Brandeis
University professor of American studies, Thomas Doherty, has published several
books on Hollywood and film history, especially as they pertain to geo-political
topics. For example, his 2018 work on the Hollywood Blacklist (Show Trial:
Hollywood, HUAC, and the Birth of the Blacklist) is an excellent resource
for anyone researching that sordid time in our history.
Now
comes How Film Became History, which examines the birth of what is
called the “archival documentary.” Exactly what is that? The “documentary” as a
film genre existed since the birth of the medium. The very first films by the
Lumiere Brothers and Thomas Edison are indeed documentaries because they were
depictions of real life at the time (trains coming into a station from the
former, or a cock fight from the latter). As cinema entered the 20th Century
and progressed into what we call the “Silent Era,” all kinds of footage was
shot around the world. Kings and queens, presidents, and monarchs were captured
on celluloid in official and unofficial settings. There was footage from the
First World War. The birth of aviation and all those spectacular crashes caught
on film.
By
the 1930s, there was a backlog of nearly four decades of documentary footage of
all kinds. So, when sound came into the process, what does one do with all this
silent documentary footage? You make an anthology of the footage and add
a voice narrator, and voila—the “archival documentary” is the result.
And we are all familiar with them. All those newsreels that became part of the
cinema-going experience in the 30s, 40s, and 50s (they began to die out in the
60s) are archival documentaries. The filmmaker would select and assemble
footage from, say, the Tsar of Russia and his family prior to the Russian
Revolution and present a brand new documentary about the Tsar of Russia, all
narrated by an actor (or academician) with a commanding voice. Today, just
about every collage of a newsworthy event is an archival documentary if it
utilizes already existing film.
Doherty
takes us on a journey through some of the earliest (and rarest) examples of
this unique subgenre that really became probably the main form of documentary
cinema in the century. The First World War, written and directed by
Laurence Stallings, was released in 1934. The author claims this was the first
archival documentary from a major Hollywood studio (Fox). It contains
incredible footage from that conflict, stitched together to form a narrative.
Some of that footage was apparently too gruesome to show originally and was
thus censored by the military, instead painting a rosier picture of the war to
the public. The First World War changed that by including the uncensored
footage. By the way—you can see The First World War only by streaming it
from the Imperial War Museum’s website.
Other
chapters in Doherty’s book discuss Cornelius Vanderbilt Jr.’s Hitler’s Reign
of Terror from 1934, Max Eastman and Herman Axelbank’s Tsar to Lenin from
1937, and more.
Then
there is The March of Time, the ever-popular newsreel series that
cinemagoers enjoyed prior to the feature film. Sponsored by Time, Inc., these
shorts that spanned from 1935 to 1951 were some of the best sources of news
that the average citizen could get. All archival documentaries.
While
Doherty takes an academic approach to the subject matter, anyone interested in
documentary filmmaking, cinema history, and the politics of propaganda should
enjoy How Film Became History.
The U.S. office of Cinema Retro will be closed due to travel commitments between April 29-May 10. Feel free to order as you normally would and orders will ship as soon as we reopen. Although we will be checking E mails, please excuse any delays in responding.
Depending on the regional market – in this case
Charlotte, North Carolina - Paul Harrison’s chiller The House of Seven Corpses would premiere as early as mid-December 1973.
Doubling as co-writer and producer on the pic, Harrison’s directorial work was
mostly consigned to television.The
scenario of Seven Corpses was
co-written by Harrison with Thomas J. Kelly… of whom I can find only one
additional writing credit.For an
obvious low-budget feature, the featured cast is a surprisingly impressive one.The pic’s players includes the familiar faces
of a trio of veteran film and television stars: John Ireland, Faith Domergue
and John Carradine.
The scenario: a film crew chooses the spooky old “Beal
Estate,” a brooding mansion (with adjoining graveyard), to shoot a low-budget
satanic horror film.The film’s star
Gayle Dorian (Faith Domergue) sighs the mansion is “not exactly the Beverly
Hilton is it?” True ‘dat. The gloomy
locale was partly selected due to its real-life ghastly past.Seven members of the Beal family met untimely
and violent ends within the mansion’s walls: an unexplainable fall, a drowning,
a shooting, a hanging, a stabbing and even a bludgeoning by candlestick.The bodies of seven of these unfortunates are
accounted for by their gravestones.But a
mysterious eighth grave remains unmarked… and no one is quite sure why.They’ll find out soon enough.
The film’s production becomes, ahem, troubled when cast
member Anne (Carole Wells) and film tech David (Jerry Strickler) discover the
Beal mansion library holds a stash of books concerning black magic and the
occult.Though Anne wishes otherwise,
David becomes increasingly enchanted – one might say obsessed - by one musty
volume, The Tibetan Book of the Dead.David suggests to director Eric Hartman
(Ireland) that passages from the book should be incorporated into their own film
to provide a measure of authenticity.
Hartman agrees.He
notes while the hoodoo found in the book “maybe garbage” it’s still “better
garbage than what the writer gave us.”This ultimately proves to be a terrible decision – as everyone discovers
when David chooses to read the book’s demonic incantations aloud.If that’s not enough to disturb the grim atmosphere,
there’s also a creepy, aged caretaker (Carradine) lurking about, unsettling
everyone with his doomy warnings.
Hey, this is not the worse set-up for a horror film.Unfortunately, while something is always happening on screen there’s little
in the way of pay-off: a bit of mystery, perhaps, but few atmospheric chills.This theatrical film arrived courtesy of the
Television Corporation of America and… well, it mostly presents as a typical run-of-mill
made-for-television programmer. Director of Photography Don Jones does what he
can.The film looks very “nineteen-seventies”
in its grit and grain. The film’s many interiors tend to be on the dark side…
which is fair, as the house supposedly has no electricity and brightened at
night only by candles.It’s also fair to
say the pic’s graveyard scenes manage to convey a genuine atmospheric eeriness.
The film ultimately falters due to the too-slow burn of
its fuse.One could forgive the long
stretches of sidecar storytelling if the film had ignited spectacularly at its
denouement.But the last reel is only
marginally more chilling than anything offered earlier.It doesn’t help that the characters (well,
let’s call them “victims-in-waiting”) aren’t well developed - or even made likable
– in scripting.As unpleasant director
Hartman, John Ireland comes off as petulant, demanding, impatient and
insulting.He’s particularly hard on the
film’s star Gayle Dorian.Yes, she’s a
bit diva-ish on and off set, sometimes annoying and certainly high-strung.But her rattled emotional state is partly
understandable as she suffers no shortage of verbal abuse by Hartman.Oddly, the script never attempts to completely
explain this pair’s combative yet seemingly co-dependent professional and
personal relationship.
Actress Domergue does her best with the material given, reciting
windy passages of satanic gibberish or tending to her beloved cat, Cleon.Though Domergue appeared in only a handful of
sci-fi films (all released in 1955), a number of them were classics: Cult of the Cobra, This Island Earth, It Came
from Beneath the Sea and The Atomic
Man.For those holding fond memories
of Domergue’s performances in those films, it was certainly nostalgic to see
her terrorized on the big-screen again.Conversely,
one wishes she was threatened in a better vehicle than this.Though Seven
Corpses was not the sort of pic to enjoy studious notices in the press, a
few reviews did trickle in.The Los Angeles Times allowed while Seven Corpses might be a “sour apple,”
actress Domergue “manages to act impressively in the film within the film.”
For better or worse (and, alas, the actor’s late-stage
filmography was often for the worse), I still remain an unabashed fan of John
Carradine.When Seven Corpses went before the cameras in Salt Lake City in September
and October of 1972, the legendary actor was still of the sprite age of
sixty-six.Depending on how you look at
it, Carradine was either fittingly or generously third-billed in this film’s
credits.I would suggest it was the
former, as his role as the creaky and mysterious caretaker Edgar Vincent is
fairly substantive.By the 1980s, too many
of Carradine’s appearances in (mostly) low, low
budget horrors were found in blink-and-you’ll-miss-‘em small roles or cameos.The actor’s presence in Seven Corpses – abetted by his famous low-growl perfect diction and
eye-rolling madness - brings gravitas to an otherwise unremarkable film.
Ported over from the Severin release of 2013, is a
remarkable twenty-eight minute, on-screen interview with Carradine. (This feature
is included only on the Blu-ray disc of Kino Cult’s Seven Corpses 4K/Blu twin as is the film’s scratchy trailer).Film historians with more formidable
pedigrees than myself have noted that one shouldn’t always believe everything
Carradine shares in reminiscence.It’s charged
no matter how lucid his stories and memories may sound, the actor wasn’t above
embellishing otherwise small vignettes into tall tales.At one point in the interview Carradine
mentions having once gone to Vienna to play either Dracula or a similar vampire
alongside German actor Curd Jürgens.This tidbit of info certainly made curious film wonks scramble for
confirmation.To my knowledge, no film
nor stage play of this exists.
In the interview (originally recorded in February 1983),
Carradine is continually pressed to discuss his career in horror films.The classically-trained actor is pretty
dismissive of his work in the genre, offering he made only about “twenty-five”
such films in his career.Well, should one
choose to include among his “horror” filmography overlapping sci-fi and mystery
films, I reckon Carradine made somewhere in the vicinity of double that number
by 1983… with a lot more ghoulish-shlock to come.Though Carradine (b. 1906) shares gracious
memories of working with such greats as Karloff and Lugosi, the actor laments
his horror film appearances as “the least of my work.” He notes his favorite horror film was Paul
Wegener’s silent film classic The Golem
of 1920.
Carradine also unapologetically denigrates the work of the
youthful modern actors with whom he presently intermingles as “not very good.”He namechecks some of the great actors in the
past: Lionel Atwill, Elsa Lanchester, Lionel Barrymore and Tyrone Power etc.: the
sort of actors who learned their craft on the proper professional stage.Carradine’s opinion in this regard is not
surprising. The actor’s long film career ran parallel with and concurrent to
his stage work.Carradine generously allows
his favorite films in which he appeared did not necessarily feature him in leading
roles, but simply as one member of a great ensemble: Victor Fleming’s Captain Courageous (1937), John Ford’s The Grapes of Wrath (1940) and Rouben
Mamoulian’s Blood and Sand (1941).His opined his favorite role was that of Sir
Thomas More in a stage production of playwright Robert Bolt’s A Man for All Seasons. If Carradine overplayed many of his “horror”
film characters with a measure of tongue-in-cheek over-the-top bemusement – as
is often charged - it’s likely that he found the material ridiculous and
beneath his station.
That was
my answer every time I was asked, "When are we going to see your
book?" I had only been in the business 40 years and thought that memoirs
came at the end of a career. I had worked on Star Wars and Bond films, gaining
some fans, and had been a signing guest at film and TV conventions all over the
world. Also, I had been giving talks about my life and stunts for some time,
and occasionally a two-hour 'An Evening with Paul Weston', relating my life as
a fashion model and stuntman. As always, the dreaded question would be asked,
"Have you written your book yet?"
Writing
was a problem for me, growing up in north London during the Second World War,
dodging bombs, and running down to air raid shelters. My education was poor in
a system that didn't seem to care and did nothing to help my dyslexia. So, at
15 years-old I was shoved out into the working world with no certificates of
any kind, not even an 11-plus. Oh, I did have a gold star for boxing, which
helped in my future career — that's the boxing, not the star!
I had to
admit that my life had been somewhat unusual, from my early days in fashion, to
extra work on film, to my 'Claims to Fame' as I call them: dancing with Charlie
Chaplin in The Countess from Hong Kong, singing with the Beatles on Help!,
standing up actress Lauren Bacall, being considered to play James Bond, and not
complaining when the future King of England hit me over the head with a bottle.
About
four years ago my family, friends, and fans finally convinced me I should start
to put something down on paper. I was starting to mature a little and didn't
know when I may shuffle off this mortal —! But where do I start?
I didn't
want it to be a book of my stunts — "There I stood, 60 feet up, on fire
and —" I also didn't want a ghost writer. I wanted it to be a true story
about my life in my words, warts and all.
(Photo courtesy of Paul Weston.)
I feel
privileged to have been stunt double for Superman and James Bond, and to have
worked with some of the most famous directors, actors, and actresses in the
film and TV industry.
It had
been 60 years since I first walked through the gates of Pinewood Studios and
into a life that a scruffy little kid from the war-torn streets of London could
never have conceived. A career that took me from Pinewood to Hollywood, and
into the music world, becoming friends with Sammy Davis Jr., Dionne Warwick,
and joining Hugh Hefner for Sunday lunch at the Playboy Mansion.
My wife
Dolly and I had been married 60 years when I started writing, and tapping out
those intervening years made me realise the many months I had been away on
locations, away from her and my two daughters. The film industry is a hard
taskmaster, and our families suffer for our art, so I wanted to include them as
they are woven throughout my long career — ‘long’ being the operative word.
I
thought I'd start with a little action. It seemed the right way to go, and so I
began with the epic A Bridge Too Far —
"There I was, 100 feet up, hanging on a malfunctioning parachute —" I
know! Anyway, the chute was malfunctioning, and I thought I was about to die.
They say that in that situation your life flashes before you. I survived and
decided to write the book as though my life was flashing before me.
I began
writing and couldn't stop! Covering 1940 up to the swinging 60’s and on to late
1996, the page count was over 500 — too many for one book — and I had more
stories too, both in front of and behind the camera, plus I was still working
in 2025.
What
could I cut out that wasn't part of my life? The early wartime stories I had
written for my grandchildren, to help them understand what it meant to be in a
war and to know poverty. I thought perhaps those could go, but the friends who
read it said to keep them in, as it is not just my story — it's history.
Although
I was warned against putting my life into two books - being told it would never
work, it looks like it may actually be three! Book 1, Falling
Into Film: A Stuntman's Early Adventures, is
published. Book 2, From Pinewood to Hollywood
(working title) covering through to 1996, is written and I'm editing it. And
Book 3..?
I now
know how to start a book; the trick is knowing when to stop.
Disc reviewers have an obligation to listen carefully to
audio commentaries.But as a growing
number of 4K and Blu-ray releases now offer as many as three (sometimes more)
separate commentary tracks, it’s becoming a challenge to give them all a proper
listening.Having sat through a couple
of hundred of such multiple audio commentaries, you learn there’s a lot of repetitive,
mind-numbing information to wade through.Having said that, I’ve also discovered even the most well-read of film
enthusiasts can glean something new or interesting.
I certainly learned something new from Rob Kelly’s
commentary of Herbert L. Strock’s The
Crawling Hand (1963).Almost as an
aside, Kelly casually informs that those who attending a 1963 screening of The Crawling Hand and The Slime People at Rutherford, New
Jersey’s Route 3 Drive-in in were treated to a third exciting “extra attraction.”
This nugget of information was not only new to me, but even personal.The Route 3 Drive-in was my drive-in theater in the late 1960s and 1970s, a venue associated
with precious familial memories.
Apparently, just as the showing of The Crawling Hand was getting underway, a fire broke out in the
kitchen of the drive-in’s cement block concession stand.Though the concessionaires did their best to
put out the flames via fire extinguisher, it was of little benefit.Ultimately it took the efforts of five local
fire companies to extinguish the inferno.According to a report I found in the Passaic
Herald News, the entire “interior of the four-lane, cafeteria style
refreshment stand was gutted,” damage estimated at some $25,000.
Luckily the theater’s projection booth – seven-five feet
away - was not damaged.The General
Manager of the drive-in chose to keep rolling The Crawling Hand despite the curious crowd’s attention having understandably
shifted from the screen in front to the inferno blazing behind.“The show must go on,’ the GM told reporters,
defending his decision to keep the projectors rolling throughout the torching.
‘We haven’t missed a showing in 17 years.”I imagine those who waited to purchase their popcorn, candy and soda
until intermission were now second-guessing that decision.
Reading through news accounts of the event, I was
surprised to learn The Crawling Hand
began rolling as early as 6:30 PM.That
starting time made no sense.It was only
then that I discovered the fire broke out on Sunday night, December 22,
1963.December… in New Jersey?So of course it was dark at 6:30 PM.The drive-in was apparently still showing
films during a wintry Christmas week.I decided
to check out the newspaper’s weather forecast that night: high temps in the low
20s with a chance of snow after midnight.No wonder everyone was crowding around the concession stand fire.They were trying to keep warm.
Which brings us, at long last, to VCI’s new Blu-ray mirroring
(sans fire) that double-feature of The
Crawling Hand and The Slime People,
released a mere sixty-three years following the Route 3 drive-in screening.VCI had previously issued these two pics as a
single DVD release in 2013, nicely upgraded here.Some of the bonus features included on the DVD
set are included here (minus the film’s original trailers).Most notable is Tom Weaver’s audio interview
with actress Susan Hart (“Lisa Galbraith” in The Slime People).
However, we’re going to start with The Crawling Hand.Director Herbert
L. Strock was obviously interested in movies offering macabre fare, often pics
with sci-fi shadings. Though he primarily
worked in television, Strock had also directed a number of big screen flicks.Some of these are warmly remembered fondly by
horror-film aficionados: Gog (1954), I Was a Teenage Frankenstein (1957), Blood of Dracula (1957) and How to Make a Monster (1958).While disembodied crawling hand films weren’t
entirely new – Robert Florey’s mystery The
Beast with Five Fingers (1946, with Peter Lorre) is perhaps the best
recalled – Strock gives that old premise a new sci-fi twist. The cast of The Crawling Hand is comprised of a lot
of television talent (Alan Hale Jr., Peter Breck and Kent Taylor), but also
features two big-screen figures: one old (Richard Arlen of the 1927 silent
classic Wings), one new (Allison (Attack of the 50-Foot Woman) Hayes). Despite
its measly budget, The Crawling Hand delivers
adequate chills and offers a passably engaging story.
The folks at the Route 3 Drive-in who chose to forgo The Crawling Hand to watch the
concession stand burn down that December night missed the better of the two films.
The space center has briefly lost contact with the solo astronaut piloting
their X-20 lunar spaceship on its return to Earth. The control center team of
Steve Curan (Peter Breck) and Dr. Max Weitzberg (Kent Taylor) are troubled by
this interruption of contact as they’ve tragically already lost an astronaut –under
similar circumstances - on a previous lunar mission descent.
They do finally make contact with X-20, but the aggrieved
voice of the spaceman – who claims to have been without oxygen for some
twenty-minutes - implores the techs to push the “red button” and destroy the plummeting
craft.When asked why he’s chosen not to
simply push the destruct button available inside the craft itself, the
desperate astronaut mysteriously answers, “It won’t let me.”It’s a pretty cracking beginning.
The action then shifts to earth where medical college
student Paul Lawrence (Rod Lauren) is busily wooing Swedish foreign exchange
student Marta Farnstrom (Sirry Steffen).Their fun afternoon on the beach is spoiled however when the pair
discover a severed arm on the sand.Paul
later collects the arm and brings the appendage home with him, hiding it behind
some chemical beakers on his shelf.This
turns out to be a not particularly good idea.
The radiation-burned hand is somehow imbued by an alien energy
that takes control of human hosts and commands them to strangle fellow
earthlings.This rampage begins with the
strangulation of poor old Mrs. Hotchkiss (Arline Judge) with whom student Paul
boards.A coroner’s report identifies
the fingerprints that strangled Hotchkiss as that of astronaut Mel
Lockhart.But how can that be?Lockhart, the pilot of X-20 is, of course,
dead.One need not worry as perplexed scientists
Curan and Weitzberg along with non-believer Sheriff Townsend (Hale Jr.) – the
latter of whom suspects Paul is Hotchkiss’ murderer – are on the case.
On his commentary of The
Crawling Hand, Rob Kelly (“artist, reviewer, podcaster and film buff
extraordinaire!” as per the sleeve notes) offers a light, fun and informative accounting
of this opus.He blessedly keeps the IMDB
filmography listing credits of cast and crew members brief.He also (as so many commentators
understandably do) references stories culled from the pages of Tom Weaver’s indispensable
catalog of first-person interviews with the people connected to the production
of these films.Kelly, of course, also
provides and mixes in his own unique insights and research findings as
well.One such moment occurs when he recounts
the amusing controversy surrounding the design of the film’s original one-sheet
poster.
The original “blue” poster featured a photo frame of half-nude
actress Steffen posing lasciviously, her prominent, half-draped backside on
display with the blurb, “She revealed her
body but not the secret!”Due to the
protests of the ever-present morality police, a second “green” one-sheet was
commissioned to replace the “nudie” photo with one of fright-faced astronaut “Mel
Lockhart.”Interestingly, the moralists
didn’t take issue with the block image of actress Arline Judge being strangled
“in a violent manner.”Which just goes
to show what images, circa 1963, our forgiving-of-violence society deemed acceptable.
Criterion has released a new 4K special edition of director John Boorman's 1967 crime classic "Point Blank", a film that was pivotal in breaking ground in terms of presenting on-screen violence in a realistic fashion. Here, an admirer of the film, director Jim Jarmusch, describes the aspects of the movie that led him to name this his favorite crime movie.
From Criterion:
"Presented here is an excerpt from a new interview with Jarmusch that is available in full on Criterion’s new 4K-restoration edition of POINT BLANK, alongside a full-length commentary featuring Boorman and Steven Soderbergh; a documentary on Alcatraz and the making of the film; a new program on the Los Angeles architecture in the film; interviews with John Boorman, Lee Marvin, and critic Mark Harris; and more."
In addition to being an Oscar winning actor, Ray Milland’s
impressive credentials included his work as director. Commencing in the mid-1950s, Milland helmed
several low-budget films, casting himself in the starring roles.Most were undistinguished pot-boilers, but Panic in the Year Zero! is an anomaly.
The film presents the era of Cold War paranoia in a vivid and disturbing manner
that overshadows the movie’s meager production values and Milland’s often
clunky direction. He stars as Harry Baldwin, a typical middle-class,
middle-aged American who seeks nothing more than to load up his caravan/trailer
and take his family on a pleasant camping excursion in a remote mountain area
of California. He’s joined by his wife Ann (Jean Hagan) and his teenaged kids
Rick (Frankie Avalon) and Karen (Mary Mitchel).No sooner do they get on the outskirts of Los Angeles when they witness
an enormous mushroom cloud. News comes through the radio that the U.S. and an
unnamed enemy nation are engaged in nuclear strikes against each other. Harry
decides he has to move quickly to safeguard his family – at any cost.
It’s at this point in the story that the tale becomes
distinctive from the general pacifist nature of nuclear Armageddon films that
were produced during the Cold War. If Stanley’s Kramer’s On the Beach was a cautionary tale seen through the prism of a
liberal, Panic in the Year Zero! appears
to have been written by the executive board of the National Rifle Association.
The character of Harry Baldwin may emerge as the voice of sanity and
decisiveness, but only from the standpoint of being willing to do whatever it
takes to survive – and damn to hell anyone who gets in his way. This aspect of
the film is what separates it from most of the ‘kumbaya’-themed pacifist
messages exuded by other movies of the era.
Harry’s first move
is to exploit people in remote towns who have not heard the devastating news
about the destruction of Los Angeles. The concept of a population segment being
ignorant of the destruction of a major city may seem absurd in the age of
instant communication, but it was a conceivable concept in 1962. He immediately
buys up all of the supplies, guns and ammunition he can before the townspeople
realize their very survival will depend on access to these items in the days to
come. When his money runs out, he blatantly terrorizes and robs an innocent
shop keeper to get his stash of guns and ammo. This hardly makes for the
actions of the typical American screen hero of the era, but that’s precisely
what makes the film bristle with tension. At another point, Harry and his
family attempt to get their car and trailer across a motorway upon which
thousands of other cars are speeding away from the L.A. area. He devises a
unique solution to the problem by pouring gasoline on the roadway and igniting
it. In the resulting chaos, he’s able to cross the road, but innocent drivers
are endangered and their cars burst into flames as the result of his actions. Harry’s
actions horrify his wife but he justifies his behavior by citing the necessity
for practicing a Darwin-like philosophy that only the fit will survive the
brave new world that the nuclear holocaust has initiated.
Ultimately, Harry leads his family to a remote cave in
the midst of a forest where the family used to vacation. Here, his survivalist
instincts are brought to the fore as he prepares his loved ones for a
threadbare existence. Armed to the teeth, he jealously guards the meager domain
they have established. Harry’s paranoia proves to be justified when his
daughter is brutally raped by a roving band of teen-aged thugs. He tracks them
to a house where he rescues Marilyn (Joan Freeman), a teen-aged girl who is being
kept as a sex slave by the thugs, who have murdered her parents. This leads to dramatic
developments that we won’t divulge here, ‘lest we provide spoilers.
What sets Panic in
the Year Zero! apart from other doomsday thrillers of the period is the
willingness to show the central protagonist engaging in behavior that was
completely against the grain for American screen heroes of the era. Milland
also doesn’t shy away from other distasteful aspects of the character’s plight.
While other directors might have compromised on the sequence of Harry’s
daughter being sexually threatened, the script makes it quite clear that the
girl has indeed been actually raped, leaving her parents to grapple with the
inevitable psychological burden she will carry henceforth. The filmrather perversely benefited from real life
events, as it was released only months before the Cuban Missile Crisis which
brought the world to the brink of nuclear war and made widespread the same
paranoid instincts Milland’s Harry displays in the story. (In America, people
coped with scenarios such as whether to allow their neighbors into their
well-stocked backyard fall-out shelters if nuclear war were to break out, a
plot device used by Rod Serling in a classic episode of The Twilight Zone.)
Without the benefit of a sizeable budget, Milland the director sometimes makes
awkward concessions to the technical aspects of the production, which are
indeed shoddy. Still, he displays a bold instinct as a filmmaker that makes one
wonder what caliber of films he could have been capable of creating if he had
been given adequate resources. As it stands, Panic in the Year Zero! is a flawed, but compelling film that
boldly explores territory that many more mainstream productions would have
shied away from. The movie is currently streaming on Amazon Prime.(The film is currently out of print on physical media in the U.S.)
Carpenter. Romero. Craven. Hooper.
Cronenberg. These legendary directors are immediately recognizable to fans of
horror cinema; especially fans of late 20th century horror cinema.
However, there are some filmmakers who, although their filmographies aren’t as
extensive, have made some classic and sometimes original horror movies, but
never got the recognition they truly deserved. Brooklyn born Jeff Lieberman is
definitely one of those filmmakers. With only five genre flicks to his name (so
far), the talented Lieberman has directed some completely solid and seriously
underrated works.
His entertaining filmography began with
1976’s Squirm, a nature-strikes-back
movie in which a horde of carnivorous worms attack a small Georgia town. In
1981, Lieberman contributed to the super popular slasher genre with Just Before Dawn, a great flick which
sees a group of vacationers terrorized by homicidal twins in the Oregon Mountains.
Although the movie seems to be inspired by Tobe Hooper’s 1974 masterwork The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, Lieberman
had never seen the film (at that time) and has stated that he was instead
influenced by John Boorman’s Deliverance
(1972). Next up is 1988’s fun Remote
Control, a sci-fi/horror picture where an alien-made VHS tape turns viewers
into crazed killers. It would be almost two decades before Lieberman would
direct again, but, in 2004, he didn’t disappoint with Satan’s Little Helper, a black comedy which takes place on
Halloween and follows a young boy who unwittingly accompanies a masked killer
on a murder spree.
Lieberman’s films are not only extremely
enjoyable, but they are clearly the product of an artist with a definite point
of view and all of his movies are now considered cult classics. Recently, Blue Sunshine, which, in my opinion, is
the writer/director’s greatest work, has been released on 4K Blu-ray.
Blue Sunshine deals with Jerry
Zipkin (Zalman King), an innocent man wrongly accused of murdering several
people at a party. While on the run and trying to clear his name, Jerry
discovers that the real killer’s homicidal psychosis stems from a drug he took
in the 1960s called Blue Sunshine. The delayed side effects of this
hallucinogen are hair loss, splitting headaches, sensitivity to loud noises,
total insanity and an extreme urge to kill. What’s worse, Jerry comes to the
horrifying realization that Blue Sunshine had been taken by many people in the 60s
and all of them are now walking time bombs.
In a list of little known, underrated horror
films, Blue Sunshine would be close
to the top. It’s an extremely engaging and original horror/suspense film
(Lieberman came up with the idea after his brother, who is a doctor, told him
about patients freaking out years after dropping acid) with a simple, but very
effective premise. Lieberman keeps the mesmerizing story moving and deftly creates
many moments of dread as well as perfectly timed bits of humor.
Distributed by Cinema Shares International in
late 1977, Blue Sunshine is greatly
helped along by its incredible assortment of talented actors. Zalman King
rightly gives a bizarre, over-the-top and eccentric performance as the
panic-stricken, erratic and desperate hero Jerry Zipkin. Supporting King, we have
marvelous turns from Deborah Winters, Mark Goddard, Robert Walden, Charles
Siebert, Alice Ghostley, Stefan Gierasch, Billy Crystal’s look-alike brother
Richard, and the late, great Brion James, just to name a few.
This criminally overlooked, frightening and
sometimes humorous film should have put Lieberman on the map. Why it didn’t, I
have no idea except that maybe it was just too quirky for the “normals”. For
example, there’s a wonderfully surreal puppet show featuring Frank Sinatra and
Barbara Streisand hand puppets, a parrot that keeps saying “Blue Sunshine”, and
Brion James imitating Rodan from a Godzilla movie. This is an imaginative,
individualistic and amazing movie from an extremely gifted filmmaker and I highly
recommend checking it out.
Blue Sunshine has been released on
a region A, B, and C 4K disc by Synapse. It is presented in its original 1.85:1
aspect ratio and the beautiful 4K restoration of the original 35mm camera
negative mastered in Dolby Vision (HDR10 compatible) boasts sharp images and
terrific sound, making it superior to all previous releases. The disc is also
loaded with special features. We are treated to two audio commentaries by Jeff
Lieberman; a new introduction by Lieberman; an archival Jeff Lieberman
interview from 2003; Lieberman on Lieberman video interview; Channel Z Fantasy
Film Festival interview with Mick Garris and Jeff Lieberman; Fantasia Film
Festival 4K premiere Q&A with moderator Michael Gingold and Jeff Lieberman;
two anti-drug “scare films” from the late 1960s; Lieberman’s first film The Ringer presented in both the
original uncut version (from a projection print source) and the final release
version (remastered in 4K from the original camera negative). The uncut version
features optional audio commentary by Lieberman and moderator Howard S. Berger.
Last, but not least, we have a still gallery as well as the original theatrical
trailer. A must have. (Blue Sunshine
is also available in a 3-disc limited edition which features the 4K disc, a
Blu-ray and a CD soundtrack.)
Iconic actress, singer, and
dancer joins screening of "Bye Bye Birdie" at Omaha Community
Playhouse in benefit for Douglas County Historical Society
OMAHA,
Neb., April 2026 -- Ann-Margret, the two-time Academy Award-nominated actress
and five-time Golden Globe winner whose career has spanned more than seven
decades, will make a rare personal appearance in Omaha on Friday, May 15, as
the featured guest of Omaha Classic Film Event.
The
evening will center on a special screening of "Bye Bye Birdie," the
1963 musical comedy that helped launch Ann-Margret to national stardom. She
will appear live onstage, with film historian and the event's producer Bruce
Crawford and take part in a discussion of the film and her career this will be
Crawford's 54th event in Omaha since 1992.
·Doors open at 6 p.m. at the Omaha Community Playhouse, 6915 Cass
Street. The program begins at 7 p.m.
·Proceeds from the event will benefit the Douglas County Historical
Society.
·Tickets go on sale April 22nd, are $40 each, and are available in
limited quantity at douglascohistory.org or by calling 402-455-9990.
Ann-Margret's
career includes acclaimed roles in "Carnal Knowledge,"
"Tommy," and "Grumpy Old Men," among dozens of others. Her
work has earned her five Golden Globe Awards, an Emmy Award, and nominations
for two Academy Awards and two Grammy Awards.
Omaha
Classic Film Event was founded by film historian, documentary producer, and
lecturer Bruce Crawford in 1992. The series has hosted a long roster of
Hollywood figures over more than three decades, including Janet Leigh, Debbie
Reynolds, Tippi Hedren, and many others. Past events have been held at Omaha
landmarks including the Joslyn Art Museum and the Orpheum Theater.
"These
events are dedicated to honoring the greatest films and filmmakers in
Hollywood's history," Crawford said, "and to giving audiences an
experience they simply cannot find anywhere else."
The
series has earned recognition from Turner Classic Movies host Ben Mankiewicz,
film critic Leonard Maltin, and Jean Picker Firstenberg of the American Film
Institute.
Omaha
Classic Film Event is Bruce Crawford's long-running classic film tribute
series, producing special screenings with celebrity guests, live presentations,
commemorative artwork, and community-benefit programming since 1992. For more
information, visit the official event archive online.
About
Douglas County Historical Society The Douglas
County Historical Society works to preserve and share the history of Douglas
County, Nebraska. The organization operates the Crook House Museum, open to the
public seven days a week, with self-guided tours available; no
reservations are required. For more information, visit douglascohistory.org.
Hot
off the grill, er, press, is this unique and whimsical cookbook “inspired by
the films of Wes Anderson.” Note that director/writer Anderson is not credited
anywhere in the book and, in fact, there is an “Unofficial & Unauthorized”
disclaimer on the front… and yet anyone familiar with Anderson’s movies will no
doubt feel his presence here. Well, maybe his tastes. In food, that is.
Chris
Peterson has written witty prose that captures much of the quirkiness of those celluloid
delicacies such as Rushmore, The Royal Tenenbaums, Fantastic
Mr. Fox, Moonrise Kingdom, The Grand Budapest Hotel, Isle
of Dogs, The French Dispatch, and all of Anderson’s other titles you
may or may not have seen. Illustrations by Heidi Peel capture Anderson’s visual
sensibilities in eccentric pastels and fanciful nods to places and maybe characters
in the movies. But it is the imagination of Michelle Anderson (no relation),
who created the recipes in the book, and her work shines here.
Peterson
has done several works on home improvement, cooking, and general reference
categories. Michelle Anderson was a chef for twenty years before becoming a
food writer and author of several cookbooks.
Divided
into six “Acts,” we start with Rise & Shine Breakfasts. My wife,
Randi Frank, tried out the deceptively simple Omelette Á La Policier,
described as “uniquely French as the Eiffel Tower” and “particularly embraced
in Ennui-sur-Blasé (the town in The French Dispatch). The recipe is
inspired by the Omelette Mere Poulard, which is a cross between an omelette and
a soufflé. It is extremely light and delectable. The ingredients are 1/4 cup of
lardons (bacon pieces), two large eggs, and 1-1/2 tablespoons of unsalted
butter. The lardons are sautéed until crispy. The eggs are beaten at high speed
with an electric mixer until they are foamy (maybe two minutes). The butter is
swirled in a large skillet (preferably copper) over high heat. The eggs are
added and cooked for a minute. Sprinkle on the lardons, let the omelette stand
for thirty seconds, then fold it over after sliding it onto a plate. Wow.
Act Two consists of Fantastic
Appetizers & Snacks; Act Three: Spectacular Sides & Salads;
Four: Tipples & Quaffs, a collection of mighty fine-sounding
beverages; Five: The Grand Main Course; and finally, Six: The Sweet
Life (desserts, of course).
We tried as a main course Suzy’s
Lake Trout Almondine (inspired by Moonrise Kingdom). This was especially
to die for. You need boneless trout fillets, sea salt, ground black pepper,
cornstarch, unsalted butter, raw sliced almonds, lemon zest, fresh lemon juice,
and fresh chopped parsley. You’ll have to get the book to see the preparation
instructions. It’s not difficult if you’re somewhat experienced in the kitchen.
This course was supported by Rosemary’s Carrots (inspired by Rushmore),
which consists of baby (young) carrots, extra virgin olive oil, chopped fresh
rosemary, minced garlic, lemon pepper seasoning, sea salt, and rosemary sprigs
for garnish. Oh my. Tender and delicious.
These are just three of the fifty-nine
recipes included in the book. Mind you, the recipes range from easy/moderate to
difficult/involved. But if you know your way around a kitchen and can obtain
all the necessary stuff to make things like Blueberry-Filled Donuts, Minced
Lamb Bonbons in Pastry Purses, Roasted Duck with Olives, or New
Penzance Sandie Truffles, all washed down with, say, a Bottle Rocket
with a Splash… you’re in for some mouth-watering delights.
The Wes Anderson Cookbook is for cooking enthusiasts, and for fans of the films of Wes
Anderson.
In
the 1960s, the legendary French actor Jean Gabin was already a veteran actor
near the end of his career. After working with renowned filmmakers like Jean
Grémillon, Jean Renoir, and Jacques Tourneur,
Gabin teamed up with the prolific Gilles Grainger to make the neo-noir “Maigret
Sees Red” (1963). This would be Gabin’s third and final appearance as the
detective Jules Maigret, and like the previous two films, it was a boxoffice
hit in its native France, although it was not as well received by critics as
the previous Maigret films.
Based
on the Belgian writer Georges Simeon’s novel “Maigret, Lognon and the
Gangsters” (1951), “Maigret Sees Red” is very much influenced by American noir
films, with its neon-lit city streets and hard-nosed, Sam Spade-like
protagonist. After three men cruising through Paris shoot a bystander and the
body turns up missing, Gabin’s detective Maigret gets involved in a gang war
between dangerous American mobsters and the FBI. As he investigates further,
Maigret finds himself in a race against time to stop the gangsters from killing
a key witness to the shooting.
What
made the Maigret films so popular was Gabin’s tough, yet charming and
sardonically humorous portrayal of Maigret. With Gabin as the detective, one
always got the sense that no matter how dangerous or seemingly unsolvable the
case may seem, Maigret would always find a solution due to his punctilious and
authoritative personality. Gabin brings a certain gravitas to the role of
Maigret, and one always senses that his very presence in a room will bend the
will of even the most cunning criminal. Grainger cleverly emphasizes this
robust aura of Gabin in “Maigret Sees Red” by contrasting his character with
the weaker, less decisive detective of Longnon (Guy Decomble). Indeed, much of
the enjoyment of “Maigret Sees Red” is seeing how Maigret and Longnon approach
the investigation, and their at times humorous interactions with each other.
“Maigret
Sees Red” is a slow-burn noir that contains some surprisingly violent scenes
that burst out of the film like rapid fire gunshots, including a vicious attack
by the gangster Cicero (Michel Constantin) when he is cornered by cops.
Although it takes a bit for the film to build momentum after the first act,
Grainger does a good job of steadily raising the stakes throughout the film,
culminating in a thrilling last act as Gabin confronts the various villains
head on.
Released
on Blu-ray by Kino Lorber, “Maigret Sees Red” contains a new 4K restoration
from Studio Canal, with a DTS-HD Master dual-mono track (24-bit). The 1080p
transfer is crisp and clean, and nicely highlights the cinematography by Louis
Page, with its dark noir-tinged shadows and neon-lit Parisian streets. Much of
the film is set during nighttime and in dark rooms, giving it a foreboding
atmosphere that Kino’s transfer nicely displays. The audio mix is clear and
does justice to Francis Lemarque’s jazz-themed score. The extra features
include an informative audio commentary with film critic and writer Simon
Abrams, in which he goes into detail about the differences between Simeon’s
novel and Grainger’s adaptation, and also provides interesting context and
background about the filming decisions and actors. Also included are the
theatrical trailer, and optional English subtitles.
If
you’re a fan of French crime films and Gabin, Kino Lorber’s Blu-ray edition of “Maigret
Sees Red” is highly recommended, and it does a great job of highlighting a
neo-noir film that deserves more recognition.
Here's the original trailer for the 1975 Alistair MacLean western/mystery "Breakheart Pass", directed by Tom Gries and featuring a sterling cast: Charles Bronson, Ben Johnson, Jill Ireland, Richard Crenna, Charles Durning, Ed Lauter, David Huddleston and Bill McKinney among other familiar faces. If the trailer whets your appetite, then you might want to read our latest issue, #64, with the film as our cover story. Click here to subscribe for the current season and get all three issues throughout 2026.
"The Hawaiians" was regarded as a cinematic misfire, was released in England under the title Master of the Islands. The
1970 big budget movie was a critical and commercial failure in its day,
but evaluating it after all these years leads the viewer to accentuate
its many positive elements. The story is actually an official
continuation of James Michener's Hawaii, which was made into a
major film in 1966 that curiously also underwhelmed critics and public.
This sequel doesn't have the epic proportions of its predecessor, but it
does boast some impressively lush production values and a typically
enticing score by Henry Mancini. For this film, Heston reunited with
director Tom Gries, with whom he made the vastly under-appreciated 1968
Western "Will Penny"which
Heston regarded as one of his most satisfying artistic accomplishments.
He is cast against type here in a somewhat unsympathetic role during a
period of his career in which he was typically cast as a stalwart heroic
figure. Heston plays Whip Hoxworth, a hard-nosed sea captain who
transports luckless Chinese immigrants to Hawaii where they become
cheated, abused and enter into what amounts to indentured servitude. The
opening sequence finds the Chinese crammed into the sweltering hold of
the ship and falling victim to illness and malnutrition. Hoxworth only
adds to their misery by applying beatings and coldly calculating his
human cargo in terms of acceptable deaths, 'lest his ultimate profits
fall short of expectations. Hoxworth is the black sheep of a wealthy
family. He is cut out of his father's will and has a contentious
relationship with his siblings, who have little use for him. Barred from
further sea duties, he is relegated to a failing plantation which he is
determined to turn into a success, if only to spite his relatives.
Geraldine Chaplin is his half-Hawaiian wife, whom he adores but who, for
reasons never satisfactorily explained in the script, turns frigid
after their son is born.
The film tells a parallel story about
the plight of two immigrants who work on his plantation: Nyuk Tsin (Tina
Chen) and Mun Ki (Mako), two people who, through necessity, live as man
and wife even though Mun Ki tells Nyuk Tsin that the children she has
borne him will not be considered hers. Instead, Chinese tradition
dictates that they will ultimately return to China where his wife will
assume the mantle of mother and Nyuk Tsin will be relegated to the
status of an aunt. The couple's hard work appeals to Hoxworth's
generally dormant sympathies and he allows them to prosper financially,
especially when they successfully grow the first pineapples on Hawaii - a
development that makes Hoxworth rich. However, the film piles crisis
upon crisis on each of the major characters, including political
intrigue, armed revolution and, in particularly affecting sequences,
outbreaks of leprosy and plague. John Phillip Law appears late in the
134-minute film as Heston's grown son, whose humanitarianism brings him
into direct conflict with his father's Machevellian ways.
The Hawiians is big-budget soap
opera at every level, but it's a consistently engrossing one. Heston
excels playing part that takes him into new territory as an actor. The
supporting cast is equally good, with both Mako and Tina Chen giving
outstanding performances. It can't be said that the film is an
unqualified success, but it's never boring and it probably seems more
impressive today than it did at the time of its initial release. It
should be mentioned that the movie has a fine score by Henry Mancini.
There are worse fates than spending a couple of hours with Heston under
any circumstance.
("The Hawiians" is currently streaming on Amazon Prime.)
Cindy Williams was one of the funniest actresses imagineable,
best known for her immortal pairing up with future filmmaker Penny Marshall (no
comedy slouch either by any means) in their megahit TV situation comedy Laverne
& Shirley. Yet Williams could also easily do drama and proved it in two
all-time classics: Francis Coppola's thriller The Conversation and
George Lucas's coming-of-age gem American Graffiti.She goes for comedy played straight in John
Binder's UFOria (1981, released 1984 by Universal) with interesting
results.
Willians plays Arlene, a Born Again Christian who
works as a cashier at a smalltown grocery store. She believes Jesus is
connected to all the frequent flying saucer sightings that are happening in the
community.A con artist who likens
himself to looking like a young Waylon Jennings (Fred Ward, The Right Stuff,
Remo Williams, Big Business) robs and cons his way through life.
We meet him when he attempts to shoplift in the store Arlene works in. They
eventually get involved. However, a phony, money-grubbing preacher (the ever
scene-stealing Harry Dean Stanton), turns out to be her new friend's old friend
and things will slowly get wilder as he keeps conning people amidst a rash of
UFO sightings. The townspeople who claim to have seen the aircraft start to
meet up and compare experiences with comedic results.
Fox originally had the film, then dropped it, as
no one knew how to sell it and its low-budget made the few visual effects too
dated in the Lucas/Spielberg Era. It was critics like Roger Ebert who thought
it was a buried treasure and it slowly started to find some kind of
following.Not quite a cult item, it is
laid back and leisurely in its approach and in a way movies seem not to know
how to be these days. To be sure, this is not an underrated classic . Yet, there
is still a much larger potential audience for the film and with the three leads
sadly no longer with us, it deserves to get the solid release set Kino Lorber
has given it. A time capsule in some ways and timeless in certain aspects,
UFOria is worth a look. Cindy Williams in particular reminds us of her considerable
talents and she is joined by an extraordinary cast: Harry Carey Jr., Hank
Worden, Joe Unger, Darrell Larson, James Lemp and Peggy McCay also star.
This new Kino 4K Ultra High Definition disc of
the film is pretty good, if not always great due to the older visual effects
and low budget, grain included. However, the grain is more of an issue on the
regular Blu-rays (both framed at 1.85 X 1). Both discs have the latest DTS
sound (lossless MA) in 2-track mono.This is as good as this film will ever sound, though I wish the stereo
songs were in stereo, but alas, they are not.The 4K disc has superior color and is a more impressive as a result.
Extras include a feature length audio commentary
by director Binder, associate producer Jeanne Field and moderator Daniel
Kremer, plus you also get ten original theatrical trailers for other Kino
comedy releases.
Let me say, from the start, I’m a big fan of the work Film
Masters (formerly Film Detective) undertake.They are, as they self-proclaim, “Archivists” and “Stewards” and
“Historians” of low-budget films.These
are the pictures too long neglected or deemed unworthy of serious restorative consideration.They are also aware many of the films to
which they’ve applied their white glove are not necessarily of Citizen Kane caliber.
This is made apparent in the deferential rear sleeve notes
of their new Monster Mayhem Collection:
a two-disc Blu-ray featuring four bottom-of-the-barrel 1950’s sci-fi hokum
pics.The four include Kenneth G.
Crane’s Monster from Green Hell
(1957), Nathan Juran’s The Brain from
Planet Arous (1957), and Richard E. Cunha’s Frankenstein’s Daughter (1958) and Giant from the Unknown (1958).On one commentary, author Tom Weaver suggests 1957-1958 as either the
greatest or most shallow years of silver-age cinematic sci-fi: though the genre
was exploding, piggybacking low-budget Indies were flooding the market with
dubious product.
It’s true that not every pinched-budget picture reaching
for the stars was gold - nor even gold-plated.Film Master admits, in a refreshing, non-hyperbolic manner:
“Logic
dictates that these shoe-stringers would be the least admired of the monster
movie world but, in many cases, bargain basement titles like these are just so
much fun.This collection celebrates
four all-expenses-spared science fiction sagas and the clever shortcuts taken
by their cash-strapped creators.”
“Amen” to that.I’ve no doubt that young horror and sci-fi fans scratch their heads over
boomer interest in such films.Along
with being painfully short of budget, it can be argued the four films collected
here are also hindered by workman-like scripting and lack of genuine scares.But what they might lack in “art” they most
certainly do not lack in heart.
For those of us lucky (?) to have caught one of these
double bills in the 1950s or (more likely) were introduced to them via the “free”
late-night telecasts in the 1960’s or ‘70s - these pics are a nostalgia trip
and strangely comforting.I’m pretty certainly
I was first introduced to all four of these films on Manhattan’s WPIX-TV’s
Saturday night series Chiller.Now, thanks to home video, we can watch
them any night of the week, should we choose to.And, yes, we should.
For collectors of the Film Master catalog, it should be
noted there’s – technically – nothing new here.The company previously issued all four films as individual Blu-ray releases
in 2021 and 2022.All were sourced from
4K scans of 35mm archival prints and in DTS-HD/Dolby AC3s audio.In short, they all look and play great. All are
offered in a widescreen aspect ratio of 1.85:1.All play region-free and include English SDH subtitles and chapter stops.That said, if you do already have the
original individual releases, you might want to think twice before selling off those
older discs.
There were materials on these earlier single disc
releases not ported over to this new collection.Among these: Film Master’s predecessor Film
Detective’s 2021 issue of Giant from the
Unknown had included a “collector’s booklet” of stills and notes by Tom
Weaver, as well as a theatrical trailer; Film Detective’s 2022 issue of The Brain from Planet Arous included a
special introduction by actress Joyce Meadows, a Weaver booklet and an
alternate full frame 1.33:1 version; the 2020 edition of The Monster Green Hell offered Don Stradley’s booklet “The Men Behind
the Monsters” as well as an alternate 1.33:1 version; Film Detective’s 2021
Blu-ray of Frankenstein’s Daughter
featured the doc John Ashley: Man from
the B’s, a C. Courtney Joyner booklet and a second audio commentary by
Larry Blamire.. These earlier special features are all absent from this new set.
The single particular-to-this-release is a new, more
encompassing eighteen-page booklet by Tom Weaver.Otherwise, everything on this set has been
ported over from the earlier releases: the featurettes Richard
E. Cunha: Filmmaker of the Unknown and Missouri Born: Films of Jim Davis, the audio
commentaries of Tom Weaver - singularly (more or less) on Daughter and Giant, on
Arous with the addition of the Weaver “Players.” Gary Crutcher provides a full
commentary on Giant as well, with film historian Stephen R. Bissette sharing his
thoughts on Monster from Green
Hell. We’re also again treated to a pair of worthwhile docs
courtesy of Ballyhoo Motion Pictures Productions, The Man
Before the Brain: Director Nathan Juran and The Man Behind the Brain: The World
of Nathan Juran.
Let’s begin looking at the
two films of Richard E. Cunha.As I previously
reviewed Film Detective’s single Blu of Frankenstein’s Daughter for Cinema
Retro, I’m going to limit my discussion of that film here.Basically, the oft-ridiculed Frankenstein’s
Daughter centers around the experimentations of Dr. Oliver Frank (Donald
Murphy) whom, we learn, is the grandson of the original Dr. Frankenstein
himself. Frank, in all truth, is a pretty awful guy: cynical, intense,
lecherous and high-strung. He works alongside two assistants, the
doddering Carter Morton (Felix Locher) and Elsu (Wolfe Barzell), the latter an
aged creepy colleague of his grandfather’s.
Unfortunately for such a crack team, Dr. Frank’s
experiments have all been disappointing failures. The mad doctor decides
these misfires are the result of his decisions to create only strong-willed male monsters. He’s chosen to re-imagine
his experiments by turning a female into a full-fledged monster.This, he reasons, will be enough to correct his
past mistakes as a woman’s brain is simply more “responsive to command.”To this end he’s already turned Morton’s
lovely niece Trudy (Sandra Knight) into a drug-addled half-monster.
Dr. Frank’s sexist recalibration goes awry, needless to
say.Director Cunha offered to Weaver
that Frankenstein’s Daughter was his
“biggest disappointment” for any number of reasons.The now transformed “Trudy” is so obviously a
bulky male sporting not terribly convincing horrific make-up that it’s
laughable.This is certainly one monster
film that could have been brightened by Universal Studios make-up genius Jack
Pierce creating a more feminine-styled creature.
Interestingly, Pierce did the muddied make-up of actor
Buddy Baer’s long-dead - but recently revived - Spanish conquistador in Cunha’s
Giant from the Unknown.Despite its “ultra-low budget” of $54,000, Cunha’s
first foray into feature film production is a pretty nifty production.Cunha and producer Arthur Jacobs tell Weaver
their film – shot in an around the woods and the bucolic lakes of California’s
Big Bear Valley – was, following a month of planning, shot in a total of six
ten-hour days, more or less.They were
only able to do this by working under the radar of Hollywood unions and praying
the weather held out.Jacobs admits the
film, made speculatively under the provisional titles Diablo Giant and The Giant
from Diablo Pass, ultimately took “longer to sell” than to actually produce.
I tend to enjoy Tom Weaver’s audio commentaries as much
as I do his interview books.Though this
set’s packaging only mentions Weaver as commentator for Giant, the author splices in lengthy segments of his original taped
interviews with Cunha and Jacobs from the early 1980s. Also included are
insights by such friends as Larry Blamire and Steven Kronenberg. Weaver also
shares interesting memories of getting his start as a professional writer
through a providential letter-writing friendship with Cunha.The occasionally sardonic Weaver acknowledges
that too often his fevered horror-film scholarship sometimes goes too far.We not only learn that Giant actor Morris Ankrum was suffering angry hemorrhoids
throughout production, we’re also told of an unpleasant creepy legal accusation
made against actor Baer (a charge later dismissed) in the year preceding this particular
film’s production.
Moving to disc two: in
spring of 1957 London’s Daily Film Renter described Kenneth Crane’s Monster
from Green Hell as a “reliable booking,” noting the low-budgeter made
“effective use of documentary material and ‘cuts,” plus some good model and
trick work.” But, ultimately, it was dismissed as a “booking for the less
sophisticated.”Which, I guess, is
fair.That particular notice is certainly
more gracious than the one offered in Tom Weaver’s booklet:“Not everything about the movie is bad,’
Weaver writes, ‘just… almost everything.” Green Hell was one of the many
low-budget “mutant insect” knock-offs riding the coattails of Gordon Douglas’ THEM!
(1954). The difference?Green Hell
offers African jungle giant wasps in place of U.S. desert-producing giant ants,
both mothered (of course) by unfortunate large doses of atomic radiation.
It’s obvious in his
commentary that film historian/writer/stop-motion fan/DC comic scribe Stephen Bissette
is more of a fan of the film than Weaver.His nostalgia for the pic provides a balance to Weaver’s less
enthusiastic assessment.Bissette is at
his best when sharing personal recollections of catching the film on television
or when offering well-researched background information. That’s a tough job as Green Hell runs a scant
seventy-minutes and there’s not a terribly large pool of info available on its production.To get around this dearth of info, Bissette
fills a lot of the allotted time doing deep dives into the IMDB filmographies
of cast and crew.Frankly, he’s more engaged
when relating comments gleaned from cast and crew interviews or the mining of such
seminal sci-fi film texts as Bill Warren’s Keep Watching the Skies!:
American science fiction movies of the fifties.
Bissette allows producer Al
Zimbalist too often pilloried the stock footage archives of MGM and 20th
Century Fox to creatively pad out his cheapie-features.It’s true a good deal of the time we’re not
watching footage shot by first-time director Crane, but of aged, non-matching safari
footage seen earlier in such films as in Fox’s Stanley and Livingstone (1939)
and MGM’s Trader Horn (1931). We’re also informed that Zimbalist had perhaps hit
creative rock bottom upon purchasing the rights to the 1955 Japanese Yeti film Jû jin
yuki otoko.The producer chose to discard a better part
of that film, inserting inane narration featuring John Carradine.(Those U.S. version inserts, incidentally,
were also directed by Crane at Zimbalist’s request).When Monster from Green Hell was released in
May of 1957 – not in 1958 as Bissette suggests – it was as the top-bill to Half
Human, Zimbalist’s rejiggered title of Ishir?
Honda’s Jû jin yuki otoko.
I’ve also previously
discussed The Brain from Planet Arous back in November 2025 when it was included
as part of the Corinth DVD Drive-In Retro Classics.I ended that particular review noting Arous
was “reportedly being readied for Blu-ray release by another
home video company, one known for bring loving attention to neglected films.” That
comment, of course, referenced Film Detective’s then up-coming 2022 Blu-ray issue
of the pic.
Walter Matthau was still a box office name when
Howard Zieff's House Calls (1978) was released to some success.The film finds Matthau as a surgeon and recent widow who is at
least getting quite a bit of sympathy and attention from women of all ages at the hospital he practices at. He unexpectedly finds himself getting involved with an
injured patient (Glenda Jackson, who would later reunite with Matthau for Hopscotch
in 1980) who has had bad head and jaw injurys. At
first, it is one of a few concurrent introductions going along with the other
medical characters but eventually moves towards developments between Matthau
and Jackson.Too bad the writing is very
mixed, with the decent Alan Mandel and Max Schulman, legendary Julius J. Epstein and highly overrated Charles Shyer
credited on a script that may have involved even more uncredited writers.It’s a case of too much and not enough and I’ve
personally been annoyed by the inept manner in which Art Carney as a forgetful
elderly surgeon is utilized. This trait might have been funny if used sparingly but here it is repeated numerous times.
Decades later, we know the character's affliction as Alzheimers and dementia, so brace yourself
for that part of it when (re-)screening the film.
Richard Benjamin, Candice Azzara, Thayer David,
Reva Rose, Dick O'Neill, Brad Dexter, Lloyd Gough, Jane Connell and Gordon Jump
are all a plus here, reminding us of all the great actors and character actors
Hollywood used to have an abundance of. However, I was never a big fan of the movie, despite
its impressive cast. At least the film is now available in its original form
for the first time in decades on home video. Director Zieff
was on a roll, making six interesting comedies in a row (Slither (1973,)
Hearts of the West (1975,) this film, The Main Event (1979,) Private
Benjamin (1980) and an ill-fated remake of Unfaithfully Yours
(1984,) which made for an impressive achievement.
This new Kino Lorber Blu-ray (1.85 X 1) has a
nice, solid transfer with good color and definition, adding the latest DTS
sound (lossless MA) in 2-track mono to replicate the original theatrical
monophonic sound and sadly, so are the hit records heard in the movie.Not all
films had switched to even regular Dolby Stereo yet, so monophonic releases
were still very common for a few more years.Otherwise, playback performance is just fine and, after being omitted
from the 12-inch LaserDisc and DVD versions of the film, Something by
The Beatles has been (finally!!!) restored to the film's soundtrack.Henry Mancini did the overall score for the
movie. Extras include a feature length audio commentary
by Bryan Reesman and Max Ervy, plus you also get eight original theatrical trailers for other Kino comedy releases. Of course, it inspired a TV series version, but
we'll wait for that to hit Blu-ray down the line.
Back in the 1960s United Artists distributed or launched
series that enjoyed commercial (and sometimes critical) success including James
Bond, Sergio Leone's Man with No Name trilogy and the the Pink Panther franchise.
The concept of movie series with larger budgets was a new idea.Ultimately, the esteemed United Artists gang that
was led by Arthur Krim and the Picker family left the studio and by the 1980s some
of them were running their co-founded Orion Pictures company.They purchased the rights to the well-known
Destroyer novels, from which they hoped to launch a new film franchise. The
result was the singular film Remo Williams: The Adventure Begins (1985)
with the likable Fred Ward as the title character, an allegedly dead cop back
to fight another day.
With some touches of Bond here and there, the
makers got three-time 007 director Guy Hamilton to helm the project and
two-time Bond writer Christopher Wood to co-write the screenplay, yet the
makers also wanted to have a slight retro-adventure feel (think Indiana Jones,
et al) and had all kinds of fighting and set pieces. (Unfortunately, the fight
scenes are not that impressive.) Williams investigates some strange goings-on
that eventually leads him to the U.S. Army, but it turns out to be more
sinister than expected, though not enough to make this film interesting.
Offering more misses than hits, it even has a
theme song for Remo by the underrated ex-Styx member Tommy Shaw (called ''What
If'') and a mixed supporting cast including Joel Grey as an Asian (!!!) self-defense
expert in the worst retro way, Wilford Brimley, Kate Mulgrew, Michael Pataki,
Charles Cioffi and George Coe.Dick
Clark Productions was also involved, so that is why the film ultimately played
it too safe and silly. A bomb in its time, not helping Orion who were
now free of Warner distribution, the film has gained a cult following of sorts,
but maybe not on the level of the much better Buckaroo Banzai.Either way, Ward is not bad here and his
career did not suffer too much, save hurting his lead status commercially.
Orion did promote it well at the time, but to little avail. Once viewer and
critic reactions arrived, it was finished it was deemed a boxoffice failure.
This new Kino Blu-ray is from the new 4K scan of
the film (also issued in the 4K Ultra High Definition format) and though you
can see grain and some softness in this regular HD format transfer, I can see
color improvements from the older and softer HD master used for years on
various Blu-rays.That one was a little
too dark, not doing justice to the camerawork by the great Alan Hume (B.S.C.,
in 1.85 X 1) and the result is comparatively more watchable and makes me
curious enough to want to see it in pure 4K at some point. The sound on the
older version was analog Dolby, upgraded here in simple stereo and a home
theater 5.1 mix (both in the newest DTS sound) that brings out some good things
in the soundtrack, but also its weaknesses.This is more obvious sonically than when I last watched it.
Most extras from previous editions are here, but
we get a NEW Feature Length Audio Commentary by film journalist Brandon
Streussnig.
Older extras include:
·Audio Commentary by Producer Larry Spiegel and Co-Producer Judy
Goldstein
·Lessons in Popcorn Villainy: Interview with Actor Patrick Kilpatrick
·Created, the Destroyer - Writing Remo Williams: Featurette
·Unarmed and Dangerous - Producing Remo Williams: Featurette
·Secrets of Sinanju - Training Remo Williams: Featurette
·Balance of Power - Designing Remo Williams: Featurette
Sadly, but understandably, the impressive
booklets from the Arrow U.K. and out of print Twilight Time U.S. Blu-rays are
not there, but especially annoying is the absence of the fine audio commentary
by Cinema Retro co-founder Lee Pfeiffer, Eddy Friedfeld and Paul Scrabo.It was thorough, honest, informative and
detailed, yet apparently too controversial for diehard fans of the movie.Outside of the film's many problems, this is
a glaring omission from this upgrade.Otherwise, this is worth a look for fans of the film.
Throughout his
career, Wong Kar-wai has explored the theme of unrequited love and longing in
intimate and gorgeously lensed films like “Happy Together” and “In the Mood for
Love.” Wong Kar-wai expands upon these films on a truly epic level with his
television series “Blossoms Shanghai,” based on Jin Yucheng’s novel “Blossoms.”
Now streaming on The Criterion Channel, this 30-episode series is ravishingly
romantic and set over a decade across Shanghai, Hong Kong, and Tokyo. It traces
the rising and falling fortunes of a group of characters in Shanghai during the
1990s, and the whole series is a vast Dickensian portrait of a city and its
people.
“Blossoms Shanghai” is Wong Kar-wai’s love
letter and tribute to his birth city of Shanghai, focusing on the financial
boom of the 1990s when China opened up the country’s economy, resulting in the
creation of the Shanghai Stock Market. This economic boom revitalized the
country and led to the modernization of China as the powerhouse of commerce
that it is today.
“Blossoms Shanghai”’s protagonist Mr.
Bao (Hu Ge) capitalizes on the economic boom and becomes a sort of Great Gatsby
of Shanghai, while being mentored by the wise businessman Uncle Ye (You
Benchang). Mr. Bao has amorous relations with three ambitious women (Ma Yili as
Ling Zi, Tiffany Tang as Miss Wang, and Xin Zhilei as Li Li), and faces a
fierce rival when he encounters the shark-like businessman Mr. Qiang (Huang
Jue). All these characters face off with each other to seek fame and fortune in
Shanghai’s Huanghe Road district. Like Wong Kar-wai’s previous films “Chungking
Express” and “2046,” “Blossoms Shanghai” presents its story in a beguiling
fractured narrative, deftly juggling multiple narrative strands while seamlessly
weaving backwards and forwards in time.
Wong Kar-wai and his creative team
recreated the gleaming, bustling Huanghe Road district from scratch, a sort of
Shanghainese Las Vegas strip with neon-lit restaurants and hostess bars. Both
the exteriors and interiors of Huanghe Road are intricately designed with an
old-world charm that makes 1990s Shanghai resemble the roaring 1920s of New
York. The incredibly lush and
beautiful cinematography is by the legendary Peter Pau, who also shot the
classic films “The Killer,” “The Bride with White Hair,” “Crouching Tiger,
Hidden Dragon,” “Naked Killer,” and “The Swordsman.”
Just like Jacques Tati recreated Paris
in “Playtime” and Stanley Kubrick recreated New York City in “Eyes Wide Shut,”
Wong Kar-wai recreated 1990s Shanghai’s Huanghe Road district from the ground
up, placing his characters in a vast story filled with femme fatales, scheming
dreamers, and enigmatic tycoons. This gorgeous reproduction of Shanghai during the 1990s truly immerses us in
the time period.
“Blossoms Shanghai”
culminates with some of the most emotionally powerful moments of Wong Kar-wai’s
filmmaking career, and the epic runtime gives him the time to truly explore all
facets of his various characters’ complex lives. In many ways, “Blossoms Shanghai” is like a Chinese version of “Mad
Men” with its portrait of the cutthroat nature of business, and the various
vultures and personalities attracted to the pursuit of wealth and commerce.
Wong Kar-wai has stated that “Blossoms Shanghai” is the project he has been
working towards his entire career. Indeed, with its fragmented narrative, tragically
yearning lovers, and ruminations on the fleeting nature of love and time, “Blossoms
Shanghai” is perhaps the purest distillation of what makes Wong Kar-wai such a
powerful artist. If Cahiers du
Cinema can declare the television series “Twin Peaks: The Return” by David
Lynch to be the greatest film of the 2010s, then “Blossoms Shanghai” is one of
the best films of this decade so far.
Although it’s only available for
streaming now on The Criterion Channel, there is still hope for a massive
physical media boxset of “Blossoms Shanghai” from Criterion, as Criterion has
released most of Wong Kar-wai’s previous films on Blu-ray. In the meantime, if
you’re a fan of Asian cinema and the work of Wong Kar-wai, “Blossoms Shanghai”
is highly recommended.
Cinema Retro covered this 1965 film in our war movies special edition. If you can ignore the Hollywood hokum inserted to provide a sexual element to the movie, it covers the incredible mission undertaken by Norwegian Underground fighters and every day citizens to prevent Hitler from developing an atomic bomb. Ably directed by the esteemed Anthony Mann with input from veterans of the real campaign, the film is exciting and almost too impossible to believe...but it really happened! The movie's main flaw was excluding a tragic aftermath to the successful mission. The movie succeeds as a rousing WWII thriller despite the fact that stars Kirk Douglas and Richard Harris came to loathe each other. (Lee Pfeiffer)
For more about the film and its historical aspect, click here.
Serendipity is the
film historian’s best friend.A few
years back, I was scrolling through a newspaper from 1937 looking for something
when my eyes happened upon something I was not looking for: an item in a Hollywood
gossip column passing on an intriguing vignette. At an arthouse in New York, a woman saw
something so unsettling she screamed and bolted from the theater, leaving in
such a hurry that she forgot her purse. The next day she called the management
to retrieve the purse and explain her reaction: she had spotted herself on screen.
The woman was Dr. Angelica Balabanoff and the
movie was Tsar to Lenin (1937), a
landmark archival documentary about the Russian Revolution.A lifelong radical socialist, Balabanoff had
been first secretary of the Second Congress of the Comintern, which had met in
Petrograd and Moscow from July 19 to August 7, 1920.In newsreel footage of the Congress, she was
shown quite clearly and identified by name.Lenin was in the same shot. When Balabanoff purchased her ticket, she
surely knew she had lived through some of the history she would be witnessing,
but in 1937 people were not used to seeing their past selves come back to life
on screen.The sudden flashback to her
younger self--when both she and the Soviet experiment were full of hope and
promise—was jarring.
I had never heard of Balabanoff or the film Tsar
to Lenin. Investigating further, I found that Dr. Balabanoff was not alone
in being rattled by Tsar to Lenin.It was, in its time and ever since, a one-of-a-kind motion picture
journey through the history of the Russian Revolution.Drawing upon a remarkable trove of archival
footage, collected by the obsessive motion picture pack rat Herman Axelbank and
directed and written by the literary polymath Max Eastman, the documentary
traced the end of the 300-year-old autocratic rule of the Romanov dynasty and
followed the transition to an even more ruthless dictatorship.
I soon learned that Tsar to Lenin was
not the only forgotten archival documentary from the 1930s.Eventually, my curiosity congealed into the idea behind How Film Became History:
to trace the origin of the motion picture genre that is now the central
repository for our shared history--the archival documentary.
“Films
beget films,” declared the film historian Jay Leyda, but only in the 1930s
would they become fruitful and multiply. The proliferation was due to two
parallel developments, one archival, one technological. By 1930, a sufficient
backlog of motion pictures—roughly four decades worth of filmed life—had
accrued to provide the raw material to spawn a second generation stitched
together exclusively from the first.That same year, Hollywood completed the task begun in 1927, the
re-tooling of the studio assembly lines for the recording of synchronous
dialogue.Together, the accumulation of
a film inventory and the sound of the human voice gave rise to a new motion
picture genre.
“Archival
documentary” became the term for the branch of next-generation cinema, though
the name would not stick until the end of the twentieth century. In the 1930s,
the decade in which it came of age, critics and practitioners struggled for the
right label: compilation films, library films, historical films, salvage films,
celluloid anthologies, synthetic features, episodic reelage, super newsreel,
and collections of stock footage. Whatever the name, it referred to a
parasitical genre that drew its life from pre-existing film.
By 1930, plenty of source material had grown up to feed the
new format.After the Lumière brothers
turned on their projector in 1895, the production of motion pictures
accelerated as fast as the cellulose nitrate film stock could be processed. But
if the accumulation of some forty years of film footage was a necessary
precondition for the creation of the archival documentary, the introduction of
synchronous sound into the grammar of cinema was the decisive
addition—soundtrack music, ambient noise, and, above all, the human voice.
Joined together, the commentary from a know-it-all narrator and the backlog of
film footage parented a supple new medium for the transmission of history.
(Photo courtesy of Thomas Doherty.)
The films discussed in How Film Became
History are not high-profile titles: they do not appear on Ten Best lists,
they have not made the cut for the National Film Registry of the Library of
Congress, and they are not in heavy (or any) rotation on Turner Classic
Movies.J. Stuart Blackton’s The Film
Parade (1933), Laurence Stallings and Truman Talley’s The First World
War (1934), Cornelius Vanderbilt Jr.’s Hitler’s Reign of Terror
(1934), and Eastman and Axelbank’s Tsar to Lenin are not so much below
the radar of cinematic memory as entirely off the screen.The March of Time screen magazine
(1935-1951) is better known, but perhaps less for itself than for the parodic
“News on the March” sequence that jump starts the search for Rosebud in Orson
Welles’s Citizen Kane (1941).Overall, however, the films may seem to have been chosen out of a
willful penchant for the obscure. “I’ve never even heard of Vanderbilt’s film
and I’ve taught American film history for decades,” groused a colleague who
read the manuscript.
Of course, not every forgotten film is unjustly
forgotten, but almost all are worthy of a line entry in an index of American
film history and some—like the titles above-- deserve a whole chapter.As blueprints for the archival documentary,
they are the best evidence for the overarching argument of the book: that only
with the passage of thirty-or-so years of documentation by the motion picture
medium had a sufficient backlog of footage accumulated for filmmakers to create
a new kind of film stitched together from footage from older films.
Admittedly, most people prefer to read about films they
know and admire—a book on MGM musicals or the Marvel Cinematic Universe sells
itself-- but I hope they might also like to read about films they might never
have heard of but which are crucial to the way we understand the past.
The screenplay for The
Story of Sound was written by Ben Shattuck, based on his own short story
first published in a literary magazine in 2018.The story tells the tale of two young men, the Kentucky-born Lionel
Worthing (Paul Mescal) and Newport, RI, born David White (Josh O’ Connor) who
have a chance meeting at a New England Music Conservatory.Both men are conservatory misfits and, we
soon learn, homosexuals.White’s parents
died early on, so as an orphan he was sent to live with an uncle in
England.His Uncle Silas was, in White’s
recollection, “an amateur hobbyist folksong collector” who imbued his nephew
with a love of traditional folk music.
Lionel, at the prestigious school on scholarship, did not
approach traditional music as items of mere academic interest.He was of
the tradition.Following that first
meeting, the two men hit it off instantly – professionally and romantically –
the worldlier, more supremely confident and occasionally cocky White intrigued
by his new friend from the farm.The
bespectacled Lionel was, in contrast, a country kid at heart, someone of quiet
and reserved presence.He was perplexed
to meet someone in Boston who somehow knew the mountain songs of his heritage –
in fact, a lot of the old songs.In Lionel’s view, David “had a thousand songs
in his mind” and could effortlessly suss all of them out on piano.
Though The Story of
Sound is a romance film, the truth is director Oliver Hermanus has brought
to the screen something far greater than simply another “lost love” pic.Though the film was selected as an Official
Selection for Competition at the 2025 Festival De Cannes, I’m guessing many Cinema Retro readers might be unfamiliar
with it.So it would be unfair to write a
detailed synopsis of the film as it would give away the story’s many plot twists
and turns.Simply put, at its core The Story of Sound tells a very universal
human story.Its narrative mirrors the
troubles of the times in which it is primarily set - on the eve of and at the conclusion
of WW I.The scenario also mimics many
of the same hardships recalled in the verses of the ancient and bittersweet songs
they both covet.
It’s a tale of love, of secrets, of hardship, of family, of
war and its consequences, of folklore and mystery, of youthful passion and
adventure, of changing times and life’s constant cycling of leaving and
returning.Above all else, the film
concerns itself with the burden of carrying the crushing weight of lingering
memory.This is a very involving,
melancholic film, without doubt, but one extremely moving.It’s beautifully written and masterfully constructed.Beyond the film’s gentle romantic angle,
there’s a weaving in of the universal, perhaps wistful, desire of longing for those
things that might have been.No one exits this world without paying the
price of a lifetime’s struggle of hesitative decision making and the address of
familial responsibilities.
It’s a dark film, but not necessarily dark in
content.There’s a few brightly-lit
scenes scattered about, but much of the film takes place in low-light
situations, in shuttered rooms and cabins.Even a better part of the film’s exteriors seem overly gloomily and overcast,
cloudy and gray.The cinematography of
Alexander Dynan is beautifully realized.His capture of such drab, muted colors of brown, amber and gray
perfectly match the sense of earthy moodiness conveyed in the songs sprinkled throughout.It’s ironic that when the film briefly shift’s
to the sunny skies of Rome, the bright sunlight is offset by the internal dark wrangling
of one character’s troubled mind.
The film’s soundtrack is wonderful, the pair’s ballad gatherings
true to the song-collecting practices of such real-life pioneering recording
engineers and collectors as John and Alan Lomax and Cecil Sharp.David and Lionel travel southward from Maine
to Augusta, Georgia, seeking out singers and musicians not yet touched or
otherwise influenced by commercial radio broadcasts or early 78rpm records.These are the traditional songs, recorded in
modest country homes, saloons or worksites, passed down from generation to
generation.Though the songs did not go
unchanged in their many generational or regional interpretations, all remained
rooted firmly to their antecedents: Irish, Scottish, and English balladry or West
African ancestry.
The pair travel with a collection of thirty-six wax
cylinders and a phonograph cylinder – a device in which soundwaves are engraved
via a stylus directly into wax - to record the songs of the people they meet en
route.As a child, Lionel’s
fiddle-playing father told him that his unusual musical aptitude was “a gift
from God.”Early on, Lionel heard music
in everything – in the wind and in
the trickling of streams.Music was everywhere
and wasn’t simply aural alone.He could,
in his recollection, both see and taste sound. Later on during his and David’s
song-collecting sojourn, they explain to a curious boy their cylinder
phonograph was merely a device to capture sound. When sound “touches
something,” they explain, it “makes an impression.”
Many of the songs heard in the film will be familiar to
those who listened to the polished records of the revivalist “folk boom”
artists of the 1950s and 1960s: a peculiar period when traditional music was being
mined for pop-market remuneration.Among
these are “Across the Rocky Mountains,” “Pretty Saro,” “Silver Dagger” “Come
All Ye Fair and Tender Ladies,” and “Down in the Willow Garden” to name only a
few.David and Lionel are seen combing
the backwaters of the eastern seaboard U.S. together, in search of homespun
traditional singers and musicians.They
find them everywhere: in isolated mountain communities, in remote lake coves,
embedded deep in darks woods and in secluded farming villages.Anywhere, really, where strong local musical
folkways had not yet been diluted by outside influence or mechanical modernity.
Most of the musical performances on the soundtrack – many
haunting - are performed acapella, some occasionally tempered with a bit of
mountain fiddle or old-timey string-band accompaniment.The narratives of the songs, much like the
film’s cinematography, tends to run dark.Many of the roughhewn, earnest songs are mournful – almost dirge-like – in
performance.These are the honest songs
of love and loss, of murder, heartache and hard times.These are the songs folksinger Woody Guthrie would
later deem, circa 1940, as “Hard-Hitting Songs for Hard-Hit People.”
Near the film’s conclusion, Lionel – now in his eighties
and a respected ethnomusicologist and college professor – delivers an
exquisitely beautiful, heartfelt testament to the “treasures” and import of
traditional ballad music.These songs had
long served as musical and cultural delivery systems, authentically documenting
their time.Lionel offers traditional
music was, at its best, pure “emotion in song, nothing fancy.”Yet he finds this music was somehow of
greater value than that of the worshipping, pitch-perfect chorales he once
conducted.
Those songs, no matter how expertly executed, tended to
celebrate only such supernatural entities as angels and spirits.Conversely, though more amateurishly performed
and rough in instrumental technique or vocal, the emotional and spiritual power
of traditional music was somehow greater than that made by professionals who performed
in musical halls or on radio.It’s
mostly all gone now, as there are few hamlets that mass media has not yet
touched.With a sense of profound loss,
Lionel solemnly asks in the film’s coda, “What happens to it all, all the
sounds released into the world never captured?”I’m guessing the answer is only in the lingering memories of the very
few still surviving able to recall.
Mubi’s Blu-ray release of The Story of Sound offers the film in BD50 Dual Layer with an
aspect ratio of 1.85:1 and DTS-HD MA 5.1 or 2.0 English language audio.The set offers subtitling in both English and
French and ten chapter stops.There are
no other special features included nor, in my opinion, are any necessary. The Story of Sound stands solidly on its
own.
In the 1970s, Arnold Schwarzenegger was the
king of bodybuilding. Nicknamed “The Austrian Oak”, Schwarzenegger focused all
of his attention on the sport, transformed his body and, from 1970-1975 and
once more in 1980, became a seven-time Mr. Olympia; the most prestigious title
in the bodybuilding world. In the 1980s, Arnold reinvented himself. This time,
he turned his attention to acting and, before long, he was one of the biggest
movie stars in the world; known mostly for big budget action films. Some of his
most iconic action movies are Conan the
Barbarian (1982), The Terminator
(1984), Terminator 2: Judgement Day
(1991), Commando (1985), Predator (1987), Total Recall (1990), True
Lies (1994), and Eraser (1996).
Recently, another Arnold classic—1987’s futuristic, sci-fi/action film The Running Man—was released on Blu-ray,
in an obvious attempt to cash in on Edgar Wright’s recent remake of the film
starring Glen Powell.
The 'Running Man' is
a deadly game no one has ever survived. But… Schwarzenegger has yet to play.
In 2017, the United States has become a
totalitarian police state. After disobeying orders to open fire on unarmed
criminals, Captain Ben Richards (Schwarzenegger) is framed for the killings
which were carried out by other members of the police force. Richards is
arrested, escapes and is recaptured. He is then forced to participate in The
Running Man; a top-rated TV game show in which criminals called “runners” are
pursued by deadly stalkers. If the criminals survive the run, they are granted
freedom. If not, they are violently murdered. Can Richards and his group of
fellow “runners” win the game and start life anew?
The film is well-directed by Paul Michael
Glaser, who is best known for his acting career including his starring role, with David Soul, in
the“Starsky & Hutch” TV series. Glaser works from a thoroughly enjoyable
script by Steven E. de Souza (which was loosely based on the Richard Bachman/Stephen
King novel of the same name), The Running
Man is a well-done, entertaining piece of 80s action cinema as well as a
fun Schwarzenegger vehicle.
The adrenaline-charged screenplay contains
plenty of exciting action set pieces (which are competently handled by Glaser)
and also some nice humor. The well-written characters are made convincing by
the incredible talents of Arnold, Maria Conchita Alonso and Richard Dawson. Schwarzenegger
gives another believable performance, this time as a capable, athletic and
strong everyman, and, as usual, he uses his natural charisma and humor to great
effect. Alonso is feisty and very likeable as Arnold’s love interest and fellow
runner, Amber, and Richard Dawson shines as villainous game show host Damon
Killian.
The Running Man features more great
acting talent such as Yaphet Kotto as runner William Laughlin and Jim Brown,
Erland Van Lidth and former pro wrestlers Jesse Ventura and Professor Toru
Tanaka as stalkers Fireball, Dynamo, Captain Freedom and Subzero, respectively.
There are also appearances by Mick Fleetwood, Dweezil Zappa, Ken Fuller, Ken
Lerner, Dey Young, Lynne Marie Stewart, Lin Shaye, Sven-Ole Thorsen, Franco
Columbo and George P. Wilbur. Just to name a few.
Last, but not least, the engaging film, which
was released by Tri-Star Pictures in November of 1987, benefits from a great
musical score by Harold Faltermeyer and a very catchy end credits song,
“Restless Heart (Running Away With You)”, performed by John Parr.
The Running Man may not be as well-known
as other Schwarzenegger action extravaganzas, but that shouldn’t stop you from
watching it. I’ve enjoyed this movie ever since I first saw it theatrically in
1987. It’s a thrilling futuristic actioner with a solid cast and an interesting
story that predates America’s obsession with reality television. I highly
recommend checking it out.
The Running Man has been released on
Blu-ray from Paramount in both Region A and B. The wonderful-looking and
sounding transfer, which is a significant improvement over past DVD/Blu-ray
releases, is presented in the 1.78:1 aspect ratio (the film’s original ratio is
actually 1.85:1). Strangely, the disc has no special features, but, as
mentioned, the movie looks and sounds terrific and it does come with a digital
code. If you don’t collect 4k and have yet to add The Running Man to your Blu-ray collection, this is the release to
get (but hold on to your DVD for the special features).
If
the Oscars had been around for silent films made in 1924, several surely would
have been handed out to Raoul Walsh’s epic fantasy production of The Thief
of Bagdad. Often cited as actor Douglas Fairbanks’ crowning achievement (he
starred in it and produced it), it’s difficult to imagine today how it would
have played to audiences back then. As eye-popping as Star Wars? As jaw-dropping
as The Lord of the Rings trilogy?
Whatever…
The Thief of Bagdad is still a wonder. Whether you enjoy Hollywood
silent films made during that glorious period or not, this one is worth a look.
Yes, it’s long (154 minutes, with a built-in Intermission), but don’t let that
dissuade you. It’s a riveting, vastly fascinating depiction of the magic of
cinema, even back when visual effects were primitive and nothing like what they
are today.
The
movie has been remade more than once, of course, but this was the first and
possibly most impressive. Adapted from One Thousand and One Nights, it’s
the story of a clever but common Bagdad thief, Ahmed (Fairbanks), who falls in
love with the Princess (Julanne Johnston), the daughter of the Caliph (Brandon
Hurst). With the aid of his sidekick (Snitz Edwards), Ahmed finagles a way to
become one of the Princess’ suitors, competing with the likes of the conniving
Cham Sang (Sojin Kamiyama), the Prince of the Mongols. A treacherous Mongol
slave (Anna May Wong) who attends to the Princess, conspires with Sang to foil
Ahmed in his goals and help the Mongol leader take over Bagdad.
Distributed
by the fairly new company United Artists (Fairbanks had created the studio with
his wife, Mary Pickford, Charles Chaplin, and D. W. Griffith in 1919), The
Thief of Bagdad was likely the pinnacle of spectacle at that time. One of
the prime assets the movie had going for it was the art direction by William
Cameron Menzies, easily one of the most significant production designers in
cinema history. His sets are Intolerance-style gigantic. They are
beautifully imagined Arabian Fantasy worlds with a touch of the art deco style
that was everywhere then. Even in black and white (with some scenes tinted for
nighttime, bright sunshine, and the like), the visuals are astonishing.
The
visual effects, especially in Part Two, when Ahmed (Fairbanks) goes off to hunt
for the “rarest treasure,” are, yes, a bit hokey at times; but other times they
are still convincing and magical. For example, the dragon Ahmed fights is
unfortunately a big rubber monster that wiggles around like an inflatable kids
bouncy house, and the flying giant bat looks pretty silly. But the effects of
the flying carpet are unexpectedly impressive, as are the instances of becoming
invisible with the “invisibility cloak” and climbing up the magic rope that can
stand straight and stiff.
Fairbanks
(Senior, not Junior) was the Harrison Ford of his time, or maybe the Tom Cruise.
He is extremely athletic, handsome, and built with a body that women of the
time likely swooned over. He does many of his own stunts, too. This was the
period when the actor was becoming the Hollywood swashbuckler star in
movies like The Mark of Zorro (1920) and Robin Hood (1922). The
Thief of Bagdad is easily his career high. Fairbanks is quite winning in
the role, considering the broad style of pantomimic acting that went into
silent films then. Snitz Edwards has some good comic bits, and Anna May Wong,
here in an early screen appearance, is also memorable.
Beside
Fairbanks, though, the star of the movie is Menzies and his wondrous sets.
Director Walsh had been making films since the business moved west to Hollywood
in 1914 and was an experienced, reliable craftsman who would go even further
with his artistry after sound came in, working into the 1960s!
Kino
Lorber’s Blu-ray (in their “Classics” imprint) presents a 4K restoration by
Photoplay Productions that looks about as good as we’ll ever have of this
priceless relic. The occasional artifacts and blemishes in the picture can’t be
avoided, but most of the time the image looks very, very good. The movie is
accompanied by the original 1924 score by Mortimer Wilson, re-recorded and
performed by the Frankfurt Radio Symphony and conducted by Mark Fitz-Gerald,
and a lovely, melodic score it is. An optional six minute orchestral prelude
can be added to your experience (it serves as an Overture).
An
audio commentary by film historian Anthony Slide accompanies the film. Slide
has much to offer in terms of the history of the production, and even goes into
the various Hollywood gossipy news that was going around at the time. His voice
has a peculiar, erudite quality that might be a turnoff to some listeners, but
there’s no question that he knows what he’s talking about. There’s a vintage
six minute introduction to the film by none other than Orson Welles, who admits
that he’s not a fan of the fantasy genre, but he likes this one! There are
outtakes and visual effects test footage, all of which can be interesting for
the cinephile.
In
short, The Thief of Bagdad is well worth the investment in time to see.
It is one of classics of Hollywood’s silent era, never boring, and highly
recommended for fans of cinema history.
The
new Kino Lorber Studio Classics’ Blu-ray release of Edward Ludwig’s The Man
Who Reclaimed His Head contains two audio commentaries—one by film
historian David Del Valle and another by film historian Troy Howarth. Both of
these gentlemen begin their commentaries with the same story that they each
viewed this film as a child on television, coupled with a Universal horror film
like Dracula or The Mummy or even The Invisible Man, which
starred Claude Rains, the lead actor in The Man Who Reclaimed His Head. In
both cases, the young lads expected the movie to be a horror film. After all,
it was released by Universal Studios, produced by Carl Laemmle, Jr., and also
co-starred the likes of Lionel Atwill, a mainstay in the Universal monster
flicks.
To
Del Valle’s and Howarth’s disappointment, Man was indeed not a horror
film, although with that title, that cast, that studio, and the vague promise
of a severed head somewhere in the story, one can understand how it might be
perceived as such. In fact, when the movie was released in late 1934, audiences
likely expected it to be a horror film, too, thanks to its marketing and lurid
poster. It was not a success. No, The Man Who Reclaimed His Head is a
war film and a melodrama. Del Valle and Howarth both make the argument that it
is more comparable to Universal’s own All Quiet on the Western Front (1930)
than it could be to Murders in the Rue Morgue (1932).
That
said, both commentators agree that as they grew older and became more in tune
with film history, they came to admire the picture. Over time, Ludwig’s movie
has indeed gained a better reputation, thanks to the presence of actor Rains,
for whom the material was something of a personal project. Claude Rains had
starred in a stage version of the story just prior to the making of the movie
(the Broadway show flopped, too, so one wonders how the studio justified making
the picture).
The
story takes place during World War I in France. Paul Verin (Rains) is a
journalist who is known for his political pieces. He is married to lovely Adele
(Joan Bennett) and has a young daughter (Juanita Quigley, billed as “Baby
Jane”). Verin is a rather meek, soft man, easily manipulated and gullible. He
is hired by politician Henri Dumont (Atwill) to write political material for
him. But as time goes on, Dumont is seduced by the munitions lobbyists and
becomes pro-war. Paul is staunchly pacifist and from then on refuses to write
for Dumont. Dumont gets his revenge on Paul by jockeying the system to send
Paul to the front and keep him there while at the same time seduce Adele for
himself. Paul eventually musters enough rage that he is propelled to get his
own vengeance on Dumont, and, yes, it does involve a severed head (that the
audience never sees; after all, the movie was released in the latter half of
1934 after the Production Code had kicked in).
Thankfully,
the movie is only 82 minutes long. While Rains delivers a heartfelt, emotional
performance, frankly he comes off as a whiny dweeb. Bennett is fine, but she is
quite young here at the beginning of her career, which blossomed more in the
1940s when she was playing femmes fatale. Atwill steals the show as the
heavy, and what a bastard he is. Otherwise, the melodrama unfortunately falls
into the “why should we care?” bucket. The production, however, was an A-list effort
for the time. Cinematography by Merritt B. Gerstad is lovely in glorious black
and white, and there are some battle sequences that are effective.
The
two audio commentaries are actually more entertaining than the film, especially
that of Del Valle’s, whose approach is laced with humor. The other supplements
are trailers for other Kino titles.
The
Man Who Reclaimed His Head is for fans of Claude Rains and Lionel Atwill, and
perhaps for those interested in early pre-1935 Hollywood dramas.
Edgar Allan Poe's stories have long provided fodder for movie adaptations. In the 1960s, producer/director Roger Corman struck boxoffice gold by bringing many of these tales to the screen, often with Vincent Price starring. In the ensuing years, there have been countless other cinematic adaptations of Poe's works, usually with underwhelming results. Among the production companies took that to film adaptations of novels was Cannon Films, which had come to prominence in the 1980s when Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus took control of the ailing company for the rock bottom price of $500,000. They soon became the Dynamic Duo of the film industry, churning out low-budget films that were masterfully marketed. The company soon attracted some big name talent, most notably Charles Bronson, who made many crime thrillers for Cannon. Their quality varied wildly and none were blockbusters, but the return on investment for these films usually dwarfed the returns enjoyed by major studio's big budget releases. Among the producers doing business with Cannon was Harry Allan Towers, a British producer who, not coincidentally, had made hefty profits off modestly-budgeted films. Among the most popular were his screen adaptations of Sax Rohmer's Fu Manchu stories with the titular character memorably portrayed on screen by Christopher Lee. Towers was an intriguing figure with a shady background, having fled bail for England when arrested on vice-related charges in New York City in the 1960s. (Charges were ultimately dropped when he paid a fine.) Towers had signed actors Robert Vaughn and Ernest Borgnine for his 1988 action film Skeleton Coast, which was filmed in South Africa. The country was under tremendous international pressure to disband its racist policy of Apartheid. In order to help keep the economy solvent, the country awarded major tax breaks to film producers to shoot their latest films there. Towers ended up working with Cannon Films shortly thereafter to film Alistair MacLean's adventure novel "River of Death". The film also starred Robert Vaughn along with Donald Pleasence and Cannon's in-house martial arts star Michael Dudikoff. As with "Skeleton Coast", the movie was shot in South Africa. Although its theatrical release was spotty, this was the era of enthusiasm for VHS tapes and the movie probably did well in the video sales and rental market, especially with the MacLean connection.
Towers next decided to get on board with the new audience enthusiasm for horror films that found teenagers in peril. (Critics Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel referred to this genre as "Dead Teenager Movies".) The film was originally titled "Ravenscrof"t, the name of the correctional institution where the story is set. It would later be changed to "Buried Alive!" with a notation that the film was "inspired by the works of Edgar Allan Poe". Here again, Towers thumbed his nose at the growing economic isolation of South Africa ("I'm not political", he mused) and filmed the entire movie on location there. This release would not be through Cannon, however. Instead, Towers signed a release deal with 21st Century Film Corporation, a company that specialized in the kind of fare that Cannon released. For the third time, a Towers film would star Robert Vaughn, this time with his "River of Death" co-star Donald Pleasence. To add some spice to the proceedings, Towers' cast Playboy Playmate Karen Witter (aka Karen Lorre) and popular adult film actress Ginger Lynn. Both ladies were hoping to make inroads for careers in mainstream films. The movie was shot in Jeppe High School for Boys in Johannesburg.
The story opens at Ravenscroft, an institute for teenage girls who have been deemed juvenile delinquents. One of the students/inmates had made a desperate attempt to escape but is captured by a man wearing a Ronald Reagan mask, who buries her alive. We then see our protagonist, Janet (Karen Witter) arrive at the institute, eager to start her new job as assistant to the school's fabled director, Gary Julian (Robert Vaughn.) Janet is committed to rehabilitating troubled young women and Julian has received widespread acclaim for his innovative theories and methods in pursuing this goal. Julian is proud that he is now running the school that was founded by his father, Jacob (John Carradine), whose portrait is prominently displayed in his son's office. Janet finds Julian to be what she expected: a professional, serious-minded man with the greater good of his students foremost in his mind- until she finds he is obsessed with her. Janet also finds the "students" are not only a troubled lot, but wild and rambunctious. For reasons never explained, the esteemed Gary Julian provides less oversight of the students than Colonel Klink had imposed on Hogan's Heroes. The kids run wild, smoke pot and invite local boys in for sexually-infused parties. Understandably, they prove resistant to Janet's outreach. However, she has other problems. Girls keep disappearing and Julian seems unconcerned, saying they found ways to run away. Meanwhile, she makes the acquaintance of Dr. Schaeffer (Donald Pleasence), the in-house psychiatrist who displays all the characteristics of a mad doctor from the early Universal horror films. When Debbie (Ginger Lynn), a girl Janet was succeeding in building trust with, disappears she decides to investigate. This leads to the predictable scenario of a young woman walking through foreboding settings, in this case a vast underground complex that is no longer being utilized. It is also here that our unidentified killer has been burying his victims alive behind brick walls.
Under the direction of Gerard Kikoine , "Buried Alive!", the film has every predictable aspect of this genre and if you can't guess the real killer (who is revealed well before the finale), then you should be sentenced to enroll in "Dead Teenager Movies 101". There's also no way a film was going to be set in a detention facility for wayward teenage girls without the requisite elements. Naturally, every young woman is a looker (including Nia Long, who would go on to a successful career) and thus there's no way to avoid their playful group shower scene. Yet for all the predictable elements, there are some salvageable aspects of the film. The performances by the principal actors are played straight and Karen Witter makes for a winning protagonist. Robert Vaughn is his sturdy, reliable and dignified self and only Pleasence is encouraged to chew the scenery. There's also an occasional dab of genuine suspense as we see victims subjected to a terrible fate and production designer Leonardo Coen Calgi deserves praise for designing a truly ghastly underground lair.
There is an aspect of the film's marketing that was quite deceitful. This was the last movie that the legendary John Carradine appeared in and although he receives prominent billing, he makes no more than a blink-and-you'll miss him appearance in the final moments of the movie. Ginger Lynn would later recall that Carradine was very frail and confused on the set and should not have been in the film at all. The filmmakers at least pay tribute to him in the final credits.
"Buried Alive!" is by no means the best of these types of films but it's a notch better than many. However, to say the film is "inspired by the works of Edgar Allan Poe" because of the burial scenes is as ludicrous as saying the fortune hunting aspect of "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World" was inspired by "The Treasure of the Sierra Madre".
"Buried Alive!" is streaming on MGM+ and can also be found on YouTube. (There are also numerous other films from the same era bearing the same title, so browse carefully.) It's also on Tubi but you have to suffer through commercial interruptions.
In
his brief career before he tragically passed away at the age of 59, the
Taiwanese filmmaker Edward Yang made seven essential films and two masterpieces
of world cinema. One of these masterpieces was “A Brighter Summer Day” (1991)
and the other was Yang’s swan song “Yi Yi” (2000), an intimate epic set in
Taipei about three generations of the Jian family.
Opening with a wedding and ending with a funeral, “Yi Yi” examines the daily
lives of the Jian family—the father NJ (Wu Nien-jen), the mother Min-Min
(Elaine Jin), the teenage daughter Ting Ting (Kelly Lee), and the son Yang-Yang
(Jonathan Chang). After the matriarch of the Jian family (Tang Ru-Yun) suffers
a stroke, Yang takes his time to show how this event affects and shapes the
lives of the various members of the Jian household.
With its languid, observational pace and long takes, “Yi Yi” is very much in
the tradition of slow cinema masters like Hou Hsiao-Hsien, Yasujir Ozu, Béla Tarr, and Lav Diaz.
But unlike the films of Tarr and Diaz, Yang’s “Yi Yi” is much more grounded
with its focus on human relationships, while many other slow cinema
practitioners focus more on experimental deconstructions of cinematic time.
With its emphasis on narrative drama, “Yi Yi” has a wider appeal to audiences
than many other slow cinema films.
The new Criterion 4K UHD upgrade of “Yi Yi,” which includes an original
theatrical 2.0 surround DTS-HD Master Audio soundtrack, is a revelation. While
some Criterion 4K releases are minor upgrades from their regular Blu-ray
releases, “Yi Yi” is a substantial upgrade, with a much cleaner and crisper
video presentation than its initial Blu-ray release, making it look almost like
a new film. This release comes with two discs—one contains the 4K UHD
restoration of the film, and the other is a Blu-ray with the film and
supplemental features. The extras include an insightful interview with critic
Tony Rayns, in which he discusses how Yang’s films fit in with the new Taiwan
Cinema movement, the U.S. theatrical trailer, and a booklet containing writing
by critic Kent Jones and notes by Yang. The highlight of the features is the
audio commentary with Yang and Rayns, in which Yang provides much fascinating
context on his working method.
So far, Criterion has released Yang’s films “Taipei Story,” “A Brighter Summer
Day,” “A Confucian Confusion,” “Mahjong,” and “Yi Yi” on physical media. Let’s
hope Criterion also releases the rest of Yang’s filmography. If you’re a fan of
Asian cinema, and especially of Taiwanese films, Criterion’s 4K UHD upgrade of “Yi
Yi” is a must-own release.
My first viewing of On
Her Majesty’s Secret Service was, sadly, on television.This was the infamous, re-edited and rightly maligned
two-part ABC-broadcast of February 1976.OHMSS was the only James Bond
film rarely treated to retrospective 35mm screenings in U.S. repertory cinemas.I was aware the ABC television footage-scramble
did not resemble the film as originally released.One of my most paged-through books back then was
John Brosnan’s James Bond in the Cinema.That book was, at the time, the only one
available detailing every Double-)-Seven film scene-by-scene. In May of 1980 I had
second chance to sit through OHMSS,
alas, again on television.This subsequent
ABC re-broadcast would properly restore Peter Hunt’s magnificent film to, more
or less, original form following producer Cubby Broccoli’s legal threats against
the network.
Still, I wasn’t satisfied.This was a film, a great film, one needing to
be experienced on the big
screen.I would finally get the
opportunity to enjoy a proper theatrical showing of OHMSS in March of 1982, when it was paired on a double-bill with You Only Live Twice at the Hollywood
Twin Cinema on Eighth Ave. and 47th Street in Manhattan.That was a memorable afternoon of James Bond Nirvana.In December of 1983, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service would belatedly make its way onto
home video via a CBS/Fox VHS tape or on a RCA Video Disc.I’m pretty certain it was the last James Bond
film at that time to be offered on home video to fans.
The home video revolution was in full swing by the early
1980s, with the price of tapes affordably leveling off and rental shops springing
up everywhere.The big national outlets -
such as Blockbuster - offered geeks like myself the opportunity to page through
a yellow, tombstone-sized book called the “Videolog.” This massive catalog of extant
VHS tapes allowed cineastes to look up films by title, actor or director.It was thanks to Richard Schenkman’s
oft-cited interview with George Lazenby - in the July 1978 of the fanzine Bondage – when I was first made aware
the actor made films outside of OHMSS.With the assistance of info discovered in the
Videolog, I planned to collect all the films of Lazenby’s oeuvre – at least those available on VHS.
It was the early 80s and the search took some time.Eventually I was able to collect – mostly via
mail-order - many of the actor’s films of the 70’s and early ‘80s: Universal Soldier (1971), Stoner (1974), Kentucky Fried Movie (1977), The
Newman Shame (1978), Saint Jack
(1979), Return of the Man from U.N.C.L.E.,
Never Too Young to Die (1986) and Hell Hunters (1987).Sometimes I needed to seek out such then-rare
titles as Who Saw Her Die? (1972), The Man from Hong Kong (1975) and A Queen’s Ransom (aka International Assassin, 1976) from
rare-film dealers in magazines who proffered tapes made from dodgy transfers.
Following the production of A Queen’s Ransom in 1975 - the actor’s third and final martial arts
film made for Raymond Chow’s Hong Kong-based Golden Harvest - Lazenby bounced
back between Australia, London and the U.S. seeking work.He would occasionally find short-term
employment in Australia, making appearances on such television programs as the Australian
series Matlock Police (1974) or in
Peter Maxwell’s psychological-thriller tele-film Is There Anybody There? (1976).
It was possible that Lazenby might carve out a decent living
working in Australia.Aside from the occasional
acting role, he was also would moonlight as a television and print ad pitchman
for cigarette or alcohol manufacturers (Benson & Hedges, Kirin Beer).But the actor was hoping to find success elsewhere,
preferably in the “big time” arena of Hollywood.He later lamented to Aussie journalist Jill
Bowen his career would surely remain in stasis should he stay on in Australia.“I hung around Australia for a long time a
couple of years ago,” he lamented.“I
got a few roles but nothing spectacular [despite being] “ready, willing and
able to work.I just don’t think I’m
going to make it here.”
So, in early 1976 the actor chose to relocate with wife
and family to Brentwood, California.His
goal was to revive his acting career - or as he would put it at the time – go “for
my second world heavyweight title.”The
road back wasn’t going to be an easy one.For starters Lazenby would need to obtain a resident alien green card allowing
him to work in the U.S.It was then he
discovered that, despite being a member of Equity in England, he needed to secure,
at a minimum, “two television commercials in a row” to earn a Screen Actors
Guild card in the U.S.
He was, in essence, a new actor on the scene trying to
get a break.He was serious in the
pursuit, taking acting classes from Charles E. Conrad’s famed CEC Studio in
Burbank.He also chose to take lessons
in American elocution in an attempt to disguise his Australian accent.This would be necessary if he was to break
into network TV in the U.S. He offered
to Baltimore’s Evening Sun,
“Hollywood is not very good to foreigners when it comes to television
series.Can you name one foreign actor
who is the star of a series?”He was
especially aggrieved when having recently tested for “a James Bond-type series”
he was turned down. “I can’t understand that,” an incredulous Lazenby offered
to columnist Lou Cedrone. “Can you?”
Though progress was slow – he claimed to have not worked
“the first twelve months” since his move to the U.S. - Lazenby was making some
small inroads in Hollywood.He was seen
as a James Bond-type character in the 60 sec. national TV advertising spot
“Agent” for the Sony Corporation of America.He was cast as “The Architect,” a decidedly small role in a segment of the
John Landis comedy Kentucky Fried Movie.In March of 1977 Lazenby played the role of the
villainous “Michael” in the NBC television pilot of Cover Girls, executive producer David Gerber’s rip-off of ABC-TV’s
widely-popular Charlie’s Angels.
Though the pilot caused no sensation and was not
picked-up, Jerry London, the director of Cover
Girls, was conscripted in April of 1978 to begin shooting Irwin Shaw’s Evening in Byzantium for the Operation
Prime Time indie network.It was through
Lazenby’s working with London on Cover
Girls that he managed to secure a small role in the first episode of that
four-million-dollar, ballyhooed production.The actor was, at the very least, now again involved in mainstream industry
projects.This allowed for visibility
and the opportunity to network.
One result of such networking came as something of a surprise.
Following the broadcast of Cover Girls on
18 May 1977, Lazenby received a phone call from an old friend: Harry Saltzman,
the former co-producer of the James Bond film franchise. “Harry saw me in a TV
show I’d recently made for NBC,” the actor related to Australian Women’s Weekly. “He rang me up out of the blue and said,
“Now that was a damn lousy show, but I thought that you were ger-reat.”Lazenby recalled Saltzman promised him “a
leading part” and the chance to appear alongside Michael Caine in his ambitious
(but ultimately ill-fated) science-fiction epic The Micronauts.
Lazenby desperately needed a big screen credit.With the exception of OHMSS, the actor didn’t find his filmography worthy as resume
material. He told columnist Nancy Anderson that the majority of his films post-OHMSS, “aren’t worth mentioning.I made them for people who hadn’t heard that
I’d fallen apart.” The actor sighed to
journalist Holly Spence, “I just wish they could burn all the films I’ve done
before.”He similarly lamented to
Richard Schenkman, “If I get lucky and get a hit, you’ll see all this trash I
left behind.I really made some shitty
stuff.”
Which brings us, at long last, to producer-director Al
Adamson’s sci-fi/martial-arts mashup Death
Dimension (1978).I will confess to
having a long-standing appreciation of this bargain basement epic – mostly due
to my belief the pic ambitiously tries to be something greater than it is.The film was also, for better or worse, the first
of Lazenby’s non-Bond films I managed to sort out.A clamshell case video cassette of the film
was released by Long Island’s “Best Film & Video” label in 1983.I still have it as I’m stubbornly nostalgic
and sentimental.
It wasn’t my intention to revisit this film in 2026 –
perhaps ever - but when our fearless editor recently told me the film was
available to stream on Amazon Prime I had an excuse, no matter how feeble, to
write about it.The very decent version
on Prime has obviously been taken from a German print as the title credit reads
Der
Einzelkämpfer (“The Lone
Fighter”).The film was directed by the
notorious low-budget auteur Al Adamson - whose career was recently celebrated
by Severin Films in The Masterpiece
Collection, a massive thirty-two film, fourteen-disc Blu-ray box set.I suspect this is the version currently
streaming on Amazon, but can’t say for certain.
ISSUE #61 OF CINEMA RETRO HAS NOW SOLD OUT. CONSEQUENTLY, WE CAN NO LONGER PROVIDE SUBSCRIPTIONS FOR SEASON 21. ISSUES #62 AND #63 ARE STILL AVAILABLE.
Thank
goodness for Flicker Alley, the home video label that has recently been
restoring and producing new Blu-ray titles of very classic film history
gems that include works by Laurel and Hardy, Lon Chaney, Rudolph Valentino,
Charles Chaplin, and more. The care and precision that obviously goes into
making these celluloid treasures of yesteryear look “like new” is truly
remarkable. While many of these early cinema selections from the silent era and
beginning talkies have been around on subpar VHS and DVD releases for years, a
company like Flicker Alley has stepped up and made these jewels sparkle.
Chaplin’s
Mutual Comedies is
a 2-disk Blu-ray set that includes all twelve short films made by Charles
Chaplin between 1916-1917 for the Mutual Film Corporation in Hollywood. One
could say there are five distinct “periods” of Chaplin’s work that easily
depict the evolution of his genius.
The
first was, of course, his year (1914-1915) with Keystone Studios, all produced
by Mack Sennett. This was Chaplin’s entry into cinema after performing on
vaudeville and in a touring stage company. The iconic Tramp character was
created here early on and slowly developed over thirty-six very short films
(between five and ten minutes, usually). Chaplin began writing and directing
his own pictures around film number eleven.
The
second, more important, period was the year (1915-1916) at Essanay Film
Manufacturing Company. The fifteen titles made during this time, all produced
by Jesse T. Robbins, were mostly two-reelers lasting twenty minutes or more in
length. The Tramp character became much more developed, more than just a
slapstick clown. Pathos crept in, and audiences began to feel more empathy for
the character and understand his personality better.
The
third period, featured in this Blu-ray set, was the year (1916-1917) at Mutual,
where he made twelve films that were two reelers lasting up to almost a half
hour each. Chaplin not only wrote and directed them, but he produced them as
well. Mutual gave him complete artistic control and even built for him his own
studio, Lonestar, in Hollywood. It was here that the genius truly bloomed.
The
fourth period was the transition from shorts to features (mostly longer shorts)
between 1918 and 1923 for the First National Company, which acted only as a
distributor of the titles made by Chaplin’s own production company. There were
nine films, including his first feature, The Kid (1921). The fifth
period, beginning 1923, followed, after Chaplin formed United Artists with Mary
Pickford, Douglas Fairbanks, and D. W. Griffith. He made solely feature films
from then on.
The
Mutual Comedies have many things going for them. For one, the plots are more
involved. They’re not just a setup that goes wrong and produces a few minutes
of laughter. These have deeper character development for not only the Tramp persona
but also with the supporting cast as well. Leading lady Edna Purviance shines
in these pictures. More notably is the addition to Chaplin’s “stock company” the
Scottish actor Eric Campbell, a big guy who specialized in playing the villain.
Note that in those days, it was stylistically standard to display costumes and
makeup much in the same way vaudevillians did—with broad, exaggerated makeup
that included big bushy eyebrows and long mustaches. Campbell’s appearances in
this way typified the “silent film villain.” Sadly, Campbell had a short-lived
career in film; his only appearances are in Chaplin’s Mutual comedies until his
untimely death in a car accident in 1917. Other stock company actors included
Henry Bergman and Albert Austin.
The
Mutuals also had something to say besides presenting sight gags. Several of the
pieces deal with the state of poverty, or the plight of immigrants coming to
the USA, or the rivalry between classes. With the making of these pictures,
Chaplin grew as an artist even more so than he had with the Essanay titles.
Each
and every Mutual comedy is a jewel. Included, in chronological order, are The
Floorwalker, The Fireman, The Vagabond, One A.M., The
Count, The Pawnshop, Behind the Screen, The Rink, Easy
Street, The Cure, The Immigrant, and The Adventurer.
If this reviewer had to pick three favorites from the bunch, they would be The
Rink, The Cure, and The Immigrant.
There
are two very good bonus features included: The Birth of the Tramp is an hour
long documentary by Serge Bromberg and Eric Lange about the evolution of
Chaplin’s career beginning with his humble beginnings and getting into
vaudeville; and Chaplin’s Goliath, a near-hour piece by Kevin Macdonald
on the life and career of Eric Campbell. Both of these are excellent additions
to this marvelous set.
As
for the transfers? My gosh, for films that are over 100 years old, they look
marvelous. They were restored mostly by Lobster Films and Cineteca di Bologna,
with contributions from a number of institutions around the world. Each film
comes with two musical soundtracks from which to choose—and orchestral one and
a piano one. Among the many composers and musicians to take part are Eric
Beheim, Neil Brand, Timothy Brock, Antonio Coppola, Carl Davis, Stephen Horne,
Robert Israel, the Mont Alto Motion Picture Orchestra, Maud Nelissen, Donald
Sosin, and Gabriel Thibaudeau. The enclosed booklet contains detailed
historical information and contemporary reviews/receptions of each title.
Chaplin’s
Mutual Comedies is
a must-have for cinephiles who love Chaplin, naturally, but also for anyone
with an interest in classic silent cinema. Highly recommended.
Here's a fun and informative article from Timeout that lists their choices for the world's 100 greatest cinemas. As with all such lists, the choices are subjective but it's a fun tour through traditional, historic and outright quirky movie houses around the globe. Click here to read.
I first saw the 1980 film, Union City,
on television over thirty years ago. It struck me as an odd story. Not quite
experimental, but also not quite mainstream, despite the central performance of
Deborah Harry from Blondie who it might be thought would have chosen a more
‘rock star vehicle’ for her debut starring role. I saw the film a second time
when it was released on DVD in 2006. I was freelancing for an online magazine,
and immediately requested it for review. On this occasion, now that I was
older, I picked up more of the references to decaying masculinity and greater
understood the stylised setting than I did on my first viewing. I concluded
that review by stating Quite excellent in its realisation, direction, and
character development, Union City easily pre-dates Lynch’s Blue
Velvet for brooding, oppressive paranoia, and is one hell of a must watch
movie from that period.
I feel some of this was intuition. I hadn’t
realised at the time that the producer, Monty Montgomery, had subsequently
worked as producer on Lynch’s Wild at Heart, or that he played the
cowboy in Mulholland Drive. I certainly never knew that it was the ear
of Union City’s line producer, Fred Caruso, which served as the model
for that on the lawn in Blue Velvet, nor that co-star Everett McGill, in
addition to working with Lynch on Twin Peaks, had the following quote
attributed to him: “Before Twin Peaks there was Union City”. In
fact, I also hadn’t known that script girl Kathryn Bigelow might advance to
greater successes, or that cinematographer Edward Lachman would have a long and
industrious career, or that the gaffer, Stefan Czapsky, had gone on to work
with Tim Burton, among others. What I was aware of was that Union City
was director Mark (Marcus) Reichert’s sole feature length movie, and in the
intervening years I wondered about the significance of that.
When the opportunity arose to write a book about
a film for a publisher with an imprint specialising in single movies, Union
City jumped to the forefront of my mind. Chris Stein of Blondie had written
the score, and I’d previously had interactions with him on Instagram, so I
reached out and he agreed to be interviewed. Suddenly, the ball was rolling. Other
contributors began to fall into place. Upon re-watching the film (over and
over) during the writing of my book, I’ve come to the conclusion that not only
is it a forgotten masterpiece, but that it was a catalyst for the early careers
of the cast and crew, in addition to arguably being the first neo-noir movie of
its time.
The plot is quite simple. Harlan (Dennis
Lipscomb) and Lillian (Deborah Harry) rent an apartment in a tenement block in
the eponymous city situated in the northern part of Hudson County, New Jersey.
Their lives have become stale, the marriage mundane. Harlan becomes fixated by
a ‘milk thief’ who drinks from their morning doorstep delivery. An unhealthy
obsession develops and after a convoluted ploy to wake and catch the thief he
does so. Assuming moral superiority backdropped against the impotency of his life,
Harlan attacks and accidentally kills the man. The remainder of the film
explores his paranoia and fear of being found out.
If this sounds like the plot of a simple noir
thriller then indeed it is. The film is based on The Corpse Next Door,
a short story by the crime writer Cornell Woolrich. I felt the film was ripe
for examination, and as it happened my timing was perfect. Having contacted
Chris Stein in November 2019, most of my initial interviews with the cast and
crew were conducted during 2020, when the world was in lockdown. From my tiny
terraced house in Norwich, UK, I conducted in-depth telephone conversations
with some major film industry names in Hollywood, who were at home instead of
on location and therefore had the time and inclination to chat, considering
they could do little else! Most especially, I was able to cultivate a close
friendship with Marcus Reichert (the director), which led to us talking
regularly, reading each other’s work, and providing insights I hadn’t expected.
Reichert had become completely disillusioned with the film industry following
the release of Union City (for reasons which I discuss in the book).
The writing of my book was to prove cathartic for him, enabling reconnections
with those he had been involved with during that time, and a reassessment of
that period of his life. He was very grateful for my efforts, and thankfully
was able to read and offer approval (if not always outright agreement) over the
finished draft, before he regretfully and unexpectedly passed away in 2022.
(Photo: Author Andrew Hook)
In addition to extensive interviews with
Marcus, my book includes a scene by scene run through of the film together with
chapters on film noir, colour, comedy, the hitherto unknown proposed sequels,
and writer Cornell Woolrich; plus interviews with the aforementioned Monty
Montgomery, Ed Lachman, Stefan Czapsky, Fred Caruso, Deborah Harry, Chris
Stein, and Everett McGill, and also with Irina Maleeva (actor whose career
started with Federico Fellini), and Sam McMurray (an actor now known for his US
TV work).
Union City
(the book) is a story of two halves: the film that we know and the film that we
don’t. For those who have seen the film, I feel this in-depth movie monograph
will provide many surprising insights and fresh information. For those who have
yet to watch the film, I hope my book will encourage them to seek it out. As a
precursor of neo-noir and with several of the crew latterly working with David
Lynch, it inhabits a pivotal role in cinematic history and remains – for me,
certainly – an essential watch.
Union City can be ordered worldwide by clicking here through the publisher’s website.
“Convoy
Buddies” was released in 1978 by Film Ventures International, an independent
movie production company and distributor based in Atlanta, Ga.The one-sheet poster and newspaper
advertisements for the film promised viewers a “truckin’ terrific” time with
runaway big rigs, fistfights, car crashes, shootouts, and a curvaceous blonde
in a midriff-baring shirt and denim short-shorts.Prospective ticket-buyers may have assumed
that this would be one more good-ol’-boy comedy about maverick truck drivers
and irate county sheriffs on rural backroads, like two other 1978 releases, Sam
Peckinpah’s “Convoy” and Clint Eastwood’s “Every Which Way But Loose.”
Not
so.The promotional materials for
B-movies in the 1970s were notorious for promising more than they could
possibly deliver on their dollar-and-dime budgets.Even by those slippery standards, the ads for
Convoy Buddies” were bait-and-switch on a monumental scale.“Convoy Buddies” was actually a dubbed
version of a 1975 Italian-made slapstick comedy filmed in the Mediterranean
coast, Simone e Matteo—Un gioco da ragazzi, or “Simon and Matthew: Kid Stuff.”The poster credited “Arthur Pitt” as the
director and “Terrence Hall,” “Bob Spencer,” and “Karen Blake” as the
stars.Easy to suppose, at a quick
glance, that you were going to see a picture by the celebrated Arthur Penn,
starring Terence Hill, Bud Spencer, and Karen Black.Hill and Spencer were top box-office stars in
Europe, and even now, fifty years later, they still have an enthusiastic fan
base over there.In the U.S., the duo had
name value on drive-in marquees thanks to their comedic roles in popular
Spaghetti Westerns like “Ace High” (1971), “They Call Me Trinity” (1972), and
“Trinity Is Still My Name” (1973).
In
fact, “Terrence Hall” wasn’t Terence Hill nor was “Bob Spencer” Bud
Spencer.No frisky blonde appeared in
the picture, no Karen Black, and there was only one truck to speak of (at that,
a Fiat of French manufacture), not a convoy.The stars were actually Michael Coby and Paul L. Smith, who were groomed
as Hill and Spencer lookalikes in the waning days of the Spaghetti Western—Coby
the handsome, athletic partner in the duo like Terence Hill, Smith burly and
bearded like Spencer.When the fad for
Italian Westerns faded, Hill and Spencer transitioned to modern-day action
comedies, and the team of Coby and Smith followed suit.“Convoy Buddies” was the first of three
movies featuring Coby and Smith as Toby and Butch (in the European prints,
Matteo and Simone), a pair of characters whose misadventures leave plenty of
room for slapstick chases and brawls.
To
compound the confusion of multiple names, Coby was an Italian actor, Antonio Cantafora,
who found it expedient to adopt an American-sounding screen name to further his
career, much as Hill and Spencer had done by swapping out their real names,
Mario Girotti and Carlo Pedersoli, for their screen names in the Spaghetti
Western era.In that context, “Paul L.
Smith” sounds as if it could be a made-up name too, but the actor really was
named Paul L. Smith; he was an American who later had prominent roles in
“Midnight Express” (1979), “Popeye” (1981), “Dune” (1984), and “Red Sonja”
(1985).When “Convoy Buddies” was
released and Smith saw that he was credited as “Bob Spencer,” he sued Edward L.
Montoro, the owner and director of Film Ventures International, alleging that
the distributor was legally obligated to use his real name on the film.I’d love to see a movie based on that court
case.
In
“Convoy Buddies,” petty thieves Toby and Butch assess their slim pickings from
recent shoplifting and pickpocketing.The only item worth anything is a commercial driver’s license, and even
that turns out to be a disappointment at first.When Toby attempts to sell it to one man after another in an employment
line, no one wants it.Then they’re
approached by a stranger who offers them a job driving a cargo of pesticides
from Italy to France.They accept the
gig, not realising the truck contains guns, not pesticides, for delivery to
Renard, a gangster in Marseilles.When
they reach their destination after evading a crew hired by a rival boss to
hijack the truck, Renard keeps them on the payroll to shepherd the load of guns
by ship to buyers in Dakar, North Africa.Having learned they were duped into a dangerous assignment the first
time around, Toby and Butch decide to turn the tables on Renard in the second
assignment.
“Convoy
Buddies” runs 82 minutes;the scenes
that establish and further the plot occupy about 15 minutes.In a tradition going back to Mack Sennett’s
Keystone Kops of silent-movie days, the storyline exists simply as the
framework on which director “Arthur Pitt” (actually Italian B-movie specialist Giuliano Carmineo,
another Spaghetti Western veteran) mounts a barrage of pratfalls, sight gags,
and shameless mugging by veteran Italian heavies Dominic Barto, Mario Brega,
Tony Norton, and Nello Pazzafini.The
chases proceed from the ineptitude of the bad guys pursuing Toby and Butch’s
truck, and brawls from the inevitability that when another burly character like
Brega or Pazzafini appears in the story, he and Butch will head-butt each other
until Butch’s harder skull prevails.Many of the gags rely on predictability, another basic element of farce
that probably goes back to the Stone Age.When Toby observes, as he and Butch cross over an empty railroad track,
“It’s strange we haven’t seen a train since we entered France,” you know what
will follow as sure as Moe will poke Larry and Curly in the eyes in a Three
Stooges short.As the pursuing gangsters
reach the track, their car stalls halfway across.A speeding train bears down on them, the car
is sliced in two, and they spend the rest of the chase driving the truncated
front end.In a confrontation with a
gangster wearing a patch over one eye, Toby moves so fast (thanks to an
under-cranked camera) that he repeatedly moves the patch from one of his
opponent’s eyes to the other before the gangster can respond to the
indignity.Terence Hill used a similar
routine in his Spaghetti Westerns, only there the prop was a six-gun that Hill
repeatedly drew from his opponent’s holster and repeatedly put back faster than
the other guy could move.
Many
and perhaps most fans of Hill and Spencer deride the Coby/Smith movies as
opportunistic knock-offs, but others (like me) concede that the two imitators
have their own charm.The slapstick is
likely to amuse five-year-olds and maybe even older kids and adults who laugh
at similar wackiness in the Pink Panther and Dumb and Dumber farces.These days, as politicians and social-media
influencers do their best to unsettle and infuriate us on a regular basis, a
little silly comedy feels good.Beware,
though, the movie’s bouncy tune, “On Our Way,” which plays over the opening and
closing credits and periodically over the frantic chases.Once heard, it will stick in your mind long
after you’ve forgotten the rest of the movie.
“Convoy
Buddies” streams for rent or purchase on Amazon Prime Video in a good,
widescreen print under the original Italian title, Simone e Matteo—Un gioco da ragazzi, although it appears
as “Convoy Buddies” on the Prime search engine.The voice track is the original Italian track, but English-language
subtitles are provided.As “Kid Stuff,” it
can be accessed on YouTube with ads in a slightly cropped version, also with
the Italian-language voice track, but the subtitles there are in Italian, not
English. That’s not a problem in
watching the slapstick melees, but the verbal humor (for example, when innocent
remarks by Toby and Butch are misheard as insults by guys in another passing
truck) is lost in non-translation for us viewers who don’t speak or read
Italian.
(Fred Blosser is the author of "Focus on the Spaghetti Western #1:The Films of Tony Kendall". Click here to order from Amazon.)
The recent passing of karate champion and
action movie icon Chuck Norris had me thinking back—way back—to 1982. I was
only 13-years-old and while I was watching television I saw a TV spot for a new
movie titled Silent Rage. “What the
hell is Silent Rage”, I asked myself.
Well, the commercial showed some nutcase in a silver jumpsuit running rampant,
killing everyone in sight including people who were at what looked to be a
hospital. I was already an enormous fan of both Halloween (1978), 1981’s
Halloween II (which not only featured a jumpsuit-wearing killer, but also
contained a hospital massacre) and the entire slasher movie cycle. Silent Rage seemed to be another in an
already long line of rip-offs, but if that wasn’t enough to hook me (which it
was), there was also a Frankenstein-like element and, most of all, this flick
contained none other than high-kickin’, tough-as-nails Chuck Norris! “What?”, I
screamed to no one in particular.
By this time, I was already a Norris fan. On
HBO, I had seen 1980’s The Octagon,
an exciting action film in which Norris teamed with Lee Van Cleef to stop a
group of deadly terrorists trained in the ancient style of the ninja. I also
caught 1981’s An Eye for an Eye which
culminated in a thrilling fight between Chuck and former pro wrestler Professor
Toru Tanaka. The extremely fun film had a James Bond-like feel to it, featured
Christopher Lee and Richard Roundtree, and instantly became one of my
favorites. Another fave was 1979’s A
Force of One in which Norris, acting alongside Jennifer O’Neill, Clu
Gulager and Ron O’Neal, pretty much played himself—a karate champ. The
difference here is that he helps the cops stop a drug dealing killer who is
also a skilled martial artist.
I saw Chuck’s enjoyable 1977 CB trucker flick Breaker! Breaker! (his first starring
role) on channel 11 here in New York and I vividly remember my friends and I
renting VHS copies of the political action thriller Good Guys Wear Black (1979) which Chuck considered to be his
breakthrough film (look for the amazing karate-kick-thru-car-windshield scene),
1974’s Yellow Faced Tiger aka Slaughter in San Francisco; a Hong Kong
made martial arts film with Chuck playing the lead villain, and of course, the
immortal Bruce Lee’s Way of the Dragon
(1972) in which Norris appeared as a hired killer and battled Lee at the Roman
Colosseum in the iconic finale.
Needless to say, I was not only a Norris fan,
but he was quickly becoming one of my onscreen heroes. So, by the time I saw
the Silent Rage TV spot and heard the
awesome tagline “Science created him. Now
Chuck Norris must destroy him”, I was psyched beyond belief. It didn’t
matter what else was going on in the world at the time, seeing Silent Rage was this 13-year-old’s top
priority. And yes, I loved it. It’s basically Chuck versus Michael Myers. Is it
great? No. But it’s a hell of a lot of fun and I still enjoy it to this day (even
though Chuck wasn’t a huge fan of it). But this was the film (along with A Force of One and An Eye for an Eye) that really made me realize how much I loved
Chuck Norris movies. That same year, Norris showed up in the martial arts
thriller Forced Vengeance for MGM,
and in 1983 he starred in Lone Wolf
McQuade, a sort of spaghetti western/karate film in which he battles David
Carradine of Kung Fu fame. I remember
the excitement at the time because we all couldn’t wait to see which martial
arts master would win. (Carradine played the villain so it wasn’t difficult to
figure out, but we were young.) This was also the first time Chuck sported a
beard, something which would pretty much become his trademark from then on.
Born Carlos Ray Norris in Oklahoma in 1940,
Chuck served in the United States Air Force and held black belts in Karate,
Judo, Taekwondo, Tang Soo Do and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. He later became a martial
arts teacher and instructed several high profile celebrities including the
great Steve McQueen. It was McQueen who advised him to seriously get into
acting and up until Lone Wolf McQuade,
Norris’ movies had relied heavily on his karate expertise. However, he really
wanted to move into pure action films and leave his roots behind. He never
truly did as all of his later movies feature him doing some sort of martial
art. However, this was toned down quite a bit and action became more prominent.
In 1984, Norris signed a multiple picture
deal with Cannon Films. He would eventually make ten movies with Cannon, the
first being the Rambo-esque Missing in Action. This film, which
sees Chuck as Colonel James Braddock heading back to Vietnam in order to rescue
American POWs was the beginning of the martial arts champion-turned actor
moving more into pure action movie territory. Chuck made two sequels, one in
1985 and the other in 1988, and he dedicated the series to his younger brother
Wieland who was tragically killed in 1970 while serving in Vietnam.
If there is one film which can be pointed to
as changing the game for Norris’ career it would have to be the 1985 action
thriller Code of Silence. Directed by
Andrew Davis, Code was originally
written as a Dirty Harry sequel. When
Clint Eastwood and Warner Bros. passed on it (and made the third sequel titled Sudden Impact), the script was offered
to many top stars of the day until finally reaching Norris. Not only was Code of Silence a very well done and
gritty action/cop picture, it is considered Chuck’s best film. He was very
proud of it and once said that it legitimized his career and helped him to
reach a broader audience.
From this point on, Norris would become an
action icon and he stood tall with the likes of Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sylvester
Stallone, Clint Eastwood, Charles Bronson and Bruce Lee. Like those similar
action movie giants, he knew why audiences wanted to see him and he rarely
deviated from playing the hero. Like Arnold, Chuck regularly promoted the
benefits of physical fitness. And just like Bruce Lee, when it came to martial
arts skill, Norris was the real deal.
Throughout the rest of his amazing career, he
would continue to star in a slew of action films including Invasion U.S.A. (1985), The
Delta Force (1986), and Hero and the
Terror (1988). Just to name a few. (Several of his later films were
directed by his talented brother Aaron Norris.) In addition to this, Norris was
featured in a 1986 animated show titled
Karate Kommandos, and also appeared in comic books and video games. In
1993, Chuck became a television star, headlining the popular series Walker, Texas Ranger (which was
inspired by his film Lone Wolf McQuade).
It ran for nine seasons on CBS. He also became a best-selling author of many
books including martial art and self-help books as well as being the
spokesperson for Total Gym fitness equipment. In 2005, a seemingly endless
supply of hysterical internet memes were created which hilariously exaggerated
his tough guy persona. Norris also created two martial art systems: American
Tang Soo Do and the Chuck Norris System. Last, but certainly not least, he was
a great philanthropist who promoted and supported several important causes
including many for children.
I considered Norris a hero for many reasons.
Yes, his movies were extremely entertaining and yes, he almost always played
the hero which I loved, but also, off-screen, I heard wonderful things such as
him not accepting certain negative roles because he was always thinking about
the young fans who looked up to him. And again, his selfless philanthropy;
especially to help children and his promotion of health and fitness. I never
met the man himself, but I knew a few people who had and they all said the same
thing; Chuck Norris was a kind gentleman. I have heard that some of his
political beliefs were a bit controversial, but to be honest I never really
knew much about that. What I have heard, I can’t say I agree with, but that
isn’t the reason for this article. It’s for the reasons I just mentioned that I
considered Chuck Norris a hero and that’s why I wanted to pay tribute to him.
He may be gone, but he will never be forgotten. Norris will live on in his
entertaining work, in the many people he inspired, and in his five children and
thirteen grandchildren. Rest in peace.
Cinema Retro has received the following press release from Cult Epics.
Cult Epics presents Tinto Brass’S first erotic film
THE KEY
World Premiere
on 4K UHD+Blu-ray
+ North American premiere on Blu-ray
March 24th, 2026
Los Angeles, CA
(March, 2026)
Cult Epics presents the World premiere 4K UHD release of
Tinto Brass, THE
KEY, the erotic
arthouse classic, completely newly restored on 4K UHD+Blu-ray March 24th, 2026.
Synopsis
Art professor Nino (Frank
Finlay) feels he can no longer satisfy his younger, passionate wife Teresa
(Stefania Sandrelli) the way she desires. He articulates his innermost
thoughts and sexual fantasies in a diary, including the secret wish to see his
daughter’s fiancé’s Laszlo (Franco Branciaroli) make love to Teresa.
Nino leaves the key to the drawer, containing the diary, out for his wife to
find.
The Key is based on the Japanese
novel by Junichiro Tanizaki, but set in Venice, in the year 1940 during
World War II. The Key is Tinto Brass’ his erotic
masterpiece featuring a seductive score by Ennio Morricone. This is regarded
worldwide as one of the best erotic arthouse movies ever made.
THE KEY 4K
UHD+Blu-ray / Blu-ray
Price: $49.95 / $34.95
Street Date:
March 24, 2026
Production
Year:1983
Country:Italy
Video run
time: Approx. 112
Mins
Language:English &
Italian language w/optional English subtitles
Aspect
Ratio:1.66:1
Audio:DTS-HD MA
2.0 Mono
Label:Cult
Epics
Distributor:MVD Entertainment
Group
Blu-ray/DVD Cat.no.CE234 / CE235
BD/DVD UP881190023495 / 881190023594
Rating: Not Rated
Region:Free
SPECIAL FEATURES
4K Transfer (from the original
camera negative & Restoration + HDR
Audio Commentary by film
historians Eugenio Ercolani & Marcus Stiglegger
Brass’ Talisman - An Interview
with actor Franco Branciaroli
Keyhole Venice - A look at the
Venetian locations of the film
Sensuous Morricone - A special
on Ennio Morricone and Tinto Brass
Isolated Score by Ennio
Morricone
Archival Interview with Tinto
Brass (2001)
Outtakes of The Key: Venice
The Key Poster Gallery
Tinto Brass Photo Gallery
Tinto Brass 4K Trailers
Includes:
Slipcase
Reversible Sleeve w/Original
Italian Poster Art
20-Page illustrated Booklet
w/Essay by Eugenio Ercolani
The
“Imprint” imprint of Australia’s ViaVision company is rapidly becoming a major
player in home video releases in Europe and America, seeing that most of their
releases are region free. They’re pricey, especially with shipping costs added
on, but for connoisseurs of Blu-ray titles that might be hard to get in the
West, Imprint is totally worth it.
The
company has lately been releasing Alfred Hitchcock box sets, including a
now-rare out of print Hitchcock Nine set of his British silent pictures
(including the first-time Blu-ray release of The Pleasure Garden,
Hitch’s first film)… but good luck finding that second-hand for a decent price.
Front
and center here is The Early Years, Volume 2, a lovely package that
contains four of the filmmaker’s upper tier movies, three of which are easily some
of the best of his British titles.
First
up: Sabotage (1936), a welcome release since it has not appeared on
Blu-ray in the USA. It’s a suspenseful tale of a saboteur (Oscar Homolka) in
London who is working for an unnamed European power. Tragedy occurs when a bomb
he is supposed to deliver gets in the hands of the younger brother of his wife
(Sylvia Sidney). While some consider the picture flawed due to the shocking
death of a child, it’s actually a realistically contemporary scenario when one
considers when the film was originally released.
Next:
Young and Innocent (1937), again most welcome in America, where the
title has never been released on Blu-ray. Another engaging murder
mystery-thriller in which a young man (Derrick De Marney) discovers a dead
woman on a beach and runs to get help—but he is seen and mistakenly suspected
of being the killer. The daughter of the village police chief (Nova Pilbeam)
unwittingly takes a liking to him and deep down believes his innocence. She
aids his escape and search for the real killer. The film is fast moving and
exciting, and save for an unfortunate scene in which white musicians perform in
blackface (but remember, this was Britain in 1937!), the picture definitely
falls in the “underrated Hitchcock” list.
Third:
The Lady Vanishes (1938), one of the Master of Suspense’s greatest
works. It was Vanishes that convinced producer David O. Selznick to
bring Hitchcock to Hollywood. A kind old lady (Dame May Whitty) disappears
during a long train journey and a young woman who befriended her (Margaret
Lockwood) is the only person on board to believes the lady was even there.
Eventually she convinces a musician (Michael Redgrave) that something is afoot…
and of course the plot turns into one of the most engaging spy stories
Hitchcock ever made. Also with Paul
Lukas, Cecil Parker, and what became the popular duo of “Charters and
Caldicott” (Basil Radford and Naunton Wayne, respectively). Great fun, terrific
storytelling.
Fourth:
Oddly, the set skips over two movies to Hitch’s second Hollywood picture, Foreign
Correspondent (1940), another title that is easily one of the director’s
better American films in the 40s. In fact, it was nominated for the Oscar Best
Picture in competition with Hitch’s own Rebecca (which won). Frankly,
this reviewer prefers Correspondent! James Bond author Ian Fleming
reportedly was a fan of this picture, likely because the plot involves a
journalist (American actor Joel McCrea) on assignment in Europe covering the
“winds of war” that are brewing… and wouldn’t you know it? He uncovers a
dastardly spy plot of the Nazi enemies. A prescient motion picture for its
time. Also starring Laraine Day as the love interest, Herbert Marshall, George
Sanders, and Albert Basserman, who was nominated for a Supporting Actor Oscar. Contains
the classic “sea of black umbrellas in the rain” sequence!
One
of the key ingredients in Hitchcock’s films (and it’s true here of title 2, 3,
and 4) is that without the crime or thriller plot, we would be left with a
screwball comedy starring a mismatched couple. The two leads in the latter
three films bicker, fight, and fall in love just like the screwball comedy heroes
and heroines by Capra, Hawks, and others (and this is true of such Hitch films
as The 39 Steps, Saboteur, Spellbound, and more.). Thus,
mixed in with the suspense and chills are comedy and romance. A winning
formula.
The
transfers of these four titles are about as good as you can get. (Should you
get rid of your Criterion Blu-ray disks of Vanishes and Correspondent?—Well,
there are completely different supplements, for the most part, on those disks…
but the image quality is just as exquisite.)
The
supplements abound on each disk, a virtual cornucopia of material that will
take hours to get through. Three films sport one or two audio commentaries:
Sabotage: 1) by writers and
film experts Kim Newman and Barry Forshaw (recorded 2025) that delve into the
very Britishness of the picture; 2) by author/film scholar Leonard Leff, who
presents a more accessible track in terms of film history.
Young
and Innocent:
1) by writers and film experts Kim Newman and Jo Botting (recorded 2025) which
takes on many aspects and background of the picture; 2) by authors Steve
Rebello and Bill Krohn, who provide an American viewpoint on the proceedings.
The
Lady Vanishes:
by professor and film scholar Jason Ney (recorded 2025), which is just as
thorough as any existing commentary for this title.
Besides
the commentaries, the supplements number up to seven or eight features
and featurettes on each disk, too many to list and describe here… But one very
welcome supplement on The Lady Vanishes disk is Hitch’s complete 1934
film Waltzes from Vienna (in standard definition), which is unavailable
in the United States in any form. There are some supplements that are
port-overs from previous releases by other labels, such as the 1944 radio
adaptation of Foreign Correspondent starring Joseph Cotten, but most are
newly created pieces featuring learned film historians talking about each
picture, style montage studies, documentaries, image galleries, trailers, and
more.
Alfred
Hitchcock: The Early Years, Volume 2 is a must-have for collectors of the master’s
movies—these are top-notch high definition transfers with a trove of extras.
Recommended.
Note: Much of this review was written
for an earlier Kino Lorber release of the film and posted here in 2019. A new
2-disk set has just been issued from Kino Lorber with one 4K/UHD disk, and the
second disk the original Blu-ray transfer from 2019 plus supplements. This
review refers to the Blu-ray disk.
One of the most acclaimed films from
France in the late 1930s was Port of Shadows (Le quai des brumes), which
was among Marcel Carné’s earliest pictures (he is probably best known to
Western audiences for his 1945 masterpiece, Children of Paradise). Port
was the recipient of the Prix Louis-Delluc, then the equivalent of the
“Best Picture” award in its native country.
The film stars the great Jean Gabin in
a quintessential role as Jean, an army deserter who wanders penniless into the
port city of Le Havre and soon becomes entangled in a conflict between a
beautiful young woman, Nelly (the luminous Michèle Morgan), a group of petty gangsters,
and Nelly’s creepy guardian, Zabel (Michel Simon). Zabel wants to sleep with Nelly,
who finds her godfather disgusting, the gangsters want to kill Zabel for some offence
he has committed, and Jean just wants peace and quiet and a meal. Nevertheless,
Jean and Nelly quickly fall in love. Much angst is displayed, the gangsters
frame Jean for a murder, and our central characters find themselves in an
existential crisis.
The picture is billed as a “crime
drama,” although in truth it’s more of a melodrama with some shady characters
on the periphery who are up to no good. The main focus is on the burgeoning
relationship between Jean and Nelly, and apparently this was hot stuff in 1938.
The French censors ended up chopping up the movie—especially the sequence in
which Jean and Nelly spend the night in a hotel room (shocking!)—and it wasn’t
restored to its original form until years later. Some critics have called Port
of Shadows an early film noir, but again, the romance takes too much
of a center stage in the story for the picture to be thus labeled.
Carné’s direction of Jacques Prévert’s
script (based on Pierre Mac Orlan’s novel) is in the style of what was called
“poetic realism,” in that the proceedings are not quite as naturalistic as what
was achieved later with Italian Neo-Realism, but the soft focus, the moody night
scenes, and the fog that envelopes the port city combine to create an
impressionistic, painterly pragmatism that is indeed realistic, but lyrical as
well. It’s good stuff, especially the tangible chemistry between Gabin and
Morgan.
Kino Lorber Classics presents a
restored 1920x1080p transfer that looks exquisite. It’s in French, of course,
with optional English subtitles. There is a new audio commentary (which was not
on the earlier release) by film critic and author Simon Abrams, who talks very,
very fast! He piles tons of information about the pre-production and history of
the film just in the first five minutes of commentary. That said, Abrams
provides an insightful exploration into French the poetic realism movement and
the title’s place in French cinema history. Supplements are the same from the
previous release: a video introduction by professor and film critic Ginette
Vincendeau; a substantial documentary of the film’s making, On the Port of
the Shadows; and the theatrical trailer.
Devotees of French cinema and film
history will want to pick up this one. It’s also not a bad date movie.
In
the early 1990s, director/actor Kenneth Branagh was on a roll. Coming off the
spectacular success of Henry V (1989), Branagh tried something
completely different for his next film, a neo-noir murder mystery called
Dead Again. An original script written by Scott Frank, the story deals
with a murder that took place in the past, and how it is somehow destined to be
repeated within the souls of entirely different people in the present day (in
1991, that is).
The
picture stars Branagh and (then) wife Emma Thompson, the cast includes Andy
Garcia, Derek Jacobi, Hanna Schygulla, Wayne Knight, and Robin Williams, and it
was shot in Hollywood for Paramount.
Dead
Again was
a modest success with decent critical reviews. The biggest thing it had going
for it was Emma Thompson, who, like Branagh, was just becoming known to cinema
audiences. While Thompson was also in Henry V, it was the new movie that
catapulted her into something of a breakthrough (and the following year she
would receive an Oscar for Howards End).
In
the late 1940s, a composer named Roman Strauss (played by Branagh) was
convicted of murdering his wife, Margaret (played by Thompson). Years later, in
the present, private detective Mike Church (also Branagh) is investigating a
case of a woman who mysteriously appears at an orphanage with no memory of who
she is and where she came from (also Thompson). Church sets out to solve this
mystery, unwittingly ending up with the woman (whom he calls “Grace” for the
heck of it) staying with him at his home. Of course, they fall in love. A hypnotist
and antiques dealer, Franklyn Madson (Jacobi), a disenfranchised psychiatrist, Cozy
Carlisle (Williams), and a reporter/photographer, Pete (Knight), all pitch in
to help solve the puzzle. Through hypnotism, Madson figures out that “Grace” is
channeling the Strauss murder and that her identity is somehow tied in with
that situation. With clues provided by the three helpers plus Baker (Garcia), a
reporter from the Strauss era who is still alive, Inga (Schygulla), the Strauss’
old housekeeper, and the hypnotism “flashbacks” that go into the lives of the
Strauss couple, Church learns the truth about the murder and Grace’s identity.
Well,
gee. It’s all pretty fanciful, isn’t it? For a neo-noir crime drama,
complete with black and white sequences illustrating the past events, one would
think that the drama would end up being not about reincarnation after
all, as a twist to what’s going on. But metaphysics do play a big role in the
plot and the audience is expected to happily go along with it. Is it
believable? Hardly. Especially when one considers the true “twist” of the
reincarnation roles in the story (it has to do with gender swapping, an even
more preposterous notion).
And
yet, Branagh’s handling of the material serves to the audience a platter of
high melodrama and entertaining nonsense. Most of the actors are all-in and
deliver fine performances. Emma Thompson is radiant, she steals every scene
she’s in. The character of Mike Church is, unfortunately, a fast-talking,
rather annoying fellow, and Branagh pushes this intensity past the limit at
times… But perhaps this fits with the heightened tone of the entire piece,
which you either accept or don’t.
Kino
Lorber presents a beautifully rendered high definition Blu-ray disk with
optional English subtitles. There are two weighty audio commentaries. The first,
more in-depth one, is by Branagh himself. He goes into many of the technical
challenges in making the film as well as how the thing was developed and
executed. In one sequence, for example, he points out the back and forth
cutting between a location exterior set and an interior studio set that created
one scene. The other commentary is by producer Lindsay Doran and screenwriter
Scott Frank, who together go into the various aspects of making the movie, Frank’s
storyline, and Doran’s dealing with the production and actors. All good stuff.
The theatrical trailer for this and other Kino Lorber titles round out the
disk.
Dead
Again is
for fans of Kenneth Branagh, Emma Thompson, the others in the cast, murder
mysteries, neo-noir, and speculative tales of “past lives.”
I
first saw the original 1933 King Kong sometime in the late 1960s or
early 1970s, when I was around 7 or 8. I watched it with my Dad on New York’s
WOR Channel 9, the Tri-State area’s home for classic monster movies. My Dad had seen King Kong for the first time when he was a young teen, during it's 1942 re-release on a double bill with Gunga Din. He had loved it and had a hunch I would
love it as well. His hunch was correct -- I was captivated by the film: by its
mythic story, its eerie black & white atmosphere, it’s stunning visual
effects, its powerful score, its dinosaurs, and by the massive, powerful,
terrifying, and ultimately tragic figure of Kong himself. After that first
viewing, I rewatched the film every time it was on, including every Thanksgiving
when WOR would broadcast it on a triple bill with The Son of Kong and Mighty
Joe Young.
The
early 1970s was a great time to be a Kong fan. In addition to its frequent
television showings, the original film had become a staple in revival theaters,
many of which screened a version featuring scenes that had been censored prior
to the 1938 re-release and only recently restored. The two Japanese Kong films
of the 1960s – King Kong Vs. Godzilla (1962) and King Kong Escapes
(1967) – were in heavy rotation on local television stations, as were reruns of
the 1960s Saturday morning cartoon series The King Kong Show. There was
a great deal of Kong merchandise in stores: toys, games, posters, record
albums, and most prominently, two model kits produced by the Aurora Plastics
Corporation. The giant gorilla was also featured in numerous print and
television advertisements and was a prominent subject in two books aimed at
young readers -- Thomas G. Aylesworth’s Monsters of the Movies and
Favius Friedman’s Great Horror Movies. Early 1975 saw the publication of
The Making of King Kong, George E. Turner and Orville Goldner’s
excellent, essential tome about the production of the original picture. I was
there and in for all of it.
Kongmania,
the world’s and mine, went into overdrive at the end of 1975, when both
Universal Pictures and producer Dino De Laurentiis announced they had secured
the rights to remake King Kong from RKO, the studio that produced the
original. These dual announcements marked the beginning of a protracted legal
battle that De Laurentiis would ultimately win. His movie began shooting in
January 1976 and I followed every step of the film’s production with great interest
and enthusiasm. On opening day – December 17, 1976 – I was first in line at the
Ridgeway Theater in Stamford, CT and, after waiting for many hours in the
freezing cold, was finally able to see the movie I had been eagerly
anticipating for almost a year. I wasn’t disappointed – then and now I consider
the De Laurentiis King Kong to be a worthy companion piece to the
original and a movie that added a great deal to the Kong mythos.
Kongmania
settled down after that, but I never lost my interest in the big ape. Years
later, when I was working at Paramount, I met some folks who worked on the 1976
version and they told me some things about the making of that film I hadn’t
heard before. That gave me the idea to write an in-depth book on the production
(there has been a paperback “making of”published at the time of the film’s release, but it was far from
comprehensive). To that end, I began interviewing the makers of Kong 76,
starting with screenwriter Lorenzo Semple, Jr. and continuing with
cinematographer Richard H. Kline (who became a good friend), star Jeff Bridges,
and Kong co-creator and performer Rick Baker, among many others. As I worked on
the project, I realized it was impossible to write about any one Kong movie
without putting it into the context of the overall history of the character and
so I eventually decided to expanded my concept to encompass the entire Kong
phenomenon – to do a book on all of the films, publications, tv shows, and
merchandise, as well as the character’s place in and influence on the pop
culture firmament.
At
this point – the early 2000s -- the project was hobby: I was conducting
interviews and compiling the research in my spare time, intending to actually
write the book and look for a publisher “someday.” The 2004 announcement that Peter Jackson was going to
produce another remake of King Kong turned “someday” into “right now!” The
coming of Jackson’s film created a great interest in publishers for books on
the Eighth Wonder and, aware of my project, an author friend referred me to
agent June Clark, who made a deal with Applause Theatre & Film Books for me
to write my book. The deal was made at the end of 2004 and the only catch was
the manuscript had to be completed by the end of April 2005, so the book could
be put through the production process in time for it to reach the marketplace concurrent
with the release of Jackson’s film in December 2005. This meant I only had five
months to pen an extensive account of Kong’s (then) 73-year, six-film history.
It was an intensive effort, during which I worked pretty much around-the-clock,
surviving on junk food and very little sleep as I continued to do research,
conduct interviews and wrote, wrote, wrote. I got the job done and the book
came out at the end of November 2005. It was well-received by critics and
readers, for which I was and remain profoundly grateful.
The
Flesh & Blood Show has been described, not unreasonably,
as a “proto-slasher” or lurid horror film.But, at its heart, director Pete Walker’s opus is primarily a serial-murder
mystery with dashes of blood.Truthfully, The Flesh & Blood
Show in some ways mimics a Scooby Doo
mystery – minus the explicit female nudity, of course.The identity of the murderer, once unmasked,
is revealed through a calculated entrapment by the same young folks targeted as
potential victims… ala the aforementioned Mystery
Machine gang.
The scenario is this: a contingent of actors and theatre techs
are mysteriously summoned to the aged Dome Theatre.The Dome is a once historic, now rundown and
long closed, venue sitting on the far end of a pier in the seaside resort town
of East Cliff, England.An organization
named “Theater Group 40” have invited the troupe – mostly young talent unfamiliar
to each other – to band together for a proposed stage production titled “The
Flesh & Blood Show.”“Theatre Group
40” promises the program will enjoy an eventual residency on London’s West
End.Upon the arrival of the
shaggy-haired talent, stage manager Mike Archer (Ray Brooks) greets the hopefuls
with the prescient declaration, “Welcome to the Morgue.”Among those late to arrive is the lovely
Julia Dawson (Jenny Hadley).
Arriving, the cast discovers there’s no empty hotel beds
in East Cliff to board at.(This is certainly
improbable as its desolate mid-winter and East Cliff is supposedly a summer
resort). In any case, it’s decided everybody in this randy, promiscuous group
will simply “shack down in the theatre.”As far as I can tell, no one gets much sleep.The cast’s days and nights are filled to the
brim with rehearsals, sexual encounters, petty jealousies, police involvements,
gruesome murders, suspicions, accusations and investigations.The cast makes little contact with anyone
outside of their circle.The one exception
is the aged (if somewhat pervy) Major Bell (Patrick Barr).Bell, we learn, was once a star of Othello, Shakespeare’s famous play of
tragedy, jealousy and unfaithfulness – all themes revisited in The Flesh & Blood Show.
It’s not long before the ensemble’s rehearsals are
hampered when members go missing or are found dead.There’s someone – or something – lurking in
the cramped passageways under the old stage.It’s a creepy corridor, for sure.Along with the sounds of screams in the night, there’s a working guillotine,
waxwork figures, a couple of tethered human skeletons and an assortment of other
macabre theatrical oddities warehoused in the shadows.As colleagues start disappearing or are found
murdered, the troupe needs to sort out, as if their lives depended on it, who are
the producers behind the mysterious – and still absent - “Theater Group 40?”
So that’s the set-up.As Pete Walker was very much an outlier in the British film industry,
there’s not a lot of production data or trade notices on this evolving production.There was a decision to shoot a portion of
the film in 3D, an optical novelty that had become somewhat passé by 1972.Actually, due to the expense of shooting in
that process, only the last ten or so minutes of The Flesh & Blood Show were photographed in 3-D. Those
sequences, to be totally honest, are neither memorable nor inventive in
execution.
Walker later admitted the 3-D ending was simply a gimmick:
one largely missed even by those attending the screenings.As most of the film was not shot in 3D,
audiences tended to forget the 3-D glasses they were given upon entry were necessary
to watch the film’s final minutes.When The Flesh & Blood Show hurtled to its
dramatic climax, attendees scrambled in the dark trying to recall where they
put their specs.Walker conceded the use
of 3-D was simply an exploitative device to bring people into the cinema.But with the British film industry in crisis
in the early 1970s - and not terribly encouraging or supportive of such mavericks
as Walker - one did what one had to do to put bums in seats.
In a 2014 accompanying twelve-minute on-screen
reminiscence – Flesh, Blood and
Censorship: an interview with Pete Walker, the producer-director offers to
Elijah Drenner he was mostly disinterested in the Gothic costumed horrors of
Hammer Films.He was more interested in
producing “contemporary thrillers” or “terror films,” pictures that featured scenes
of explicit violence and nudity well-beyond that offered by Hammer’s bloodletting
and cleavaged lovelies.(I should also mention
here that Walker’s interview on this Kino Cult release is not new.It has been ported over from the Redemption’s
Blu-ray release of March 18, 2014).
As the film was created mostly for a UK market, Walker
admitted to being purposeful in his interest to “rattle cages” of the British
Board of Film Censors.He was successful
in that desire.The film was allotted an
X-Certificate, allowing no patrons under the age of eighteen to be admitted.Fair enough, but while the film does feature moments
of on-screen violence, it’s really the endless parade of on-screen female
nudity that one can’t help notice… and one doesn’t need to wait long for this
particular parade to start rolling.
Within the pic’s first few minutes a woman crawls from
the bed she shares with another buxom lovely.She’s not restless, but has chosen to answer, completely nude, a
late-night call at her apartment door.Perhaps the film’s budget didn’t allow for a robe or pajamas.I can’t say.But given Walker’s past history of producing sexploitation-comedies, one
assumes this nude portal greeting was completely intentional.There is no shortage of bums and breasts on
display in The Flesh & Blood Show.The indiscriminate hook-ups and fondling’s
are both hetero and lesbian.In his
sit-down with Drenner, Walker admits The
Flesh & Blood Show perhaps offered “too much sex content,” but “the way
it was in ’72.” Perhaps.I was only
nine-years-old in 1972 so I’ll have to take his word for it… but, boy, what a
time that must have been.
It’s of interest that in the two additional “Special
Features,” two members of the cast recall their uneasiness with the film’s nude
sequences.Actress Jenny Hanley recalls
telling Walker prior to signing on she was not willing to do any nude or
semi-nude scenes.She was steadfast in
this demand, having earlier told Bond producer Harry Saltzman - during the casting
of On Her Majesty’s Secret Service -
“I want to be an actress.I don’t want
to be a stripper.”So she admitted to feeling “betrayed” by Walker.
As she watched The
Flesh and Blood Show for the first at a local theatre, she discovered he
had had inserted shots of a body-double during her undressing scene, the
stand-in’s bottom and boobs freely on display.Hanley was so upset that she chose to take the matter up with Equity,
demanding the filmmakers add a “Julia Dawson” “body double” notice to the
film’s credit roll. (I doubt such a suffix was ever affixed.The film boasts no end credits).As for the film itself, Hanley thought the
film had a “cheap” sheen despite the good cast assembled.The actress also wasn’t thrilled with the film’s
moniker, thinking a less exploitative title might have allowed the pic to be treated
with a modicum of respect.
In a separate interview of 2018, actor Stewart Bevan (“Harry
Mulligan”) also made note of his uneasiness of the nudity on set. As he had
been tasked to appear in the buff astride an equally nude actress, he suffered
from both nervousness and the frigid cold.As the film was shot in mid-winter, the actor mostly recalled standing naked
in the chilly temps, watching the sea rage beneath him via separated
floorboards of the stage.He found these
purposeful titillating inserted moments – at least as staged – to be both
“unsensual” and “unsexy.”A few years
later Bevan would work again with Walker on The
Confessional (1976), the director’s controversial Catholic slasher film.Bevan recalls his pondering why Walker had
chosen to kill him off in two separate films set years apart.He hoped it was nothing personal.
The following press release pertains to the forthcoming release of "Zulu Dawn" on 4K UHD format. This is a Region Free edition.
Screen legends Burt Lancaster
(GUNFIGHT AT THE O.K. CORRAL), Peter O’Toole (LAWRENCE OF ARABIA), Simon
Ward (THE THREE MUSKETEERS) and Bob Hoskins (THE LONG GOOD FRIDAY)
lead an all-star cast in this “fascinating and awesome” (DVD Talk)
prequel to the 1964 classic ZULU.
In January 1879, officials of the
British colony of Natal, Africa issued a list of ultimatums to the Zulu Nation.
When the Zulu King refused, the Empire declared war. And in a series of grave
tactical blunders, a garrison of 1,500 British soldiers faced 25,000 enraged
Zulu warriors in what would become the most horrific disaster in British
military history.
Nigel Davenport (CHARIOTS OF FIRE), Denholm Elliott (RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK) and
Simon Sabela (SHAKA ZULU) co-star in this “eye-filling, spectacular
experience” (Mondo Digital), directed by Douglas Hickox (THEATRE
OF BLOOD) from a screenplay by ZULU writer/director Cy Endfield, now
scanned in 4K from the interpositive with 6+ hours of new and archival Special
Features, plus an exclusive 100 page book, poster and art cards.
SPECIAL FEATURES
· EXCLUSIVE: 100-Page Collectors Book With New Articles By Ian Knight And Film
Historian Simon Lewis
· EXCLUSIVE: 6 Collectors’ Art Cards
· EXCLUSIVE: Double-Sided Poster
DISC 1: 4K UHD - ORIGINAL THEATRICAL VERSION (118 mins)
· Audio Commentary With Anglo-Zulu War Historian Ian
Knight And Film Historian Simon Lewis
· Theatrical Trailer
DISC 2: BLU-RAY – ORIGINAL THEATRICAL VERSION (118 mins)
· Audio Commentary With Anglo-Zulu War Historian Ian
Knight And Film Historian Simon Lewis
· War Cry of the Zulu – The Making Of ZULU DAWN, A Feature-Length Documentary Narrated By Dai Bradley
Featuring Producer Nate Kohn, Co-Producer & Actor James Faulkner And Many
More
· Trailblazer: The Simon Sabela Story – A Documentary On The South African Actor/Director
· The Saga Of Bob’s Last Stands – Bob Hoskins’ Death Scene
· The Scene That Never Was – The Eclipse At Isandlwana
· Theatrical Trailer
DISC 3: BLU-RAY – U.S. THEATRICAL VERSION (98 mins)
· The Symbol Of Sacrifice (1918) – The 1997 Reconstruction Of The Historical
South African Film
· Saviour Of The Symbol Of Sacrifice – Interview With Mayer Levy, producer of the
restoration of The Symbol of Sacrifice
· The History Of The Zulu Wars – Featurette With Zulu Rising Author Ian Knight
· Recreating The War – Interview With Historical Advisor Midge Carter
· A Visit To The Battlefield – Author Ian Knight Visits The Location Of The Battle
Of Isandlwana
Here is another gem from "The Ed Sullivan Show", Richard Harris as King Arthur singing "Camelot" in 1968, a year after he played the role in the big screen version.
“He’s
the ultimate killer! She’s the perfect weapon!”
Cannon Films’ (and Sho Kosugi’s) classic
ninja trilogy—which began with 1981’s
Enter the Ninja and continued with 1983’s Revenge of the Ninja—concludes with the 1984 cult hit Ninja III: The Domination; a unique
action film which has just been released to 4K Blu-ray.
Written by James R. Silke, and directed by
Sam Firstenberg (who had previously helmed Sho’s wildly entertaining 1983 hit Revenge of the Ninja), Ninja III finds our hero—aerobics
instructor and telephone repair woman Christie Ryder (played by Lucinda Dickey)—possessed
by the spirit of an evil ninja named Hanjuro (David Chung) who uses
Christie’s body to brutally murder the police officers who killed him. Told by
Japanese exorcist Miyashima (James Hong) that only a ninja can kill a ninja,
Christie contacts Goro Yamada (Sho Kosugi), a ninja master who seeks revenge
against Hanjuro for destroying his clan.
Released in September of 1984 by Cannon Film
Distributors, Ninja III: The Domination
is a very enjoyable piece of crazy action cinema. The insane (in a good way)
script combines the action/martial arts genre with horror and a bit of Flashdance as well. Director
Firstenberg expertly handles the movie’s exciting action sequences and the cast
is top-notch also. The standout is Lucinda Dickey. A professional dancer and
actor, Dickey does well as Christie, but she’s the most fun to watch when she
is possessed by the evil spirit of the angry Hanjuro. Naturally, the other
highlight is martial arts champion and action movie icon Sho Kosugi who has an
epic battle when Hanjuro’s spirit leaves Christie’s body and possesses his own
dead corpse!
Ninja III: The
Domination has
been released on a region one Blu-ray and a region free 4K disc. The film is
presented in its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio. The movie looks and sounds
fantastic and the special features (which are ported over from previous
releases) include a wonderful audio commentary by Director Sam Firstenberg and
Stunt Coordinator Steven Lambert which is moderated by Robert Galluzo as well
as Isolated Score Selections and Audio Interviews with Composer Misha Segal and
Production Designer Elliot Elentuck. The remaining features, which only appear
on the Blu-ray disc, are three informative featurettes: Dancing with Death: Interview
with Actress Lucinda Dickey, Secord’s Struggle: Interview with Actor Jordan
Bennett, and Birth of the Ninja: Interview with Producer and Stuntman Alan
Amiel. The Blu-ray also comes with the original Theatrical Trailer. Great
collection for this explosive, charming and super fun 80s classic. More than
worth a look.
Although you can purchase all three
4K/Blu-rays of Cannon’s Ninja Trilogy separately, Kino Lorber has also released
them together in a very nice-looking and affordable box set.
Click here to order the single film 4K from Amazon.
The 1960s was undoubtedly the last decade in which Hollywood studios counted on big budget musicals shown in roadshow presentations to bring in impressive boxoffice receipts. The heyday for the genre arguably culminated in the smashing success of the 1965 screen version of "The Sound of Music", which was the highest grossing film ever until finally displaced a decade later by "Jaws". By the late 1960s the genre was showing signs of wear. Big budget musicals such as "Camelot", "Paint Your Wagon", "Sweet Charity", "On a Clear Day You Can See Forever" and "Hello, Dolly!" may have been good films but they either under-performed or were outright flops. Why? Probably because audience's tastes were changing. Hollywood was slow to get on board with the youth revolution that had been embraced immediately by the music industry. Suddenly, Elvis Presley and Frankie and Annette beach musicals were going the way of the dodo bird. While the Woodstock generation was grooving to the likes of Jimi Hendrix, The Rolling Stones and The Doors, the studios, which were being headed by the legendary moguls who had presided over them for decades, were still intent on wooing older moviegoers into theaters with musicals, hoping to create another "My Fair Lady" or "The Sound of Music" sensation. Sometimes the strategy did work. "Funny Girl" was a big hit and won Barbara Streisand an Oscar and director Carol Reed's "Oliver!" went against the grain and was not only a major Oscar winner (including Best Picture) but also proved to be a boxoffice hit as well.
Why did "Oliver!" succeed when many other stage musicals with the same pedigree failed to resonate with audiences as movies? Perhaps because the classic Dickens tale of lovable waif trying to survive in the hardscrabble world of 18th century London had a biting realism to it that most musicals lacked. On the assumption that virtually everyone reading this knows the basics of the tale, I'll refrain from going into great detail. Suffice it to say that when the orphaned Oliver arrives in London after having suffered in a workhouse, he meets another waif known as the Artful Dodger (Jack Wild), a master pickpocket despite his tender years. The Dodger takes the naive and innocent Oliver under his wing and introduces him to Fagin, a local career criminal who makes a living by training the young boys under his care how to serve as his personal band of thieves. Fagin is a villain, to be sure, but he has a benevolent air about him and a charismatic personality that convinces the lads in his gang that life with him is still far superior to the alternatives that society offers them. Soon, Oliver is coerced into committing crimes. His life takes a turn for the better when he is rescued and cared for by the kindly and wealthy Mr. Bumble (Joseph O'Conor). However, Fagin and his violent fellow criminal Bill Sikes (Oliver Reed) capture Oliver and return him to his life of crime. Oliver's only solace comes from the care and love he receives from Sikes' long-suffering and abused girlfriend, Nancy (Shani Wallis).
The film was an adaptation of Lionel Bart's smash hit 1960 stage musical, which is still routinely revived today. Perhaps because of the more realistic, downbeat aspects of the story, younger audiences were not alienated from the film version and the songs are so good and memorable it's hard to imagine anyone not being smitten by them. The film would go on to be nominated for eleven Oscars, winning six. An honorary Oscar was awarded to choreographer Onna White, who staged the massive and memorable musical number along the row houses of Bath. The best known actors in the film played supporting roles: popular comedy star Harry Secombe, Hugh Griffith, an Oscar winner for "Ben-Hur" and Oliver Reed, whose star was on the rise. Surprisingly, Shanni Wallis and Ron Moody never achieved big screen stardom despite being Oscar nominated for the film, but that doesn't negate the impact of their marvelous performances. Praise should be given to the two terrific child stars of the film, Mark Lester and Jack Wild, who carried the burden of starring in a big budget musical that must have seemed overwhelming to them at the time.
Sony had originally released "Oliver!" as a 4K UHD edition as part of their "Columbia Classic Volume 2" boxed set. This stand-alone release boasts a superb transfer and features an abundance of legacy bonus materials and a few new additions. The bonus features include a locations tour, an audio commentary by film historian Steven C. Smith, featurettes, sing-a-longs, trailers and much more. Highly recommended.
Click here to order from the Cinema Retro Movie Store
Screen legend Chuck Norris has passed away at age 86. Details are still sketchy regarding the circumstances. He had evolved from teaching martial arts to major movie stars to become a screen legend in his own rite. Steve McQueen was one of his students and it was he who convinced Norris to take up acting. Norris was the real deal, generally minimizing the use of stuntmen in favor of doing his own action scenes. His movies were rarely appreciated by critics but Norris wasn't making them to win awards. Rather, he knew his audience and gave them the kind of big screen action/adventure films they craved. He later transferred his popularity to television as the star of his long-running series "Walker, Texas Ranger". Norris was a life-long conservative and probably the most notable actor since John Wayne to carry the torch for right wing political candidates and causes he believed in. Unlike Wayne, however, his low-key mannerisms didn't result in the kind of controversies that surrounded the Duke. On the other hand, like Wayne, his films had wide appeal even to people who disagreed with his political beliefs. Norris remained popular throughout the decades and it's fair to say he earned the status of cinematic icon. (Lee Pfeiffer)
Lovely and talented actress Laurene Landon
has a very entertaining resume. The former model’s list of enjoyable films
include Roller Boogie (1979), Full Moon High (1981), Airplane II: The Sequel (1982), The Stuff (1985), Armed Response (1986), It’s
Alive III: Island of the Alive (1987), and Maniac Cop 2 (1990). Just to name a few. However, the always
welcome Landon is probably best known for her starring roles in cult classics
such as …All the Marbles (1981), I, the Jury (1982), Hundra (1983), Yellow Hair and the Fortress of Gold (1984), and Maniac Cop (1988). Recently, another
Landon starrer titled America 3000 was
made available on Blu-ray.
America 3000 takes place in the 31st
century where women, led by warrior queen Vena (Landon), rule and men are their
slaves. But there is one rebellious male named Korvis (Chuck Wagner) who gathers
a small group of men and arms his team with a newly discovered cache of 21st
century weapons. Will there be bloodshed or can the two genders learn to live
together in peace?
Is
America 3000 a good film? Not really. But it certainly is cheesy enough to
qualify as ‘so bad, it’s good”. Released in April of 1986, the quirky movie,
which was written and directed by David Engelbach, produced by Cannon Films and
distributed by Metro Goldwyn Mayer, has a very strange tone. At times, it seems
like it wants to be a broad, wacky comedy while the rest is a standard action
film mixed with serious, dramatic scenes. These tones never really come
together, making the movie feel very disjointed.
Still,
America 3000 is filled with decent action sequences (Landon clearly does
some of her own stunts) and costumes, and it features fun performances and lots
of big 80s hair. It also has a weird, made-up 31st century language,
but it’s pretty easy to figure out what it all means. And there’s a hairy,
bigfoot-like creature called Aargh the Awful. All in all, it isn’t great by any
means, but it does have its moments.
America 3000 has been released on
Blu-ray by Kino Lorber in a brand new HD master from a 2K scan of the 35mm interpositive. It
is presented in its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio and the good looking Region 1 disc
also contains optional English subtitles, the original theatrical trailer, an
interview with Laurene Landon and an audio commentary by writer/director David
Engelbach which is moderated by filmmaker Douglas Hosdale.
Imprint has
released its long-awaited 4K/Blu-ray three-disc box set of the 1969 all-star epic Battle
of Britain. It was worth the wait. Producer Harry Saltzman and director Guy Hamilton’s epic WWII film has never
looked better thanks to a great transfer. There is also a seemingly endless
amount of bonus materials included those provided by Cinema Retro’s own Sheldon
Hall, Simon Lewis and Steven Jay Rubin. If that isn’t enough, there is a mini
hardback book that reprints CR’s extensive coverage of the film from issue #45
along with an abundance of great photos.
This is a limited edition so order ASAP. The set is region-free. Click here to order.
(Prices are in Australian dollars. Use a currency converter for your local currency.)
Prior to trying his hand at screenwriting, David
McGillivray was simply a cinema enthusiast contributing reviews to such British
publications as Monthly Film Bulletin,
Films and Filming and Screen International.His screenplay for Pete Walker’s Frightmare (1974)was one of his earliest scripts, though the film’s original story
credit is ascribed to Walker alone.This
version of events contrasts a bit with Walker’s own generous memory.He suggests it was McGillivray who first
posed the idea of a making a “very not sexy” horror film involving
cannibalism.As the suggestion was
outrageous, Walker recalled he and McGillivray “lightheartedly” tossed scenario
ideas back-and-forth, the more atrocious ones eliciting “schoolboy
hysterics.”
When asked by biographer Steve Chibnall (Making Mischief:The Cult Films of Pete Walker), the
maverick director offered Frightmare as
a manifestation of “contrivance” rather than inspiration.Walker was primarily interested in producing exploitative
fare that would bring audiences into the cinema.This was best done by asking, “How can we
shock them next?”Walker recalled Frightmare “a great, fun movie to make,”
the cannibalism premise ensuring macabre appeal among the curious.A low-budget, hustling Hitchcock, Walker
would triumph Frightmare as the
“primary cult film of my collection.”
In an essay for Screen
International, McGillivray explained it was, in his term, the “collapse” of
Britain’s studio system that allowed such mavericks as Walker entry into the film
industry.He saw the indie-film market
as a separate entity running parallel to the mainstream industry. Creativity
was not the dividing line, only the allocation of production money.“I’m sure that some movie moguls still regard
500,000 GBP as ‘low budget,’ McGillivray mused.“Down my end of the market, 20,000 GBP is low budget.”Of course to shoot a feature film on such threadbare
financing called for “ruthless cost-cutting.” Amongst other hurdles, this would
mean directors working alongside skeleton-crews of supporting talent and tech
and, perhaps more importantly, dodging Britain’s budget-inflating ACTT union overseers.
The use of such indie guerrilla tactics, of course, favored
film producers, in this case Walker.McGillivray
noted that in 1976 the Writer’s Guild minimum for scripting a feature film was 5,000
GBP.In 1973 he was only paid “the
princely sum of 200 GBP” for the script of his second film.And, if one can trust the integrity of IMDB
listings, Frightmare was
McGillivray's second screenplay – a script written prior to Walker’s House of Whipcord, but produced
subsequent.Having already produced a
number of cheap, economically sustainable sex films, the ambitious Walker was
looking to move into producing more, ahem, mainstream cinematic fare.
“Horror films are pretty safe bets to make and sell,” Walker
offered to journalist Colin Vaines in 1978.“If you make a picture for a reasonable budget and if it’s half-way
decent, then you’ve got a commercial picture.”It is of some interest that in the course of his commentary included on
this new set from Kino Cult, Walker oddly admits he “didn’t like horror
films.”His slasher-pic The Flesh and Blood Show (1972) was his
first genuine entry into the horror sphere.Depending on one’s definition, Walker’s House of Whipcord wasn’t necessarily a horror pic, but a dark
prison film with plenty of horror on offer.
Though he only produced and directed a number of
exploitation films in the course of a decade-long career (1983’s House of the Long Shadows being the lone
outlier to this timeline), Walker was a long-time student of cinema.McGillivray mused his friend, “much to my
initial amazement, periodically retires to a dream world fabricated from the
Hollywood romances he grew up with as a child.He makes nostalgic trips to the National Film Theatre to moon over old
George Raft movies.”In his commentary
here, Walker does cite Alfred Hitchcock’s name on occasion.It’s obvious the psychological horrors of
Walker’s oeuvre were at least partly influenced by Hitchcock’s films.
The editor of Frightmare,
Robert C. Dearberg, believed the fiercely independent Walker could have managed
a respectable, successful turn in Hollywood, but “preferred to be his own
boss.”Walker confessed retrospectively
to London’s Guardian newspaper that
he chose instead to be his own man.He
was of the “kick, bollock and scramble school of film-making,” an
unwanted, “uninvited guest to the British film industry.”Though certainly not a critic’s darling of
the press back in the day, Walker was heartened by the fact that youthful film
reviewers of the time were often impressed by his envelope-pushing oeuvre. He
sighed his collection of horror pics were simply ahead of their time, a
foreshadowing of the grisly spate of horror films on the horizon.
Whatever one thinks of the sensationalist cannibalism scenario
of Frightmare, no one can deny Walker
managed to pull together a first-rate cast.The central character role of cannibal Dorothy Yates was played by
veteran actress Sheila Keith.Keith had
earlier played the role of the sadistic and repressed lesbian prison warden in House of Whipcord.The actress would appear in five other films of
Walker’s.Walker offers Keith’s role in Frightmare was specifically written with
the aging actress in mind.
McGillivray recalls much the same, suggesting Walker saw
Keith “as a scream queen, a villainess.”He also agrees with Walker’s assessment had Keith been cast in more
mainstream productions for such companies as Hammer or Amicus, the actress
would have enjoyed greater renown amongst horror fans.Walker certainly put a lot of stock in
Keith’s demonstrable gift of mad villainy and violence.He notes that in most feature films the “guys
get the best roles.”In Walker’s films,
men often appear as timid and ineffectual, subservient to strong women.
A case in point: in Frightmare
the role of Edmund Yates, Keith’s beleaguered, if devoted and protective
husband, is played by the rumple-faced actor Rupert Davies. Frightmare was one of – perhaps even the
last – of Davies’ feature film appearances.Though he found himself working primarily on television near career’s
end, beginning in 1968 he had become a supporting player of familiar face in such
big-screen horrors as Witchfinder General,
Dracula Has Risen from the Grave, The Crimson Cult, and The Oblong Box.
That said, Walker was not trying to copy the stylings of
Hammer Films or AIP or any others.By
the 1970s Hammer too was mostly jettisoning Gothic horrors in favor of
psychological thrillers.Walker dismissed
comparison of his films to that of Hammer and, in truth, Walker’s films aren’t
similar to Hammer’s at all.Walker’s
films often tended to end on a grim note, rarely with a stitched-on pleasing happy
ending.As for those choosing to attend
his films, Walker’s admitted desire was to “send them out miserable.” In course
of their commentary, Chibnall suggests to Walker that his films more-often-than-not
offered a “jaundiced view of family life.”
Walker parried that this was not the case.The threading theme in all of his pictures
was instead the idea of “the past coming back to haunt you.” Perhaps there’s an element of that here, but the
family portrayed central to Frightmare
can be described as dysfunctional in any and all use of the term.In the film Dorothy and Edmund have been
released from an asylum where they had been committed years earlier due to their
(apparent) appetite for human flesh.Unfortunately, being released and being rehabilitated are not
necessarily the same.Step-sisters
Jackie (Deborah Fairfax), Edmund’s daughter from a previous marriage, and
Debbie (Kim Butcher), the cannibal couple’s mutual daughter, have widely
different approaches on how best to handle their parent’s peculiar behaviors.I’ll leave the synopsis at that to avoid any potential
spoilers.
Despite its sensationalist premise, Frightmare, according to Walker, did not perform as well at the box
office as had House of Whipcord. As the
film was released in the U.K. in early December of 1974, Walker noted a
Christmas season release was perhaps “not the best time” for the unleashing of his
grim opus.The UK reviews were
absolutely scathing, Walker acknowledging the film “upset liberal critics” who then
went “berserk” in their condemnations.The primary criticism of the pic (aside from the angle of exploiting the
“tasteless” subject of cannibalism) was their belief that Walker was suggesting
people with psychological issues should be completely removed from society -
sent to asylums for the good of themselves and of others.
A self-made man who thought psychiatry “a waste of time,”
Walker admitted he was concerned with contemporary issues of crime, punishment
and turnstile justice.He tried to
explain his true intention to Screen
International. “I wasn’t saying, as the press made out, that the mentally
ill should be locked up forever and the key thrown away,” he insisted.“I was merely saying these people can still
be dangerous, and we should be more careful, particularly of what well-meaning
bureaucrats and psychiatrists say.”He
did concede his messaging was, perhaps, too blunt as handled.After all, he conceded, “when you wrap it up
in a commercial wrapping with Sheila Keith ranting around and sticking knives
in people and pitchforks in their eyes, your message is inclined to be
misunderstood.And I suppose it's understandable.”
The bad critical notices of Frightmare piled up quickly, critics savagely condemning the film,
each searching for properly damning descriptions.The film was described, amongst other things,
as “disgusting, repulsive, nauseating,” “a moral obscenity,” “peculiarly
repellant,” “despicable,” “gruesome,” “foul,” “gory, brutal and very nasty,”
“horrendous,” and “morally repellant.”
In a brilliant move, Walker embraced the bad press: after
all, the scorching reviews would surely make moviegoers curious.One week following the film’s opening, Walker
collected fourteen of the worst notices and made them part of his promotional
campaign.The ad campaign asked
audiences to fairly “Judge for yourself.”Editor Dearberg sighed while the notices were “fairly damning,” he thought
the tsunami of critical barbs received were an over-reaction.He conceded Frightmare was “fairly gross in places but not severely
over-the-top.”
Much of what I’ve discussed above is discussed at more length
in the two audio commentaries offered.I
chose to listen first to the second commentary that featured Walker and cinematographer
Peter Jessop as the pair could share first-hand recollections on the production
of and reception to the film.Their comments
are moderated by author Chibnall.Walker
is, by far, more gabby than Jessop in sharing his memories, though when the
former struggles to recall certain production moments, the latter often manages
to supply the details.
Walker recollects Frightmare
was shot in twenty-five days in February of 1974, the gritty, bleak and grey
winter skies accentuating the gloomy mood of the film. Chibnall accurately describes
DOP Jessop’s “fairytale lighting” of the film’s fire-lit interiors as
exceptional.My only issue with this
particular commentary is at least two portions of the conversation are looped
in twice (I’m assuming) to help cover gaps in the film’s eighty-six minute
running time.This commentary is also
not new, having been ported over from Redemption’s 2006 DVD release.
As the official production start of Hammer’s The Curse of Frankenstein began 19
November 1956, this autumn will mark the seventieth anniversary of cameras
rolling.Warner Archive’s new 3-disc 4K
version of Curse makes no mention of the
anniversary in its packaging – so the timing of this release might be entirely coincidental.This is the WB Archive’s second bite at the Curse apple.In December 2020 Warner released a two-disc Blu
ray version of the film.All three
aspect ratio versions of Curse that appeared
on that earlier Blu (the 1.66:1 UK theatrical version, the 1:85.1 U.S.
theatrical version and the 1:37.1 Open Matte version) are made available here again,
this time in 4K/SDR video.All of the earlier
2-disc “Special Features” have also been ported over as well, though not in upgraded
in 4K.
On Disc 2 and 3 of this 2025 set, compilers have included
a number of new features not included on the original WA set of 2020.Disc Two does, in fact, feature an array of
entirely new 2025 bonus material.Disc
Three features a composite of material previously published earlier on WA’s
U.S. Blu-ray set of 2020 as well as from
the UK DVD set issued by Lionsgate Home Entertainment in October of 2012.It’s to the collector’s benefit that
Britain’s John Gore Studios Company and the folks at Warner Archive have chosen
to pool their resources for this issue, synthesizing earlier documentariess and
audio commentaries for this new U.S. edition.
Of course there’s an elephant-in-the-room that cannot be
ignored.Across the pond, the Gore
Company has released an even more expansive set celebrating Curse: a deluxe “Limited Edition Collector’s Edition Box” of the
film. That British package offers a staggering six discs of film and bonus content spread over two 4K and four Blu-ray
discs.The set additionally includes a
poster, art cards, a 168-page book and even a 68 comic book adaptation of Curse (originally published in England’s
The House of Hammer magazine).Obviously, over six discs, there’s a lot of bonus
content exclusive to the Gore set.Hammer completists will need to choose between the two sets.Perhaps their decision will come down to
basic economics.The MSRP of the U.S. Warner
Archive set is $34.99, the British Gore set 60 GBP (approximately $81 U.S.
dollars).
If you’re a big fan of audio commentaries, fear not –
you’re in luck.Both sets share a
plethora of them, both new and old.The
first of the two new 2025 commentaries is offered by Kim Newman, Barry Forshaw and
Stephen Jones, the second by Heidi Honeycutt and Toby Roan.Ported over from earlier releases are those
by Marcus Hearn and Jonathan Rigby (2012) and Dr. Steve Haberman and
Constantine Nasr (2020).There is, as
one might guess, a tsunami of historical information imparted on both the
origin of Hammer as well as the importance of Curse to their fabled catalog of Gothic chillers.
The
Curse of Frankenstein is generally seen as the first Hammer Goth-horror
classic. Richard Klemensen, publisher of Little
Shoppe of Horrors magazine, offers a succinct examination of the nuts and
bolts of the film’s production history in course of the doc The Resurrection Men: Hammer, Frankenstein and the Rebirth of the
Horror Film.He explains Hammer was a small, struggling
indie studio churning out B-pics and modest second features since its 1934 founding.Hammer’s existence was threatened in the
early 1950s when television would upend the British film industry.Ironically, it was during this same time that
the company would release one of their most significant legacy films: a sci-fi pic
adapted from British TV: The Quatermass
Xperiment.
That success of that film signaled Hammer’s first successful
entry in the sci-fi/horror genre, though the pic was a stylistic far cry from
the Gothic horrors for which the studio would soon be become associated.The public’s interest in such Goth material
had waned in the late 1940s, enthusiasm for Universal’s famed cycle of Dracula,
Frankenstein and Mummy films having peaked and passed.That audience had since turned their
attentions to flying saucers and aliens, to giant radioactive insects and Ray
Harryhausen’s wondrous stop-motion monsters and mutations.
So, on the surface, 1956 seemed an odd moment in time for
Hammer to invest in restaging such Gothic-literature creatures as Shelley’s
Frankenstein Monster and Stoker’s Dracula.The initial scripting idea for the first of Hammer’s Frankenstein cycle
would come to the company via two gentleman soon to become competitors:Milton Subotsky and Max J. Rosenberg, the two
principals behind Amicus Productions.Though
Hammer execs ultimately rejected their script, the idea of producing a Frankenstein
film was not dismissed outright.The
studio’s interest in reviving the franchise was ultimately left to the
fresh-take imagination of screenwriter Jimmy Sangster.
In Sarah Appleton’s doc Good or Tuesday?Jimmy Sangster
at Hammer (2025, 39m, 6s), a battery of film scholars (Stephen Laws,
Stephen Gallagher, David Pirie, Wayne Kinsey and Mark Gatiss) argue that
Sangster was a key contributor to Hammer’s success.Having worked his way up the company ranks as
production manager and assisting director, Sangster eventually morphed into
Hammer’s preeminent screenwriter.Having
kicked-off his scripting days with X the
Unknown (1956), it was with Curse,
his second screenplay, that Sangster brought an arguable “non-conformist
attitude to a conformist society.”
One example of Sangster’s boldness was his choosing not to
approach the works of Shelley or Stoker as if holy writs.As screenwriter, Sangster was entirely comfortable
in subverting earlier works – of both literature and film – to construct scenarios
of sly humor with storylines that would prove unrecognizable to their original
creators.In his autobiography Do You Want It Good or Tuesday: from Hammer
Films to Hollywood (1997), Sangster was surprisingly dismissive of his
early Gothic horror works.He was more
comfortable scribing tense psychological thrillers in the style of Diabolique and Psycho.
In truth, Sangster needed
to subvert many of the old familiar old tropes.Hammer’s decision to resurrect Frankenstein’s monster was not met with great
enthusiasm by Universal Pictures.As the
creators of the original series of Frankenstein films (1931-1948), the studio
was protective of their intellectual properties.Fearing legal blowback, Hammer would need to
make certain no lingering Universal-elements would feature in their new work.But as Mary Shelley’s novel of 1818 was in rights-free
Public Domain status, Universal could not claim ownership to any primary characters
appearing in her original work.
There would be little overlap with the well-celebrated
Universal film series.For starters, Curse would not feature mobs of torch
and pitchfork toting angry villagers chasing down monsters.The modest budget set aside for Curse wouldn’t allow for the employ of an
army of extras.The use of Jack Pierce’s
iconic flat-top Frankenstein monster make-up, replete with neck electrodes and
callow cheeks was also off-limits.Within
a three-day span, make-up wizard Phil Leakey was expected to conjure a less
iconic - and far more gruesome – face for Frankenstein’s creation, stitches and
boils, melted flesh and clouded eyes.
In the accompany 2025 doc, Recreating the Creature (34m, 41s), Academy Award winning makeup
artist David Elsey is tasked to recreate Leakey’s design using actor James
Swanton as model.Swanton, whose long
and angular face is of similar structure to Christopher Lee’s, sits in a dressing
chair, he and the artists sharing reminiscences of Curse and Leakey’s art.Though
Leakey passed in 1992, his reminiscences are interspersed throughout, courtesy
of a surviving audio tape recorded.Leakey’s instructions were only that he could not copy Pierce’s Karloff’s
makeup due to possible copyright tangles.As plaster casts were not yet the norm, poor Christopher Lee spent hours
in the chair as Leakey tested gruesome variations – without benefit of time,
money or resources.Leakey’s son,
Peter, recalls that his father and Lee passed those make-up chair hours
listening to radio broadcasts of the 1956 Melbourne Olympic Games.
Eventually, gruesome and bloody would prove the order of
the day.As this was the first
Frankenstein film to be shot in Eastmancolour, the filmmakers took advantage of
relaxing censorship standards.As a
result, Curse is certainly far more visually
graphic than previous seen, the pic dressed with shocking (for-the-time) blood-letting
gory visuals.That’s not to say the British
censors were happy when the film was submitted for their review.The film would eventually receive an “X’
rating.One extra included on this set,
“Alternate Eyeball Scene,” includes a brief moment of mild “ocular horror” excised
from the British print upon its release in 1957.
Censors weren’t concerned only with the film’s glimpses
of graphic violence.There were also
concerned with the pic’s mix of explicit sexuality and its provocative peeks of
Hazel Court’s famed bosom. That said, no one could claim the cast of Curse weren’t well-dressed.The costume design and work of mostly the
mostly unheralded “doyenne” of Hammer Horror, Molly Arbuthnot - whose work is
not even credited on Curse - gets her
due in Jon Robertson’s 2025 docs A
Fitting Vocation (10m, 11s) and Topped
and Tailed (16m, 21s).Professorial
film scholars Josephine Botting and Melanie Bell examine Arbuthnot’s creative
contributions to “Hammer Glamour” – churning out resplendent fashion designs despite
working within the tight budget constraints.Actor Melvyn Hayes, who plays the young Victor Frankenstein in Curse, also appears throughout to share
his memories of London’s theater and film costuming-rental houses.
Every year I promise myself I won't write a review of the previous night's Oscar telecast but quite a few years ago when I was traveling in Costa Rica, I missed the ceremonies, though I did get some glimpses of it on a bar T.V. from the swimming pool I was enjoying in between sipping Mojitos. . Thus I wasn't able to express my thoughts about it. Turns out there are actually some people who do want to read my thoughts about the show, given a number of E mails I received complaining that I was slacking off. In truth I was slacking off but I've tried not to do so again. In fact, I like watching the Oscars but there's an awful lot to encapsulate in a review so I'll just reel off some random lingering thoughts about it.
Conan O'Brien proved once again to be a good choice for host. Granted, he has nothing to do with the motion picture industry but neither did Johnny Carson during all those years he emceed the ceremonies. O'Brien was witty, amiable and managed to work clean, unlike most of today's comedians who - like our elected officials- try to increase their popularity by dropping vulgarities into every other sentence. O'Brien's opening skit, which was apparently a spoof of the movie "Weapons" (which I have not seen) involved him in clownish makeup being pursued by a crazed bunch of little kids. The elaborate gag seemed to go on forever but it was wildly ambitious and quite cinematic in nature. O'Brien's quips were funny and on the mark and included the usual "bite the hand that feeds you" remarks about the entertainment industry, the influence of AI and Amazon's dual role as a movie studio and a company that can deliver your toilet paper.
The fashions on display were very traditional and glamorous. Thankfully the days in which some attendees tried to get press attention by wearing bizarre sci-fi costume-like dresses and suits seem to be over. Perhaps the Hollywood elite have decided its better to emulate Elizabeth Taylor than try to outdo Cher or Madonna.
The ceremony was predictably long...as in the running time of "Ben-Hur" long. However, the pace was brisk and the show was well directed. The logistics of the ceremony are incalculably perilous but there were no major gaffes.
Why is it that the person who wins the Oscar for Costume Design is generally the worst dressed person to give an acceptance speech? This year was no exception, as "Frankenstein" winner Kate Hawley took to the stage attired in something akin to the black plastic bags you use to dispense with the leaves in your garden.
As usual the longest acceptance speeches seemed to be given by people who won awards for short films.
The "In Memoriam" segment is generally criticized, including by this writer, for the blatant omission of notable people who should have been included. This year they extended the segment and put a notice at the end that seemed to acknowledge those artists who were not included by informing viewers a more comprehensive listing of the dear departed can be found at the Academy's web site. Well, I guess that's some improvement. The highlight was a wonderfully moving tribute to a true screen icon, Robert Redford, by Barbra Streisand who spoke lovingly of his good nature, commitment to social justice and conservation. She ended by singing the final bars from the theme song for "The Way We Were". It was a wonderful and unforgettable tribute. Similarly, Billy Crystal presented a special tribute to his friends Rob and Michele Reiner, who were senselessly murdered last year. The two memorial segments were beautifully staged and produced.
There was no rhyme or reason to enforcing the time limits on acceptance speeches. Some favored winners did not fear the clicking stop watch and were allowed to give their complete speeches. However, others were cut off abruptly as in the cruel instance of the group KPop Demon Hunters, who were accepting the Oscar for Best Song. Only one person got to briefly express thanks before the next person was abruptly prevented from doing so, having been drowned out by music, a not so subtle way of telling you that you're time on stage is over.
The most popular awards were given to sentimental favorites: Michael B. Jordan for his acclaimed performance in "Sinners" and Paul Thomas Anderson, who -after 14 nominations-finally won not just one Oscar, but three including for Best Picture, "One Battle After the Other". Jessie Buckley, who was not considered a shoo-in for her performance in "Hamnet", gave a very gracious and moving acceptance speech after being awarded Best Actress for her brilliant performance in the film.
The gimmick of reuniting the cast of "Bridesmaids" seemed like much ado about nothing. Granted the film was popular when released in 2011, but it's hardly the kind of cinematic classic that deserved this much attention.
Host Conan O'Brien ended the show with a funny skit in which he is led to believe he will be named permanent host for future Oscar ceremonies, only to find there is a sting-in-the-tail caveat straight out of an old E.C. horror comic. He also reiterated the big news that beginning in 2029, the Oscars will be seen exclusively on YouTube. It's a bold gamble by the Academy to attract younger viewers but in doing so, they risk alienating their core base of fans who are content to view the ceremonies on a major T.V. network. Time will tell whether the strategy works or not.
Well, that's it for now. I'll be back next year with some thoughts, unless I'm tempted to sip Mojitos in a Costa Rican swimming pool.
