passion and turmoil. Alice is non-too happy to discover that one of Johnny's passengers is Camille Oakes (Mansfield), a busty single blonde who, it is revealed later, makes her living as a stripper and nude model. Also on the small bus: Ernest Horton (Dan Daily), a perpetually cheery salesman of cheap novelty items who immediately is smitten by Camille, though he doesn't suspect her real profession. Then there is Mildred Pritchard (Dolores Michaels), a sexually assertive young woman who is accompanied by her ultra conservative parents, both of whom want to ensure she doesn't have any dalliances along the way. Norma (Betty Lou Keim) is a star struck teenager determined to make her way to Hollywood to become an actress and "Pimples" (Dee Pollack) is a young boy trying to woo her. Then there is Van Brunt (Will Wright), a cantankerous elderly man hell bent on getting to the final destination for reasons unknown.
The journey is filled with sexual tensions throughout and the passengers and Johnny have to navigate around landslides, collapsing bridges and raging rivers. The Stagecoach connection becomes pretentiously obvious in the relationship between Camille and her naive would-be lover Ernest which greatly resembles the relationship between John Wayne's Ringo Kid and Claire Trevor's prostitute Dallas in the Western classic. Circumstances find Johnny and Mildred conveniently alone in a barn where they give in to passion- only to find a suspicious Alice now waiting for them back at the bus, having been dropped there by a helicopter used for rescue missions. Director Vicas and some of the cast members were out of their depth with heavy material that might have played much better in more experienced hands. Jason looks uncomfortable carrying the burden of leading man and Vicas's direction is competent, but relatively uninspired. The film is never boring, however, and does boast impressive performances by Collins and Mansfield (whose career would sadly be largely relegated to B sexploitation films.) The pat happy endings for the individual characters seem contrived and unconvincing but this flawed film should be regarded as a noble effort to bring a sexually driven adult storyline to the screen in an era when it was quite a challenge to do so.
Twilight Time has issued The Wayward Bus as a limited edition (3,000) units Blu-ray that boasts a terrific transfer, isolated track for Leigh Harline's impressive score and an audio commentary track with film historians Alain Silver and James Ursini. As usual, there is a most welcome illustrated booklet with incisive liner notes by Julie Kirgo. An original trailer is also included. The packaging features a photo of Joan Collins that strangely looks like an image from a silent film.
The red carpet label
Criterion Collection has continued its mining of classic foreign language films
by releasing for the first time in the U.S. two pictures that first brought
famed Swedish director Ingmar Bergman some attention.Summer
Interlude (1951) and Summer with
Monika (1953) are both fairly commercial love stories but with a slightly
dark flair which only Bergman can produce.Both films are highly erotic (especially Monika) for the time, and these titles contributed to the notion in
America that Sweden made sexy movies.
In fact, Summer with Monika was first released in the U.S. as a
sexploitation film in 1956 by the self-proclaimed “world’s greatest showman,â€
Kroger Babb, an exhibitor/producer who specialized in low budget sleaze thinly
disguised as “educational material for adults.†Babb re-cut Summer with Monika, added
a dubbed English language soundtrack that had little to do with Bergman’s
original, laid on a jazzy, sultry Les Baxter musical score, and released the
film as Monika: The Story of a Bad Girl. Because the picture contained brief nudity,
it was marketed solely for titillation purposes. (Woody Allen once remarked that the only
reason he and his friends went to see it was because they’d heard there was a
“naked woman†in it.)
The character of Monika, in
Bergman’s version, is not necessarily a “bad girl,†she’s just from a poor
working class family and does what she can to have fun and bring excitement
into her life. She embarks on a
summer-long sexual affair with the rather young and innocent Harry and ends up
getting pregnant. Poor Harry does the
right thing and marries her; but wild Monika will have none of the domestic
life. She soon leaves her husband holding
the infant. A cautionary tale? Perhaps.
Summer Interlude may not be as dour, but it still ends with characters questioning the
meaning of life and death, and speculating how love fits into the
equation. Marie (played by the gorgeous Maj-Britt Nilsson, who has the
best legs of any Bergman actress) is a successful ballet dancer who, when she
was a teenager, had a summer fling with Henrik (Berman stalwart Birger
Malmsten) that was idyllic. Unfortunately,
the fellow dies in a freak accident, leaving Marie disillusioned and bitter,
even as she becomes famous.
Despite the heavy-sounding
storylines, these are two of Bergman’s most accessible and enjoyable
films. Bergman often touched on the subject
of young love in these early pictures, and he nailed the nervousness,
exhilaration, and angst that accompany what we have all experienced. The photography by Gunnar Fischer is
outstanding, especially with the new digital restorations on both disks.
Summer Interlude disappointingly has no extras. Summer with Monika, however, sports a
treasure trove, including a revealing new interview with legendary Bergman
actress Harriet Andersson—it’s hard to believe she was once the scandalous
nymphet of the film. Images from the Playground is a
collection of home movies Bergman shot while on the sets of these and other
films, including archival interviews with Andersson and Bibi Andersson. Especially interesting is the short on the
distribution of Monika: The Story of a
Bad Girl in the USA, with a profile of Kroger Babb. If only Criterion had obtained the rights and
a print of that sexploitation version of Monika
and included it—that would have
been a gem. Both disks come with thick
booklets containing essays and photographs.
If you’re a Bergman fan—and a
Criterion fan—these lost jewels are highly recommended.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER "SUMMER WITH MONIKA" ON BLU-RAY DISCOUNTED FROM AMAZON
CLICK HERE TO ORDER "SUMMER INTERLUDE" ON BLU-RAY DISCOUNTED FROM AMAZON
Click here to access a great site dedicated to celebrating those great old paperback covers of the 1960s. The subject matters are all over the map but there is extensive coverage of the kinds of sexploitation paperbacks boys of that era used to read under blankets with flashlights. It's amazing how many great artists came to prominence painting these great covers for trashy novels: Robert McGinnis and Frank Frazetta among them. Most amusing is the overly-erotic way in which sex was presented. If you were from another planet and the only knowledge you had of women was from these books, you would think every female on the planet was a sex-starved, 48DD lesbian dominatrix!
Man Bait is an engrossing, low-budget British film noir that represents an early Hammer Films production in the years before the studio turned to producing their legendary line of horror movies. Several soon-to-be-big Hammer icons worked on the production: it was directed by Terence Fisher, Michael Carreras was the casting director and Jimmy Sangster was assistant director. The claustrophobic drama takes place mostly inside offices and homes with only a few sequences shot outdoors. Perhaps because the producers thought the movie needed some Hollywood gloss, the leading roles went to George Brent and Marguerite Chapman, though both Yanks are overshadowed by a far more intriguing cast of British thespians. Brent plays John Harman, the prim and proper manager of an upscale London antiquarian book shop. He's happily married to an invalid wife with whom he is anxiously looking forward to traveling with on an exotic cruise. His staid, predictable existence is about to be shaken to its foundations by in an unlikely way. Harman employs a number of people at the book shop, including Ruby Bruce (Diana Dors), a somewhat wayward but vivacious teenage girl. When she falls under the influence of a local cad and thief, Jeffrey Hart (Peter Reynolds), she attempts to seduce Harman as part of a scheme orchestrated by her new lover. The awkward attempt never gets beyond a rather chaste kiss, but Harman soon learns that it has opened the door to a blackmail plot that will have dire and unpredictable consequences, including the unintended deaths of two people. Soon, Harman finds himself under police investigation as a suspected murderer.
The film was deceivingly marketed in the United States as Diana Dors' first movie, when, in fact, she had been making films for years. The ad campaign also played up the word "Stacked!" next to a photo of Dors clad in a bikini top. Sadly, the famous femme fatale of British cinema is dressed rather demurely throughout the film, save for a slightly sexy off-the-shoulder number she uses in the seduction sequence. However, the attempt to market this film as a cheap sexploitation movie undermines its merits. It's a thoroughly engrossing story, well-directed and smartly paced throughout its 78 minute running time. Dors would go on to be known as a British Jayne Mansfield, rarely getting a role that stretched any dramatic talents she may have had. (She died in 1984 at age 52). Yet, her performance in Man Bait is impressive and indicated there was real talent that could have been exploited, had producers ever looked above her bust line. The primary weakness is the presence of George Brent in the lead. He's stiff and boring and his performance is at odds with the far more natural acting styles of the excellent supporting cast (Peter Reynolds is exceptionally good as Dors' manipulative older lover).
VCI has released the film as a burn-to-order DVD with a first-rate transfer that accentuates the atmospheric camerawork of Walter Harvey.
In the aftermath of Mondo Cane's release in the early 1960s, every exploitation filmmaker seemed eager to jump on the bandwagon and produce "documentaries" that ostensibly were made to educate audiences about shocking and weird people and practices throughout the world. Even in the 1970s, Australia was considered an exotic locale to most of the world's population. Because of its inaccessibility, travel to Oz in those days was relegated to seemingly only the most financially secure lucky souls. Thus, life in Australia seemed to be a good bet for any number of exploitation films that gave a double meaning to the term "Down Under". One of the more prominent opportunists to capitalize on this craze for the short-lived "Ozploitation" films was producer/director John D. Lamond, who churned out a number of soft-core porn films during the '70s and '80s. Among the more notable achievements was Australia After Dark, filmed on location throughout Oz in 1975. The film apparently caused a minor sensation in its initial release and was heavily edited in some countries, including England. The InterVision DVD label, in conjunction with CAV Distributing Corporation, has just found an uncut print "recently discovered in the cellar of the Lower Wonga Drive-in" according to the press release. That's appropriate because the drive-in's name alone sounds like an erogenous zone. In any event, the film's release is a welcome event as it brings us back to a time when international cinema was still pushing the boundaries on censorship.
There's nothing shocking by today's standards in Australia After Dark, though Lamond didn't punt when it came to showing extensive views of full female and male nudity. Although the movie's key premise is sexploitation, most of the more interesting segments pertain to more mainstream topics. There is a visit to the world's longest bar as well as brief but fascinating looks at ancient cave wall paintings. There's also a brief segment about a 19th century serial killer of women who nevertheless received hundreds of "fan letters" from women admirers. Lamond shoots and edits in a haphazard, anything-goes style. Thus, one minute you're paying a visit to an S&M club and the next you're viewing a beautiful young naturist swimming nude in the Great Barrier Reef. There is a pointless but extended visit with a performance artist named Count Copernicus, who - based on his billing in the film- must have been somewhat of a sensation at the time. Copernicus dresses in drag even while he gets it on with comely young women. He also cloaks his "schtick" with pretentious political protests, making him the kind of character generally spoofed in Woody Allen movies. In another segment, we view a body painting studio where uptight businessmen spend their lunch hours renting live nude models whose bodies they adorn with "art". In the most compelling sequence, we're brought inside a modern witches coven where practitioners initiate a new female member by having her ravaged by some bloke dressed as a witch doctor (Imagine the voodoo sequences from Live and Let Die if they had been rated X.) Intermingled with all this are shots of sexily-clad young women who were filmed surreptitiously for inclusion in the movie. The girl-on-the-street footage reminds us why my friend, British fashion consultant Colin Woodhead, has referred to the '70s "the decade that fashion forgot" - but it also reminds us that the era did present us with the regrettably short-lived hot pants craze. Other segments jump from alleged UFO landing sites to a visit to a shop where the owner gained fame by custom-fitting bikinis to female customers who willingly doffed their clothes to get his professional opinion.
The DVD includes a director's commentary with John Lamond and Mark Hartley, director of Not Quite Hollywood, a documentary about Ozploitation films. Their conversation is highly enjoyable due to the lack of pretentiousness. Lamond makes no bones about his desire to make a cheap, trashy movie designed for quick playoff in Aussie drive-ins. However, he did have a loftier goal in mind. Tired of having Australians live in the shadows of the Americans and British, he wanted to do his part to show that there were plenty of local people who were equally eccentric to those seen in overseas films. The fact that by doing so, he helped reinvigorate the entire Australian film industry, pleases him to this day. He also discusses certain scenes he had to cut including footage of Trans Australian Airlines (TAA). The company agreed to fly him for free around Australia in return for promotion in the film. However, when airline executives saw the finished movie they were horrified and forced Lamond to cut all footage of TAA from the film. (Now that the airline is defunct, Lamond has restored the footage for this DVD release.) Lamond also admits staging certain sequences, though he says the participants were only recreating their normal activities. Both Lamond and Hartley come across as the kind of unpretentious guys you'd like to sit around and enjoy a cold one with and their conversation on the commentary track eclipses the merits of the film itself. At one point, Lamond stops in his tracks to comment on some nubile naked young woman by saying, "Look at that! That's all woman!" (This also has to be the only audio commentary track in memory in which both participants discuss in detail the changing viewpoints of female sexuality by making observations about the abundance of pubic and armpit hair on the female participants.) The DVD sleeve also promises a trailer gallery of Lamond's other films, but for the life of me I couldn't find it on the actual DVD.
The print of the film is only adequate and appears to have been shot through some sort of glass filter that leaves some consistent blemishes throughout. Nevertheless, it's a very enjoyable guilty pleasure and one can't fault InterVision for the film quality. After all, would you have spent time tracking this down in the cellar of the Lower Wonga Drive-In?
Australia After Dark is tacky, sleazy, and politically incorrect. I loved every minute of it.
Charles Napier, the talented character actor who appeared in such diverse films as The Blues Brothers, the Austin Powers series, the films of sexploitation king Russ Meyer and Philadelphia, has passed away at age 75. For more click here
Sonny Rollins' classic score for Alfie is among the gems played on the El Diabolik podcast site.
We were just made aware of El Diabolik's World of Psychotronic Soundtracks. We'll let Duncan, who runs the podcast site, describe what they do:
"We play soundtracks from all over the world, mainly from the 60's through to the 80's. Horror, Italian crime, British Cult, French Crime, Blaxploitation, Beat, Giallo, Bollywood, Sexploitation, Fung Fu, and just plain classic soundtracks. The latest show is a German special. We're far from professionals, we do this for fun and hope others enjoy the music with us. I try and play nearly all the music from the original vinyl pressings where possible." Click here to visit site.
Odeon
Entertainment are continuing their quest to bring a mixture of sought after and
totally obscure titles to DVD with generous extras here in the UK.
Goodbye Gemini (1970) stars
Martin Potter and Judy Geeson as twins in a complicated and suspiciously
incestuous relationship. They are 20 years old but they roam and play in their
large Chelsea townhouse like children, and what begins as childish pranks
escalate into something seriously disturbed. At that time Potter was fresh from
his success in Fellini’s Satyricon (1969)
whilst Geeson had made a big impression as a promiscuous schoolgirl in To Sir With Love (1967), and in Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush (1968),
espousing free love whilst skinny-dipping in a lake. Goodbye Gemini was directed by Alan Gibson shortly before he made
two Dracula films for Hammer. With his name attached, along with a supporting
cast including former Frankenstein’s monster Freddie Jones one might expect the
film to be a horror, but it’s not as easy to pigeonhole as that. The film could
more accurately be described as a psychological thriller, set in the tail-end
of the 1960s where post-Altamont and Charles Manson, the hippy dream has well
and truly gone sour. It’s a fascinating and terrifying film that crosses sexual
boundaries and pushes relationships over the edge. When we spoke to Martin
Potter he remembered the film well: “As an actor I was trained to tell truth. In
Goodbye Gemini there was this awful
scene where I was about to gas myself, having done something truly awful. There
was Hammer horror, where as an audience you didn’t expect Christopher Lee or
anyone else to explain what they were doing. It was just a genre of film. But I
do recall with Goodbye Gemini trying,
probably incredibly naively, to explain what this person was doing. I took it
all terribly seriously. I was trying to make it real for me. Whereas the
director was doing the film to pay off his mortgage!â€
Goodbye Gemini is
based on the 1964 novel Ask Agamemnon and features a great period soundtrack by
first time composer Christopher Gunning, who would go on to score dozens of TV
series and films, including the recent Oscar-winning La Vie En Rose (2007). There would appear to be very little
commercial appeal in this story of a brother and sister who love and kill
together, but thankfully this was a time of risk-taking and experimentation in
the British industry. They were even able to bring Sir Michael Redgrave on
board in a significant role as a politician who spends his evenings attending
the wrong kind of parties.
The cover art for the Blu-ray release of the 1981 Italian thriller The New York Ripper screams "The most controversial horror film ever made!" Although the hyperbole may be true, I'll confess that I had never even heard of the movie until viewing the screener copy from Blue Underground. Apparently, the film does have a long history of being censored and the original version is still banned in the UK. Research shows there have been numerous international versions of film, many of which have been compromised by edits ranging from minor to the exclusion of entire key sequences. Blue Underground's release is the complete 93 minute version of director Lucio Fulci's vision of the film.As you might imagine, the movie isn't for everyone. A strong stomach and penchant for kinky sex scenes might well be advised.
The film was shot on location in New York City (with interiors shot in Rome) in 1981. The Big Apple was in the midst of its decline during this period and movie makers exploited the public misery to the fullest extent. Big studio releases like Taxi Driver and Death Wish were seen as legitimate social commentaries, while other smaller budget movies just seemed to exploit the explosion in crime. Viewing The New York Ripper today, one has to force oneself to remember those bad old days in Gotham. With the city now having undergone an amazing renaissance that has resulted in the lowest crime statistics on record, it might be difficult for those who did not grow up in or near the city to recall how accurately films reflected this era. Fulci's film centers on a psychopath who menaces New York by murdering numerous women in the most horrendous manners. Bizarrely, he uses the voice of Donald Duck in taunting phone calls to the police. Nominally, the film would seem to be based on a modern version of London's Jack the Ripper, but more likely Fulci was inspired by the Son of Sam murders that gripped the city in the summer of 1977.
Severin Films is noted for releasing deluxe DVD editions of cult European horror and sexploitation films such as the Emmanuelle movies and the recently-reviewed Sinful Dwarf. Thus, when I received a screener from Severin of their newly released French import The Hairdresser's Husband (Le mari de la coiffeuse), my natural inclination was to assume that this, too, had a tinge of the grotesque to it. However, the first clues that this would not be the kind of film generally appreciated by overweight, middle-aged men who live in their mother's basements was the fact that the DVD sleeve boasted a rave from Roger Ebert and the notation that the 1990 film was nominated for 7 Cesar Awards (the French equivilent of the Oscars) - a legacy that somehow escaped The Sinful Dwarf. I watched the film without even reading the synopsis and was quickly hypnotized by this strange, but fascinating love story. There is nary a murder or ill-tempered dwarf in sight, but you are never certain until the last frame what direction the story might move in. The film centers on Antoine (Jean Rochefort), a rather mundane middle-aged man who lives a relatively non-descript life. He reflects back on his childhood and his first love: the local hairdresser who would cut his hair. She was a plump, buxom woman who served as little Antoine's first sexual obsession. He became obsessed with her breasts and would use every available opportunity to get a haircut- much to his mother's bewilderment. It was from these early encounters that Antoine decided he had but one goal in life: to marry a hairdresser. The story shifts to the recent past, as Antoine recalls how he managed to fulfill his dream by marrying a beautiful, much younger woman who ran a hair salon. Â
If you're like the Cinema Retro staffers, one of the glorious by-products of your misspent youth was the time spent in grungy movie theaters watching trashy sexploitation films. If you're pining away for those days of old, where you had to keep one eye on the screen and the other on the trenchcoat draped across the lap of the guy sitting next to you, your ship has finally come in. The people at Retro Seduction Cinema offers such great DVD titles as Sleaze in the 70s and Swinging in the 70s. (We knew there was something more to that decade than bell bottoms and leisure suits!) To visit the site click here
That's Cinema Retro London correspondent Adrian Smith (center) with the crazy lads who comprise The League of Gentlemen.
Ten years ago a
show appeared on British TV that was so strange, so grotesque, so dark, yet so
utterly hilarious that it quickly developed a cult following and a number of
popular catchphrases. It ran to three series and eventually a feature film.
This was the League of Gentlemen, a weird combination of sketch show and sitcom
which clearly took inspiration from old horror movies, detective dramas, sexploitation
comedies, to name but a few. I took the opportunity to pin down the gents in
order to unravel just what their influences were. The conversation immediately
turns to Take an Easy Ride, described
by Mark as almost being a snuff film. This leads to my first question:
Have seventies
snuff films been an influence on you?
M-
Just that one!
Is it available
commercially?
J-
No, its illegal. You risk prosecution! (Although a quick search later uncovers
copies available on Ebay and YouTube)
M-
It purports to be an information film. It’s really a rape exploitation film. It
starts like ‘Charley Says’ then it
just gets ridiculous! It’s horrible.
J-
You realise you are getting old when you talk about these things. I was doing
some work with We Are Klang (UK comedy outfit) and they started talking about ‘Two girls, 1 cup’ and I genuinely hadn’t
heard of it! Imagine that!
Neither have I! A
couple of years ago most of you did a commentary for Blood on Satan’s Claw. How did they know you were fans?
J-
I think we’d mentioned it in one of our commentaries.
R-
We tried to get the claw in a toybox for Daisy Haggard (in their new TV show Psychoville). Her Dad Piers Haggard directed
the film.
M-
Someone sent me a copy of The Frozen Dead.
It only worked once, it was such a bad copy. You know that one with the frozen
Nazis? It virtually doesn’t exist. It was a huge thing. In the horror film
books of the seventies there were these huge colour plates from this film no
one ever saw. It was terrible.
J-
Someone gave me on video a copy of It!,
which was also in those books.
M-
With the golem??
J-
Yes.
That’s just come
out on DVD now with The Shuttered Room.
I don’t know if you’ve seen that, but it’s terrible. It’s got Oliver Reed in
it.
M-
I always think of Beast in the Cellar.
It’s a similar
thing except it’s in an attic.
R-
Dame Aileen Atkins told me she was in an Exorcist
rip-off I said “I Don’t Want to be Born?â€
She said “You’ve seen it’? “ Of course I have!†Joan Collins raped by a dwarf?
Brilliant! She couldn’t believe I’d seen it.
Dame
Aileen Atkins. That’s how she got the part in Cranford.
S-
That’s how she got a Dame-hood.
I love that film,
especially where the baby pushes the nanny into the lake.
M-
It’s a horrible thing, that creature.
R-
You had the devil’s child in Crooked
House (recent portmanteau horror film screened on UK TV over Christmas,
written by and starring Mark Gatiss) didn’t you?
M-
Yes, The Devil’s Hand.
You often included
references in your shows to old films, such as the episode Royston Vasey and the Monster from Hell (a reference to Hammer
horror Frankenstein and the Monster From
Hell). Was it to see if people would notice, or to make each other laugh?
M-
We just needed to think of a title.
S-
Do you remember? We actually watched that Frankenstein film, and from that we
thought we should do something with torches. So we said ‘let’s burn the shop
down’. So that storyline came from the film directly.
M-
It’s a good title though isn’t it?
Oh it’s brilliant. It
shouldn’t work but it does! You’ve also worked with people like Freddie Jones
(in the Christmas Special) who of course once played Frankenstein’s monster.
J-
We remembered him more from Children of
the Stones.
S-
And Elephant Man.
M-
We’ve always had that kind of affinity with those films, and getting to work
with various people over the years is sort of like repaying a debt.
J-
David Warner for example. On the film (The
League of Gentlemen’s Apocalypse), I couldn’t believe every day there was
David Warner from every film I loved growing up.
M-
One of the strange lessons of that is that he has no affinity with fantasy. You
would think that as a viewer he must love those films. But he just did those
films because that’s what people asked him to do. He’s become a complete genre
hero.
There was such a
dearth of filmmaking in the seventies that a lot of actors had to do whatever
they could to get by.
J-
Except the films were better then!
M-
I was talking to someone the other day, who said that one day he’s going to
corner George Baker and talk about a scene in a grim sexploitation film where
he goes through his collection of vibrators. A long way from Wexford! It’s like when you see people
like John Pertwee turning up in Val Guest rude sex comedies.
A-
Like Au Pair Girls.
M-
Yes.
J-
Those semi-porn films always had amazing casts.
Speaking of which I
noticed you’ve got Christopher Biggins in Psychoville?
R-
We do, yes.
One of my favourite
films of his was Eskimo Nell.
S-
I’ve not seen that one.
J-
That’s one of those mucky films.
It’s a classic!
It’s a really clever film. It’s not just about sex, honest! It’s about a guy
trying to make a film, and it ends up being a porn film by mistake.
S-
Sounds good.
A- Christopher
Biggins is in it, he’s brilliant!
M-
Was he cast in Psychoville because of I:Claudius?
J-
Porridge? Or chiefly Watch This Space?
R-
We tried to fill it with references to Watch
This Space!
When is Psychoville
going to be on?
R-
No idea.
S-
We don’t know. It’s still being edited.
You’re pleased with
it?
S-
Yeah!
R-
We’re just coming to the end of editing episode 5 which is looking very good.
Do you think people
will see it as a sequel to The League of Gentlemen?
S-
I think it’s inevitable. We had a marketing meeting today. They wanted to say
‘From the team who brought you The League
of Gentlemen and we said ‘well not quite’.
Half! But aren’t
people always going to put you all together?
S-
We’re very proud of it!
M-
We owe everything to it. It would be churlish not to.
M-
Inevitably people are going to want to have a peg to hang us on.
Presumably you took
you name from the film ‘The League of Gentlemen’?
M-
Yes!
A favourite or just
a good name?
M-
I think I’d seen it quite recently and it was just a good name.
J-
It is a great film. Very seedy.
Can I ask you about
Sherlock? (It has recently been announced that Mark Gatiss is currently working
on a new series of Sherlock Holmes TV dramas for the BBC.)
M-
Yes.
Is this going to be
in competition with Guy Ritchie?
M-
It’s a coincidence. It always happens. There are always three Robin Hood films
coming out at the same time. The character is still here because he’s been the
most filmed character in all of fiction. There’ll be several more by next year!
There’s no fight involved. Unless Harry Hill does it! This Holmes will be in
the style of the 1940s Sherlock films where he fights the Nazis. We’ve tried to
bring Holmes into the present day.
A restored Asian cult classic proves hell hath no fury
like a woman wronged, especially one who wields a scalpel.
By Dean Brierly
“Dedicated to medicine…and the cold-blooded destruction of
men!â€
With a tagline like that, you just know you’re onto a
winner. And Madame O (1967), an outlandish, pungent slice of celluloid
kink, doesn’t disappoint. Ostensibly one of the cheap sex movies that flooded
Japanese cinemas in the 1960s (and which eventually morphed into the notorious
“pink†films in the following decade), Madame O transcends its tawdry
provenance, deftly blending the sexploitation, revenge and noir genres into an
oddly contemplative and affecting study of a woman slowly coming apart at the
mental and emotional seams.
The film’s heroine is a beautiful gynecologist in her
mid-30s with a thriving practice and a tragic past. As a 16-year-old girl,
Saeko suffered a gang rape that left her pregnant, infected with syphilis, and
saddled with guilt courtesy of a father who blamed her for provoking the
assault. It’s enough to turn a girl into a retribution-minded man hater.
“Before I realized it, I had grown into a woman who found pleasure only in
revenge—revenge against men for the brutality they had shown me,†Saeko relates
in voiceover. Her payback consists of picking up lonely men in tawdry bars,
taking them into her bed, and cold-bloodedly infecting them with syphilis (a
swift incision and swipe of bacteria-laden cotton) while they snooze in
post-coital bliss. Poetic justice, through a swab darkly.
Saeko’s single-minded quest is untainted by notions of
remorse or guilt at betraying the Hippocratic Oath. Indeed, inflicting rather
than curing disease provokes an exciting and intoxicating dichotomy in her,
another manifestation of her unbalanced psyche. Saeko also strikes back at men
in more oblique fashion, surreptitiously tying her patients’ fallopian tubes so
their husbands will begin to doubt their potency. Some might call that wrong.
Saeko would just call it mixing business with pleasure.
Unfortunately, not all good things last forever. Saeko’s
unabashed pursuit of vindictiveness and vengeance takes an unforeseen turn when
she carelessly becomes pregnant by one of her victims. In one of the film’s
most disturbing sequences, Saeko straps herself onto the operating table and
self-administers an abortion, only to pass out from the pain. Dr. Watanabe, a
recent addition to Saeko’s clinic, discovers her in this compromising position
the next morning and, much to her relief, promises to keep her secret. She is
further impressed by his selflessness and seeming lack of male predatory
impulses. For the first time in her life, Saeko finds herself falling in love,
to the point where she entrusts the good doctor with all the details of her
sordid past. Watanabe remains supportive even after he witnesses a blackmail
attempt by one of her former victims end in murder. Somewhat improbably, he
promptly marries Saeko, who by this time seems convinced that not all men are
devils. But wedded bliss is soon interrupted by a series of events that cast
her white knight in an entirely darker light. The film shifts into noir
territory at this point, with a succession of crosses and double crosses that
culminate in bleak and nihilistic fashion.
Director Seiichi Fukuda, who made a couple dozen such sex
films (almost all of them sadly lost), conjures highly charged widescreen
compositions to evoke Saeko’s twisted odyssey of sexual revenge. His visual
command is particularly effective during her nocturnal hunting forays. At one
point, Fukuda treats the viewer to a provocative close-up of Saeko’s lips as
she caresses them with lipstick, but the eroticism of the image is belied by
her cynical voiceover: “I’m always exhausted after an operation, but cannot
sleep. My nerves are raw. I’m on edge. I get up and go out into the streets and
hunt for easy pickups. I find them. They’re pathetically easy to lure.â€
Madame O is filled with such frissons, including the
abortion sequence, which throbs with grindhouse intensity; and an eye-popping
scene in which Saeko dispatches of a blackmailer’s corpse while clad only in
polka dot bra and panties. Despite such suggestive visuals, Fukuda for the most
part maintains a detached, non-judgmental tone. At times, the film has an
almost documentary-like quality that is enhanced by its extensive use of
black-and-white cinematography. However, occasional color sequences, seemingly
inserted without narrative justification, keep the viewer off balance and
subtly mirror the characters’ discordant emotional states.
Michiko Sakyo (also known as Michiko Aoyama) brings a
studied calm and indomitable resolve to her characterization of Saeko, while
hinting at the mental cracks in her façade. She also possesses the requisite
physical characteristics of a sex film star, and seems comfortable letting it
all hang out in the numerous but relatively restrained sex scenes that punctuate
the narrative. Akihiko Kaminara is effectively creepy as her enigmatic husband,
his face a mask of repressed greed and lust; while Yuichi Minato excels as the
sleaze ball who meets a grisly fate when he tries to play extortion games with
the deadly doctor. An added bonus is the presence of Roman Porno legend Naomi
Tani as a voluptuous minx whose treacherous impulses fit right into the moral
cesspool of voyeurism, adultery and murder.
Like the rest of Fukuda’s output, this perverse gem might
also have been consigned to the waste bin of history if not for Radley
Metzger’s Audubon Films, which distributed an English-language version of Madame
O in the late 1960s and had the foresight to preserve what is the only
remaining copy in existence. Exploitation connoisseurs can also thank Synapse
Films for bringing the film to DVD in a pristine widescreen transfer that does
full justice to Fukuda’s delirious vision. Madame O is a fitting
testament to this unsung craftsman, one who infused Japanese genre cinema with
a uniquely compelling blend of moral complexity and unbridled eroticism.