Planet of the Vampires.

Review #2626: Planet of the Vampires.

Cast: 

Barry Sullivan (Captain Mark Markary), Norma Bengell (Sanya), Ángel Aranda (Wess Wescant), Evi Marandi (Tiona), Franco Andrei (Garr; 'Bert'), Federico Boido (Harry Gash), Stelio Candelli (Mud; 'Brad'), Alberto Cevenini (Wan Markary; 'Toby'), Mario Morales (Eldon), Ivan Rassimov (Dervy; 'Carter'), Massimo Righi (Captain Nordeg; 'Sallis'), and Fernando Villeña (Dr. Karan) Directed by Mario Bava (#792 - Black Sabbath, #2468 - Black Sunday)

Review: 

Mario Bava loved to do whatever movies he wanted, so why not go with horror along with some sci-fi? He ran the gamut in genre films, whether that was the sword-and-sandal spectacles, sci-fi with The Day the Sky Exploded [1958], and so on. The original basis for the film was the 1960 short story "One Night of 21 Hours" (as written by Renato Pestriniero) that Bava found in an anthology collection. A variety of writers started the initial screenplay with Antonio Román and Rafael J. Salvia (which was then translated to English) that saw a subsequent re-tooling from Ib Melchior (with an apparent desire to play up the atmosphere, as he checked out Black Sunday). Alberto Bevilacqua and Callisto Cosulich then worked on fine-tuning the script. For the English version, Melchior and Louis M. Hayward were credited. It should be noted that the wide variety of cast member nationalities (an American in Sullivan, a Brazilian in Bengell, an Italian in Marandi, for example), they simply just said their lines in their native language (as such, various people did dubbing for the film). As financed by Italian, Spanish, and American interests (none other than American International Pictures), the movie was the type to pair with Die, Monster, Die! (1965), albeit with quite the provocative title. The original Italian title (Terrore hello spazio) translates to "Terror in Space" while the U.K. saw it released as "The Demon Planet". It wasn't a hearty success with audiences at the time, although Bava would keep plugging away (mainly in horror), with his next being Kill, Baby, Kill (1966). Gradually over the years, the movie was cited as an important influence in sci-fi movies, ranging from Alien (screenwriter Dan O'Bannon eventually admitted to stealing the giant skeleton from Bava's film) to later films such as Mission to Mars (2001) and Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom (2021).

Through a collection of techniques ranging from fog, mirrors, forced perspective, and miniatures (as seen in images such as this) to basically cover for a movie that is all over the place in characterization, but it sure has a hell of a punch when it gets finished. It's a pulpy movie that rides its strange set and environment of rocks and fog for a bewildering experience that actually does carry what could've easily just been a smorgasbord of cheap tricks and sterile surroundings (particularly with the variety of people that come and go with not exactly much fanfare for a film that involves disembodied aliens possessing people). But with Bava and his outlook in mind, there is just something with the way that he makes it all look and feel for an unnerving and dazzling maneuvering of images for 88 minutes in an eerie land with vinyl-looking costumes that remind one of insects to go along with a look upon fear and the unknown. Sure, Sullivan is basically the one highlight among the cast for his staid nature when compared to the other doomed counterparts, but things stay together in wavering tension long enough to make the quibbles that hinder dreary movies (similar ships that are easy to forget about, for one). It's the kind of gloomy hokum that you can't help but smile at the creativity rather than chuckle at. The ending is a pretty damn good one, since it isn't enough to try and dangle the idea of sacrifice and deception on people's face, nope, you get an exquisite tease that lends to some imagination (of course, one rejected idea involved them basically becoming "Adam and Eve", so wrap your head around that). Having an ending that challenges the usual song and dance in going home is a worthy one when looking for some macabre enjoyment. Planet of the Vampires is a strange, offbeat movie worth checking out at least once for its curious qualities from Bava and company that may very well be more than meets the eye.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Closing out November 7 by going to hell with Inferno (1980)!

Kuroneko.

Review #2617: Kuroneko.

Cast: 

Kichiemon Nakamura (Gintoki), Nobuko Otowa (the Mother), Kiwako Taichi (Shige), Kei Satō (Raiko), Hideo Kanze (the Mikado), Taiji Tonoyama (the farmer), Yoshinobu Ogawa (Raiko follower), and Rokko Toura (a warlord) Written and Directed by Kaneto Shindō (#2500 - Onibaba)

Review: 

In the times of feudal Japan, there was plenty of time to see the lands visited by samurai within civil war, whether that involved the time revolving somewhere before/after the first millennium or in the later later times. People once could see people with hikimayu involving plucked out eyebrows for smudges to go along with painted teeth (I say this because you'll see it in this film alongside others such as Rashomon [1950]). But all of that pales in comparison to a ghost story that deals with the forgotten type of people within alleged conquest and mythmaking, the type of people that live and die in the margins because there are only so many people in the world before it all seems futile. In that sense, it probably seems apt that Kuroneko (the translated title is "A Black Cat in a Bamboo Grove") came around just a few years after the vitality and urges that came out with Onibaba (1964), which you might remember had peasant women survive on the killing and robbing of samurai; Otowa starred in both movies (as she had done in various other films that ranged from Story of a Beloved Wife [1951] to A Last Note [1995]). At any rate, here's a movie with dead peasants that come around to lure samurai into the bamboo groves with a certain type of futility to it all. 

Of course, it isn't a simple period (jidaigeki) horror movie, because even the onryō (vengeful spirits) are thought to be really interesting things to focus attention on beyond simple revenge stories, to the point where there exist three people that were called the "Three Great Onryo" with Emperor Sutoku, Taira no Masakado, and Sugawara no Michizane. It's not enough to see retribution in the physical sense, you might as well feel the torment in the psychological far more than anything. Of course, this happens to involve plenty of shots that deal in the distance of where things lurk, whether that involves hovering or those that loom over the bamboo or, in some other odd way, upon the soul. The most straightforward moment of the film is in its start involving the pillaging of the two women by the samurai that naturally lead to the process of death and life being twisted into pieces for those to seek blood through what might as well be a dance of death (anything could be a dance of death if you want to be a 1st-year blowhard, but it's a bit more literal here). It eventually dispatches with seeing select samurai take a one-way ticket to hell because of the eventual reveal of Taichi beyond being a man of names and "virtue". It is a pretty harrowing movie to sit through in the dance of death and perhaps some sort of sympathy for their impossible pursuit of all swordsman to meet their preferred fate that may see their blood drip into hell. Even hacking off an arm isn't the straight-forward easy thing to dealing with spirits, because even purification proves to be a probing case of cloying voices, tricks, and other odd things. It's the kind of "enigmatic" type of horror that is worthy of actually allowing oneself to see it all the way to the end of its 99 minute runtime where all eventually leads to the same place regardless of one's alleged place in society reigns: dust that blows in the wind until the last measure of memory and spirit is extinguished. In general, this is a movie fit for those who dig atmosphere where spirits reign free to pursue a dance of death that is unsettling and all the more curious to actually watch play out in devilish charm.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

As per tradition for the past few Halloweens, it's time to have a big show of reviews for the big day. Next up: Basket Case.

Song of the day!

Supplemental song

The Damned.

Review #2610: The Damned.

Cast: 

Macdonald Carey (Simon Wells), Shirley Anne Field (Joan), Viveca Lindfors (Freya Neilson), Oliver Reed (King), Alexander Knox (Bernard), Walter Gotell (Major Holland), James Villiers (Captain Gregory), Tom Kempinski (Ted), Kenneth Cope (Sid), with Rachel Clay (Victoria), Caroline Sheldon (Elizabeth), Rebecca Dignam (Anne), Siobhan Taylor (Mary), Nicholas Clay (Richard), Kit Williams (Henry), Christopher Witty (William), David Palmer (George), and John Thompson (Charles)

Directed by Joseph Losey.

Review: 

Sure, let's see what's with the British and sci-fi/horror. Known as The Damned in its native Britain but These Are the Damned in its original American release (as distributed by Columbia Pictures), the film was based on the 1960 novel The Children of Light by H.L. Lawrence by Evan Jones. At director was expatriate Joseph Losey, who reluctantly accepted because of his desire to keep working as an American that was still reeling from the blacklist of the previous decade (it was he who brought in Jones to do the script rather than the one originally co-written by producer Anthony Hinds and Ben Barzman). Due to demands from Hinds (who once stated his loathing of both Losey and the film), there would be more than one version of the film lurking around to pair for a double feature. It actually was meant to be just a 95 minute movie (complete with already being rated with an X certificate), but Losey went with the suggested Hinds edits (heaven forbid a bleak movie be a bit bleak for audiences) for an 87 minute version on release for the UK (of course, the movie ended up being released first in Australia in 1962 before the UK release of "The Damned" for a title rather than "The Brink" in 1963). Columbia ended up quibbling even further and released it only in 1965 with a 77-minute version called "These Are the Damned" (because, hey, Village of the Damned [1960]). Losey would continue to direct all the way until his death in 1984 at the age of 75, leaving behind such films as The Boy with Green Hair (1948), Boom! (1968), and The Go-Between (1971).

Sure, it's a horror movie in the perils of potential Armageddon that goes with atmosphere over gore (as one does when focusing on what lies beneath kids that happen to be a bit cold) that does in fact make for a pretty curious movie that really does have no winners. The best of intentions can in fact lead to the potential for the most horrifying of possibilities in a time where people really did believe in the looming threat of a Cold War blooming into actual nuclear holocaust where only the fateful few may survive. Naturally, it is a potboiler type of movie that gets to that point by first starting out with a gang of tough-guys and the relative ease in which they engage in violence for a world that both loves and hates the ones who are angry to it all. You might remember that Hammer liked what they saw from Reed* in The Curse of the Werewolf [1961] to cast him with a few more interesting roles in movies such as this and Paranoiac [1963] before exploding later in the decade. His performance here weighs heavily in the time you see him for what lurks in the hearts of men within his instability and his odd dynamic with his onscreen sister in Field that suggests more than meets the eye in the cloying rot that pervades us more than we wish to admit. This doesn't take away from Carey and Field, don't get me wrong, because they still make for suitable presences to get caught in the structures of chaos with very few choices for themselves that might as well fit the title of the film more than anything. Knox and his cold logic in the ideas of reasoned intentions does fit for the key piece of seeing where all things lie when plans and human nature crash into a fiery hell. The interactions with the kid actors generally go pretty well in seeing the unsettling nature of what things really are like outside of a bubble, where cold choices really can be made by the most alleged warm-blooded people imaginable. The damned could inherit the Earth, but for what? As a whole, it is the horrors of the inevitable that really drive the movie for better or worse, one that makes a pretty damned cold time that is worth at least one curious watch.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Song of the day!

*One year after the film came out, Reed got into a bar fight that saw him fear the worst because he ended up with plenty of stitches and a scar on his cheek. But he lived on.

Mr. Sardonicus.

Review #2601: Mr. Sardonicus.

Cast: 

Oskar Homolka (Krull), Ronald Lewis (Sir Robert Cargrave), Audrey Dalton (Maude Sardonicus), Guy Rolfe (Baron Sardonicus / Marek Toleslawski), Vladimir Sokoloff (Henryk Toleslawski), Erika Peters (Elenka), and Lorna Hanson (Anna)

Produced and Directed by William Castle (#369 - House on Haunted Hill (1959), #1071 - 13 Ghosts, #1418 - The Night Walker, #1703 - Undertow, #2261 - Macabre, #2300 - Homicidal, #2301 - Strait-Jacket. #2436 - The Tingler)

Review: 

The Castle-mania of gimmicks and loose ideas of what to do in horror had to go with a "punishment poll" to really drive up some curiosity, really. William Castle bought the rights to the short story "Sardonicus" by Ray Russell and got him to write the screenplay (as for the title of the story/film, it refers to Risus sardonicus or rictus grin that involves a spasm of the facial muscles that looks like a grin, with a good chunk of observations believing it as a sign of tetanus). The gimmick this time revolved around a "punishment poll" involving glow-in-the-dark cards that you could either hold up or down to try and determine a possible ending, with Castle "hosting" as if he is seeing the poll taking place himself. Released by Columbia Pictures in October 1961 that soon saw it paired in a double feature with Valley of the Dragons, Castle followed a different path for his next film with Zotz! (1962), a fantasy comedy (the gimmick for that movie? a plastic replica of an amulet that had a hole for a key chain) before getting back to horror with a remake of The Old Dark House (1963).

Okay, there wasn't actually two endings to choose from, although for many years it was believed to be the case, with Castle even claiming as such in his autobiography. But it does make for a delightful note to get started in talking about an average but delightful time spent in the attempts at imagination with Castle and company. It dwells heavily on dialogue and its one estate set while having its one trump card being the occasional effects shot of the title character; with five separate facial appliance fittings, Rolfe couldn't wear that thing for very long and thus is shown mostly with a mask over his face. Homolka got top billing as the one-eyed leering butler, for whatever reason, although he was talented enough at one point in time (as you could say for an Academy Award-nominated actor) to make it worthwhile, which is done here with a bit of unsettling curiosity. There isn't much for Rolfe to really chew on beyond cheap villainy, but he does make a go at it with a type of relish that at least makes the setup for the climax seem plausible enough to invest time with. Lewis and Dalton would make a curious part of a triangle with Rolfe in a duel for attention, but it doesn't really go too far; at least Lewis has some charm to keep the ship afloat in likability. The mask is actually a bit creepy at times, which might make up for the fact that he basically is the ridiculous type of evil in "for...reasons" type, which involves ordering leeches on someone's face or wanting to pick out a woman from a lineup to do...things in the chambers (the townspeople sure treat his name like he was a vampire) or the eventual pressing of our hero to get to work. So, there's the backstory with the man and the grin. Apparently, it all stems from trying to rob the grave of his father to obtain...a lottery ticket, because his wife sure would think of it as a way to prove his love (as if being married wasn't enough). By the time it lumbers to the conclusion, it has made for an adequate film that used its trappings (soundstages doubling for 19th century Europe) and some showmanship to at least make a watchable experience. It's not exactly as rambunctious as The Tingler or even House on Haunted Hill, but it will work just fine for those who love Castle's little tricks and energy in the horror sense.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Song of the day!

*The review at the time for The New York Times said that Castle was "not Edgar Allan Poe" with its execution, as if that somehow was an own.

Torture Garden.

Review #2598: Torture Garden.

Cast:

Framework story: Burgess Meredith (Dr. Diabolo), Michael Ripper (Gordon Roberts), and Timothy Bateson (Fairground Barker), and Clytie Jessop (Atropos - Goddess of Destiny)

"Enoch": Michael Bryant (Colin Williams), Catherine Finn (Nurse Parker), Maurice Denham (Uncle Roger), Niall MacGinnis (Dr. Silversmith), Roy Stevens (Constable), Norman Claridge (Police Sergeant), Barry Low (Tramp) 

"Terror Over Hollywood": Beverly Adams (Carla Hayes), Robert Hutton (Bruce Benton), John Phillips (Eddie Storm), Bernard Kay (Dr. Heim), David Bauer (Mike Charles), Nicole Shelby (Millie), James Copeland (Fred)

"Mr. Steinway": John Standing (Leo Winston), Ursula Howells (Miss Maxine Chambers), and Barbara Ewing (Dorothy Endicott)

"The Man Who Collected Poe": Jack Palance (Ronald Wyatt), Peter Cushing (Lancelot Canning), Hedger Wallace (Edgar Allan Poe), Roy Godfrey (Collector)

Directed by Freddie Francis (#854 - They Came from Beyond Space, #856 - The Evil of Frankenstein, #860 - Dracula Has Risen from the Grave, #1145 - Tales from the Crypt, #1419 - Dr. Terror's House of Horrors, #2143 - Trog, #2429 - Mumsy, Nanny, Sonny and Girly)

Review: 

Well, if you're going to do an anthology movie, you might as well go with one filled with certain types of "imagination". With Amicus Production and producer Milton Subotsky's favoring of doing anthology movies (after the success of 1965's Dr. Terror's House of Horrors, which had Francis as director) and funding from Columbia Pictures, how could you go wrong? This was the sixth movie written by Robert Bloch and it was the second of three films where Freddie Francis directed his script (the others were The Psychopath [1966] and The Deadly Bees [1967]). Apparently, there were ideas to have Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee be the main stars, but Columbia wanted some American presences, so you get Jack Palance and Burgess Meredith while Cushing gets a bit role for the fourth story. Apparently, when Francis later worked with Martin Scorsese as a cinematographer, Scorsese told Francis how much he liked the movie and even tried to get him involved in doing a film about Edgar Allan Poe, which did not come to pass. Amicus returned to the well of anthologies with The House That Dripped Blood (released in 1971 that happened to be co-written by Bloch) while Francis worked with Amicus again with Tales from the Crypt (1972).

You get four stories of people (in what Amicus liked calling a "portmanteau" rather than anthology because, well, um, why not?) looking at threads of what may come to pass after spending a dozen minutes (of a 100-minute movie, and that doesn't include the "resolution") with Meredith and his totally not more than a carnie act with a "goddess of destiny" standing still while people's "future" is told. What you get here is two unwieldy stories and two that almost seem ready to have fun in the macabre for a very subdued affair unless you just roll with evil cats, pianos, Hollywood caricatures and other things that go eyeroll in the night. Meredith and his huckster act is probably the highlight of the movie, honestly. The first story (lasting roughly 25 minutes, the longest of the bunch) involves a steadily revealed secret upon a family visit with the greedy Bryant. No, not that secret, a real one: a cat. It has the least glaring annoyances that happens to also involve an evil, hungry cat (aren't they all?), which, well, at least is presented halfway seriously. The second segment (23 minutes) involves a woman trying to get ahead in the world of showbiz that finds the real secret behind actors never going down-oh forget trying to hide the secret, it's because the actors are robots. It's bad enough to be wrapped in a middling story with a barely-there Adams, it's quite another to just fling out a twist that a third-grader might come up with for why they are so hyper today. By this point the idea of having characters encounter ironic or cutting fates is basically nonexistent, as if these people can't even exist beyond the names given to them.  The third segment is probably the shortest (14 minutes) for a good reason: a woman living in the piano-sized shadow of someone who can't quite just live his life without the dead daring to speak their mind. Yes, it involves a moving piano and it probably is the most interesting tale of the bunch because it at least provides a few interesting shots for when it gets to the inevitable showdown of just who deserves to be around for love. The last segment (lasting 17 minutes) involves who else but Edgar Allen Poe, as there are secrets that lie beneath collectibles with devilish influences, a lack of subtlety from Palance and an all too briefly charming Cushing and other things that come with wannabe spooky storytelling. Aside from a few highlight moments from Meredith in setting some curious with the conman act of fates and darkness, Torture Garden is just too inconsistent to really call a winner, representing that making one anthology movie is hard enough, making one that doesn't feel like a re-hash of the aforementioned Dr. Terror is another. If you like digging around for anthologies, it might be worth a look down, down, down the line, but, well, you never know.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Song of the day!

Hint: make sure to add the year to googling this movie, as "Torture Garden" apparently also leads to a search for a fetish event.

Tales of Terror.

Review #2591: Tales of Terror.

Cast: 

"Morella" 

Vincent Price (Locke), Maggie Pierce (Lenora Locke), Leona Gage (Morella Locke), and Ed Cobb (Coach Driver)

"The Black Cat"

Vincent Price (Fortunato Luchresi), Peter Lorre (Montresor Herringbone), Joyce Jameson (Annabel Herringbone), Lennie Weinrib (Policeman), Wally Campo (Barman Wilkins), John Hackett (Policeman), and Alan DeWitt (Wine Society Chairman)

"The Case of M. Valdemar"

Vincent Price (Ernest Valdemar), Basil Rathbone (Mr. Carmichael), Debra Paget (Helene Valdemar), David Frankham (Dr. Elliot James), and Scott Brown (Servant)

Directed by Roger Corman (#368 - The Little Shop of Horrors, #684 - It Conquered the World, #852 - The Terror, #931 - Not of This Earth, #1007 - Attack of the Crab Monsters, #1039 - Five Guns West, #1042 - War of the Satellites, #1136 - Gas-s-s-s, #1147 - X: The Man with the X-ray Eyes, #1186 - A Bucket of Blood, #1423 - The Wild Angels, #1425 - The St. Valentine's Day Massacre, #1674 - Machine-Gun Kelly, #1684 - Creature from the Haunted Sea, #1918 - House of Usher, #2030 - The Trip, #2113 - The Undead, #2211 - The Intruder, #2275 - The Wasp Woman, #2295 - The Pit and the Pendulum, #2434 - The Premature Burial, #2534 - Frankenstein Unbound)

Review: 

Welcome to Trove Tuesday, the first of four featuring anthology movies for the horror season.

For the fourth film in Roger Corman's Poe cycle by American International Pictures, what better way to mess with expectations by making an anthology movie? (sure, purists would probably say the way to really mess with people would be to make "more faithful" adaptations, but, well, apples to oranges). You get three stories loosely adapted that all happen to have Vincent Price play a part in each of them (complete with a voiceover prior to the start of each segment) with varying levels of entertainment for the price of one. Production quickly commenced in November of 1961 before release the following year that actually did re-use footage and setting from House of Usher. Richard Matheson wrote the screenplay and apparently stated his favorite of the three was the last one due to it being played "pretty straight". While the movie had a few mixed responses (Cormanmania isn't for everyone, what else is there to say?), it was enough of a hit to continue the loose filming of Poe tales with Price and Lorre in The Raven (1963); incidentally, Price and Lorre would work together with Rathbone that same year with Jacques Tourneur's The Comedy of Terrors (which happened to be written by, well, Matheson).

I do enjoy the curiosity with looking at the varying quality of anthology movies, particularly ones where one segment seems to have been given the most attention or just to see what you can do with a particular presence in a particular amount of time. It goes like this: either you roll with the cliches present in stuff like this or you roll your eyes and wonder where the time has gone. Maybe I'm just a sucker for AIP stuff with their casual nature to filmmaking and maneuvering the action depending on what genre or fad they really want to draw on. This works in the favor of a movie that is fairly average in execution but at least has the power of Price to lead the way in three distinct doomed types: one warped in delusion, one warped with some light fun, and one basically stationary until needed. The first story is "Morella" (which lasts roughly 22 minutes) that at least has the benefit of not being full-length. It has the cliches present from other AIP movies (decaying houses, loony Price, a totally big twist) while Pierce basically just yields the floor in presence to Price, who makes things casual when a lesser actor would've made one consider getting the remote (or, if one likes watching online, the mouse*). Things happen, you maybe remark, "eh", you await the next one. The second story in "The Black Cat" is the longest of the bunch, lasting roughly 38 minutes, and it actually combines elements of "The Cask of Amontillado" (oh hey, a Poe story I actually did have to read in high school). I think you can see why this one was given the most attention and care, who could resist the charms of seeing Price and Lorre paired up? The scenario is delightful, as they first meet due to a boast after stumbling onto a wine tasting event. The sequence of the two tasting wine (one by the usual sensations in testing and the other in simply drinking the damn thing) is likely the highlight of the film to listen to, honestly. Naturally the partnership cannot last for long, since, well, Lorre is the adversary of the tale with conviction in his coarse nature in reaction to revelations (or imagining things such as a moment where his head is being played around with) and also, well, one little black cat*. By the time he has finished burying people (done in the same way you might be in dealing with cleaning out the sink), it all sounds like it's going to go one way, and it surely does, but the fun is seeing Lorre squirm like an old pro. The final story with "The Facts in the Case of M. Valdmar", lasting roughly 25 minutes, is more of a brief showcase of Rathbone in conman elegance. Nearing his seventies by this point, he just carries the arrogance of hypnosis and would-be plans to take one man's house and maybe eventually figure out what really lies beneath life and death. The only other noted thing in the story is the mud pack to show the decomposition that apparently used a mixture of stuff like glue and makeup paint that was heated and poured for very brief usage due to the heat that probably wasn't a fun thing for Price to go through but it at least looks like it was worth to see on film. As a whole, the movie is filled with one B+/A- (generousness is where your milage is at the time) story and two other stories of that range from either B- to C+ for a pretty decent time depending on your levels of curiosity for what Corman and company sought to do in macabre fun.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Song of the day! 

*Sometimes I have no choice but watch a movie on my laptop/desktop while simultaneously doing some writing. 

*You gotta love the Wikipedia page for the film, which includes an image of cats in "audition" for the film. No, really.

Previous Corman-Poe movies, for those who like easy links to click:

House of Usher - Vincent Price & Mark Damon in a desolate mansion, a family curse and plenty to burn

The Pit and the Pendulum - Price and company in a desolate castle with madness and a cool torture device

The Premature Burial - Ray Milland leads the way in a man gripped by the fear of maybe being buried alive!

Funeral in Berlin.

Review #2562: Funeral in Berlin.

Cast: 
Michael Caine (Harry Palmer), Paul Hubschmid (Johnny Vulkan/Paul Louis Broum), Oskar Homolka (Colonel Stok), Eva Renzi (Samantha Steel), Guy Doleman (Colonel Ross), Hugh Burden (Hallam), Heinz Schubert (Aaron Levine), Wolfgang Völz (Werner), Thomas Holtzmann (Reinhardt), Sarah Brackett (Babcock), Günter Meisner (Otto Kreutzman), and Herbert Fux (Artur) Directed by Guy Hamilton  (#280 - Diamonds Are Forever, #289 - The Man with the Golden Gun, #291 - Goldfinger, #293 - Live and Let Die, #612 - The Devil's Disciple, #2019 - The Ringer [1952])

Review: 

Yes, I suppose it makes sense that Guy Hamilton would be brought in to do work on a Harry Saltzman production with Funeral in Berlin (as based on the Len Deighton book of the same name), which was released the year after the success of The Ipcress File (1965), which Sidney J. Furie had managed to craft a pretty decent spy movie. And yet, Salesman apparently didn't like what Furie did to the point where he went with a familiar face to deliver another Palmer movie. In his 1993 autobiography, Caine described the movie as one where he doubted that the filmmakers managed to capture the "special atmosphere" of the city of Berlin, stating that Hamilton seemed more at home with the Bond movies (hey, I think Goldfinger was the best of the first few of the movies, at least until say, 1969) rather than the "gritty realism" attempted with the Palmer movies*. From 1964 to 1974, Hamilton worked with Saltzman on six films (The Party's Over, released in 1965, was the lone exception of that time period). Interestingly, Hamilton actually had served in a secret unit of the 15th Motor Gunboat Flotilla that brought over agents into France and send down pilots back to England in the second World War (for which he went through certain danger on one occasion) The screenplay was written by Evan Jones, who previously had adapted works into film with The Damned (1962) and Modesty Blaise (1966). The third and final feature film with Caine as Palmer came out with Billion Dollar Brain (as directed by Ken Russell) the following year.

There are aspects that are pretty interesting in dry charm, at least. Sure, it has pretty evident charms and flaws, but it is fairly likable with Caine at the helm with a locale in Berlin that at least seems like a useful capsule for its time. Undeniably, the movie is plagued by basically being a cipher in actually getting to the point of the "intrigue", because it muddles itself for 102 minutes with only a moderately interesting supporting cast and motivations that just aren't as sleek or as icily effective from before. So, what's it all about? Well, through a bit of loitering in the streets of Berlin, one sees an array of not-quite defections, Israeli agents* on a trail, and a motivation to keep some things buried from the light (the title here refers to the would-be smuggling scheme: getting out of East Berlin in a coffin). Caine coasts with the irreverent mannerism of coasting through the machinations of people who all look to get one over another (as if the spy game really is just a game of cons). This was the international debut for Renzi (cast over Anjanette Comer, apparently), who had one other film credit (Playgirl [1966]) to her name, but apparently she was dubbed. So it goes, I guess, because she basically drifts through the film anyway*. Homolka might actually be the most interesting presence in the exuberant, seasoned presence (sure, it's not his story, but, well...). Hubschmid is probably the bigger cipher of the film, trying to be elusive to hide the movie eventually getting to the point (Germans) that is only mildly interesting when paired with Caine. The movie sometimes is interesting with its locale and the bleak scenarios that creep around the corner for a feel that you just wish was a bit tighter with its globe-trot in Berlin. You just want a little more energy amidst the gloom, as one basically drifts through it all. However, if you prefer to see what a spy movie from Hamilton looked like that wasn't merely James Bond, this might be up your alley.

 

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Song of the day!

*Caine also noted in one instance that they were filming near the Wall on a sunny day and border guards with nothing better to do shone mirrors in the lenses that led to the filmmakers moving somewhere else.

*Israeli agent, you say? Don't worry, I don't think I would say anything that would get someone to whine about anti-semitism. Free Palestine?

*Comer married Hubschmid the following year but didn't exactly take off as an actress, even rejecting a role in You Only Live Twice.

You're a Big Boy Now.

Review #2560: You're a Big Boy Now.

Cast: 

Elizabeth Hartman (Barbara Darling), Peter Kastner (Bernard Chanticleer), Geraldine Page (Margery Chanticleer), Rip Torn (I.H. Chanticleer), Tony Bill (Raef del Grado), Julie Harris (Miss Nora Thing), Karen Black (Amy Partlett), Dolph Sweet (Patrolman Francis Graf), Michael Dunn (Richard Mudd), and Michael O'Sullivan (Kurt Doughty) Directed by Francis Ford Coppola (#592 - Dementia 13, #1139 - Supernova, #1460 - Apocalypse Now, #1469 - The Outsiders, #1502 - Bram Stoker's Dracula)

Review:

"You're a Big Boy Now is a flashy movie to some extent. I have since been more subtle than that. But flashy films do attract attention, and that was what I wanted to do when I was making my first film for a studio."

Maybe I haven't been fair to Francis Ford Coppola. The story goes that Coppola wrote a screenplay when working for Seven Arts that was a different take on the "coming of age" movie that was based on the David Benedictus novel You're a Big Boy Now. Coppola had the novel brought to his attention by Tony Bill (incidentally, he wanted to play the lead but also suggested Peter Kastner, because of what he saw in Nobody Waved Good-bye [1964]). He optioned the novel and changed the setting from London to New York City (going from shoe clerk to library assistant) while at the same time working with Gore Vidal on the screenplay for Is Paris Burning? [1966]. Seven Arts, asserting that Coppola's writing of the script on their time meant that they owned it, eventually came to a deal with him that would pay Coppola $8,000 to direct with a 29-day shooting schedule; he used the resulting movie as his thesis at UCLA for his Master of Fine Arts degree. Made on a budget that eventually rose to around $1 million around various locations in New York, the film was not a major success at the time, although it apparently broke even when it was sold to television.* Coppola worked with Warner Bros.-Seven Arts for his next two films with Finian's Rainbow (1968) and The Rain People (1969).

I could not help but think about The Gr-no, wait, not really. Actually, I couldn't get Dementia 13 out of my head when I thought about Coppola and the youthful energy of trying to make a go at filmmaking on a tight schedule and why it felt so much more interesting in that film than with this brash, messy, and altogether curious studio movie. And I then guess someone would compare it to The Graduate, which also was a coming-of-age movie with a young man and the alienation of his parents' generation that was released the following year*. And then I think about the lead character and wonder to myself: why do I hate this little bastard at times? Yes, there are a few hang-ups that actually do prove amusing, but there were almost as many times where I felt the strange desire to wish that Mr. Chanticleer took a nice smack upside on the head, funny as he might be. But you can at least say it is curious enough to free-form its way through an odyssey of someone learning to get a clue in the swinging era of what 1966 surely looked like (complete with peep shows, oddly placed signs*, and, well, pretzels). Amidst the consternation that one might have for some of these ridiculously repressed people, filled with frustrations at times, is an array of interesting performances. Sentimentally, Torn is the one I spring to first (much like oldie songs, I don't have many new favorites), and he actually is pretty funny here as a befuddled parent who thinks they know best in running their son basically like they were a business, complete with their varied responses to the women around them (staid wives, or messing around in a vault with odd books, you get the idea). The journey to get to the inevitable is fairly tolerable in seeing some of the hang-ups play out on screen, whether that involves a man-hating Hartman (to a point*) or the obvious cool loyalty in Black (making her screen debut) or Page in a role that probably could be defined as an amusing "shrew". At least it ends with a chase scene to help crash things down to some sort of reality (namely realizing what really matters between odd duck family and friends). You get a few interesting camera tricks, a few interesting moments looking at a New York movie with a worthy enough soundtrack involving the Lovin' Spoonful. As a whole, it is a strange little time capsule of an older time filled with a few interesting visuals, here-and-there jokes and a general vibe fit for hang-ups and hanger-ons that might be up your alley.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Song of the day!

*I'll be honest, I haven't thought about The Graduate much since I saw it exactly one time...12 years ago. Strange that I didn't feel like strangling Dustin Hoffman's character nearly as much as the one presented here. 

*I couldn't find a direct source, but Coppola stated that his film was definitely influenced by Richard Lester's A Hard Day's Night (1964), as opposed to The Knack... and How to Get It (1965), which was released a few months before Big Boy. Of course, I wish for a direct quote because Coppola also apparently said he hated the movie.

*One sign has the N-word in it that naturally the lead character reads out loud, and no the word is not naive.

*Also, this may come as a surprise, but the Hartman character is depicted as a man-hating narcissist that was shaped by their molestation as a youth that saw them get revenge in a way that totally makes sense: stealing his wooden leg!

The Russians Are Coming the Russians Are Coming.

Review #2544: The Russians Are Coming the Russians Are Coming.

Cast: 

Carl Reiner (Walt Whittaker), Eva Marie Saint (Elspeth Whittaker), Alan Arkin (Lieutenant Rozanov), Brian Keith (Link Mattocks), Jonathan Winters (Norman Jonas), Paul Ford (Fendall Hawkins), Theodore Bikel (Captain), Tessie O'Shea (Alice Foss), John Phillip Law (Alexei Kolchin), Ben Blue (Luther Grilk), Andrea Dromm (Alison Palmer), and Sheldon Collins (Pete Whittaker) Produced and Directed by Norman Jewison (#127 - Rollerball, #273 - The Cincinnati Kid, #544 - In the Heat of the Night, #691 - The Thomas Crown Affair, #1484 - Moonstruck)

Review: 

"I realized then that the film, although made primarily for an American audience, [it] expressed the hopes and fears felt by people in both countries at that period in the Cold War. What the Russians of course couldn't believe, and were blown away by, was the fact that I had been allowed to make the film at all."

Vaguely, I remember this movie being on the consideration list years ago. In the old days of Blockbuster (before people decided Netflix was somehow better*), I remember my dad buying the movie for a rental, but I sure don't remember if he saw it all the way through. Anyway, in the dog days of spring, it feels prudent to cover some of the directors that I haven't really given as much attention as I wish I did. After graduating from middle-ground comedies with The Cincinnati Kid (1965), here comes The Russians Are Coming, the Russians Are Coming (1966), the sixth feature film by Norman Jewison, who also produced the film. In 1963, Jewison was given a book by a friend of his with The Off-Islanders by Nathaniel Benchley. The plot involved a Russian sub accidentally running aground on a New England coast island. Jewison was intrigued about the idea of making a political satire. The Mirisch Corporation and United Artists were interested in financing the film, at least with a good writer behind it. After taking out an option for the novel, Jewison was told by his agent Charlie Baker that the one person who could do the screenplay best was William Rose (writer of such films as The Ladykillers [1955] and It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World [1963]). Aside from having to find a proper conclusion point to the film (namely in the catalyst for both sides to see their similarities), the final draft came around with relatively few bumps in the road, at least when compared to having to make a submarine (the U.S. Navy was not giving one away for filming, with Jewison claiming they made one out of Stryofoam and plywood,, although other sources say they borrowed the one that had been used in Morituri [1965]) and turning the Northern California coast into looking like New England. Released in May 1966 with a budget of nearly $4 million, the movie was a solid hit with audiences, and the film was nominated for four Academy Awards, one for Best Picture.* Jewison followed up the film with In the Heat of the Night (1967) with even further audience attention.

So, you've got a comedy about a few good buffoons all alike on an international level that works best for those who love a silly farce. Sure, the Cold War may be dead and buried now, but you can see the appeal that the film had for people who saw something entertaining in its view of human nature that has a few chuckles within mob mentality, misunderstandings, a unifying moment from an unlikely source and so on. You can mostly understand what goes on with the Russian characters (as played mostly by a group of Americans, although the dialogue director was a Russian with Leon Belasco) without really needing subtitles before it crashes along with the island folk and their own offbeat dreams and delusions (order, being a writer, you name it), with Saint and Keith mostly being the normal ones of the bunch (with kids such as Collins, geez...). Not to knock down Reiner much, but you know Arkin is the highlight pretty early, mainly because he has the confidence and charm to carry the film in all of its odd leanings (namely tomfoolery), and he does so it without straining to go along with the dialogue. You get straight-laced neatness from Keith and a good deal of bubbling annoyance from Winters. Sure, the budding romance between Dromm and Law can only go so far beyond "two cats awkwardly looking at each other", but so it goes. I do like that the climax manages to give the folks a way to come together without straining for a corny message or playing to some cheap cop-out, instead making a pyramid of understanding that beyond the odds and ends of paranoia and maneuvering, there are a few things we'll do with others when things get tough. The 126-minute runtime can be one to trudge along with if you don't go along with all of its frantic misadventures, and I get that, in the same way that I can see someone finding their eyes starting to grow tired in madcap mish-mashes such as say, Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, World. But your milage may vary. As a whole, The Russians Are Coming the Russians Are Coming is a solid enough comedy for its time that will probably work just enough for you to have some enjoyment within the time old (and multi-cultural) comedy of understandings.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Song of the day!

It may interest you to know that the San Antonio Spurs are in the NBA Finals. What a nice time :)

*A physical place to rent or buy movies will always be better than a streaming platform. Duh?

*That year, the nominees were: Alfie, The Sand Pebbles, Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, and the winner...A Man for All Seasons. All four nominations (Jewison for Best Picture, Arkin for Best Actor, Rose for Adapted Screenplay, Hal Ashby & J. Terry Williams for Editing) lost but each ended up being nominated for future efforts, with Ashby, Arkin, and Rose all eventually winning an Academy Award.

Onibaba.

Review #2500: Onibaba.

Cast: 

Nobuko Otowa (Older Woman), Jitsuko Yoshimura (Younger Woman), Kei Satō (Hachi), Taiji Tonoyama (Ushi), and Jūkichi Uno (The masked Samurai warrior) Written and Directed by Kaneto Shindō.

Review: 

"Speaking about Onibaba in particular, my main historical interest focuses on ordinary people . . . their energy to carry themselves beyond the predicaments they encounter daily. I wish to describe the struggles of the so-called common people, which usually never appear in recorded history. This is why I made Onibaba. My mind was always on the commoners, not on the lords, politicians, or anyone of name and fame. I wanted to convey the lives of down-to-earth people who have to live like weeds."

I suppose it's something to be a filmmaker that made nearly 50 movies and lived to be 100. Born in Hiroshima, Kaneto Shindo stepped into films as a teenager when he joined the art section of the Shinko-Kinema studio in Tokyo in 1939. Inevitably, he was later drafted into the Japanese Army, where he served with a squad that saw all but him and five others killed in action. He returned from the war and worked at Shochiku as a script writer that saw him make connections with Kozaburo Yoshimura, who he formed an independent film company with (alongside actor Taiji Tonoyama) called Kindai Eiga Kyōkai. He directed his first film with Story of a Beloved Wife (1951) for Daiei Film, which was loosely based on his first marriage. That film featured Nobuko Otowa as the lead and she ended up starring in numerous Shindo movies. Likely one of his most noted early works came with Children of Hiroshima (1953), which saw him invited by the Japan Teachers Union that was admired enough to be shown at the Cannes Film Festival while ironically also being criticized by the Union for not going further in social criticism. Shindo made a variety of features from the dialogue-less The Baked Island (1960), horror movies such as Kuroneko (1968), biodramas such as The Life of Chikuzan (1977), comedy-dramas such as A Last Note (1995) and movies based on his war experiences such as Postcard (2010), which he did in his nineties; he died of natural causes in 2012 at the age of 100.

I will admit that there was an inkling of doing this film for the horror season last year. No, really. Some people might call it a stage drama or a period drama, and sure, some people can go with that, but it basically is a horror movie within the confines of masks and erotic nature (besides, horror deniers always want to call things "dramas" and "thrillers" with this or Les Diaboliques because they don't have guts). The horrors that lie within outcasts and the craven nature of trying to survive is one that seems timeless regardless of it being the 14th century or modern times. Shindo was inspired by a Shin Buddhist parable that he heard as a child (referred to as yome-odoshi-no men/niku-zuki-no-men), which involved a demon mask and, well, women. Apparently, the effects of the mask on who wears it was supposed to be symbolic of the disfigurement of the victims of the atomic bombings. But here we are with something where a group of scavengers must confront the most real thing of all: sex. It is such a dazzlingly haunting film to see the amoral qualities explode like ice, complete with having such a devastating look on the prairie and the people who live and die on it. It should be noted that the age difference between Otowa and Yoshimura was just 19 years. And yet each pull off tremendous performances, particularly with Otowa, who manages to evoke the feeling that arises from being one of flesh and blood with obvious desires even wrapped in the isolation of the reeds. Consider how she handles seeing the younger woman entwined with a newly arrived man in Satō (who plays it so well in smarmy charm) and clings on to a tree, for example. The 102 minutes rolls along with deliberate pacing that rewards those who like icy composition and even colder tension before the demon mask comes into play, which basically serves as a sort of curse for all involved. Admittedly, the ending is a bit quizzical, mainly because it just...ends. I suppose it makes sense to go with ambiguity that has a pit that might as well be purgatory for the lead characters that they just can't escape. As a horror drama, this is a pretty damn good one to let sift through you with a worthwhile chilly experience.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Yes, that's right, 2,500 reviews - you may remember Movie Night cracked 2,000 on April 20, 2023. Only so many reviews to go to 3,000.

Come Drink with Me.

Review #2498: Come Drink with Me.

Cast: 

Cheng Pei-pei ("Golden Swallow" Zheng), Yueh Hua ("Drunken Cat" Fan Da-pei), Chan Hung-lit (Jade-Faced Tiger), Lee Wan-chung ("Smiling-Tiger" Tsu Kan), Yeung Chi-hing (Abbot Liao Kung), Wong Chung (Zheng Bi-qiu), Shum Lo ("Number Five", bandit), and Wang Ruo-Ping ("Baldie", bandit) Directed by King Hu.

Review: 

Sure, let's pick at least one perceived Hong Kong classic. Well, actually King Hu was born in Beijing to an affluent family that had an interest in Peking opera from a young age more than movies. He moved to Hong Kong (then under British rule) in 1949 that found him take a variety of odd jobs, one of which was with set design. By the mid-1950s, he was appearing as an actor in films but eventually found his way working with the Shaw Brothers and their noted studio, which saw him take on assistant duties with films such as The Love Eterne (1963). Hu became a director with Sons of the Good Earth (1965). However, Come Drink with Me (1966) ended up being the one with noted success. this film was written by Hu and Ting Shan-hsi; the decision to cast Cheng Pei-pei in the film was because of her background in dance and ballet in what was her breakout role. In 1968, Cheng reprised her role in Golden Swallow, which had Jimmy Wang as co-star that was directed by Chang Cheh. Hu left the Shaws and travelled aboard to direct that resulted in roughly a dozen movies of varying cult curiosity, whether that involved Taiwan with classics such as Dragon Inn (1966) and his cult classic A Touch of Zen (1970-71) or South Korea with Raining in the Mountain (1979). Hu directed on-and-off all the way until Painted Skin (1992); he died in 1997 at the age of 64. Films such as Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (which happened to have Cheng in a supporting role) are reported to have taken influence from Hu's films.

Okay I guess I forgot to mention the movie is called a "wuxia" for its genre, which basically is an adventure with martial arts and also elements of historical fantasy, which is, well, why you see swords and stuff.* Honestly, I wish I liked the movie more, but a solid 7 is still a solid film to seek out. The action that comes through basically is timed to rhythm that would basically qualify as a crowd-pleaser for 91 minutes, right down to its blend of studio sets and frontier viewing. You get a little musical interlude to go along with the proceedings, which basically go about the way you might expect in terms of good vs. evil. I suppose it will mean a good deal more for those familiar with opera or zen or, well, those who know their Mandarin. But one appreciates the editing and positioning to make the action feel enough like it is coming from a certain kind of quickness to really pop out to you. The best parts of the film basically are the staging of the action more so than the characters themselves, mainly because at a certain point it becomes more focused on Yueh rather than Cheng, although at least you get a sense that both are trying to maintain that sense of balance in trying to not be consumed by violence, at least when compared to Chan and Lee. The first half basically holds it together a bit more in curiosity (gee, a drunken master, I wonder) than the second half, arguably. It is relatively charming as a movie to see eventually play out, I just wish it was a bit more focused with its characters, although at least the climax is swift enough to let the film close on a relatively high note. As a whole, Come Drink with Me has a certain kind of appeal for those who like a bit of mystical charm within their action movies that rolls with rhythm and the energy to make the entertainment just click in a way that doesn't seem antiquated.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

*There are essays about Hu and wuxia that might be more helpful in you are curious: Hu, King – Senses of Cinema

Or, alternatively, if you like reviews of stuff in horror or action from a source definitely more experienced: http://www.1000misspenthours.com/reviews/reviewsa-d/comedrinkwithme.htm Never let it be said that I don't try to recommend others

Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines.

Review #2492: Those Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines or How I Flew from London to Paris in 25 Hours and 11 Minutes.

Cast: 

Stuart Whitman (Orvil Newton), Sarah Miles (Patricia Rawnsley), James Fox (Richard Mays), Alberto Sordi (Count Emilio Ponticelli), Robert Morley (Lord Rawnsley), Gert Fröbe (Colonel Manfred von Holstein), Jean-Pierre Cassel (Pierre Dubois), Irina Demick (Brigitte, Ingrid, Marlene, Françoise, Yvette, Betty), Red Skelton (Neanderthal Man, Roman Birdman, Middle Ages Inventor, Victorian-era Pilot, Rocket Pack Inventor, Modern Airline Passenger), Terry-Thomas (Sir Percy Ware-Armitage), Eric Sykes (Courtney), Benny Hill (Fire Chief Perkins), Yūjirō Ishihara (Yamamoto; voice dubbed by James Villiers), Flora Robson (Mother Superior), Karl Michael Vogler (Captain Rumpelstrosse), Sam Wanamaker (George Gruber), and Tony Hancock (Harry Popperwell)

Directed by Ken Annakin.

Review:

Sure, let's talk about another vehicle-heavy movie from 1965. The impetus for making the film came from Ken Annakin's interest in aviation from a young age, as he apparently was taken up by Sir Alan Cobham in a biplane once. Born in Beverly, East Riding of Yorkshire in England, he decided to forgo being an income tax inspector (like his dad wanted) to travel around the world doing a variety of jobs, whether that was stage manager of a travelling roadshow or working as a firefighter in the outbreak of World War II. He was a member of the Royal Air Force as a flight mechanic before an injury during the Blitz saw him join their Film Unit to work as a camera operator. He worked for directors such as Carol Reed on documentaries for several years. After the war ended, he made some documentaries with Sydney Box before being assigned to his first feature with Holiday Camp (1947), which started his career off handily well. He made a variety of features on a regular basis, whether that involved stuff such as segments for the W. Somerset Maugham anthology movies Quartet (1948) and Trio (1950), a handful of movies for Disney such as The Story of Robin Hood and His Merrie Men (1952) or his personal favorite film, Across the Bridge (1957) or exteriors for epics such as The Longest Day (1962). As was the case with Longest Day, Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines was a 20th Century Fox production. Released in June of 1965, the movie was a general success. Annakin wrote the film with Jack Davies, and they received the film's only Academy Award nomination for its screenplay (the first and only time either man was up said award). A follow-up of sorts to Flying Machines came with Monte Carlo or Bust (1969) for Paramount, which shares a few cast members from this film*. all the way to his seventies with The New Adventures of Pippi Longstocking (1988) and did work on a Genghis Khan film that never got off the ground in the 1990s. He died in 2009 at the age of 94.

One thing is for sure: it is handily better than that other epic of the year that involved a big cast and intriguing visuals trying to be funny with The Great Race (right down to the ending being less of a copout). Of course, this is the kind of movie I suppose you really would like better in seeing planes go up rather than the overall humor of the movie, which is only a few notches higher than "hit or miss" for a movie set in 1910 that aims to be a farce involving the quirks of early flight for British currency (hey 10,000 of their "pounds" in 1910 is equal to about 100 times that nowadays) and actual period-accurate life-sized working aero planes. They are surely a sight to see, and the general view one gets from the film when it comes to the flying is actually quite nice to look at. It might seem bloated at around 138 minutes, which doesn't account for the intermission (that lasts around six minutes) or the introduction to the film involving the history of flying+credits (also six minutes). But its a movie with slapstick and shenanigans when studios wanted to give people something to really go to the theater to see rather than staying home for TV, so there it goes. There isn't one really great performance in the film, but there are a few handy little moments from the folks, such as a folksy Whitman (chosen because Dick Van Dyke never got the offer from his agent) providing a few chuckles as one might do in American spirit or the blustery confidence that arises from Frobe and the obvious cad nature from Terry-Thomas. Morley dominates the British stuffy spirit probably a bit more than Fox, but I think you get what they are going for. You get a sense that the drive to fly was a noble one for those who really had the drive to do so while also realizing that one has to be a bit of a nut to really go out there and fly across any sort of environment for any sort of time (I can count the amount of times I've been on a plane on exactly one hand, and none in the last 14 years)*. Of course, dwelling on the race itself isn't really the point when you've got people engaging in a duel with balloons to go with everyone getting in their stereotypes (when you've got the British involved, that almost goes without saying), complete with one scene having a plane get fixed by a bunch of nuns all in the name of making sure a Catholic wins. The title song is, well, a charmer too. As a whole, it is clear that this was a worthwhile passion project for Annakin and company to show a few interesting visuals with planes and the countryside that makes for a leisurely good time for those in the spirit of what ends up in the air. It just might fly right for you too.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

*Specifically, Terry-Thomas, Gert Fröbe and Eric Sykes returned for the movie, which in America was known as "Those Daring Young Men in Their Jaunty Jalopies". Annakin and Davies wrote the film together. Incidentally, the theme from Flying Machines apparently was played during the funeral of Terry-Thomas in 1990.

*Even recognizing the history of flight can be full of nuts. Annakin wanted a Wright Flyer in the film and therefore got a Bristol that happened to have a common layout with the plane. The Smithsonian Institution actually had a long running dispute with the Wright brothers about putting the original Flyer (there were three Flyers) on display because they wanted to honor one of their former secretaries that had his own tests with flying in Samuel Pierpont Langely's Aerodrome before the Flyer finally was put in the Smithsonian in 1948, 45 years after the historic flight on December 17, 1903. Incidentally, that plane flew a total of four times in its lifetime, with the longest flight being over 800 feet in just under a minute. 

Black Sunday (1960).

Review #2468: Black Sunday.

Cast: 

Barbara Steele (Asa Vajda/Katia Vajda), John Richardson (Dr. Andrej Gorobec), Andrea Checchi (Dr. Choma Kruvajan), Ivo Garrani (Prince Vajda), Arturo Dominici (Igor Javutich), Enrico Olivieri (Constantine Vajda), Tino Bianchi (Ivan, the Vajdas' Manservant), Antonio Pierfederici (Priest), Clara Bindi (Innkeeper), Mario Passante (Nikita, the Coachman), Renato Terra (Boris, the Vajdas' Stableman), and Germana Dominici (Sonya, the Innkeeper's Daughter) Directed by Mario Bava (#792 - Black Sabbath)

Review: 

I have to admit that I haven't covered as much Italian horror (in its native language, preferably) as I possibly could. Mario Bava actually wanted to be a painter in his youth, but he found that following in his father Eugenio's footsteps of cameraman was his best option, serving as an assistant working on special effects in the late 1930s. Bava was approached by his friend Riccardo Freda about the idea of developing a horror film one day, which led to I Vampiri (1957), a movie Bava was to shoot and provide special effects for. However, he was thrust into the director's chair for the final two days of production when Freda left production, which had Bava come up with a new ending and include stock footage. There were other movies where Bava did work you could consider directorial work, such as The Day the Sky Exploded (1958), where actor accounts said he directed it more than the credited directed Paulo Heusch. There was also Jacques Tourneur's The Giant of Marathon (1959), a film Bava shot but had to do reshoots for exterior scenes because apparently there were moments where you could see extras smoking on camera. And then of course there was Caltiki – The Immortal Monster (1959), a sci-fi horror movie with dubious accounts over who really directed it between Bava and Freda, the latter of whom left in the middle of production. But Black Sunday [La maschera del demonio] was his formal debut as a director. Galatea, fresh off peddling movies such as the sword-and-sandal Hercules films, wanted to get another movie for the markets abroad and went with Bava, who wanted to make a horror film because of the recent success of Terence Fisher's Dracula (1957). He chose to base it on the novella "Viy", as written by Nikolai Gogol in 1835. Bava would do a variety of films in the horror genre to varying success, such as The Girl Who Knew Too Much [1963] & Blood and Black Lace [1964] (each considered among the early ones in the giallo genre), Planet of the Vampires [1965] (which some have compared to Alien [1979]), the action/crime comic movie Danger: Diabolik [1968], A Bay of Blood [1971] (likely his most violent movie). Bava's last completed film was with Shock [1977]; he died of a sudden heart attack in 1980 at the age of 65. 

American International bought the movie for the States release and did a re-dub with a few changes to the character names. Known as "La maschera del demonio" in its native country, AIP went with "Black Sunday" for the American title. There is an eerie sense of intrigue that comes with this film from the get-go of its 87-minute runtime. The opening in particular manages to intrigue the viewer closely with its imagery and sheer audacity (masks with spikes on the inside to hammer inside the evil beings). Steele has the double act that you sometimes get with costume dramas: the evil being filled with ambition and yet trapped to a specific place and the unfortunate reincarnation lookalike who can't quite catch a break. Steele became a star in various Italian movies because of the film, which she said "was probably the best of that genre of film I've made...but anybody could have been playing that girl." I think she sold herself a bit short here, there is just something to the way she moves and says her lines that manages an otherworldly feel of odd elegance. One has an unsettled feeling when watching the film at times when it comes what does get shown (sure, the other actors are mildly fine, but that's how it does sometimes). As a whole, Black Sunday has managed to attract so much interest over the years because of the sheer power you can feel in its bones of atmosphere that crisscross with elements of effective gore (such as the parts involving blood). There is something about how the movie feels and acts that you just didn't see back then that just manages to stay as unsettling and dazzling as it did back in 1960. You'll have an interesting treat on your hands with this film or other Bava movies, that's for sure.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

On tap to close out 7 Days of the Week After Halloween, as per tradition, a doubleheader: 

Mayhem / Suitable Flesh

Jigoku.

Review #2442: Jigoku.

Cast: 

Shigeru Amachi (Shirō Shimizu), Yōichi Numata (Tamura), Utako Mitsuya (Yukiko Yajima and Sachiko Taniguchi), Hiroshi Izumida (Kyōichi "Tiger" Shiga), Kiyoko Tsuji (Kyōichi's mother), Akiko Ono (Yoko), Hiroshi Hayashi (Gōzō Shimizu), Kimie Tokudaij (Ito Shimizu), Jun Ōtomo (Ensai Taniguchi), Akiko Yamashita (Kinuko), Torahiko Nakamura (Professor Yajima), Fumiko Miyata (Mrs. Yajima), Tomohiko Ōtani (Dr. Kusama), Kōichi Miya (Journalist Akagawa), Hiroshi Shinguji (as Hiroshi Shingûji) (Detective Hariya), Sakutarō Yamakawa (the Fisherman), and Kanjūrō Arashi (Lord Enma, the King of Hell) Directed by Nobuo Nakagawa.

Review: 

It does sometimes help to pick a horror movie from a studio that just let things twist in the wind. This was actually the last film to be produced by the studio Shintoho. The studio had come around in the late 1940s because of defectors that came from a strike within Toho. They produced movies such as Akira Kurosawa's Stray Dog (1949) but could not exactly compete with the big studios. In the last years of their run before becoming bankrupt, they pumped out a good deal of cheap period ghost movies and sci-fi movies. One of the directors brought on to do a few of those movies was Nobuo Nakagawa. He actually had been directing movies since the 1930s, having risen from amateur film review writing to working in film production. He did comedies, war documentaries, thrillers, and a small amount of ghost/horror movies to go along with work for television, and he directed all the way until near his death in 1984 at the age of 79. The Ghost of Yotsuya (1959) is likely the other movie he is known for. For this film (also known as The Sinners from Hell), he wrote the screenplay with Ichirō Miyagawa. As Miyagawa explained in an interview years later, the two were engaged in a discussion about the "Plank of Carneades" thought experiment in which if one would be of guilty of murder if they pushed a person off a plank to save themselves that happened to coincide with hearing a TV report of a fisherman catching fish in the Tama River that he sold to people rather than eating it due to fears of it being poisoned. One thing leads to another in then talking about Faust and alter egos and having the question asked about having an idea in mind and boom, the two got to work (apparently, the one question the studio had is where the heaven was, since the original mandate was to make a script called "Heaven and Hell" so Miyagawa joked the sequel would be about heaven). The movie was remade in 1979 by Tatsumi Kumashiro and apparently a remake was done in 1999 with Jigoku: Japanese Hell by Teruo Ishii*.

Hell or no hell, you get a visually entertaining time watching this movie eventually unfold the deck of cards that arise in punishment for the wicked. Hell isn't just a realm of torture, it can also be the things that are seen every day on here itself. There are plenty of worthy shots to appreciate and examine in detail for a movie that might as well be a canvas of suffering. The hell sequences take up roughly 40 minutes of the 100-minute runtime, and you have to understand that the movie is basically a morality play, complete with how it is staged. You know how much the actors cared? In the scenes you see of actors in dirt (on a soundstage with no props but plenty of dirt to dig), the actors themselves dug the holes. Of course, when you have a cheap movie, you can do shots with a washtub, a mirror, a stirrer and some colors and make it look like, well, something you can believe in. This also goes for "Needle Hell", which just goes with plastic and lighting to, well, make a place look like a place. It is a disorientating movie to experience and honestly, it is darkly funny if you think about it. You have a guy who has one little thing (being the passenger to a car accident) spring consequence among consequence to the people he ends up encountering from that point on, whether that involves people that fall off bridges, folks getting poisoned from sake, double-strangulation, and people committing suicide. Sure, the people in the movie are, well, people that probably deserve hell, but screw it, I enjoy seeing the strange qualities that come with weird people all getting the curtain thrust upon them. It's like a soap opera but where everyone dies (with one consolation, anyway). 

And then of course there is the whole "hell" thing, presented with bits of gore in illustrating the type of punishment that takes inspiration from Buddhist ideas about hell. Technically speaking, Amachi and Numata are meant to be playing the sides of a coin, with the latter stating that Nakagawa told him that it was "about the outside and inside of a person" (like Faust). Numata was not entirely satisfied with his performance, but I find him to be a very curious presence in this film, since there are certain sequences where he just arises out of the blue like a dark cloud that can only lead to trouble that he handles with odd charm. He looms with a knowing presence of decay that we can see in all of us. Our temptations and the decisions that come from acting on (or not) those things make us who we are and, to those with the soul to do so, where we may end up. The movie sees a bunch of people who made a few choices for themselves rather than others and says, yep, you are all fit for down under. The filmmakers theorized that if it is hard to show psychological torment on screen, you might as well make it a graphic metaphor, although its mechanisms of plight do have an abrupt end in the closing. Sure, it is a crude film that probably won't win everyone over with its pacing at times, but it sure is a devilishly curious time to at least encounter once. It takes its time to really get the footing going, but if you buy into its little play before the showstopping pits of hell, the trip (not literally) will surely be worth it.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

*Speaking of names that might merit consideration down the line. And, oddly enough, Kiyoshi Kurosawa, because I found a Criterion video about Jigoku that featured him talking about the movie. New Directors Month 2026?