The Premature Burial.

Review #2434: The Premature Burial.

Cast:  

Ray Milland (Guy Carrell), Heather Angel (Kate Carrell, Guy's Sister), Hazel Court (Emily Gault, Guy's Wife), Alan Napier (Dr. Gideon Gault), Richard Ney (Miles Archer), John Dierkes (Sweeney), Dick Miller ("Mole"), Clive Halliday (Judson), and Brendan Dillon (Clergyman)

Produced and 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)

Review: 

Apparently, when Roger Corman was making films for American International Pictures, there came a time to settle differences of his fee with a coin toss. He and Samuel Z. Arkoff would flip a coin...and Arkoff won a handful of times that made Corman interested to venture for himself. He went to Pathe Lab to try and finance a film, since they did their own print work and financed a few AIP movies. He got Charles Beaumont and Ray Russell to do the script but had to go with Ray Milland for the lead due to Vincent Price being in an exclusive AIP contract. And then...AIP arrived on the first day of production to say that they were now partners on this film, as they leveraged the position of not having any more lab work to become partners on what became this film. While the movie made some money with audiences, Corman reflected later that the response meant that the formula "had to be varied." The next "Poe Cycle" movie was Tales of Terror (1962), released four months later that was an anthology feature with Price and other noted names. The movie is inspired by the short story of the same name, as written by Edgar Allan Poe in 1844 that had an unnamed narrator with fears of being buried alive with "catalepsy" that tries to cope with the phobia...although that story ends with one ending their obsession with death.

It isn't a forgettable movie, but it definitely is one that shows strain. It may interest you to know that Milland was an Academy Award winning actor, having previously won it for The Lost Weekend (1945). The Welsh actor had a lengthy career, and he was more than happy to be a character actor in his later years with the occasional lead or two, as one might recognize him from AIP's 1963 classic (at least that's how I remember it) X: The Man with the X-ray Eyes (1963); Milland acted until shortly before his death in 1986 at the age of 79. Unfortunately, The Premature Burial is not among his highlights, mainly because the movie does not give him to really do. It isn't merely a case of the movie needing the services of Price (four years younger than Milland, although each was already in their fifties by 1962), it just seems like a movie that is trying to coast on what you already saw from the last two Poe AIP movies and flailing. You want to see a worthy tragedy, you want to see something that could inspire anxiety and curiosity, but Milland can only do so much for a movie that doesn't really have a mystery or tragedy to it. You could almost pick a random actor from Milland's heyday to do this and possibly still have the same effect. It does not help that Court and Ney have absolutely nothing to contribute for what is meant to be a curiosity: a woman who wants to associate with a guy who believes he is doomed and a doctor in the middle of looking at his mental state. But they don't really stick in your mind for anything other than "okay". The sense of doom just seems like the previous two Poe movies but with diminishing returns besides the cemetary maybe being a different angle to look at this time. The dream sequence might be the most noted sequence in the whole film (which only runs at 81 minutes anyway) because it seems lurid and eerie in ways that actually makes one wonder where the rest of the energy went. The movie just isn't as fun as it really could be, managing to be a bit too cozy to really make anyone get chills for something that could've been a fun mystery or a look at a strange person. As it stands, it isn't a bad movie, but it just isn't accomplished enough to really recommend when there are better things elsewhere.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

War Hunt.

Review #2421: War Hunt.

 

Cast: 

John Saxon (Private Raymond Endore), Robert Redford (Private Roy Loomis), Charles Aidman (Captain Wallace Pratt), Sydney Pollack (Master Sergeant Owen Van Horn), Tommy Matsuda (Charlie), Gavin MacLeod (Private Crotty), Anthony Ray (Private Joshua Fresno), Tom Skerritt (Sergeant Stan Showalter), and William Challee (Lieutenant Colonel) Directed by Denis Sanders.

Review: 

Yes, there are plenty of starts to highlight when talking about a film. This was a breakthrough of sorts for three people: this was the first credited role for Robert Redford, and it was also the film debuts for Sydney Pollack and Tom Skerritt. Now, who directed it? Well, this was the second feature film directed by Denis Sanders, who had done a handful of short films, which included A Time Out of War (1955), which not only served as his master's degree thesis at UCLA but also won an Academy Award for Best Short Subject. That movie got the attention of Charles Laughton, who hired them to work on The Night of the Hunter [1955] (Terry as a second unit director, Denis as a dialogue director). The brothers worked on further films such as Crime and Punishment U.S.A. With War Hunt, it was made as part of a deal between United Artists and the Sanders brothers. The two did a handful of documentaries over the next few decades, with Denis winning an Academy Award for Best Documentary Short Subject with Czechoslovakia 1968 (1969) while Terry co-produced the Academy Award winning Maya Lin: A Strong Clear Vision (1994). The writer of the film was Stanford Whitmire, a regular writer on television shows and TV movies for many years. I suppose it might be interesting to note that Francis Ford Coppola drove a truck in the film.

Sure, a war movie can be pretty dour, and it probably isn't up to the level of say, The Steel Helmet (1951), but War Hunt is a curious movie to engage with, one that wonders aloud just what the hell is one going to do after it isn't so easy to go around killing the enemy in war. Well, as one does when set near the armistice of the Korea War. Sure, it is evident to see where it is more "low budget" than just being a "carefully composed drama" that happens to be a bit light on the action side. But it is a solid film of the soul, crafting itself well with an offbeat sense of patience and a worthy ensemble that you could at least call a solid find to maybe check out in long odds, complete with having a resourceful look from (prior Academy Award nominee) Ted McCord. At this point, Saxon had been a "teen idol" with films such as Rock, Pretty Baby (1956) and The Happy Feeling (1958) before doing other sorts of roles with The Unforgiven (1960). Here he gets to play an offbeat soldier that manages to give off an unnerving vibe without having to say many words that is weirdly fascinating, even when considering the stilted nature of what really drives his dynamic with Matsuda (an orphan reminds him of old times?). Redford had attended (and was expelled from) the University of Colorado in Boulder and soon traveled a bit before taking up work in the stage in the late 1950s. He did a handful of television appearances, but this is the first film he did in what was a long career before his death just this month. The toils of idealism in the face of actual combat are probably a bit obvious for anyone to portray, but Redford at least shows some promise that obviously would get meatier material to really sink in. In general, it is a movie that comes and goes for 83 minutes with familiar routines that look upon the people fated to kill or be killed and finds that some really will just wander into their own world even when the target is soon to be washed away. In a sea of movies dwelling in the action of war, sometimes you might find something in the low-key type of movie pile here.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

*I couldnt make the whole review about the actor debuts, so here is a note. Sydney Pollack actually started as an actor in the 1950s with theater work while dabbling in truck driving before he became influenced to direct when working as a dialogue coach on The Young Savages (1961) but dabbled in acting for films here. Then you've got Skerritt being noticed for a production of The Rainmaker (when at UCLA) by Sanders. But I suppose the reason this movie was picked was for Redford. RIP.

Cape Fear (1962).

Review #2336: Cape Fear.

Cast: 

Gregory Peck (Sam Bowden), Robert Mitchum (Max Cady), Polly Bergen (Peggy Bowden), Lori Martin (Nancy Bowden), Martin Balsam (Mark Dutton), Jack Kruschen (Dave Grafton), Telly Savalas (Charlie Sievers), and Barrie Chase (Diane Taylor) Directed by J. Lee Thompson.

Review: 

Yes, even British directors can fall in and out of "social realism" films to do some adventures. Actually, I had assumed I had covered a film by J. Lee Thompson before, but as it turns out, Thompson's wide variety of films had slipped thought the cracks. He actually had an interest in plays before becoming a screenwriter with at British International Pictures (after spending time in the Royal Air Force in World War II). He had worked as a dialogue director on a handful of films (one included Jamaica Inn [1939]) before finally becoming a feature director with Murder Without Crime (1950). Thompson's most noted effort of the first few years probably was Woman in a Dressing Gown (1957), which dealt with a failing marriage. However, he became an action guy with Ice Cold in Alex (1958) that saw him reach a peak with The Guns of Navarone (1961), which came about because Alexander Mackendrick got replaced late. Described as a director who "sort of sold out", Thompson would work in a variety of film and TV that ranged from directing the fourth and fifth film of the Planet of the Apes series to other fare like Happy Birthday to Me (1981) and nine Charles Bronson vehicles that closed his career with Kinjite: Forbidden Subjects (1989). Thompson died in 2002 at the age of 88. At any rate, Cape Fear is adapted from the 1957 novel The Executioners, as written by John D. MacDonald in 1957. Peck and his production company had purchased the rights to the book not long after it came out, and the experience he had with Thompson on Navarone got him to hire him to direct the ensuing film (it was Peck that suggested the film title, apparently believing the book title was a "turn-off", where upon he looked up places on the Atlantic coast and found the Cape Fear region in North Carolina). The movie was written by James R. Webb, the writer for various screenplays such as Vera Cruz (1953) and The Big Country (1958). Naturally, a remake was done in 1991 (by Martin Scorsese, no less). Interestingly, both film adaptations are distinct in their freewheeling from the book that ranged from the time spent in jail (13 in the book, 8 in this film, and 14 in the 1991 movie), the nature of Bowden's relation to Cady (one as a witness to Cady's crime during wartime, a witness as a prosecutor, or as a defense attorney to Cady). Peck, Mitchum, and Balsam also made small appearances in the remake.

For whatever reason, audiences of the time seemed to be a bit weirded out at the rough-and-tumble elements of a thriller movie because, uh, even a movie that doesn't say the word "rape" could be thought of as a tough sit. Nowadays, one just sees a movie filled with impending terror that makes the best of its Hitchcock ambitions (why else would one have Bernard Herrmann for the music) for a pretty neat thriller. Peck may be a bit overshadowed here, but he maintains the general dignity that comes with trying to maintain a grip on one's principles (so not a saint but clear in his motivations). His onscreen family with Bergen and Martin sell that shaky dynamic that arise in growing ugliness that one is exposed to that is sold well. Balsam and the others are relatively on point in filling the edges in the growing claustrophobia (incidentally, this was released the same year that a relatively young Savalas was nominated for an Oscar for Birdman of Alcatraz [1962]). Undeniably, Mitchum is the star here, and it was said that he took the role only when he was gifted a bottle of bourbon (his other best-known role in malice is probably The Night of the Hunter [1955], incidentally). You can just feel the malice ooze from him in each scene he appears in, mostly because his contempt for Peck shines ever so brightly in general menace. He maneuvers around like a snake awaiting a target to strike with its fangs that perhaps is just as unnerving in his maneuvering that dominates the first half of the film, whether it involves the legal system or, well, people. You just have to experience the slime for yourself, particularly the sequence with the eggs. The sequence he shares with Peck prior to the climax involving the extent of where one would go in single-minded pursuit is especially a standout. The climax is relatively fine when it comes to setting up the entrapment for a queasy mood, albeit within the confines of what you might expect from its era. As a whole, it is a fairly tight thriller that hits most of the beats required in rough enjoyment with star value and a worthy look to accompany it in thrilling execution. 

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

How the West Was Won.

Review #2228: How the West Was Won.

Cast (i.e. who features most prominently in each segment)

"The Rivers" segment: James Stewart (Linus Rawlings), Carroll Baker (Eve Prescott), Debbie Reynolds (Lilith Prescott), Karl Malden (Zebulon Prescott), Agnes Moorehead (Rebecca Prescott), Walter Brennan (Col. Jeb Hawkins), and Brigid Bazlen (Dora Hawkins) Directed by Henry Hathaway (#1314 - True Grit and #1687 - O. Henry's Full House)

"The Plains" segment: Debbie Reynolds (Lilith Prescott), Gregory Peck (Cleve Van Valen), Robert Preston (Roger Morgan), Thelma Ritter (Agatha Clegg), and David Brian (Lilith's attorney) Directed by Henry Hathaway.

"The Civil War" segment: George Peppard (Zeb Rawlings), Andy Devine (Corporal Peterson), Harry Morgan (Gen. Ulysses S. Grant), John Wayne (Gen. William Tecumseh Sherman), Russ Tamblyn (Confederate deserter), Carroll Baker (Eve Prescott Rawlings), and Raymond Massey (President Abraham Lincoln) Directed by John Ford (#398 - The Last Hurrah, #1324 - 3 Bad Men, #1349 - Stagecoach, #1372 - Fort Apache, #1392 - The Searchers, #1409 - The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, #1778 - 3 Godfathers, #1827 - Tobacco Road)

"The Railroad" segment: Henry Fonda (Jethro Stuart), George Peppard (Zeb Rawlings), and Richard Widmark (Mike King) Directed by George Marshall (#650 - The Ghost Breakers)

"The Outlaws" segment: George Peppard (Zeb Rawlings), Lee J. Cobb (Marshal Lou Ramsey), Eli Wallach (Charlie Gant), Carolyn Jones (Julie), Debbie Reynolds (Lilith Prescott van Valen), and Mickey Shaughnessy (Deputy Stover) Directed by Henry Hathaway

With Spencer Tracy (Narrator).

Review: 

Yes, there was a union between Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer and Cinerama. MGM had plenty of success with making epics that attracted folks to not just go with television such as, say, Ben-Hur (1959), so it makes sense to say that there was two films distributed by MGM involving another big-related process in film. The Wonderful World of the Brothers Grimm was released in the three-strip Cinerama process in August of 1962 before November saw the release of How the West Was Won, which apparently took inspiration from a series of articles by Life magazine (take one guess what the title of those articles was) that was first published in 1959. As one might remember, Cinerama (as invented by Fred Waller) was a process involving widescreen with a considerably distinct presence: three projectors projecting images onto a curved screen (the panoramic image on a screen curved 146 degrees around the front of an audience. This Is Cinerama (1954) was the showcase that rocked folks as a grand travelogue; as one might notice, trying to shoot actors with this setup was tough when it comes to sightlines and requiring plenty of detail dressing of clothing for sets. Hathaway was quoted famously as calling it "Goddamn Cinerama" (along with calling it "nothing but a big window display") when noting the fact that the closest as one could get with the process was a waist shot; because of the wide view, one apparently couldn't watch the actors without somehow being in the shot. Bottom line, one would see various films done in varying levels of camera lenses such as Ultra Panavision 70 to Super Panavision 70, as Cinerama became single camera for later films such as It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (1963). At any rate, here we have a big Western covering various moments of the Old West for MGM, with directors chosen specifically because they were "old pros" (as opposed to "no young geniuses", as quoted by producer Bernard Smith); Ford and Marshall had directed films since the late 1910s while Hathaway started in 1932 before each director eventually ended their careers by the turn of the 1960s into 1970. Going by the word of Hathaway, production was semi-rough, owing to both the Cinerama filming process and (in his words), "an idiot for a producer" to the point where production almost ended before the filming of the fifth and final segment; he also claimed to write the second segment of the film, as he was originally brought in to help with scripting problems, although the final print listed James R. Webb as the only screenwriter. The movie was a roaring success and has a pretty good reputation for itself among epics, particularly since one can watch it on home video (since the 21st century) with pretty good restoration (as one must do when it comes to making screens look whole).

There are plenty of peaks and valleys with this film, most of which come from the fact that the quality of enjoyment comes and goes depending on which segment one is on in the 164-minute epic. The opening segment has a near sixty-year-old Stewart playing a guy meant to be 28, while Reynolds and Peppard are the only actors in the most segments (three) to go with borrowing footage from The Alamo [1960] and needing four cinematographers. You get plenty to see in this endurance round of anthology action: river pirates, rapids, wagon attacks, a John Wayne cameo, stampedes, and a railroad attack all in one. It is pretty much Hathaway's film to hold court involving drive and desire in the frontier, as the Civil War and railroad segments (as done by Ford and Marshall) don't exactly rise too far above stagy scenario-making (apparently, Hathaway did re-shots for the railroad segment). The first two segments are probably the strongest in terms of general construction, even if one is always seeing the strain of trying to make a worthwhile epic that has to rely on plenty of pictorial views and a bit of bombastic acting (as one might see coming when having to deal with weird cameras) to go with the motions. The third segment is mostly set around the aftermath of the Battle of Shiloh that has brief moments in the start and finish involving the Rawlings family farm. Most of it though...is a couple of folks listening to a conversation of two U.S. generals (William Tecumseh Sherman and Ulysses S. Grant). Apparently, Spencer Tracy was once tapped to play Grant, but this eventually washed away to just have him provide the narration from time to time. As tempting as it is to wonder how cool it would've been to see Tracy and Wayne on the same screen...it probably wouldn't have made it any less stagey, because really it isn't as involving as it could've been. Regardless of the detail taken for costuming (again, one had to be careful and not skimp in front of those Cinerama cameras), it just comes up feeling hollow for actual interest because you know you've seen (and heard) Wayne and Morgan in better Westerns. The fourth segment and fifth are pretty mild on each count, but at least the latter segment has the railroad spectacle to let the film coast on a good note despite the fact that I can barely remember Peppard as a lead presence here. It is a hard thing to do for a film that has him (by his idea) do a Stewart impersonation in the middle of things because hey, do you remember that Stewart played the character's dad for one segment? The highlights are the sequences involving action because of the staging that allows for things to just move on their own, as opposed to acting that is mostly just fine (it is hard to really pick a favorite), but you have a cadre of character actors to go with name guys doing a fraction of the work that straddles just above being accused of phoning it in and settling right into "stagey but comfortable". As a whole, it is a grand old epic that is good enough in the categories that matter in spectacle to make a serviceable recommendation for those interested in what the film tries to show within a distinct camera setup and approach.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Intruder (1962).

Review #2211: The Intruder.

Cast: 

William Shatner (Adam Cramer), Frank Maxwell (Tom McDaniel), Beverly Lunsford (Ella McDaniel), Robert Emhardt (Verne Shipman), Leo Gordon (Sam Griffin), Charles Barnes (Joey Greene), Charles Beaumont (Mr. Paton), Katherine Smith (Ruth McDaniel), George Clayton Johnson (Phil West), and William F. Nolan (Bart Carey) 

Produced and 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, and #2113 - The Undead)

Review: 

You don't need me to express the vast talent of Roger Corman in getting films out and done for audiences to see in their time, because the obituaries that have followed in the wake of his passing have pretty much stated as much. Whether as director, writer, producer, distributor, or as a mentor to aspiring filmmakers, the man had an eye more often than not for what worked best for an audience. One can't simply say he managed to have at least one film released in theaters from 1955 to 1964. Let us put it this way: The Intruder, released in the month of May in 1962, was released in the middle of his directorial career...after having done thirty features. But I think this one seemed most interesting to cover because of how it stands out among the ones that he oversaw in the days where one really could make a film in the span of a few days or weeks. As opposed to simply filming it around Hollywood, Corman aimed to film in Missouri (mostly in Sikeston) on a budget of roughly $80,000 that was based on a book by Charles Beaumont (a writer best known for film screenplays and several episodes of The Twilight Zone) that had been written in 1958. Apparently, Beaumont had written the book based on an incident that had occurred in Tennessee involving a Northerner stirring the populace of a small town into furor (the Tennessee incident is likely inspired by the story of Clinton, Tennessee, in which the town was among the first to hear from segregation defender John Kasper when it came to a visitior of the North traveling south in an attempt to get a Southern town inflamed against the integration of their local high school - this happened in the fall of 1956). For filming in town, the screenplay (as done by Beaumont) was only seen in full by Corman and Shatner in a move that Corman said was "watered-down for local consumption". It didn't help matters when it came to having time to film certain scenes on location, where at one point a sheriff told them to leave town and called them "communists". In addition to various townspeople being used as extras, you might notice that a handful of writers also appear in small parts (those three are with Beaumont, Johnson, and Nolan; incidentally, while only Johnson ever appeared in a film again, Leo Gordon was also a writer on several TV programs and films, and, well, Shatner became a novelist in his later years). Even using alternate titles for re-releases such as "Shame" and "I Hate Your Guts" did not result in a hit, and Corman tabbed it as his greatest disappointment in his career that taught him a lesson about audiences (apparently, a combination of a re-release in England by the British Film Institute and release on home video decades after its release got the film to "break even").

It isn't often you get a movie where someone utters the n-word in the first five minutes. Really this is the story of a person who thinks they are a man but ultimately is as small as they come. There are a handful of hucksters out there that think they can make their voice heard from beyond the sewer it came from just because they can. The "intruder" depicted here is merely a reflection of the pond of sludge that brings that brand of seething hatred out into the surface. Sure, you could go with Corman's later idea that the film could have been a bit less "black and white". But screw it, this is the kind of movie that has staying power precisely because of how it looks upon this town in the horrific timelessness that comes with seething anger for "the other" in whatever form it takes. The enemy can be anything and anywhere when it comes to a town needing some sort of contempt for whatever perverted thing they don't like (like not being called "sir", maybe). The battle for wanting things to stay the same when it comes to color in school, as evidenced by the riots that occurred at the University of Mississippi in the fall of 1962 (incidentally, the only journalist to be killed in the civil rights era in Paul Guihard was shot and killed during the riots). At the time, Shatner had done a handful of television and supporting film roles over the past ten years to go with turns on Broadway, which Corman knew about when wanting a fine unknown actor, but he had exactly one leading film role to his name with The Explosive Generation (released in 1961, the same year as a supporting role in Judgement at Nuremberg) prior to what we see here. It was the only time he was directed by Corman, although it wasn't his last Corman production, since he later starred in the Corman-produced Big Bad Mama (1974). There is something in this performance that might be among of Shatner's best as a film actor when it comes to bubbling intensity that could only come from someone trying to pull a fast one in gripping a town under his finger. Just watch the sequence of Shatner speaking to a crowd (to a varying crowd of people, as planned by Corman) has such a powerful effect in hellraising with all of the tricks pulled in the playbook in insidious messaging (emphasizing certain words like "literally" or playing to the idea of a mass conspiracy involving certain "other" groups). The longer the film goes, the less that his grip on using the town starts to turn into a rope around him rather than one to hold, which only leads to desperation fit for basically a travelling racist. I particularly like the scene in the middle of things with Shatner and Gordon as a exchange that goes from initial huckstering by Shatner to one of tension (naturally this is a scene that happens as Gordon's on-screen wife has left him after being swayed by Shatner) that eventually ends with an observation that pretty much makes the whole film tick: a salesman seeing the mistakes of the pitchman in his midst that couldn't pull the trigger on him if his life depended on it for all of his "cleverness" and technique. Maxwell and Lunsford sell the sides of the family coin that come from where the touch of Shatner effects their thinking of the town around them (whether as a newspaperman or as a youth under one's grip). The film doesn't have any one hero but instead goes with the idea that among a town of bubbling ooze, there has to be at least one with the idea of decency to present opposition even in the face of scorn regardless of how much of it isn't washed away. While I can't say I've seen every Corman film, I think I can safely say this is among the top tier of his features as a filmmaker, as it is a film made with tremendous conviction in telling a clear-cut story of the dangers in allowing an agitator to wreak havoc in a town just bubbling for anger. Publicly available on the Internet, this is one worth recommending for those with the time (84 minutes) to make for both a showcase in its lead actor and in its director in clear-cut worthwhile filmmaking.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Rest in peace, Roger Corman.

Beauty and the Beast (1962).

Review #2035: Beauty and the Beast.

Cast: 

Joyce Taylor (Althea), Mark Damon (Eduardo), Merry Anders (Sybil), Walter Burke (Grimaldi), Eduard Franz (Orsini), Alexander Lockwood (Man), Dayton Lummis (Roderick), and Michael Pate (Prince Bruno) Directed by Edward L. Cahn (#331 - It! The Terror From Beyond Space, #560 - Experiment Alcatraz, and #656 - Invasion of the Saucer Men)

Review: 

In 1740, a story was published in La jeune américaine, et les contes marins (The Young American and Marine Tales) that in English was called Beauty and the Beast. It was written by Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve. Sixteen years later, a re-written and abridged version was published by Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont, which is the one that ended up being most known among fairy tales told to folks. Oddly enough, Beauty and the Beast took considerable time to adapt for film. The most notable film adaptation for most of the 20th century might be the French film Le Belle et la Bête (1946), which was directed by Jean Cocteau to noted interest in its visual style. The first English-language adaptation, however, was made in 1962, with Edward Small as executive producer. Small was a producer with a lengthy career that spanned both the silent and sound era and covered various productions such as The Man in the Iron Mask (1939), Raw Deal (1948), and Witness for the Prosecution (1957). This film was one of numerous ones that he did with United Artists that were targeted to make money when sold to television rather than make large profits on its budget (roughly $100,000-$300,000), whether that involved Westerns, or melodramas. This was one that was targeted for the family audience that he called a "fairytale for everybody - no messages, no menace." The film was written by George Bruce and Orville H. Hampton. At the helm of director was Edward L. Cahn, who had directed films since the 1930s after getting his start with Universal Pictures in 1917 within the editing department. He became known for his work in Poverty Row studios such as Monogram along with short films that kept him busy (this was the fourth of four films he directed for release in 1962 alone). It may interest you to note this was the last film for Cahn as a director, as he died the year after it was released at the age of 64. It was also the penultimate film with makeup by the famed Jack Pierce, who closed his career with The Creation of the Humanoids (1962) and constant work on the TV show Mister Ed prior to his death in 1968.

I wish I could say that the film is a decent little cheapie. I wish that there was something positive beyond a few effects within a story about a guy who turns into a wolf-looking beast at night, particularly since the effect resembles The Wolf Man from two decades earlier. Alas, this is not one of those little gems that you wish to find and spend 77 minutes with intent curiosity. You can't even be mean about calling it "not good", because it mostly is just a bland film that could be constituted to about five sentences: Duke wants to get married to a woman, silly prince wants to stop him, Duke is a wolf at night that stands around cursed because [reasons], woman saves him with love at the stake, the end. The debate you will have here is whether to call the film "paper-thin" or "paint by the numbers", unless you are not really interested in harvesting as many words as possible. Small's message of no message or menace unintentionally comes true in the worst way possible that it also has no real sense of urgency. The transformation sequences with Damon merely seem to come and go with him standing like a shaggy statue rather than convey any sense of tragedy that come from someone who spends more time than necessary wondering how much sunlight is left, which isn't exactly a compliment for Damon or Taylor when it comes to trying to sell this patchwork of romance. At least Pate seems like someone who could be a useful stoolie for adversarial presence, but again, the only threat the movie has going for it is the idea of tricking villagers into murdering someone that happens to look like a wolf at that very moment. As a whole, Beauty and the Beast at least has a look like a set for the Middle Ages, so that is probably the best thing I can say for a movie that seems a bit too slipshod all the way around to work for anything other than for people who really, really want to see anything that moves. 

Overall, I give it 5 out of 10 stars.

Cléo from 5 to 7.

Review #1989: Cléo from 5 to 7.

Cast: 

Corinne Marchand (Florence "Cléo"), José Luis de Vilallonga (José), Loye Payen (Irma), Dominique Davray (Angèle), Serge Korber (Maurice), Dorothée Blanck (Dorothée), Raymond Cauchetier (Raoul), Michel Legrand (Bob), Antoine Bourseiller (Antoine), and Robert Postec (Doctor Valineau) Written and Directed by Agnes Varda.

Review: 

“I started totally free and crazy and innocent. Now I’ve seen many films, and many beautiful films. And I try to keep a certain level of quality of my films. I don’t do commercials, I don’t do films pre-prepared by other people, I don’t do star system. So I do my own little thing.”

There are no better words to introduce Agnes Varda aside from the fact that Martin Scorsese once described her as a "one of the Gods of cinema". She was born in Ixelles, Brussels, Belgium to French and Greek parents but raised in Sète in France. She studied literature and psychology at the Sorvonne in Paris before moving onto to studying art history at the École du Louvre and later photography. She was the photographer at the Théâtre National Populaire (as opened by a friend) from 1951 to 1961, but she soon found an interest in what she described as "before and after the snapshot" (she also stated that she did not see many films in her youth, and she thought that perhaps it might have stopped her from wanting to be a filmmaker). Her first film as a director came with La Pointe Courte (1955), filmed in Sète that employed a mix of fact and fiction in a mix of melodrama and cinéma vérité that sees both scenes from a withering romance and the life of villagers in a fishing town. The low-budget film has been cited as a precursor to the "French New Wave" (which she called a "man's club"), but it was not a financial success at the time due to lack of distribution, and Varda spent the next couple of years directing short films. Cléo from 5 to 7 (1962) is her second overall feature film. She described her filmmaking as "cinécriture", which relates to the total concept in a filmmaker and their imprint on a film from the writing to the editing process. All in all, Varda would serve as a director and writer for a mix of theatrical films, documentaries, and short films until her death in 2019 at the age of 90, doing films such as Vagabond (1985) and Faces Places (2017).

In France, there is a term called "cinq à sept" that refers to both the time between 5 and 7pm along with a quick afternoon tryst. The film runs at 90 minutes and basically is told in real-time (yes, that means the film really ends at 6:30, but work with it). It involves a woman who is on the verge of hearing important news that meanders around Paris that seems quite timeless in the plight of seeing one's mortality dangle while others (friends, strangers, whatever) are just doing their own thing. In other words, one discovers the joy that Varda has interest in showing in a film that does not dwell in outright melodrama with a subject matter like this (one part shows a brief amusing film seen with guest appearances from Anna Karina and Jean-Luc Godard, incidentally). In other words, it's not about the cancer, it's about someone who finds people who only spoil her rather than love her, a person who strips the bounds of things to look at her (such as wigs or clothing). Asking about tarot cards in the beginning goes to accepting one as having a choice and of fulfillment, one that finds solace in being oneself without being haunted by looming inevitability. Marchand is most famous for this role, one that shows the ideal level of selfish charm that comes with meeting a desire for emotional support in a world that can only think of itself. The rest of the cast is mostly aloof in the ideal sense required, aside from Cauchetier, who shares the last key scenes with Marchand to establish just what kind of fear lies within a day that happens to be the longest of the year. Its ending is merely just when one happens to pull the cover out rather than just playing to formula, one that can go its own way. Its feminine perspective on the perils of aging within the company one keeps is a capable one. At any rate, the movie is a useful way to spend one's time in seeing the emotional qualities that arise from wondering just really matter when one's life is in transit.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Olivia (1951).

Ivan's Childhood.

Review #1964: Ivan's Childhood.

Cast: 

Nikolai Burlyayev (Ivan Bondarev), Valentin Zubkov (Capt. Kholin), Evgeny Zharikov (Lt. Galtsev), Stepan Krylov (Cpl. Katasonov), Valentina Malyavina (Masha), Nikolai Grinko (Lt. Col. Gryaznov), Dmitri Milyutenko (Old Man), Irma Raush (Ivan's mother), and Andrei Konchalovsky (Soldier) Directed by Andrei Tarkovsky.

Review: 

“If you ask me what influence I have received from artists like Bresson, Antonioni, Bergman, Kurosawa, Mizoguchi, I must say none. I have no desire to imitate any of them. Since the main goal of any art is to find a personal means of expression. A language which to express what’s inside of you.” 

Admittedly, no auteur is easy to define because that is to assume one can peg a director as being only a certain type in specialization in words rather than seeing for themselves, as is the case with Andrei Tarkovsky. He was born in the village of Zavrazhye in the Kadyysky District, Kostroma Oblast of the Soviet Union as the son of a Soviet poet/translator Arsent Tarkovsky, who served in World War II and ended up losing a leg. Tarkovsky studied music and arts in school (with one year of Arabic studying as well), but he was more of a troublemaker than a solid student. His interest in film was not immediately present, as he applied to the All-Union State Institute of Cinematography (now known as the Gerasimov Institute of Cinematography) after serving in a research expedition as a prospector (with his time spent in a taiga influencing him); noted filmmaker Mikhail Romm was his professor. His first film as a student came with collaboration with Aleksandr Gordon and Marika Beiku, for which it resulted in the 19-minute short The Killers (1956) that saw all the roles played by VGIK students. Gordon and Tarkovsky collaborated with each other three years later with There Will Be No Leave Today as a practical exercise to learn the basics of filmmaking. Tarkovsky directed (and co-wrote) one more short with The Steamroller and the Violin (1960), which served as his diploma film. One film that influenced Tarkovsky as a filmmaker was Andrzej Wajda's Ashes and Diamonds (1958), but he was also influenced by Japanese cinema as well.  Ivan's Childhood (1962) was his first feature film, coming off the heels of other Soviet films such as The Cranes Are Flying (1957), Ballad of a Soldier (1959), Fate of a Man (1959) in their depiction of the human costs of war that were distinct from previous Soviet works involving World War II (i.e. not just a war movie depicting glory). The Khrushchev Thaw in the mid-1950s certainly helped directors in the country get better chances at making features. Before his death, he wrote a book with Sculpting in Time, which talked about each of his films (along with including other aspects of writing, such as poetry by his father) that attempted to give insight into his manner of filmmaking, complete with including letters of people who wrote to him expressing their thoughts on his films. Tarkovsky died of cancer at the age of 54 in 1986, but his legacy lives on in the seven feature films that he made, such as Solaris (1972), Mirror (1975), and Stalker (1979); a statue of him rests on the entrance of VGIK.

The film is an adaptation of the 1957 novella Ivan, as written by Vladimir Bogomolov. He co-wrote the film alongside Andrei Konchalovsky and Mikhail Papava (Tarkovsky also contributed to writing, albeit without credit), one that saw the director be approached only because another director's attempts at doing a film version was rejected. Tarkovsky once stated that art enriches the spiritual capabilities of a man, one that can help rise above oneself to enact free will. He was quoted later as saying that he hoped with this film that he could establish whether or not he had what it took to be a director (stating that any time of trying to "replace narrative causality with poetic articulations" saw film authorities take umbrage), and he expressed certain regrets about how certain scenes were shot. At any rate, the movie is best enjoyed as one where you let the images sift through your mind with concentration, one where memory and poetry end up being far more important than sifting through in a linear fashion. It is a film of rhythmic elements that express time and memory as if they were two sides of a coin. One dwells on Burlyayev not in the usual manner one thinks of when it comes to a coming-of-age story but instead sees him warped by the bounds of time and memory that expresses Tarkovsky's hatred of war expressed in a war that saw plenty of children lose their lives but just as many lose their childhood. It creates an unwieldly dichotomy all throughout the 94-minute run-time, whether that involves dreams or reality within landscapes, or a child within guilt and innocence, or in the end, time within life and death. It is a movie to look upon the imagery within time, such as the time spent in a night-time swamp that sees "Welcome" bodies laid out or the eventual result from going from battle to footage of Berlin. As a whole, Tarkovsky would have plenty of further works to delve further into the nature of time and memory that makes this film seem his "most accessible", but do not let the labeling fool you: it is a curious film that one should absorb as a passage of poetic links to help open one's mind up. As a directorial debut, Tarkovsky certainly succeeds in his expression of what he wants to deliver, simply put.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Two to go in New Directors Month, with the next one being a movie from 2022.

David and Lisa.

Review #1957: David and Lisa.

Cast: 

Keir Dullea (David Clemens), Janet Margolin (Lisa Brandt), Howard Da Silva (Dr. Alan Swinford), Neva Patterson (Mrs. Clemens), Richard McMurray (Stewart Clemens), Clifton James (John), Nancy Nutter (Maureen), Matthew Anden (Simon), Jamie Sanchez (Carlos), Coni Hudak (Kate), and Karen Lynn Gorney (Josette) Directed by Frank Perry.

Review: 

It should only be natural to cover a New York director. The son of a stockbroker and an Alcoholics Anonymous aide, he was interested in the theater from a young age, working as a parking lot attendant as a youth for the Westport Country Playhouse. He attended the University of Miami before studying under Lee Strasberg and going on to produce plays in Connecticut. He served in the Korean War and became involved with television in 1961 before making his first film with David and Lisa (1962). He would make a variety of films that were generally on the edge of the studio system. In total, Perry directed fourteen feature films, where he was known for films such as The Swimmer (1968), Diary of a Mad Housewife (1970), and Mommie Dearest (1981) before he died in 1995 at the age of 65, with his last directorial effort being a documentary in On the Bridge (1992) about his struggle with prostate cancer.

It is an adaptation of the novella of the same name by Theodore Isaac Rubin, a psychiatrist and author. It was Ann Perry (daughter to playwright Eleanor Perry) who brought the novella to the attention of the Perrys. Eleanor Perry wrote the film, the first of numerous collaborations as writer with F. Perry, who was enlisted to direct (their partnership dissolved in 1971 after they divorced). Each of the Perrys received an Academy Award nomination for their work, which is no small feat for a film made for roughly over $150,000. Admittedly, the premise does sound like a film that could have just been a cheap feature for the exploitation circuit, considering that the lead character is a kid who has an intense fear of being touched. But it is a quirky love story, one that isn't just a feature of sensationalism or goop for cheap tricks, one that asks what it means to help people not stay numb inside. Dullea got his start in acting in television in the 1960s, such as Route 66 (which got him his first film role with Hoodlum Priest (1961). Dullea received notice for this role, although he did grouse at the momentary idea of him being thought of as a troubled youth for typecasting (Dullea has been quoted as saying that his true preference is for the theater). In a role filled with compulsive tendencies that could make one not know where he might spring himself next, Dullea proves worthy to the challenge of making a compelling performance, one where we see the pain wrapped inside someone scared to let someone reach within. The scenes with his parents aren't too long, but they underlie the stark contrast between the perceived "normal" family members and how he was shaped by them. This was the film debut for Margolin, who had thought about being a doctor before being encouraged to give her other interest in acting a try; in 1961, she went from prop girl at the New York Shakespeare Festival to 18-year-old Tony Award nominee. She pulls a double act in self-realization, which means a good chunk of dialogue is short or in rhymes, but she handles it in a way that is warm without cloying that makes for compelling chemistry between Margolin and Dullea. Da Silva provides solid support in efficient timing (mostly spent with Dullea) that isn't there to wax poetically or grandstand in authoritative boredom. The movie is mostly kept inside the psychiatric center, with a few interesting exceptions, such as a sequence where the group is seen out in public and reacts to a rude sentence told to them by repeating it right as they are walking off, as if being in the same room as others a bit different than them is too much. 

It is a tactful movie about people thought to be outside the margins: people who need psychiatric help. It doesn't do so by sugarcoating the leads or turning it into a simple black-and-white tale of treatment. It is the kind of movie where a simple gesture of togetherness in a film as well-executed as this makes the difference between ham-handedness and dynamite, for which the film rests in the latter category. It is a crushing tale of acceptance that makes a useful character study of two wayward souls finding some sort of path forward together. Quick to the point in 93 minutes without needing easy resolutions or cheap tricks, David and Lisa is a testament to the power of independent filmmaking and the potential it can bring thanks to the efforts of the Perrys and all involved.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

The Music Man.

Review #1410: The Music Man.

Cast: 
Robert Preston (Harold Hill), Shirley Jones (Marian Paroo), Buddy Hackett (Marcellus Washburn), Paul Ford (Mayor George Shinn), Hermione Gingold (Eulalie Mackechnie Shinn), Pert Kelton (Mrs. Paroo), Ron Howard (Winthrop Paroo), Susan Luckey (Zaneeta Shinn), Timmy Everett (Tommy Djilas), Harry Hickox (Charlie Cowell), and The Buffalo Bills (Vern Reed, Al Shea, Wayne "Scotty" Ward, Bill Spangenberg as The School Board) Produced and Directed by Morton DaCosta.

Review: 
Showmanship can go a long way when it comes to musicals, for better or worse. This film was adapted from composer/conductor/bandleader/playwright Meredith Willson's Broadway musical of the same name, which he co-wrote the book (alongside Franklin Lacey), music and lyrics for based on his boyhood in Mason City, Iowa. After years of trying to get producers on board for it and revisions and cuts to songs, the production premiered on Broadway in 1957, running for four years with stage and film actor Preston (chosen after numerous others rejected it, such as Gene Kelly) in the lead role, and it would garner Tony Award wins the following year, winning awards such as Best Musical and Best Actor for Preston. Further productions have been done in London alongside revivals, with one being planned for later in this year on Broadway. When Warner Brothers bought the screen rights for the play, they wanted a prominent figure for the lead role, with the first choice being Frank Sinatra and another consideration being Cary Grant. Willson held firm to his preference for Preston, and he prevailed eventually in this regard; DaCosta, who had directed the play on Broadway, would serve as director and producer with the intent of being as faithful to the original as possible, which is reflected in its 151 minute run-time.

When it comes to grand old musicals, this is one firmly in the middle of average and great, fairly memorable in its rendition of songs and its Americana spirit that makes for a pleasant time for those who are into that sort of thing. On the one hand, I applaud the efforts to maintain the spirit of the play into a film with plenty of design and beat, complete with having Preston helm the ship as lead. On the other hand, it generally seems to hit its mark only just enough to make it worth one viewing and that is it. The enjoyment of said film rests on one's patience for its matter of singing and its small-town trappings and humor, which do fine in parts. If one desires songs and plenty of people to go along with it and inspire jokes that hit with that sensibility of a folksy spring, this will likely pan out. Preston is the best aspect of the whole film, relentless in his façade with plenty of charm and capability to sing and talk as well as anyone. Jones (a trained singer who was the only person signed to a personal contract by Rodgers and Hammerstein) accompanies him with her own share of pragmatic grace that makes for a capable chemistry with Preston to go with fine singing. Hackett makes for a capable comic relief and a decent dancer (despite my reservations about "Shipoopi" as a whole). Ford and Gingold each contribute a few courtly laughs, while child TV star-turned-future director Howard makes a fine bright presence. There are quite a few highlight moments and songs, with "Seventy-Six Trombones" being a particular entertaining one to listen to, and the film does land itself with fair rallying spirit that entertains its audience without drowning in too much sentimental hokum to wither the fun. This is a fair show to seek out for those who like some Americana spirit from way back when that entertains to this very day.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.

Review #1409: The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.

Cast: 
John Wayne (Tom Doniphon), James Stewart (Ransom "Ranse" Stoddard), Vera Miles (Hallie Stoddard), Lee Marvin (Liberty Valance), Edmond O'Brien (Dutton Peabody), Andy Devine (Marshal Link Appleyard), Ken Murray (Doc Willoughby), John Carradine (Maj. Cassius Starbuckle), Jeanette Nolan (Nora Ericson), John Qualen (Peter Ericson), Willis Bouchey (Jason Tully), Carleton Young (Maxwell Scott), Woody Strode (Pompey), Denver Pyle (Amos Carruthers), Strother Martin (Floyd), and Lee Van Cleef (Reese) Directed by John Ford (#398 - The Last Hurrah, #1324 - 3 Bad Men, #1349 - Stagecoach, #1372 - Fort Apache, and #1392 - The Searchers)

Review: 
"This is the West, sir. When the legend becomes fact, print the legend."

The ravages of time strikes all of us in the end. What is destiny and history but in the eye of the one telling it? This can apply as a philosophical question but also to film as well, particularly with John Ford and this particular film. The 1960s was the sixth and final decade in which Ford directed a film, having won four Best Director Academy Awards and two more for his war documentaries in the years before. It was not the last Western that he would direct (that went to his penultimate film Cheyenne Autumn, released two years later), nor was it his last feature (he directed four more films after this one, the last being 7 Women in 1966), but this film is generally regarded as the last great film of Ford's lengthy career, with Sergio Leone describing it was the only film that Ford "learned about something called pessimism." By this time in his career, Ford found it harder to fund his features, with this taking months for Paramount Pictures to greenlight the feature, and he found some resentment in having Wayne forced onto him as star, although said resentment could also be due to being shuttled off to second unit work not meant to be used on John Wayne's The Alamo (1960). This also happened to be Ford's last black-and-white film, and the decision to shoot it in this process was evidently his decision alone and not a matter of budget. Ford is on record for stating his preference for black-and-white photography over color, calling it "real photography" that requires one to be careful and know where to lay the shadows and make the right perspective. It just happens that it also helps in suspending disbelief (at least most of it) in the idea of 50-year old Wayne and Miles portraying characters significantly younger for a majority of the film, which would be filmed mostly on the lot as opposed to Monument Valley.

The film was adapted by writers James Warner Bellah and Willis Goldbeck from a 1953 short story by Dorothy M. Johnson. At any rate, this is an involving and successful look upon its ironic tale of a hero and his destiny, a thoughtful Western that utilizes its familiar company of actors and crew for Ford to tremendous effect. It moves at its own pace and structure at 123 minutes that is filled with more grit and realism than Ford's previous output, where the myth can prove to endure far more than the facts themselves, for better or worse. Stewart, as one would expect from such an distinct everyman like him, does tremendously well in carrying his composure and idealism in the face of danger and destiny, whether that means interacting with the townsfolk about statehood or having to use a gun to save himself. In that sense, Wayne fits like a glove on the other side of the main coin, significantly grittier in presence but still having plenty of rough conviction to make this compelling, despite his troubles with this film. He felt that this was a tough role for him, seeming merely functional to the plot to have to make a part out of (while opposing the idea that it was one with ambiguity, since he hated and distrusted ambiguity), and Ford's heaping of abuse (ranging from his failures to make it as a football player to his lack of war service) did not help. Miles accompanies the last angle of the film's careful love triangle with subtlety and care. Marvin, known for his supporting and villainous roles, excels in a title role with plenty of viciousness and grime to go around in each scene he is in, such as the delegate scene or the showdown near its end. O'Brien proves just as adept in inspiring curiosity as a presence and voice for a town, while Devine inspires a few chuckles as said town's supposed authority. Others don't have as much time on screen, but they do make it count, such as Carradine and his grand-old bluster present in the last twenty minutes or a composed Strode. One is invested in this tale that is being told through flashback without growing tired of its capturing of what made the Old West: a tall tale with honesty, amusement and a conclusion worth writing home about, where men can be made or broken on the strength of a lie (or in this case, a myth). In any case, this is an entertaining and thoughtful Western from John Ford as one would expect from such a distinguished filmmaker who honed his craft in delivering entertainment over the course of six decades that has something for everyone now more than ever.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Lonely Are the Brave.

Review #1229: Lonely Are the Brave.

Cast: 
Kirk Douglas (John W. "Jack" Burns), Gena Rowlands (Jerry Bondi), Walter Matthau (Sheriff Morey Johnson), Michael Kane (Paul Bondi), Carroll O'Connor (Truck Driver), William Schallert (Harry), George Kennedy (Gutierrez), and Karl Swenson (Rev. Hoskins) Directed by David Miller.

Review: 
Sometimes you come across a Western that is a bit different from the rest. This Western drama is adapted from Edward Abbey's 1956 novel The Brave Cowboy with a screenplay from Dalton Trumbo. The film deals with the difficulty an individual can have living within growing society, one where wires and fences loom over the open country, where one lone man stands with his principles. Douglas (who calls this his favorite film) was attracted to playing the lead after reading the novel, with him getting Universal Pictures to help fund the film with him as star, complete with cast and crew recruited from his production company Joel Productions. Filmed on a budget of two million around Albuquerque, New Mexico, Lonely Are the Brave is a stark and excellently done tragic classic, headlined by a great performance from Douglas alongside a capable supporting cast to go alongside him in a film that stands out from other Westerns of its time, both in setting and in tone. Key moments include Douglas and his fight with a one-armed man (Bill Raisch, a stand-in for Burt Lancaster on occasion best known for his appearances on The Fugitive beginning the following year), well-done cinematography by Philip H. Lathrop that shows off vast landscape shots without trouble and fine detail and an understated performance from Matthau, who was more known for his work on the stage (winning his second Tony Award the same year of this film's release, in fact). For the most part, this is a film for Douglas to grab with his performance, which is quite wonderful, running the gamut in grace as a man of the West trapped in a tragic fate of a moving world that makes this revisionist Western stand tall. Rowlands and Kane do fair with their brief time on screen, being the kind of people who could cross paths with a rogue like our lead without seeming completely in the background, trying to roll with their path in a weary world. The other members of the cast (including a young O'Connor) do just fine, including a rough Kennedy. It did not prove to be a huge hit upon initial release, in part because of disputes between Douglas and Universal over how the film should be released, with Douglas believing it should be released in art-houses and gradually build its audience and the studio preferring to release it wide without any sort of big support. Despite this, the film has its own cult following and it isn't hard to see why. It has a solid headliner with Douglas in a role he excels with, making it obvious why he would adore it still after half a century since, since it is a solid production with its own bit of thrills and distinctive voice among Westerns that make it a fair piece to recommend out of curiosity on the trail.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

King Kong vs. Godzilla (1962).

Review #1224: King Kong vs. Godzilla. 

Cast:  

Tadao Takashima (Osamu Sakurai), Kenji Sahara (Kazuo Fujita), Yū Fujiki (Kinsaburo Furue), Ichirō Arishima (Mr. Tako), Mie Hama (Fumiko Sakurai), Jun Tazaki (General Masami Shinzo), Akiko Wakabayashi (Tamie), Akihiko Hirata (Shigesawa, Doctor), Somesho Matsumoto (Onuki, Doctor), Akemi Negishi (Chikiro's Mother, Faro Island Native), with Shoichi Hirose (King Kong) and Haruo Nakajima (Godzilla) Directed by Ishirō Honda (#167 - Godzilla [1954/1956], #711 - Mothra, #1092 - Gorath)

Review: 
I suppose if there is any Godzilla film that gets mentioned quite a bit by monster moviegoers, it would be this one - after all, it remains the highest attended film of the franchise in Japan, having sold 11.2 million tickets on original release, with release in other countries (such as America) to follow. It is the third film of the franchise, released seven years after Godzilla Raids Again. The genesis for the film took place over a span of two years, evolving from the original proposition from effects animator Willis O'Brien (known from his work on King Kong) that he dubbed King Kong meets Frankenstein, for which a big fight between Kong and a giant Frankenstein would occur in San Francisco, with a script eventually being fleshed out by a writer named George Worthing Yates. Attempts to ship the idea to other studios did not pan out well in part because of the intent to do the film effects in stop-motion (deemed too costly), but Toho eventually acquired interest in the idea of making a film with King Kong, albeit through replacing Frankenstein with Godzilla to be released in 1962, Toho's 30th anniversary as a company. Honda returned as director alongside Eiji Tsuburaya directing the special effects, with a new writer in Shinichi Sekizawa; this is contrast to the first two films - the first film had a screenplay from Takeo Murata and Honda with a story from Shigeru Kayama, while the second film had Murata and Shigeaki Hidaka do the screenplay with Kayama as story writer. With this new writer came a light shift in tone. This shift also applied to the action with the monsters, such as when the two monsters volley a boulder back and forth. Nearly half the budget (roughly $200,000) dealt with paying RKO Pictures for the rights to King Kong. The film takes its time in setting the stage for its two monsters with its plot of the humans, for which Honda intended to be a satire on the Japanese TV industry. After all, there is quite a bit of humor on the attempts to drive up ratings (for a pharmaceutical company sponsoring TV programs). In that sense, it comes off as a bit silly, but at least it gives you a glimpse at what is to come without having a complete tonal shift when the monsters show up, with it being half an hour before either Kong or Godzilla show up, and the former monster has more to do with the plot for the opening hour before the latter monster makes more of an appearance. In that regard, the acting is just fine, playing itself a bit tongue-in-cheek with a bit of energy to try and make sure things aren't being wobbily held before its key players come in to show their hand. Arishima is the key highlight in giving off a bit of amusement amongst a minimal but passable story.

It does have some of the beats from the original King Kong, such as a trip to a mysterious island with natives that holds Kong defending them against other monsters (in this case, octopuses) along with bringing him back for publicity sake, and he even takes a girl with him while climbing up a giant building. I do applaud the look given to Godzilla, which certainly looks wonderful for his first foray in color. King Kong doesn't come off as well, mostly because the face looks a bit closed in, and the fur does seem a bit too distracting when wondering what kind of fur carpet they cut it from. Admittedly, it proves pretty amusing when it actually builds up to the two monsters meeting for their big final battle in the 85 minute mark, what with Kong being transported there by a stack of big balloons while asleep (the less said, the better). I applaud the idea to try and freshen up the films by going for a bit lighter fare, even if it does come at the cost of the characters; it certainly sticks out in the evolution of these films from films about a radioactive monster that attacks Japan to one involving a monster that encounters other particular monsters in a mashup, which is quite enjoyable to look at. The American edit that followed included removal and re-cutting of certain scenes, making the action seem like it was from a newscast, while utilizing music from older movies (a good deal of them from monster movies) that was shot for three days and $15,500 that was eventually distributed by Universal-International in American theaters in 1963. The versions differed only slightly in the climatic battle, with the edit including footage from The Mysterians (1957) to make a earthquake sequence seem more destructive, slight differences in dialogue regarding speculation over Godzilla surviving or not, and hearing only Kong's roar in the end. The success of this film prompted Toho to propose a sequel (which would've been called Continuation: King Kong vs. Godzilla), but the project did not come to fruition (they did however help co-produce King Kong Escapes in 1967, based off an animated series that Rankin/Bass had done earlier in the decade). They also had ideas about pitting Godzilla versus Frankenstein's monster, but this was scrapped instead in favor of pitting the monster against a familiar creature in Mothra, which was released two years later. Over a half century later, there will finally be a matchup of Godzilla and Kong, this time by Legendary Pictures. One would expect they will come up with a servicable story that isn't just repeating the same beats like other certain studios - at least monster movies inspire plenty of imagination. In any case, this is a fairly entertaining spectacle piece, having light fun with its big mashup between people in rubber suits that appeals well to both adults and kids alike, whether having popcorn at hand or not.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Invasion of the Star Creatures.

Review #1202: Invasion of the Star Creatures.

Cast: 
Robert Ball (Pvt. Philbrick), Frank Ray Perilli (Pvt. Penn), Gloria Victor (Dr. Puna), Dolores Reed (Prof. Tanga), Trustin Howard (Sergeant), and Mark Ferris (Colonel Thomas Awol) Directed by Bruno VeSota.

Review: 
Sometimes you just know a film is going to be trouble with the credits. What should I really expect from "R.I. Diculous Presents"? Believe it or not, the script (known under titles such as "Monsters from Nicholson Mesa") was written by Jonathan Haze, star of The Little Shop of Horrors (1960) who was originally intended to also star in the film - although this did not come to pass. Perhaps Haze (and b-movie director VeSota, who also starred in Roger Corman productions such as Attack of the Giant Leeches) should have thought hard about what they were getting into before deciding to go for comedy, since the only achievement that they have done is that they made a comedy that garners less laughs than films not going for laughs on purpose. If A Bucket of Blood is entertaining for its balance of horror and black comedy, perhaps this film is that one's dopey cousin that likes to daydream about silly gags and alien women that you can get to love you by kissing them. After all, one of the producers is Samuel Arkoff, whose company American International Pictures helped distribute both features. This was actually released on a double-bill with The Brain That Wouldn't Die - it is actually hard to tell which is worse. Having either fact only makes it easier to recommend literally any other AIP film than this one. Ball and Perilli are our main duo for 70 minutes (80 for the television version), and it occurs fairly quickly that they will prove tiresome, since they are tedious to follow along with not being too particularly funny to boot. This is a film that thinks that a sergeant talking in beatnik slang will surely get the laughs going. By the time the alien women appear on screen, it seems like a sigh of relief - having different faces to watch that aren't torturing the masses with lame gags. Victor and Reed aren't exactly given much to do besides tower over the bumbling duo and occasionally talk about their (supposedly) devious plot; perhaps a campy action sci-fi film would've made for a better use of their time, although they wouldn't be helped by their alien accomplices, involving guys in carrot costumes. Perhaps they thought they were being funny with the costume use, but the movie is such a dud that it doesn't really matter how they really look - they might as well have been dressed as killer clowns or sunflowers. It is a bland movie packed with jokes best suited for the grand art of making strangers on the street groan while trying to make them be your friend. This film has no friend except for late night showings by people who like to loathe themselves for an hour or need something to be on when checking their phones or reading a book. In other words, the film sucks.

Overall, I give it 3 out of 10 stars.

Gorath.

Review #1092: Gorath.

Cast: 
Ryô Ikebe (Dr. Tazawa - Astrophysicist), Yumi Shirakawa (Tomoko Sonoda), Akira Kubo (Tatsuma Kanai - Cadet Astronaut), Kumi Mizuno (Takiko Nomura), Hiroshi Tachikawa (Wakabayashi - Pilot of Ôtori), Akihiko Hirata (Endô - Captain of Ôtori), Kenji Sahara (Saiki - Vice Captain of Ôtori), Jun Tazaki (Raizô Sonoda - Tomoko's Father), Ken Uehara (Dr. Kôno - Astrophysicist), and Takashi Shimura (Kensuke Sonoda - Paleontologist) Directed by Ishirō Honda (#167 - Godzilla and #711 - Mothra)

Review: 
Note: I watched the English dubbed version of this film, which I happened to encounter on television last night. However, I have found a source or two that have compared the original version and the English dubbed version (which features Paul Frees for some of the voices), which are slightly noticeable in its editing, and I hope that seeing the English dub doesn't affect the quality of this review, since I generally try to watch a world cinema film with its original language and subtitles. In any case, I hope you enjoy this review.

With this science fiction film (also known as Yôsei Gorasu), you get the best of both worlds (of sorts): You get your share of shots in space involving either rockets or a planet and you also get your share of scenes involving exposition and occasional story bits with characters. Whether that makes for a serviceable time is up to you, but I found it be okay if not too particularly exceptional. The actors are fairly okay, but because of how the film likes to jump around between numerous people (generally ones in some sort authority), there isn't anyone who sticks out too particularly well, although Tazaki commands a bit of attention for the brief time he is on screen. The strangest moment of the movie isn't even involving the deadly planet, it's actually a part where one of the characters (played by Kubo) takes a framed photo of someone who died and throws it out the window. A close second involves the planet apparently having the power to give someone who gets close to it some sort of amnesia - which is cured by looking at it again apparently. There isn't really too much to the story other than just the incoming planet (which you get to hear is 6,000 times the mass of Earth a few times) and some exposition on the solution to said planet: move the Earth. In a worse movie, it'd probably be easy to pick at that and probably get mad for being insulting to the mind, but in a movie as okay as this, it doesn't feel too terrible to go through, perhaps since it doesn't feel too deceptive in being entertainment - success or not.

The effects are pretty nice to look at for the time that they were created in, having some model shots that seem pretty convincing at moments, particularly during the climax with a flood, which is quite striking. At the head of the department behind the visual effects for the film along with Toho as a studio was Eiji Tsuburaya (who you may know as one of the creators for Godzilla). One interesting thing about the film is a giant walrus named Maguma that appears near the end of the movie, which was added in at the last minute due to influence from one of the producers. Most of the sequence was actually cut out of the English-dubbed version, believe it or not, with the result being a bit disjointed and probably more amusing to giggle at than the original. There exists numerous run-times for the film, with the original being 88 minutes long, the German version being 84 minutes, the American version being 83 minutes, and the American VHS release being 77 minutes. The movie doesn't try to be just one of those sci-fi movies that throw random situations at an audience, having an aim for presenting a message involving cooperation between humans and achievement against all odds, which at the very least is something worth presenting. It isn't a complete success, but it isn't a complete failure either. It won't be known as a great classic, but it is something that you could encounter late at night and probably have some enjoyment with in you're in the right mood.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.