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.

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

The Professionals (1966).

Review #2371: The Professionals.

Cast: 

Burt Lancaster (Bill Dolworth), Lee Marvin (Henry "Rico" Fardan), Claudia Cardinale (Maria Grant), Robert Ryan (Hans Ehrengard), Woody Strode (Jake Sharp), Jack Palance (Jesus Raza), Ralph Bellamy (Joe Grant), Joe De Santis (Ortega), Rafael Bertrand (Fierro), Maria Gomez (Chiquita), and Jorge Martínez de Hoyos (Padillia) Written for the Screen and Directed by Richard Brooks (#871 - Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, #1033 - Dollars, #1426 - In Cold Blood)

Review: 

Admittedly, it does help to highlight a director that likes to have it their way as writer and/or producer too, particularly one as fiery and as less covered as I would like to admit. Richard Brooks was actually a reporter before he became interested in the film industry, and it served him well to serve in the Marine Corps film unit in World War II because his debut novel (you might know it as Crossfire [1947]) got him attention in actually being sought for writing in film, most notably with uncredited work with The Killers (1946) and collaboration on Key Largo (1948). He became writer/director with Crisis (1950) at MGM and honed his talent there, culminating with Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958), one of his numerous adaptations of previous material. He struck forward with other studios and won with Elmer Gantry (1960), which won him an Academy Award for his script. Two films later (Sweet Bird of Youth (1962), Lord Jim [1965]), here we are with another adaptation of previous material, in this case being the 1964 novel A Mule for the Marquesa, by Frank O'Rourke (O'Rourke was a regular writer of Western books, with The Bravados (1958) being among the first of his adapted into movies). The movie was shot in both California and Nevada (most notably with Death Valley). The result was a hit that garnered Brooks two Academy Award nominations. If any director had multiple peaks and valleys, Brooks likely reached his last peak with his next movie that arose in 1967 with In Cold Blood, as he directed six further movies in the next two decades.

Oh hell, you need to balance out the Westerns when travelling along the trail for curious entertainment, one that has two distinct halves that will hold one's attention with how much energy can be put on screen in such lean execution. Cliche as it sounds, this is clearly the work of a professional when it comes to establishing an entertaining ensemble (one that sure won't remind folks of say, The Magnificent Seven) and a locale that isn't lost among the peaks and valleys of dirt. It is a gritty and fun movie for its 117-minute run-time, suffice to say. It is a pal's kind of movie, not one where one ego just overshadows the other, but if we are being fair, Marvin fits the movie like a glove. There is something about Marvin* that inspires a smile with how one just rolls with him to lead a movie with such an understated charm that might as well have come right down from his days playing hardboiled guys that doesn't have to say much to just make one roll with things. Of course, Lancaster isn't too far behind in wise-ass charm, he just happens to be shrouded in curiosity in following along with being part of the kicking-ass nature and causing mayhem. Ryan and Strode round out the core four with their own entertaining qualities (even with both past their fifties, one can see an ass-kicker there, basically) while Cardinale and Palance fill the sides with commitment that show the actual sides to a frontier closing in on people where people will die for their commitment to a cause because of the passion they yearn to show. Bellamy is the right kind of craven outsider needed to start and end the movie. Being trapped in peaks and valleys roll well with the mayhem created in just letting things fly with relatively colorful people to hold it. By the time one gets to the ending, you might see a movie that strains to really hold it all together, but it does work out to see the culmination of making a choice on conviction rather than by simple order. In that sense, this is a neat movie, maybe not a great Western but a worthwhile ensemble movie with worthwhile people all around to make it worth your while.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

*You might want to know that would be Academy Award winning Lee Marvin, as the previous year saw the release of Cat Ballou (1965), which saw him win for Best Actor. Incidentally, Marvin and Ryan teamed up the next year for The Dirty Dozen in another movie about colorful characters and guns, guns, guns.

The Round-Up (1966).

Review #2073: The Round-Up.

Cast: 

János Görbe (János Gajdar), Zoltán Latinovits (Imre Veszelka), Tibor Molnár (Kabai), Gábor Agárdy (Torma), András Kozák (Ifj. Kabai), Béla Barsi (Foglár), József Madaras (Magyardolmányos), János Koltai (Béla Varju), István Avar (Vallató I), and Lajos Őze (Vallató II) Directed by Miklós Jancsó.

Review: 

"...I and the friends with whom I make my films don't think of the viewer as a child but as an adult, and we would like to be partners in an equal discussion with him. We don't want to tell him what to think."

Well, sometimes the writer and reader need a little history lesson. In the spring of 1848 (March 15 to be specific), the Revolution of 1848 began in the empire of Austria and its land of Hungary. The result of the revolution at the end of the following year was a suppression of Hungary that saw numerous rebels and generals executed alongside the exile of people such as Lajos Kossuth. The scattering included highwaymen such as Sándor Rózsa, who is mentioned in this film as someone that others believe is in the prison camp for supports of Kossuth. It seemed important to mention this when talking about Hungary, which at the time of The Round-Up (released in its native title of Szegénylegények in 1966) was under socialist rule as the Hungarian People's Republic (after various changeovers in the prior century, obviously), which included a repression of revolution within the state in 1956 (with beginnings in October 23) by the Soviet Union. Incidentally, public holidays exist in Hungary to commemorate both starts of the failed revolutions. At any rate, it certainly matters to also talk about the film with relation to its place within the director's ambitions in such a lengthy career. Born with roots in both Hungary from his father and Romania from his mother with an upbringing in Transylvania, Jancsó had ideas of taking up law as a career before later settling with taking up studying in the Academy of Theatre and Film Arts. He did a number of documentary work and eventually features starting in the 1950s, but his first noted film came with My Way Home (1964), which dealt with a teenaged deserter of the army in Hungary (as aligned with the Axis powers) near the end of World War II. Jancsó continued his run of noted international films within The Red and the White (1967), which was actually a Hungary-Soviet Union production commissioned to mark the 50th anniversary of the October Revolution but was turned by him into being set two years later in 1919. His later films have their own notations (such as Red Psalm (1972), which also loosely dealt with the 1848 revolution on a different wavelength), albeit on a different approach with long takes that also saw him move abroad for a time within France. In an interview relating to his films up to the point of the 1980s, he stated that his films have had one general theme within "an exploration of the state of society in which some people always try to exploit others." Jancsó died at the age of 92 in 2014.

The film was written by Gyula Hernádi, who wrote for a number of Jancsó features. There is quite a scale of landscape told within the violence and power shown through such a striking feature within the distance one feels within what is shown on screen. The long and winding road of wavering rules in this cat-and-mouse game of oppressor and the oppressed extends to the viewer for a curious viewing, one with players that come and go as if they were being displaced on a chess board. The focus for a good deal of the film involves a man (played well in torment by Görbe) who is trying to avoid death by trying to find someone who has killed more people than he did, which can only go so far when dealing with what happens to those who inform on others. The final gambit that pulls everything together is more of a fit of irony, one that rallies the oppressed together in a fit of camaraderie and togetherness only to see that those who had aligned together with the man of the past in rebellion are by default condemned to die at the hands of the people they basically confessed to. It has been suggested that the film was seen in part as an allegory for the 1956 revolution, and Jancsó had to make a statement before screening the film at the Cannes Film Festival denying the implication (although obviously you can't take it at face value). No matter how you view the torture of the mind and in physicality, what you have here is a fascinating film that shows the overarching power of doom that comes from the inevitability of all that comes from finding what one is looking for in the rallying cry of masses.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Next up: It was certainly time for a Hong Kong film...starring Jackie Chan.

Alfie (1966).

Review #2034: Alfie.

Cast: 

Michael Caine (Alfie Elkins), Shelley Winters (Ruby), Millicent Martin (Siddie), Vivien Merchant (Lily Clamacraft), Jane Asher (Annie), Julia Foster (Gilda), Shirley Anne Field (Carla), Eleanor Bron (the Doctor), Denholm Elliott (the Abortionist), Alfie Bass (Harry Clamacraft), Graham Stark (Humphrey), Murray Melvin (Nat), and Sydney Tafler (Frank) Produced and Directed by Lewis Gilbert (#292 - The Spy Who Loved Me, #338 - Moonraker, #354 - You Only Live Twice)

Review: 

"At that time, there had never been a cockney film. In cinema, the cockney was the man who said: "Guvnor, your car's outside." You never saw a cockney family with real problems. In the 60s, we were beginning to make films that reflected something of the British way of life. Before Alfie and its contemporaries, British film was all Noël Coward and drawing rooms."

The British can make for curious folks. Lewis Gilbert had a road fit for being involved in film business. He was the son of music hall performers and he first saw a film set in his childhood years. When World War II came, he served with the Royal Air Force in their film unit and later the First Motion Picture Unit of the U.S. Army Air Forces. He made documentary work for Gaumont British before going on to feature directing in 1947 with The Little Ballerina. Among the most noted films before Alfie involved ones based on historical events such as Reach for the Sky (1956) and Sink the Bismarck! (1960). He followed Alfie with a variety of dramas and adventures (most notably with three James Bond films) before his final film in 2002; he died in 2018 at the age of 97. The film is based on the play of the same name by Bill Naughton. He had originally come up with the idea with "Alfie Elkins and His Little Life" which was broadcast on the radio BBC Third Programme in 1962 before he was commissioned to turn it into a stage play that premiered the next year. A production on Broadway was done in 1964 with Terence Stamp as the star, but it lasted only a handful of performances. It was during these productions that Hydra Gilbert saw the production and recommended it to her husband Lewis. Naughton wrote the screenplay for this film, which was the first of three adaptations of Naughton's work that followed with The Family Way (1966) and Spring and Port Wine (1970), with Naughton writing the latter. Evidently, when it came to casting, Caine was not the first choice for the lead role nor even the second. Laurence Harvey was first considered but he did not want to play the role on Broadway, and Terence Stamp, just wasn't interested in playing the role again after the Broadway show. Incidentally, his roommate at the time was Michael Caine, who was best known for Zulu (1964) and The Ipcress File (1965); incidentally, James Booth, who starred with Caine in the aforementioned Zulu film, turned the role down. Caine got offered the role (Paramount Pictures, who distributed the film, didn't care much because the film was cheap anyway), went right in, and the rest is history. A "sequel" followed with Alfie Darling (1975) that had no Caine in the lead (Alan Price took over) and therefore no particular reason to see it before an inevitable remake was done in 2004 with Jude Law as star. 

The striking thing is that for a film of the Swingin' era of London, it actually is a pretty sobering comedy-drama film beneath the fourth wall posturing by Caine (as devised by Gilbert and company) that makes its mark in self-centered but aware amusement in what romance really means, particularly within "peace of mind". The performance of Caine carries the movie as far as you would possibly expect. He makes the exemplary example of a Casanova in all of the ways you hope to see in sad amusement. You can see how his Cockney accent and blustering attitude towards women make him more than a caricature or target for easy jokes, since all he really is one who knows only what he wants to know in pleasure without pain, one who changes partners like one changes socks that makes for a quality scoundrel. Winters is actually only in three scenes despite her billing, but she is still in good form here in terms of provocative enjoyment in taste. There is a distinct edge to how our lead treats each of the four women he tries to make a roll within Martin, Merchant, Asher, and Foster that they each handle with useful timing and pathos, right from the opening sequence where Caine is trying to explain pursuit with a married woman with the first chat he makes to the camera. Within the edges is the withering of Alfie's own life where he can't even see his own kid because of his own ways and even a bout at the sanitorium because of how he takes the news about shadows in lungs that is handled expertly. Of course, it also is a film that doesn't skimp on the key event that made the play a lightning rod for discussion: a character going through an abortion. Obviously, it isn't actually shown in either the play or the film, but the very fact it is mentioned at all was quite notable in its time. It isn't moral handwringing to say that certain actions have consequences, and it is seeing those up close that make it especially important to make a film effective, which I think is handled quite well within the time spent with Caine, Merchant, and Elliott. By the time the film ends on a last conversation to the fourth wall in "what's it all about?", you have a pretty good idea of just what it means to have seen someone look at their consequences in the face and come out still asking questions and all alone. As a whole, Alfie is a curious and suitable way to spend 114 minutes when it comes to saying something distinct about what it all means to try and play the master of all in something and end up as master of none in the home of one's mind, which makes for a pretty good comedy-drama.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Gamera vs. Barugon.

Review #2029: Gamera vs. Barugon.

Cast: 

Kojiro Hongo (Keisuke Hirata), Kyōko Enami (Karen), Yūzō Hayakawa (Kawajiri), Takuya Fujioka (Dr. Satō), Kōji Fujiyama (Onodera), Akira Natsuki (Ichirō Hirata), Yoshirō Kitahara (Professor Amano), Ichirō Sugai (Dr. Matsushita), Bontarō Miake (Self-Defense Force General), Jutarō Hōjō (Self-Defense Force Commander), and Teruo Aragaki (Gamera) Directed by Shigeo Tanaka.

Review: 

You may recall that Gamera, the Giant Monster (1965), was directed by Noriaki Yuasa for Daiei Film that was done with outdated equipment that was meant to embe a film involving rats that terrorized a city before the health department shut that idea down. Instead, it was reworked to involve a giant prehistoric turtle let loose in the Arctic by an atomic bomb. It may have been a bit goofy, but it surely made the best of a weird situation and did exactly what one hopes to see from mid 1960s imagination. The surprise hit made in the era of wanting to crib another certain series involving a monster in Japan led to immediate sequelmaking. In this sequel, Yuasa was relegated to special effects only while Niisan Takahashi wrote the screenplay once again after Yunosaburo Saito was originally brought in to provide a story outline that originally thought about ice ages and aliens. This is likely the most notable film made by Shigeo Tanaka, aside from probably The Battle of Hong Kong (1942), a lost film that was the only feature made by Hong Kong during Japanese occupation. The budget was raised from the last one and Takahashi was told to write it as such. While the film underperformed with audiences, there would a Gamera film released year after year until Gamera vs. Zigra (1971), with Yuasa directing every one of these films after this one, which would all involve some sort of monster going up against Gamera.

In a way, you could say this is about on par with Godzilla Raids Again. Both feature a mash of monsters and "human drama", although Gamera is probably closer to the road of being thought of as a friendly beast of the land (the first film had a scene of him rescuing a kid that apparently inspired plenty of letters, to the delight of the filmmakers). The monster introduced here is one that shoots out a rainbow and can freeze out Gamera for a time. Aside from the monsters, there is a focus around the pursuit for an oral and the subsequent chase to find out just what it means with Barugon in importance. Gamera is actually not in a good chunk of it, or at least after they use narration to explain stuff from last time (keep in mind, the series did not start in color). In fact, narration is used quite a few times to talk about what is going to go with the human intervention with monsters, which may or may not seem redundant. The buildup involving the pursuit of the opal through the totally mysterious island is handled just fine, not having the pretense of being anything other than mild tension to what you already know. At any rate, Hongo and Fujiyama are the main players for this part and the ensuing scenes involving the road back home (along with the setup with the fact that the opal is actually an egg, which is where the monster comes in). Hongo makes a quality lead presence in the way one thinks of for a monster film with some sort of dignity, one who would appear as the lead for two further Gamera film that went from first believing they were crazy for casting him to later being grateful for being in the series. Enami does about the same in the "New Guinea villager, just go with it" department while Fujiyama makes a quality adversary in compounded greed that obviously can meet one ending. I do dig the final endgame when it comes to a monster that shoots a beam by using a giant mirror. As a whole, the filmmakers apparently found one thing from the experience in that children apparently felt impatient waiting for the monster mash to get going, but I think you will find a pretty good time here regardless of the 100 minute runtime. It is one that utilizes a good deal of wire props, miniatures, and pyrotechnics (with help from Tsuburaya Productions) for a relatively useful followup film that sets the stage for further Gamera films with useful accomplishment and imagination.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

The Wild World of Batwoman.

Review #1928: The Wild World of Batwoman.

Cast: 

Katherine Victor (Batwoman), George Andre (Professor G. Octavius Neon), Steve Brodie (Jim Flanagan), Richard Banks (Rat Fink), Steve Conte (Bruno), Mel Oshins (Tiger), Bruno VeSota (Seltzer), Bob Arbogast (Voice of the Spirits in Séance), and Lloyd Nelson (Heathcliff) Written, Produced, and Directed by Jerry Warren.

Review: 

You may or may not know about Jerry Warren. Well, he was a California native that wanted to get into the film business, and he even appeared in a handful of small parts in films of the 1940s. He became a filmmaker with Man Beast (1956), which he directed and produced. He would direct a couple of his own films before deciding to just simply buy and distribute films made internationally with re-editing (such as 1959's Space Invasion of Lapland). This was his penultimate feature, as Warren did one further film as director and producer of Frankenstein Island (1981) after spending the time between films on his ranch; in total, Warren was involved as director in some capacity (full or in segments) for eleven films. Katherine Victor had worked with Warren on films such as Teenage Zombies (1959) and Curse of the Stone Hand (1965). She was promised a movie with better production values to be made in color with her own boat. Bruno VeSota called the film script as "like memorizing a telephone book with pages picked at random". DC Comics sued Warren for "copyright infringement", since you know, the movie was made to try and capitalize on the Batman craze that happened with the 1966 series, but the lawsuit was won by Warren; he later released the film as She Was a Hippy Vampire. The film re-uses footage from No Time to Kill (1959) and The Mole People (1956), and you even get to see the batgirls get mated with mole people...nah, just kidding. 

Victor has a costume all by herself: a bat insignia with cardboard cutout that is outlined in pencil and filled in with black eyeliner that is right on her chest to go along with a leotard, a domino mask, and feathers. You can see the enthusiasm on her face at being in a movie with no boat or the semblance of being anything other than incomprehensible. Incidentally, she served as a continuity director (among other roles) on a handful of animated films and cartoons released by Walt Disney Animation Studios, which probably means that any cartoon that she was a part of in some form was automatically better than this film. Hell, she could have done as little as provide someone with a piece of paper, and boom, that means she did more to making a useful product than what she does here. This is the kind of movie with "synthetic" vampires that drink smoothies for the introduction and wrist radios for the "Batgirls" that must deal with the acquisition of an "Atomic Hearing Aid". You get to see a seance to try and find the device that ends up seeing a "Chinese" spirit interrupting the ceremony. I think dubbing the film would almost make the film something worth understanding. At any rate, the Mystery Science Theater 3000 crew also covered the film. 70 minutes of mildly boring entertainment that may or may not work in the realm of subdued surreal crapfests, one where you can see a director-writer-producer-editor mishandle each category. You get to see an actor do a crappy attempt at an accent while playing a mad scientist. You get to see a bunch of dancing and a plot that moves like jello and feels like kitsch in all of the worst ways. In other words: things happen, and you just have to make sure you don't fall asleep when it ends in a mishmash of words. The fact that the movie managed to garner a 0 rating is not even a surprise, because giving the movie credit for anything seems like a bridge too far. Lousy acting, lousy action, lousy from top to bottom is the best way to describe the film. One can only wonder what other "films" came from Jerry Warren that could possibly top this one in rancid quality.

Overall, I give it 0 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Warrior of the Lost World.

Wings (1966).

Review #1815: Wings.

Cast: 

Maya Bulgakova (Nadezhda Petrukhina), Zhanna Bolotova (Tanya), Panteleimon Krymov (Pavel Gavrilovich), Leonid Dyachkov (Mitya Grachov), Vladimir Gorelov (Igor), Yury Medvedev (Boris Grigoryevich), Nikolay Grabbe (Kostya Shuvalov), Zhanna Aleksandrova (Zinka), Sergei Nikonenko (Sergei Bystryakov), and Rimma Markova (Shura) Directed by Larisa Shepitko.

Review: 

"My father fought all through the war. To me, the war was one of the most powerful early impressions. I remember the feeling of life upset, the family separated. I remember hunger and how our mother and us, the three children, were evacuated. The impression of a global calamity certainly left an indelible mark in my child's mind."

If you think about it, there has never been a more interesting time to consider branching out when looking into world cinema, no matter how long or short a film career ended up. Larisa Shepitko directed five films from 1963 to 1977, but she managed to cultivate a name for herself among Soviet filmmakers of her time. She was born in a town in Eastern Ukraine in 1938 to parents that soon divorced, leaving her to be raised by her schoolteacher mother; her childhood experiences would leave a key mark within her mind. After graduating high school, she attended the All-Union State Institute of Cinematography (now referred to as the Gerasimov Institute of Cinematography), where she was a student of Alexander Dovzhenko (also born in Ukraine, albeit in a region that was under the Russian Empire at the time), who was a famed Soviet director within social realism that inspired Shepitko; it was there where she met Elem Klimov, who also became a noted filmmaker (alongside her husband). Her first film project was her graduate film in Heat [Znoy] (1963), which she filmed in intense heat that had her direct from a stretcher at one point while depicting agriculture within locations in Kazakh. Wings was her first theatrical film, and it was written by Valentin Yezhov and Natalya Ryazantseva. Wings would not receive much attention upon release because of the censor standards of the government, which allowed only a limited screening, since it only seemed that films would have approval if it found the approval of the right government official (of course, there's a difference between Soviet films made before and after the death of Stalin, so there's that). Her segment "The Homeland of Electricity" for Beginning of an Unknown Era (1967) ended up being shelved years and the film You and Me (1971) did not fare better. It was only her last film in The Ascent [Voskhozhdenie] (1977) that proved fruitful, since it attracted attention in both Russia and abroad. Shepitko died in 1979 at the age of 41 in a car crash while doing location shooting for what was to be her next film - an adaptation of the novel Farewell to Matyora; Klimov would both direct a short film dedicated to his wife along with a film based on the novel in 1983 (known as Farewell).

I'm sure you are quite familiar with movies involving unfulfilled people, ones trapped between the memories of the past and the ordinary realities that come with being a middle-aged symbol of one's country. Well, maybe middle age isn't quite the right term, there is a considerable difference to being a principal after being a pilot (incidentally, there was a group of all-female aviators in the War, known as the 588th Night Bomber Regiment); it won't be a comfortable ride for all, particularly if one has to deal with loneliness or isolation. Self-sacrifice and duty may be valuable aspects to serving a state when it comes to "Great Patriotic Wars", but it can be a double-edged sword when one sees the result played against people with a different perspective on just what that all means; each generation will have at least one defining moment that will infringe on their memory that will make them seem both a part of something special and apart from others. It is the sense of longing, the sense of wanting to have wings of freedom fly in the air without being held back, where hearing the words "let someone else do it" seems very, vert wrong. In short, it is a film about one's struggle to deal with the crisis of middle age as opposed to a straight-line hero in ideology. Bulgakova had a fairly steady number of roles over her multi-decade career, but this film is likely the best one she is known for, since she is tasked to carry the film mostly by herself, and she makes the best of it, as she captures the silent despair that comes with essentially being trapped in the amber of memories and insecurity. I think one of the most interesting scenes comes when Bulgakova's character is visiting a war museum that has a display of war heroes for a group of schoolchildren to see on a trip. We see one boy make a bet that he can hide from others (but not our lead focus) but also a girl who asks if all the people in the photos are dead - which include a photo of Bulgakova. Of course, the scene where she is trying to understand just how her on-screen daughter is getting married is a close second, because it shows the plight that comes with seeing people being free to make their choices without their doting parent looking on their shoulder (essentially the kid must spread their wings from the nest). The other members of the cast work well within interactions spent looking upon where the culture of the time seems to be going (with or without people left behind). The movie ends on its own terms, moving from spending most of its time in cramped spaces to a moment of free flight to the unknown, and that makes the experience generally worth it. While Shepitko may not have received the attention that other Soviet filmmakers would get for their features, there is surely something to be said about the way she moves through 81 minutes with a movie about isolation that seems quite relevant now more than ever.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Wanda (1970).

Munster, Go Home!

Review #1727: Munster, Go Home! 

Cast: 

Fred Gwynne (Herman Munster), Yvonne De Carlo (Lily Munster), Al Lewis (Grandpa), Butch Patrick (Eddie Munster), Debbie Watson (Marilyn Munster), Terry-Thomas (Freddie Munster), Hermione Gingold (Lady Effigie Munster), Robert Pine (Roger Moresby), John Carradine (Cruikshank), Bernard Fox (Squire Lester Moresby), and Richard Dawson (Joey) Directed by Earl Bellamy.

Review: 

To crib from cliché, remember The Munsters? Oh, I'm sure at least one of you is familiar with the television show, one that premiered (and ended) over a half century ago. But hey, a recap wouldn't hurt, particularly from someone who found themselves watching each of the 70 episodes of the show a year ago. The show ran from September 24, 1964 to May 12, 1966 on CBS. It was created by Allan Burns and Chris Hayward (who each had served as writers on The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show), who had submitted the idea to Universal Studios; Norm Liebman and Ed Haas were then tasked to write a pilot script, while Joe Connelly and Bob Mosher (creators of Leave It To Beaver) were producers. Perhaps it was a coincidence that a sitcom with tinges of the macabre aired right at the same time as another sitcom involving a family with the macabre aired with The Addams Family. Of course, this is a show involving ordinary folks in suburban life that just happen to look like monsters, so who knows in a decade that had plenty of interesting premises. In any case, right around the time of the second season, plans for a film were begun by Universal, who undoubtedly wanted to cash in on introducing the characters to a wider audience (i.e. folks outside the States that had not watched it yet - by the time the series ended its second and final season there were 70 episodes); production for the film began shortly after the end of the production of the series, and it was shot over the course of a month in Hollywood, complete in Technicolor (perhaps it is ironic that one factor attributed to the end of the show was the arrival of a campy competitor series in Technicolor with Batman). Tasked to write the film was Joe Connelly, Bob Mosher, George Tibbles, and Earl Bellamy (the latter three had written several episodes on the show while the latter directed seven episodes). 

The movie was not a major success at the time, but at least it can be said that the series managed to live on in syndication, and a reunion film and sequel series came about in the 1980s; attempts at re-booting the Munsters has persisted for over a decade (with the latest attempt being one directed by Rob Zombie). Honestly, I have mixed feelings about the show (one that attracted my interest because, well, how many TV shows think to do a sitcom with monster makeup?), one that was mildly effective with its attempts at, well, being a sitcom with campy values that had a bunch of puns and gags that came and went (one involving the only non-monster character being thought of as the ugly duckling, ha-ha, huh?). Honestly, the middling quality of the film is not a surprise to those who had watched the show, as if the only difference is not having a laugh track to help with chuckles. Perhaps comparing it to Batman '66 is unfair, but honestly that show seemed to do better with generating good natured humor in regard to how it took its situations with tongue-in-cheek nature, with its theatrical adaptation being just as interesting to watch on the big screen as it was on TV. To me, this is a thin plot that just happens to be 96 minutes long (weirdly enough, its failure influenced the makers behind Get Smart to not do a feature, instead turning the script into a three-part episode). Of course, this is like criticizing a tree for having a few dead branches - the tree does what it does, and it takes a fair eye to appreciate it. To its credit, one knows that the main group does their finest with keeping things on level, mostly with Gwynne (good natured despite plenty of makeup), De Carlo (the tying force), and Lewis (basically playing himself). There isn't a moment where they seem bored with what they are doing, and they each share little interesting moments that will draw a smile for those familiar with these folks (incidentally, they would reprise their roles one more time together with the TV film The Munsters Revenge 15 years later); the sequence between Gwynne and Lewis bumbling around the house looking for the supposed secret of the house is probably the best part of the film, complete with a quiet De Carlo sharing time with a bucket. Patrick has less to do than usual for the film, unless one counts "sleeping in the cupboard" as a thing. Watson replaced Pat Priest in a move felt to boost the then teenaged actress with the studio. She does okay, mostly because the role is quite ordinary to begin with, sharing time with Pine with very okay qualities. Terry-Thomas does fine as the key new face, making his cad presence known for fair chuckles to go with Gingold. Carradine, who, in a habit of being in anything, had actually appeared on the show a few times before, rounds out the cast with his usual lumbering presence within a face full of makeup that I'm sure folks familiar with him will appreciate in their own way. As a whole, my quibbles on the show should not affect the curiosity one can have with the film as a whole, since anyone who cares for the show will find a worthy time to spend here, one that has a few chuckles with a familiar group of folks that makes for a curious sight. There is just enough to sneak by without too many eye rolls (intentionally, anyway), and I suppose that should be just enough for those who are with what the movie wants to do in simple chuckle times with folks who look like creatures.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars. 

Ebirah, Horror of the Deep.

Review #1668: Ebirah, Horror of the Deep.

Cast: 

Akira Takarada (Yoshimura), Toru Watanabe (Ryota Kane), Toru Ibuki (Yata Kane), Chotaro Togin (Ichino), Hideo Sunazuka (Nita), Kumi Mizuno (Daiyo), Pair Bambi (the Shobijin), Jun Tazaki (Red Bamboo Commander), Akihiko Hirata (Red Bamboo Captain Ryuui), Hideyo Amamoto (Red Bamboo Captain Naval Officer), with Haruo Nakajima (Godzilla) and Hiroshi Sekita (Ebirah) Directed by Jun Fukuda.

Review: 

"All I can remember is that making GODZILLA VS. THE SEA MONSTER was like pouring two cups of water into one. I had to cut one sequence after another."

The funny thing to remember about Godzilla is that most of the movies end up with him fighting a big monster for perilous enjoyment, and they all build up to it in their own respective ways (i.e. cliché) that can lend for distinct movies. So far, Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster and Invasion of Astro-Monster have proven better in the first few of the Godzilla sequels, although obviously Godzilla vs. Mothra is also up there. Most of those films took place within military settings or within a city to build the set-up, which got considerably lighter after the first film. All is not quite what it seems with the island setting for this film. For one thing, the original working title was "Operation Robinson Crusoe: King Kong vs. Ebirah"; Rankin-Bass Productions, who was working on The King Kong Show (1966-1969) with Toei, rejected the idea, but Toho liked what they saw while replacing Kong with Godzilla. At any rate, Toho and Rankin-Bass would team up for King Kong Escapes (1967), which combined elements from the show alongside the spy genre as the second and last film that Toho made with the license on the character. Unlike other movies of the series, this movie was distributed in the States only on television, for which it was known as "Godzilla versus the Sea Monster". At helm for director is Jun Fukuda. Born in Japanese-occupied China, Fukuda studied in Japan with Japan Art University before serving in World War II. He was hired to work with Toho in 1951, where he would start as an assistant director. For the next ten years, he worked under directors on films such as So Young, So Bright (1955, directed by Toshio Sugie) and Rodan (1956, directed by Ishirō Honda) before getting his chance to direct in 1959 with Osorubeki hiasobi. He would do a variety of genres until his retirement in 1977 that ranged from action to comedy to science fiction. He was the third person to direct a Godzilla film and the first one to replace Ishiro Honda since Motoyoshi Oda helmed Godzilla Raids Again (1955). Over the next eight years, he would be tasked to direct four more Godzilla features from Son of Godzilla (1967) to Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla (1974). Over the course of his career with Godzilla, he would approach the films as action dramas, albeit ones that would be tightly filmed in budget and shooting. A modest man, Fukuda enjoyed working with the cast of this film (singling out Hirata and Mizuno), but he did not find any of the Godzilla be his favorites in his career. In one interview, he even was asked if there should have been any sequels to Godzilla in the first place, and he actually answered no (he also noted that he enjoyed making his comedy films more so than the monster movies), where even being sent a copy of the film he made by Toho was "like opening up an old wound."

For the first time in the series, Eiji Tsuburaya was not the director of special effects, since he shifted to supervisor; instead, it was Sadamasa Arikawa that served as special effects director, although he did not take kindly to the cheap demands by Toho, which Arikawa felt was because he could pushed around by them more so than with Tsuburaya (who had his own company and reputation by then). This was the fifth writing effort out of ten Godzilla features done by Shinichi Sekizawa. So instead of Godzilla rampaging the countryside of Japan, he is instead dormant for most of the movie on an island that also has Mothra in the distance in slumber while the focus is on a quartet of humans that are there after being shipwrecked by the title character (Ebirah; ebi incidentally is a shrimp prominent in Japanese cuisine) after looking for a missing brother...after losing a dance marathon contest that would've won a sailboat. Oh, and the island has a group of militants exploiting the land for a formula that keeps the crabby monster at bay. So...yeah, we are talking about a movie where Godzilla eventually fights a shrimp/crab that only seems to fight in the water and can be repelled by militants with a special island powder. I guess Mothra (making her fifth of six appearances in the original series, albeit with a somewhat deteriorating costume) fights Godzilla, in that it involves dust. Godzilla isn't exactly at the "Earth's defender" stage yet, merely placed in the "Well, I destroyed cities, but now I have shifted my interests to being my monster self, so muck off Mothra/Ebirah". Of the cast, Takarada, Hirata, Mizuno, Tazaki, and Nakajima are the most seasoned actors present in this film, and they are fine here, with Takarada and Hirata generally being the most interesting (although Mizuno makes impressions here and there, although the scene spent with Godzilla looking at her like Kong is a bit...weird). The others aren't boring, but the light pace mixed with its tone doesn't exactly make them quite interesting. I admire the scene where they think about their escape and about Godzilla "helping" them before they yell at him to jump off the soon-to-be exploding island; one could find it cynically amusing and ponder the fact that Godzilla lives on again to potentially "visit" another place in time only because someone told him to ump.

So yeah, one is really here to see what stuff will happen with Godzilla, for better or worse. Did I mention there is a condor fight? It actually is the worst fight scene of these films so far, mostly because one can't even see the fight clearly, and it seems appropriate that Godzilla fires it out of existence. Godzilla awakens in a sequence clearly meant to evoke other monsters: a lightning strike. I suppose it goes along with all the non-Godzilla aspects that make for a really cheesy pastiche of clichés, all of which start with comic bumbling and lead right into playing rock volleyball with Ebirah (the icing on the cake is a tribute shot to another movie with a character rubbing their nose...Godzilla, having just done a dance in the film before that). The pace is lighter, but it doesn't mean the movie moves any faster for enjoyment, particularly if one desires to see some interesting Godzilla action, and I suppose it could only set the stage for weirder entries in the series that will range from the offspring of Godzilla to a monster mash to children getting involved with the monsters - there were eight of these films made in the 1960s, and this was the fifth of those released.  If the music by Masaru Sato (a favorite of the director) is memorable for any reason, it is probably because the electric guitar manages to reverb like the James Bond theme, which can either be thought of as distinctive or distracting. In general, the movie acts as yet another cut into the burrowing decisions by Toho and others to shift Godzilla for children with a goal of doing it as fast and cheaply as possible. That isn't to say that Fukuda failed in brining in a new perspective with the film, because he does do a fine job here, but as a Godzilla movie it certainly does fall a bit flat in the lasting enjoyment department. If one can get through some filler to get to parts involving rubber suit monsters, you might have a time here, although the 87 minutes will either feel really short or tolerable enough to finish yet another Godzilla adventure. I can't give it a positive notice, because it doesn't exactly prove a triumph, but I can acknowledge it as a curiosity that may suit others in mind, five decades after the fact. 

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Daisies.

Review #1655: Daisies [Sedmikrásky]

Cast:

Jitka Cerhová (Marie I), Ivana Karbanová (Marie II), Marie Cešková (Woman in the bathroom), Jirina Myšková (Toilet lady), Marcela Brezinová (Toilet lady), Julius Albert (Older dandy), Oldrich Hora (Dandy), Jan Klusák (Young dandy), Josef Konícek (Dancer), and Jaromír Vomácka (Happy gentleman) Directed by Vera Chytilová.

Review:

“If there’s something you don’t like, don’t keep to the rules—break them. I’m an enemy of stupidity and simplemindedness in both men and women, and I have rid my living space of these traits."

Whether dealing with off-kilter youths or surrealism, the Czechoslovak New Wave certainly had a great flash of absurdity to burn bright with the directors that came with it, and Vera Chytilová found herself as one of the key players despite having only made her first feature film at the age of 34. Born in Ostrava, she had initially studied in philosophy and architecture while in college, but she decided to abandon those fields for further pursuits. She would work a variety of fields such as in modeling before having her first film job with clapper girl for Barrandov Film Studios that would help her find her passion to want to become a filmmaker. Later, she was accepted into the Film and TV School of the Academy of Performing Arts in Prague (FAMU) and graduated in 1962. Her short films received a bit of notice, but Something Different [O necem jiném] (1963) was a well-noted feature debut for Chytilova; the film balanced two narratives, one involving a fictional housewife and the other involving medalist Eva Bosáková involving human endeavors and their meaning in fulfilling oneself. Her next effort was the segment "At the World Cafeteria [Automat Svet]" for the anthology Pearls of the Deep [Perlicky na dne] (1966), and this feature film would be released shortly after that. As one might guess, this film did not find favor within certain sectors of civic service, with one describing it as "depicting the wanton", as leaders in the country did not take kindly to avant-garde fare that was felt to be a waste of funds along with not holding to their ideals. At any rate, audiences around Europe liked what they saw (not so much in America, but who's counting?), ranking as the highlight of her career; however, her career would be hindered by censorship troubles within civic sectors in 1968, but she would keep busy within filming commercials before getting to return to work within films and documentaries, doing so until her death in 2014. She wrote the story for this film along with co-writing the screenplay with Ester Krumbachová and Pavel Jurácek.

What is the best way to describe the film? How about we just use the words used by Chytilova: "a necrologue about a negative way of life.” She wanted to make a film with its own style that dared to go against the usual form, complete with changes in color throughout its 75 minute run-time (going all across the spectrum) with two characters named Marie (distinguished by Karbanová wearing a crown of flowers) that freewheel their way through whatever happens to them. Of course, she also once called it a morality play involving evil having potential roots within the malicious pranks of everyday life (as opposed to just destruction of war), where the youth is at their most fufilled to create...or destroy. It can and has been interpreted as a statement in terms of Dadaist or feminism, but it is up to the viewer to let the film speak for itself. Consider its opening sequence (or at least the one after footage of flywheels and airplane footage) and the initial conversation when it comes to the world and being rotten among a rotten world, or perhaps its closing statement in dedicating it to those who are upset only over "a stomped-upon bed of lettuce." (incidentally, the food destruction scene did not exactly please those in power). One can muse all they want about what it means to be good and hardworking to go alongside being happy, or how resolutions are not necessarily going to be clean ones. In that sense, one can not help but think of Luis Buñuel's Un Chien Andalou (1929), which ends up being quite a compliment. Undeniably, the highlight is the nourishment scene with a feast found by our main duo that they make a mess of. The nightclub scene proved a worthy take on anarchic amusement, but the feast plays its farce with excellent decadence, which naturally ends with them wearing what looks like paper-mache. Mayhem never seemed so fascinating, but with tinting and color changes to go with certain shots and cuts it does all the wonders for curious enjoyment, and the funny thing is that our two main actors weren't even professionals - Karbanova was a salesclerk and Cerhova was a student. They do quite well for what needs to happen in improvisation and mayhem in the style of freed puppets that do as they please for a film that never needs to put them in a sympathetic light; they make it all count for amusement in their antics of farce. The others do their part to act within the quirks exhibited by the duo that can range from smug to blathering for great effect. At 74 minutes, one certainly can find the time to see the film and see for themselves where the line goes in farce and philosophy in a bold free-formed kind of movie for those who seek narrative and visionary mayhem. A half century has only furthered the understanding of a film that has farce mixed into philosophy involving destruction that has made an intense curiosity in world cinema for those who seek it.

Next Time: We've reached the middle point of our theme month, so let's cover a documentary with Harlan County, USA.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

Blood Bath.

Review #1654: Blood Bath.

Cast:

William Campbell (Antonio Sordi), Karl Schanzer (Max), Lori Saunders (Dorian / Meliza), Sandra Knight (Donna Allen), Marissa Mathes (Daisy Allen), Sid Haig (The Tall Beatnik), Jonathan Haze (A Beatnik), Fred Thompson (Another Beatnik), Biff Elliot (Cafe Manager), and David Ackles (Carousel Operator) Written and Directed by Jack Hill and Stephanie Rothman.

Review:

What we have here is an interesting tale of two directors, each in their own beginnings of filmmaking. Born in New Jersey but raised in California, Stephanie Rothman did study in sociology with the University of California (Berkeley), but her focus to film came with a viewing of The Seventh Seal (1957). She subsequently did study with the University of Southern California in filmmaking, and she would earn a fellowship by the Directors Guild of America with her student film directing. She was hired by Roger Corman in 1964 to work as his assistant, and she would do a variety of tasks on films that could range from writing new scenes to final cut edits that had to be done on a set time and budget. Corman was ultimately the first and only mentor she would have when it came to filmmaking. Rothman would direct her first solo effort with It's a Bikini World (1967, although shot two years earlier) and follow it up with five further films in the next few years; her most noted film was The Student Nurses (1970), which ended up inspiring New World Pictures to make subsequent efforts within depicting nurses. Rothman's career stalled in 1974. Although she tried to find work within television and script treatments with her husband, no sales resulted from these efforts (her work in exploitation, which gave her a chance to direct, ended up as a stigma against her when trying to do work away from it). A decade of languishing misses and rejection of going back to exploitation led to her retirement, although she did find work to live on within real estate investment. On the other side, California native Jack Hill started an interest in film within study at UCLA's film school. One of his mentors would be Dorothy Arzner, and one of his classmates was Francis Ford Coppola, incidentally. Hill did a variety of side-work in his rise to the industry with Roger Corman that ranged from editing to contribution within writing/directing, such as shooting a 20-minute prologue to a TV version of The Wasp Woman (1959) or doing re-writes/direction for The Terror (1963). Hill made his formal directing debut with Mondo Keyhole (1966), which he co-directed with John Lamb. Ultimately, Hill would make fifteen films over the course of sixteen years, which ranged from horror with films like Spider Baby to lesser-known works such as The Incredible Invasion (1971, the last of four that Hill directed the US sequences in USA-Mexico productions that all had Boris Karloff as star before his death) and blaxploitation such as Coffy (1973).

Okay, history time. It all started with a film that was slated to be released in Yugoslavia that was named Operacija Ticijan [Operation Titian] (1963), starring William Campbell, Rade Markovic, and Patrick Magee. It was a thriller film involving a stolen painting, and Roger Corman (on vacation in Europe at the time) ended up being a silent partner in the hopes that he could acquire it and Americanize the feature for release later. Francis Ford Coppola was behind script supervision, interestingly enough. However, the final result was something not quite suitable for the drive-in circuit. He commissioned a re-cut and re-scored edit, which was known as Portrait in Terror. Somehow, it did not satisfy Corman, although a re-edited version of that cut would find its way into television; enter Hill, who was tasked to take the footage and write/shoot new material to go on top of what could be used with Campbell in tow (who reportedly got a nice check for his services, which angered Corman and makes me smirk a little), which turned a spy thriller into a horror film. Somehow, this version (known as Blood Bath) was still not suitable enough for Corman. Two years later, Corman wanted to try again, so he hired Rothman to make her own edits in the story while shooting new footage. So now a film that had a killer artist was changed to a killer artist vampire. To add on to this, Campbell did not participate in the re-shoots, so now Rothman had a film with a vampire lead that would have to re-cast its main lead for the vampire scenes (an actor that has not been identified). Corman at last found something worth releasing despite a film with two directors/writers that never even met and they all lived happily...nope, the story isn't over. There is yet one more version of this film that is called Track of the Vampire, which included just a little more footage to play on television (Rothman/Hill's film lasted 69 minutes). Funny enough, you probably wouldn't even know Corman's fingerprints are there at all, because he doesn't even have an on-screen credit. Rothman would later call it a "mish-mosh", while Hill thought it was "totally ruined" by the changes made to his original cut.

So...we have a Yugoslavian film that got edited / re-shot into two television films AND two feature films, and the one that we are focusing on today is the one with Rothman & Hill on the credit (strangely enough, the one cut entirely by Hill is missing, but all the other ones are there). If one intends to watch the film, the best version to watch it would be a recent release that includes a video essay by Tim Lucas that includes detail of the whole saga of what became Blood Bath with interviews that likely make for an interesting hour to listen to (a full detail also is found with a series of articles done in Video Watchdog). Of course I forgot to mention that in this portrait of a killer artist, there are also beatniks included within the process, so one really seems to be in for a familiar rendition of A Bucket of Blood. Honestly, the beatnik stuff seemed better the first time around, what with its rendition of "beatnik slang" alongside its legend about vampire artists; my favorite head-slapping moment is someone mentioning to Knight's character about a tower and the legend having "peculiar things" happening before telling them to find it for themselves because they have their own problems (that's one way to inspire someone to read up on vampires and say exposition). Hill definitely had more of the prints involved when it comes to matching his horror type over Rothman's more conscious style in women's films (although both obviously were cut on the cloth of cheap filmmaking). Trying to guess who made what can be a doozy, but just know that the film probably didn't make any more sense when it was just Hill at the helm...of shooting/re-writes - the fact that it is only an hour long might come from the fact that the seams would probably have snapped if one tried to put more logic if it lasted longer than that. In other words, the only thing to say is that the history behind its making is far more efficient than the actual result - a mess. An amusing mess with curious moments, but a mess. Campbell is a capable guy, but he can only do so much with a role that is bargain-bin killer at best, and the fact that there is a different actor in the terror scenes dilutes credibility in the same way one would see in a creature feature where someone wears a weird costume with a lack of time to act (so The Man from Planet X, but not as good). It all goes on how one views the death scenes, which can range from a decent sequence involving a friendly conversation leading to a cleaver...to someone being chased into a pool and drowned (for some reason). The fact that two of the actresses in the film look similar to each other at any rate makes this an even sillier affair. The other actors act as one could expect from patchwork, which results in distinct levels of mediocrity, with the beatnik aspects having that middling feeling of semi-seriousness that one could only bear in irony drenched in insomnia. At least one could give credit to folks like Haig (who had starred in one of Hill's short films) for not wilting like a confused cat (despite having a conflict of timing that means there are scenes with/without a beard). Saunders is okay, but the focus is technically more on Knight before we are baited and switched on who the focus is (not that it matters anyway, since one can barely make head or tails about who or what matters in the first place in plot). Schanzer is the bare minimum for folks to focus on, seeming like an abstract of a lead hero than anything. For a film with a bloody title, the count of four is probably more about what could be salvaged than any real sense of terror - it is a jumble, where the vampire twist borders on the idea that you the viewer are going to buy into a deranged descendant of a vampire that happens to change his face before turning them into wax for art...which then turn on him for the climax. Rothman and Hill's assembly of footage into what was one film into four others is a curious tale, but for a movie it is easily too average for its own good. At least Rothman and Hill can each say they went on to better things in filmmaking.

Next Time: On the shortlist a few months ago, now seems like a good time to reach out for Daisies [Sedmikrásky] (1966).

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.