Messiah of Evil.

Review #2622: Messiah of Evil.

Cast: 

Michael Greer (Thom), Marianna Hill (Arletty Lang), Joy Bang (Toni), Anitra Ford (Laura), Royal Dano (Joseph Lang), Elisha Cook Jr (Charlie), Charles Dierkop (gas attendant), Bennie Robinson (albino trucker), and Walter Hill (victim in prologue) Written, Produced and Directed by Gloria Katz and Willard Huyck (#1704 - Howard the Duck)

Review: 

I guess it makes sense to pick a possible "cult favorite" every now and then. You might remember that Gloria Katz and Willard Huyck were a married screenwriting duo that had a notable connection in filmmaking when Huyck met George Lucas when each were students at USC and their film school. Huyck and Katz were hired by Lucas to work on a treatment for what eventually became American Graffiti. The resulting success on its August 1973 release came right as Katz and Huyck were to do their first film together with, well, Messiah of Evil. It was a low-budget movie that had several of their friends play bit parts (Walter Hill, Billy Weber, Bill L. Norton). Apparently, Katz co-directed the film with Huyck (sources list her as uncredited) in what was her only directorial credit. The movie either finished as it was planned or it was left* with a few scenes left to actually finish (honestly, the latter seems more there) before just being dropped into theaters in December 1974. There apparently were multiple titles that the film got released in for later years, such as "Return of the Living Dead", "Revenge of the Screaming Dead", "Night of the Damned", and "Dead People". Katz once called it a "real bowwow", although Huyck eventually warmed to the film, even attending a sold-out Q/A screening for it in later years. The following year after the release of Messiah, Huyck and Katz got tasked to do script-work on Lucky Lady [1975] before working on French Postcards [1979].

What's there to say that isn't merely just stating things that occur in the film? You might wonder what the film is about. Well, in the vaguest way possible, a woman tells of what happened when she visited a coastal town to see her artist father only to find a diary of his strange experiences alongside a few strangers that happen to need to stay at the place because of strange things that only get stranger (I suppose it's not a spoiler to say it starts at the loony bin). People gather around bonfires to stare at the moon while people's eyes weep blood and a "dark stranger" apparently may return 100 years after being a survivor of the Donner Party. Around that is a variety of things that happen from albino truckers to narration to basically carry what isn't evident. This is...one of those movies where you really, really need to experience the "atmosphere" and see if it actually will hit for you in the unsettling manner that comes through in all-consuming, all-bewildering dread. Hill doesn't really get much to actually say besides reacting to what is going on (around her and to her with the vomiting insects), which works in some ways to accompany her growing fear that doesn't exactly get a chance to really explode at what actually comes out in the art of unsettled lunacy. The best sequence might be in the movie theater with a growing array of people coming inside that actually shows some sort of terror on screen. You have to fill in some of the blanks with the looming terror because damned if the movie is going to allow you to have an easy time doing it, particularly when it ends just as abruptly as it starts, because nothing is that easy to resolve. As a whole, Messiah of Evil is basically a dreamscape type of movie, one that will either hit the chords required for off-putting interest in what is said and left unsaid or will pass through with the bare minimum of "well, that was a movie". For me, it was pretty okay, and I suppose that is a tacit endorsement worth checking out least once on a dreary night.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Next up: Keeping it a surprise.

Song of the day!

*Anita Ford claimed this as such: Anitra Ford's Personal Blog: Be afraid, very afraid -- for 6 minutes

Foxy Brown.

Review #2353: Foxy Brown.

Cast: 

Pam Grier (Foxy Brown), Antonio Fargas (Lincoln "Link" Brown), Peter Brown (Stevie Elias), Kathryn Loder (Miss Katherine Wall), Terry Carter (Dalton Ford / Michael Anderson), Harry Holcombe (Judge Fenton), Sid Haig (Hays), Juanita Brown (Claudia), Bob Minor (Oscar), and Tony Giorgio (Eddie) Written and Directed by Jack Hill (#1654 - Blood Bath, #1740 - Spider Baby, and #2352 - Coffy)

Review: 

Sure, maybe one can't make a sequel to a successful hit, but they can sure make one that sounds right on the same wavelength. The resulting hit of Coffy made it easy to want to make another Grier movie involving action, albeit not as a sequel that Hill envisioned because American International Pictures apparently believed sequels did not do well with audiences.  Evidently, this was released by AIP as a double feature with Truck Turner. While it wasn't nearly as substantial a hit as Coffy (released thirteen months prior), it was generally well-liked enough and Grier continued her run in movies the following year with Sheba, Baby and Friday Foster. Evidently, Foxy Brown apparently became more of a cult curiosity than Coffy although Hill felt the earlier effort was better, particularly with the character he envisioned that could use their sexuality just as much as using down and dirty street fighting. Hill actually had two films released in 1974, with The Swinging Cheerleaders coming out a month after this movie; apparently, AIP treated Hill lousy enough to not even invite him to a screening of the film, which he shot in less than three weeks (the movie, which runs at 92 minutes, apparently was made on the same budget as Coffy at $500,000, albeit with a raise to both its director and star).

Admittedly, it is funny to make a movie that isn't quite a sequel while also not exactly having time to say the profession of the lead. She just kicks ass and seeks revenge against the scuzziness of the street (which even involved would-be politicians). Instead of a sister that fell to heroin addiction, now we have someone with a scuzzy brother and a dead government boyfriend who, interestingly enough, faces off against a couple involved in a drug/prostitute syndicate (strangely enough, it has a similar ending to the other movie in having a man get castrated). At least you get flashier wardrobe from Grier to go with plenty of violence and skin? I have to agree with Hill that Coffy was the better of the two movies, mainly because of the actual shock value that comes in a kickass lead that doesn't need to be a karate expert but instead is, well, Pam Grier. Sure, she may not get much to actually do that is particularly different from before with a little less guilt in the whole "vengeance" thing, but she still commands the screen just as well as before for obvious reasons. It is clear empowerment, and one is having fun while doing it, what more could you want? This actually was the last (of three) movies where Loder appeared, as she died of diabetes at the age of 38 in 1978. She grips the role with the right amount of chewing, at least compared with Brown (mostly known for Western roles), who dawdles a bit in showing menace. Haig actually appeared in both this and Coffy (where he played a heavy pretty well), and while he may have small time to do comedy, it works out fine I suppose. It definitely tries to up the ante in sheer audacity, whether that means a barroom fight or our lead lighting a farm (and two people) on fire after being sexually assaulted, or the appeal to a "neighborhood committee" to not only get revenge but to, well, play with a knife on a man's lower section. As a whole, it definitely is a slicker movie than Coffy that for better or worse does exactly what you would expect in shameless entertainment that will likely deliver the goods for what you want from a movie of its time.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

The Street Fighter.

Review #2342: The Street Fighter.

Cast: 

Sonny Chiba (Takuma Tsurugi), Yutaka Nakajima (Sarai Chuayut-Hammett), Goichi Yamada (Rakuda Zhang), Masashi Ishibashi (Tateki Shikenbaru), Etsuko Shihomi (Nachi Shikenbaru), Masafumi Suzuki (Kendō Masaoka), Chiyoko Kazama (Yang Gei-chuan), and Nobuo Kawai (Tetsunosuke Tsuchida) Directed by Shigehiro Ozawa.

Review: 

You might wonder what the fuss is about with old-fashioned fighting, dubbing or not. This was the breakthrough role for Sonny Chiba, who had over a decade of work in television and thrillers (Key Hunter was roughly popular in its run from 1968-1973, with Chiba as a featured presence); he also had his own training school for martial artist actors and stunt performers. Chiba had wanted to work with Bruce Lee because of the interest people had in the show in Hong Kong, although obviously Lee's death put an end to that. The movie was initially released by the Toei Company in February of 1974, having wanted to do their own martial arts movie after seeing the success of Enter the Dragon (1973).  The resulting script was written by Kōji Takada and Motohiro Torii.  This is the most notable movie from its director in Shigehiro Ozawa, a Nagano native who directed over a hundred movies from 1954 to 1976 before he died in 2004 at the age of 82. The Street Fighter quickly found a distributor in the States with New Line Cinema (in Japan, the movie was originally titled Gekitotsu! Satsujin-ken, which translates to Clash! Killer Fist, but I'm sure you see how the American re-naming fits anyway) that found itself with an X-rating...the first movie to get the rating solely for violence (wonder if the babies who complained about horror movies having gore had anything to say about this movie). Yes, this is the movie that you could see X-ray skull punches. Ozawa directed the two follow-up Fighter films that were released in 1974: Return of the Street Fighter (released in April) and The Street Fighter's Last Revenge (released in November). A spinoff series with Sister Street Fighter also came out around this time (with its own director in charge that is probably known even less than Ozawa with Kazuhiko Yamaguchi).

Admittedly, it has a cheap thrill aspect, regardless of if you watch the original version, or the, uh, dubbed version. You've got ridiculously contrived ideas of prison breaks, goofy companions, countless assassination attempts on a clearly intense man, and, well, a real hoot for an ending. Lean and mean in a manner that balances the tightrope of entertainment without losing credibility, one clearly sees a star worth checking out further with Chiba. Look, if you can't get with a movie that sees a man accidentally leading to another man falling out of a window and then deciding to sell a person to slavery because they owe him money, I don't know what to tell you. It all relies on the power of Chiba in a performance that isn't exactly detailed beyond primal expressions and handiwork to match that will fit just as well for a horror movie if you get down to it (evidently Chiba liked that people still appreciated his character years later, as evidenced here). One scene even has him tear a guy's...sensitive parts, just to name one scene in particular. Ozawa and company had an assignment and just went with what looked like the best angle possible for those action sequences that come in and out (to say nothing of the attempts at comic relief) for what obviously had to being grinded out to reach 91 minutes, but I do respect the hustle of just making some action scenes that stand out a bit from the usual martial arts stuff. It can't top Enter the Dragon in any particular department, but sheer will in riding with a star presence from the word go that at least can be called an adequate partner to go with, say, The Big Boss (1971). The movie barely even bothers with having an adversary to match with Chiba, unless you count a condemned murderer set up to escape and maybe fight our hero (interpret the word how you like) that gets the highlight of having their *vocal cords ripped out* as a quality presence. But the climax gets you intrigued of what mayhem could happen next with Chiba, so that is a win in my book. Ultimately, The Street Fighter is a relatively decent production, managing to grind its way towards engagement for the action enjoyer at heart, fisting fury with guts and amoral commitment that manages to not wear out its welcome. 

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Alice in the Cities.

Review #2332: Alice in the Cities.

Cast: 

Rüdiger Vogler (Philip Winter), Yella Rottländer (Alice van Dam), Lisa Kreuzer (Lisa van Dam), Edda Köchl (Angela), Ernest Boehm (Philip's editor), Sam Presti (Car Dealer), and Lois Moran (the Pan Am booking agent) Directed by Wim Winders.

Review: 

"The most pure is still definitely Alice in the Cities because it was my discovery of my own turf and my own territory which was the road, and the first film I made on the road and the first time I had discovered storytelling as a very free gift and not as something with a lot of rules."

It occurred to me that I haven't covered too many German directors recently, and it only seems appropriate to finally get around to a Wim Wenders movie, complete with a pivotal one for a director at a crossroads of what he should do. Wenders was born in Düsseldorf in Germany, and he actually had an interest in still photography as a youth. He actually studied medicine and philosophy before trying his hand at painting. It happened to be that his obsession with cinema (such as the works of John Ford) led him to try his hand at filmmaking; he failed entry test at France's national film school but found a studio office back in his hometown to work and eventually studied at the University of Television and Film Munich while also working as a film critic. He made his first short films in school before graduating with his feature debut in Summer in the City (1970), which had influence from a "great hero" of his in John Cassavetes. He then made his next film with The Goalkeeper's Fear of the Penalty (1972), a West German-Austria co-production that evidently took influence from Alfred Hitchcock. His dissatisfaction with the German/Spanish co-production of his next assignment with The Scarlet Letter (1973) led him to consider a different line of approach. Incidentally, that movie features Rottländer and Vogler in small roles. Wenders was inspired by the experiences that Peter Handke (a writer on three of Wenders' films) had as a single parent and probably just as inspired by Handke's 1972 novel Short Letter, Long Farewell, which was about an alienated writer making a journey across America. He also took inspiration from the Chuck Berry song "Memphis, Tennessee", which was about a man trying to re-connect with his daughter. However, he almost did not do the movie at all because he happened to come across the release of Paper Moon (1973) because, well, it coincidentally felt similar to what Winders had in mind for his movie. However, he was persuaded by none other than Samuel Fuller to convince to not give up. Taking inspiration from the photography of Walker Evans (famously known for his large format photography during the Great Depression), the movie was filmed in sequence from North Carolina to the eventual result in Europe as an improvised shoot (as shot by Robby Müller on 16mm rather than 35mm because of budgetary constraints, but the movie was framed for it the way they wanted to, which helped for a subsequent restoration). The film is considered as the first of a "Road Trilogy" crafted by Wenders, likely because his next two films with The Wrong Move (1975) and Kings of the Road (1976) each dealt with the road and had Vogler as star. An active director and photographer for over a half-century, one can find numerous highlights of Wenders such as Paris, Texas (1984), Wings of Desire (1987), the documentary Buena Vista Social Club (1999) and most recently, Perfect Days (2023).

What we have here is a wandering piece of curiosity, one that captures a special type of feeling that arises from being unable to do anything other than take photographs in the guise of trying to "craft a story". There is a loneliness that arises in the imagination one can have with this film, since it has plenty of breathing room with its double act of Vogler and Rottländer that just vibes on its own terms in crisscross neatness. The journey is one of absorption rather than finding some sort of meaning to it all, and it probably is noteworthy to say that Winders "felt like a fish in the water" when it came to making the film, one where he could go into an adventure with drifters that sure find "something" in the eyes of travelling with one's eyes rather than seeing it, if you will (a half century later, consider how far one has come since the Polaroid SX-70 in "instant photographs of things"). Rottländer appeared in a handful of films as a youth before moving on to costume designing and eventually a medical doctor. She arrives in the picture not too long into its trappings (110 minutes) and basically snatches the show with her spry energy, one that seems quite natural in expressing the free quirks that come with both the road and becoming an actual person beyond the imagery of oneself. The character played by Vogler has been said in some circles as being the alter ego of Winders in his time and this works out for a worthwhile performance in the drift towards burning in for responsibility rather than burning out into oblivion, particularly when matched with the enigmatic Kreuzer for a few scenes. One hits the road of uncertainty with reasoned assurance with a duo that maneuver the countryside (sometimes with a choice music cue) with absorbing grace that could only come from a filmmaker wanting to let a movie breathe in being an image of the street rather than just capturing it, which works just as well for the ending in closing right on the point needed. As a whole, this is a movie wrapped in the glow of a journey worth taking in feeling and seeing the images for oneself.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

We begin 2025 with the fourth edition of New Directors Month, which you might remember had started with Metropolis for 2024. Through the month of January, we'll feature over ten filmmakers (Shigehiro Ozawa, Stephen Frears, just to name a few) that Movie Night hasn't managed to talk about in the previous fourteen seasons. Onward. 

Madhouse (1974)

Review #2305: Madhouse.

Cast: 

Vincent Price (Paul Toombes), Peter Cushing (Herbert Flay), Adrienne Corri (Faye Carstairs Flay), Robert Quarry (Oliver Quayle), Natasha Pyne (Julia Wilson), Michael Parkinson (T.V. Interviewer), Linda Hayden (Elizabeth Peters), Barry Dennen (Gerry Blount), Ellis Dale (Alfred Peters), Catherine Willmer (Louise Peters), and John Garrie (Inspector Harper) Directed by Jim Clark.

Review: 

As it turned out, this was the final film that Vincent Price appeared in for the illustrious (interpret the word all you want) American International Pictures. He had appeared in over a dozen of their film productions since House of Usher (1960). Price (then by his sixties) wasn't exactly left without work of course; he just merely didn't do as many films as he did with his regular appearances on television in the remainder of his career. This was a co-production between AIP and Amicus Productions (as founded by Max Rosenberg and Milton Subotsky). The movie is loosely based on the novel Devilday by Angus Hall; development had started in 1970 when AIP purchased the novel rights. Robert Fuest (the guy behind those Dr. Phibes films that had Price) was at one point tapped to direct but nothing came of it. Jim Clark was recruited to direct, having previously done The Christmas Tree (1966), Every Home Should Have One (1970), and Rentadick [1972]). Greg Morrison's script was apparently bad enough that Price wanted re-writes, which led to Ken Levison doing revisions while they were shooting the film (Robert Quarry supposedly did re-writes for a chunk of dialogue as well). Referring to the finished film as "stillborn" (one that had re-edits imposed by Subotsky, who was disliked by Price just as much as he disliked Arkoff). Clark never directed a feature again, although his contributions to films such as Midnight Cowboy (1969) ended up being his legacy to go along with editing, which included the Academy Award-winning work in Marathon Man (1976) and The Killing Fields (1984); Clark died at the age of 84 in 2016.

You'd think there would be something a bit more there with a film mentioning "special participation" by recently departed actors (Basil Rathbone and Boris Karloff had worked with Price on some of those AIP films, and it was Samuel Z. Arkoff who insisted the clips be included in the film by any means necessary). It is a fairly decent movie that just happens to pale in comparison to the real pinnacle of Price and his theatricality in Theatre of Blood (1973). You will find a few interesting things here involving carefully-constructed horror that is at least semi-amusing. Cushing and Price had appeared in two earlier films but hadn't shared any scenes together prior to this film (with Scream and Scream Again and the Phibes sequel); they starred in one more film with House of the Long Shadows [1983]. They have some fun together, most notably with the climax that tries to make sense of the actual killer (the idea of a would-be actor being the age of Cushing, then in his sixties, is probably a bit too out there, but the forgiving type won't be too hard on it). Price might not have been big on AIP (he was quoted by Clark as referring to Arkoff and company as a word that rhymes with "mocksucker"), but he still gives it his best try anyway. You get a bit of fake "backstage filmmaking" action to go with a middling procedural (which reminds me a bit of Strait-Jacket) that has him stumble onto being interviewed by an actual interviewer in Parkinson for a chuckle. Corri is at least semi-effective in weird eerie timing that I appreciate, which is more than one can say for some of the supporting people that basically aren't given much to do anyway (Quarry included). The movie is incredibly predictable (just who could it be when you think of name actors?) but is bolstered by at least having a useful "Dr. Death" getup and some amusing moments to perhaps be enough for 91 minutes of an evening. Mild farewells for films that remind one of the old films are better than no farewells at all. People who like Price films might not have a great one on their hands here, but it at least is something that can be watched without having too many moments of embarrassment to see play out.

Overall, I give 7 out of 10 stars.

For Halloween: The Week After VI: one year later for a Wes Craven film, The Hills Have Eyes.

Phantom of the Paradise.

Review #2304: Phantom of the Paradise.

Cast: 

Paul Williams (Swan / singing voice of the Phantom), William Finley (Winslow Leach / the Phantom), George Memmoli (Arnold Philbin), Gerrit Graham (Beef; Raymond Louis Kennedy as singing voice), Jessica Harper (Phoenix), Mary Margaret Amato (Swan's groupie), Janis Eve Lynn (a groupie), Cheryl Smith (a groupie), with Archie Hahn, Jeffrey Comanor & Harold Oblong (the Juicy Fruits / the Beach Bums / the Undeads), and Rod Serling (the introductory voice) Written and Directed by Brian De Palma (#801 - Mission: Impossible, #1230 - Carrie, #1471 - Scarface, #2139 - Sisters)

Review: 

"I've always thought rock and horror were very close stylistically. I felt I had a solution in combining two separate audiences. Obviously, I didn't."

In 1974, when Halloween night became November morning, a movie came out with elements borrowed from a variety of literary sources from Gaston Leroux's The Phantom of the Opera to Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray to the famed Faust legend that was directed by Brian De Palma. You might remember that he had just scored a pretty decent hit with Sisters (1972), his sixth feature film but first with considerable attention. Interestingly, the root for making the film was De Palma hearing a Beatles song in an elevator played as "muzak" to go along with experiences trying to pitch material to indifferent executives and an idea from his friends (Mark Stone and John Weiser) about a "Phantom of the Fillmore"; De Palma wrote the film, although apparently Louisa Rose (his co-writer for the aforementioned Sisters film contributed, but the original screenplay just lists De Palma). Apparently, it was a chance meeting of De Palma with Williams at A&M Records while the former was trying to raise money for the film that led to the casting seen in the film because of his particular "look". This was the first major role for Paul Williams, who previously appeared in minor roles such as Battle for the Planet of the Apes (1973) while becoming a noted professional songwriter, most notably writing the lyrics to songs such as "We've Only Just Begun" to go along with being a regular on the TV circuit. The movie was independently financed (with funding from real estate guy Gustave Berne, who actually was a co-producer on Theatre of Blood), but it found a place at 20th Century Fox because of producer Edward Pressman, who sold the film to the one who happened to bid the highest. The movie was a flop at the time of release, even with such promising ideas from Fox to have costume parties held at its big-city premieres (it was apparently on Halloween night, after all; Pressman has stated that the promotions focused more on the music and specifically Williams were ineffective for the film and he later did his own promotion of the film as "horror phantasy"). However, viewers in Winnipeg (Manitoba, Canada), they apparently loved it enough for the movie to be screened for several weeks (okay, Paris apparently was cool with the film, but Movie Night loves the city of Winnipeg far more than the country of France; besides, one came up with "Phantompalooza"). Well, there was one considerable influence the film had: music duo Daft Punk apparently cited the film as their foundation point as a favorite of theirs. The next film for De Palma would be Obsession (1976), which would end up as a decent hit before he made some film about teenage revenge.

Musical, comedy, horror, it's a delight depending on what genre you're looking for (for those questioning its place in the latter category, call it the horrors of selling one's soul and get back to me). If you appreciate films like The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975; emphasis on "you", because I sure didn't), it surely will have an electrifying effect for its viewer in enjoyable glam-like rock and acid-tongue humor for a particular industry that happens to have a game cast. De Palma really believed even in 1969 (as per production note research) that rock and horror were merging with the growing success of the Rolling Stones and Alice Cooper and thus a film should be done in the rock world beyond concert films, and I think I see where he was going with that vision for a movie that is delirious and rapid in execution. It is a broad movie where you feel every beat and every style; one critic called it an "elaborate disaster", and I fail to see how that was meant to be criticism; it's a movie about people sealing deals in blood, what do you expect?. True to form, Williams really does pull off the standout performance as both composer and actor for this film, managing to be conniving in the great double-act that can be both soul-sucking and darkly amusing. Finlay makes for a worthwhile tragic figure, robbed of his soul and his livelihood to the point where he is figuratively bound to a person with devastating results. Graham provides great amusement in his interpretation of glam rock (he may not get to provide his own vocals, but he sure moved like he did them) in great theatricality to go along with support from Memmoli and a young Harper. The film is electrifying and actually pretty funny in its look on the music industry and the exploitative horrors that come with art that is prey to big business (note the changing band played by the same people that starts and close the film), and that includes the women that are seen exploited in certain ways (take note of the auditions) as well. It is a demented and worthwhile film that may very well become even more interesting to look upon in rewatches, which is quite the compliment for the true mix of horror-comedy-musical you would hope for anytime and anywhere.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Now then, we enter a tradition that I enjoy making up so November can start off well, with the last five Novembers seeing: Dracula [1979] (2019), Revenge of the Creature (Part II, 2020), Halloween Kills (Part 3, 2021) The Cat and the Canary (4.0, 2022), and Lifeforce (Year Five, 2023). 

For Halloween: The Week After VI, let's go with Madhouse tomorrow night.

Deranged (1974).

Review #2264: Deranged.

Cast: 

Roberts Blossom (Ezra Cobb), Cosette Lee (Amanda Cobb), Leslie Carlson (Tom Simms), Robert Warner (Harlon Kootz), Marcia Diamond (Jenny Kootz), Brian Smeagle (Brad Kootz), Arlene Gillen (Miss Johnson), Robert McHeady (Sheriff), and Marian Waldman (Maureen Selby) Directed by Jeff Gillen and Alan Ormsby.

Review: 

"One of the things that I was fascinated in the making of this film and the process was the parts that Alfred Hitchcock totally chose to ignore or overlook and only used a very minimal part and that was the amount of dress-up and disguise. The actual Ed Gein's actual putting on bits and pieces of skin and flesh and making musical instruments and useful tools. He was extremely fascinated by the bits and pieces of bones and flesh that he put together and I thought this part was fairly interesting. We made a point out of trying to make this scene as frightening as possible and in the process, there is a very fine line between what is funny and what is horrible. I think we were able to cross that line back and forth a few different times in the film when you were absolutely at the height of your laughter and then all suddenly, we would hit you some horrible image and that was the sort of the thing we were hoping to do." - Jeff Gillen

Sure, you've heard of a film based on the serial killings of Ed Gein. The Psycho novel (and ensuing film) was inspired by the situation that arose of a small-town seeing murders without anyone suspected...which happened to be the discovery of just what Gein had been doing that had rocked the nation in the late 1950s (even hearing the words "skin keepsakes" is an understatement) in Wisconsin. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (released in October of 1974) took loose inspiration in the same year Deranged came out. This film actually was made on a higher budget than the aforementioned Chainsaw film, one that was funded by a concert promoter (Tom Karr) that was made with Canadian crew members in Ontario. There was also a Ukranian film studio used for filming. Somehow, Deranged (sometimes referred to with a subtitle of "Confessions of a Necrophile", which is better than the original working title of "Necromania"), a film distributed by American International Pictures in March 1974, was just a mild hit that languished away with mild curiosity. Ormsby had gotten his start in movies by working with Bob Clark on Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things (1972), which he wrote and provided the effects for.  Clark was an uncredited producer on the film. Ormsby would direct just two further films: The Great Masquerade (1974) and Popcorn (1991). He was mostly known as a writer for a variety of films, such as My Bodyguard (1980), the 1982 remake of Cat People and Porky's II: The Next Day (1983). This was the only film directed by Jeff Gillen, who actually was an actor in a handful of films prior to his death in 1995, most notably as Santa in A Christmas Story (1983); coincidence or not, Gillen also wrote one film in She-Man (1967), which as with Story, were directed by Clark. Footage was deleted from the film in order to avoid an X-rating (such as scooping around a head with a spoon), which only came out on home video nearly two decades later. Evidently, Karr was later found to have committed fraud against AIP and a partner when he didn't disclose a partner prior to making a deal with AIP; Karr would produce just one further film. 

This actually is a pretty grim movie when you get down to it, one where the madman really can live among us in a small town. The framing device of the reporter gets a bit old after a while, mostly because it seems almost amusing to see him in the shot as if he was about to be hit himself. This was actually the first major role for Blossom, who actually had made his feature debut with The Hospital (1971) after doing a handful of stage and TV work since the late 1950s; there is a certain Christmas-related feature he is likely best known for in films, but this was basically his one main role all for himself, having been cast by Karr over guys like Harvey Keitel and Christopher Walken. I would say he did a tremendous job in this unnerving portrait that dominates the film in crisp form. His loneliness and methods to try and cope with his broken nature makes for such a strange creature to watch for a whole film (82 minutes) because of his cadence. The trouble that affects someone who sees all women besides his mother as part of the wages of sin ("gonorrhea, syphilis, and death!”) is handled with gusto in the second half more than anything. Ormsby wrote the film, albeit with a suggestion by Karr, who suggested that the main character brought the corpse of his mother home to feed and talk with her, which deviated from Gein. Ormsby was the head of the makeup department, with Tom Savini serving as his assistant for his first film credit (which had a bunch of effects created through chicken wire and model kits); he worked for Clark and Ormsby with Deathdream, also released in 1974. They do pretty well in such grisly detail that reminds one just how death really can look one in the face. Lee is mostly present in voice to remind Blossom of the lessons that are unnerving enough when one remembers the others are mostly there to serve as set pieces for the ordinary,...except for Waldman, who is amusing in the sequence where she tries to maneuver Blossom with tales of her dead husband and her needs. In that sense, this is a worthwhile feature in the horrors that arise from a town that doesn't think too much about the oblivious man with seemingly polite silence. The deep horrors that lie beneath the ordinary is a strange one to watch play out for a movie that deserves to be acknowledged in its 50th anniversary year.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell.

Review #2263: Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell.

Cast: 

Peter Cushing (Baron Victor Frankenstein / Dr. Carl Victor), Shane Briant (Dr. Simon Helder), Madeline Smith (Sarah "Angel" Klauss), David Prowse (the Creature / Herr Schneider), John Stratton (Asylum Director Adolf Klauss), Michael Ward (Transvest), Elsie Wagstaff (Wild one), Norman Mitchell (Police Sergeant), Clifford Mollison (Judge), Patrick Troughton (bodysnatcher), Philip Voss (Ernst), Christopher Cunningham (Hans), and Charles Lloyd-Pack (Professor Durendel) Directed by Terence Fisher (#257 - The Curse of Frankenstein, #258 - Dracula [1958], #272 - The Hound of the Baskervilles [1959], #469 - The Revenge of Frankenstein, #833 - Spaceways, #857 - Frankenstein Created Woman, #858 - Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed, #859 - Dracula: Prince of Darkness, #1280 - The Brides of Dracula, #2096 - The Mummy [1959])

Review: 

Admittedly, the Frankenstein series operated by Hammer needed a rest. This was the seventh and final feature of a saga that had started nearly two decades prior with The Curse of Frankenstein (1957). Cushing, if one remembers correctly, had appeared in all but The Horror of Frankenstein (1970), which was the ill-fated attempt to start anew with a different Frankenstein that no one cared about. This was the 50th feature film directed by Terence Fisher. He was a craftsman at getting movies done, doing a variety of features one could put for a double feature (crime or otherwise), such as his first effort for Hammer with The Last Page (1952). When Curse rocked the horror world, Fisher was there to direct the 1958 follow-up with Revenge along with adaptations of other books and horror creatures. He returned to the series with Frankenstein Created Woman (1967) and Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed (1969), with the latter being his last film for five years because of a few accidents he had to heal from. He turned 70 prior to the release of the film (which actually was shot in 1972 but delayed), whereupon he retired until his death in 1980. Fisher may not be the seminal name for British horror directors, but he was prolific and efficient enough to endure with a hodgepodge of features that still get airplay every so often in October. The film was written by Anthony Hinds, one of his last features for Hammer; the company was liquidated in 1979, having closed itself out with films such as Captain Kronos – Vampire Hunter (1974), To the Devil a Daughter (1976), and The Lady Vanishes (1979).

I wish I could love the movie, but it sure is bound to its asylum setting and its idea of makeup to its own detriment that is only a notch above The Evil of Frankenstein. Sure, you can say that the film was the last gasp for those who wanted to see something different beyond the creature features, but really it just is a case where some decent movies are just mediocre regardless of the times. It came out in the same year as the other swansong for Hammer involving Cushing with The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires (1974), and it is pretty easy to see that at least one series got to end with some sort of dignity. Apparently, Cushing did his own wig for the film. It does not fit him well in any sense, but one does not get the sense that he has lost any step from the stuff of old when it comes to dogged pursuit of creation. He has essentially become a prisoner of his own ambition, one who can manipulate certain people when he feels like it but is still doing the same song-and-dance of trying to play God that has only seen death (that and damaged hands). Briant obviously is meant to be taken as part of the "new blood" of taking interest in the human body, but he doesn't really have that much to do beyond the general "assistant" role that had been in some of the other previous films. He and Smith are going through familiar motions when it comes to hands and work (take a guess what happens with a mute). And then one gets to the monster and wonders what the hell happened. Simply put, it will remind one of a very, very, very moldy piece of meat, probably because someone had to have been hungry when the designer was told to go for "subhuman". I suppose it is a compliment that every one of these films decided to be imaginative in designing a monster without just re-hashing the old one. Of course, the plight of the monster in its ugly form of beast and man is interesting enough to make the general drama at least on the level for 99 minutes. It may be a cheap movie, but it doesn't creak and groan at itself. I wish the ending was a bit more interesting, since the asylum-bound setting means the fate of the monster isn't too hard to see coming despite the dark amusement that comes from Cushing slowly but surely getting parts to fall into his lap. The direct ending really is a capstone to the series though, going not this time with the possible perishing of Frankenstein but instead with a moment of him looking at what he saw and re-starting the donation process. In general, the movie is bleak but committed in the traditional Hammer sense that can be applauded 50 years later rather than just labeling it as a headstone of Hammer. Cushing and Fisher were a worthwhile pair for such a variety of features together, and this one was an ideal one for them to go out on.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Next up: doubleheaders, derangement, and death all the way around for the days ahead

Je Tu Il Elle.

Review #2190: Je Tu Il Elle.

Cast: 

Chantal Akerman (Julie), Niels Arestrup (the driver), and Claire Wauthion (the woman) Producted and Directed by Chantal Akerman (#1994 - Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles)

Review: 

“When people ask me if I am a feminist film maker, I reply I am a woman and I also make films.”

I admit, this probably should have been covered first when encountering a film directed by Belgian Chantal Akerman. But, well, the curiosity to watch Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (1975) clearly proved too much. But, here we are anyway with Akerman's debut feature film, made after she had done a handful of short films starting as a teenager (as one does when finding little patience to stay in Belgian film school). The title translates to "I You He She"; the film was written by Chantal Akerman, Eric de Kuyper (a writer / semiologist / art critic / experimental film director) and Paul Paquay, with Akerman later stating that she had written it as a story six years prior that was both personal along with not autobiographical (she was 24 when the film came out, although consider the statement made by her that “the subject is not important”). She called her role in the film (her most noted as an actress, having appeared in a handful of shorts and other films over the years) as "part of that mise en scène" for what you see here.

It is an interesting viewing at 86 minutes, if only because it isn't every day that you get a debut feature with the director also serving our main focus. It probably goes without saying that there is more on the surface than just saying what the film is, which namely involves one woman trying to make due with the place she inhabits, whether that involves eating sugar, re-arranging furniture, or meeting up with certain people from a distance. And yes, that can mean actions with one's hands (off screen) or a scene played at a distance involving two women locked in an embrace together. You just have to let the film breathe on its own without trying to peg it as tedious or only for a certain kind of audience without at least trying to get a grasp for why it is there in the first place. There is more to a film than just seeing someone eat a load of sugar in the same way that there is more than one way to see a woman without clothes. Our one lead is a wanderer that goes through an array of experiences in the attempt to escape solitude, even for only a little while. Consider what you see and hear from the two people that encounter Akerman in the film, where one gets to watch the other shave while the other is almost just only there as an object (or maybe it is the other way around). As a whole, it manages to be diverting in the array of space that one experiences with the show of sexuality that comes from reaching out to the world around them, which is involving in ways that make sense to those who take the time to really see the film beyond the obvious. It has a sort of liberation that only one with the experience of being with and without touch can understand, preferably for those prepared for what they could see and with the patience to let things pass.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Trial of Billy Jack.

Review #2148: The Trial of Billy Jack.

Cast: 

Tom Laughlin (Billy Jack), Delores Taylor (Jean Roberts), Victor Izay (Doc), Teresa Kelly (Carol), Sara Lane (Russell), Geo Anne Sosa (Joanne), Lynn Baker (Lynn), Riley Hill (Posner), Sparky Watt (Sheriff Cole), Gus Greymountain (Blue Elk), Sacheen Littlefeather (Patsy Littlejohn), Michael Bolland (Danny), Jack Stanley (Grandfather), Bong-Soo Han (Master Han), Rolling Thunder (Thunder Mountain), and William Wellman Jr (National Guardsman) Directed by Tom Laughlin (#1196 - Billy Jack and #1860 - The Born Losers)

Review: 

"I got too preachy. Got too inflated with my own opinions and my own ideas and put 'em out too heavy." - Tom Laughlin

Okay, you remember The Born Losers (1967). That was the film that Tom Laughlin made with American International Pictures in that attempt to crack into making some of what he wanted to do with the character of his own creation in "Billy Jack", the ex-Green Beret with a bit of Native American heritage that deals with people who don't care for his way of thinking with a few kicks. The self-described "Stanislavsky actor" had spent time running his own Montessori preschool with his wife Delores before the second return to film (remember that he had done a few little-known film appearances and two features). AIP stepped in when Laughlin's slap-dash production made for under $500,000 ran out of money in post, promoted it as one of those biker exploitation films and made a reasonable hit. Of course, when it came time for another film, Billy Jack (1971) was aimed for a true approach by Laughlin at the plight of Natives that he saw mistreated in the 1950s in Winner, South Dakota. Oh, and something about freedom schools and maybe a bit of hapkido and uh, having a scene involving the co-star of the film (played by the wife of the director/star) is raped. No, really. The distribution was taken over by Laughlin in basically a game of hot potato when AIP rejected distributing the film; the result of Laughlin booking it himself in theaters was a rocket hit (Warner Bros. had done their ownattempts, but regardless, Laughlin had his winner), The film and Laughlin's performance had a modern successor with Quentin Tarantino and Brad Pitt, who used it as an influence in the development of the character of Cliff Booth in what became Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (2019). The sequel of Billy Jack, directed by Laughlin with a script by Laughlin and Taylor (who for whatever reason used pseudonyms) would have its own brand of wall-to-wall nationwide pushing to its own type of notability, because there just weren't that many movies that could say they were in 1,000 screens at the same time. Prior films with a certain type of push in "wide release" was stuff like Duel in the Sun (1946), which apparently did a "blitz" of releasing simultaneously in a number of theaters in an area, while The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953) opened in over 1,000 theaters within the first week of release. Anyway, Laughlin would have two more films in his directing arsenal: The Master Gunfighter (1975), which he also starred and produced with the belief that his nationwide strategy would work well again...it failed. Oh, and Billy Jack Goes to Washington (1977), a film that couldn't even get a proper theatrical release even when Laughlin cut forty (!) minutes it to make run under three hours. Filming was done around Arizona and Utah, whether that involved Coronado National Forest or Monument Valley. It was reported after the release of the film that Laughlin, miffed by hearing critical reviews of his film, started a critics cash prize contest that invited the public to tell the critics how they really felt when it comes to being "out of touch". I especially like the part where he highlights some of the highest grossing films made to that point (read: 1974) and implicates that the critic somehow hated those big box office hits such as Gone with the Wind and The Sting. Truly, we are dealing with an actor/director/writer who is really not mad, no, really, he's not mad at the paper saying his film may be a tad, well...

Oh hell, let's get this out of the way quick: this is a steaming piece of bleeding-heart crap. My views don't matter that much when it comes for film a good chunk of the time, but even a guy like me rolls eyes at stuff like this. If you thought the last film was a meandering mess that refused to simply play ball with the hapkido first and stop playing the card of trying to being socially relevant with characters as likable as a rake in the head, wait until you get to this one. If you want a test of how long 173 minutes can feel, here is your chance with a movie that meanders so much in its elements of the Freedom School that you swear time will have stopped. I actually wonder if the biggest influence on Neil Breen and his meandering qualities of filmmaking and self-savior character (complete with being in his forties when doing them) movies is really Laughlin. That martyr stuff worked with the earlier film, but it comes to the most crashing of stops with a movie that continues all of the contradictions from before but with even less to offer here. Born Losers may have been a bit unpolished, but at least it felt like a film attempting to do entertainment. This is a movie that tries to go spread eagle in social news bulletins that go from mentioning the Kent State shootings to the My Lai massacre while being presented mostly in flashback form (because hey, being told the death and injury count on a massacre that has yet to be shown is part of The Laughlin Way, right next to having characters speak in platitudes). Taylor is left to hold the parts of the film that can't be bothered by Laughlin, who at one point is shown in full body color paint...of red, and also one time is spent in blue. The less said about Hill being the little covered villain (kick throat is kinda cool though), the better. Taylor's withering monotone voice of "reason" (I use quotes because it is debatable that reason exists in this film) is as weird as it was before when it comes to middling interest. Laughlin talks the same platitudes as before, and I would like to point out that he really thought of this character as a hero for the youth alongside Ralph Nader despite the fact that Billy Jack just meanders around with the same dilemma again and again about violence. The damn hapkido parts are the drawing force when it really boils down to what made those last two films even remotely tolerable as "average, not good", not the Jungian pop psychology. He may believe the stuff he is spewing (as quoted by him when it came to saying in interviews that no, no, no, the public really did go for the pacifism and not the kicking), but that is not a point in his favor when I find it tedious. The villains in the movie are no more complex than what you would find in a Saturday morning cartoon, but because the film wants to be taken so seriously, it comes off as hilarious to be subjected to such tedious slop. Even seeing the students get into the idea of fighting brute savagery with, uh, bombing, is more interesting than vision quests or kids that eventually bring themselves to play guitar.

You know that old stereotype of hippies being, well, annoying? This is basically red meat for jokes in that regard. You can say the film has a worthy look to it when it comes to production value, but all I see is a waste of space. Being the drunk uncle of Gas-s-s-s (1970) is not a compliment, especially when you find that there were *five* editors credited for this film. I can't even fathom the time it took to edit those sequences of vision quests. I think there is a sort of amusing irony that a film that features a white guy playing a character with mixed Native heritage happens to have appearances by Sacheen Littlefeather and Rolling Thunder, two people with dubious claims of Native American ancestry (Littlefeather is so much a fraud that it was her sisters that said how much of a fraud she was). The movie actually has the balls to show an ending title card of notes addressing the idea the film may be "too violent" and to, uh, "give peace a chance...". In the end, this is a sermon that preaches to the choir for all of the cliches in the world that won't win any new curious viewers, particularly for those without the stomach for movie-made massacre of children. This is a film that fails the basic rule of clarity and "action" and only stands as a testament to what one could do in the 1970s when it came to vision and distribution. The 2020s has its own methods of getting films to somewhere in time, but nothing may be as deluded as this film when it comes to tenacity, for better or worse. It seems perfect for the turkey celebrations: it has Native Americans (real and the dubious), a long boring lesson from white folks, and it feels like it takes all day to end.

Overall, I give it 3 out of 10 stars.

Next: After a fresh offering of Thanksgiving slop, enjoy your Black Friday with Baby Geniuses.

The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires.

Review #1742: The Legend of 7 Golden Vampires. 

Cast: 

Peter Cushing (Professor Van Helsing), David Chiang (Hsi Ching/Hsi Tien-en), Julie Ege (Vanessa Buren), Robin Stewart (Leyland Van Helsing), John Forbes-Robertson (Count Dracula; dubbing by David de Keyser), Robert Hanna (British Consul), Shih Szu (Mai Kwei), Chan Shen (Kah the High Priest/Count Dracula's host), Lau Kar-wing (Hsi Kwei), Huang Pei-Chih (Hsi Po-Kwei), and Wang Chiang (Hsi San) Directed by Roy Ward Baker and Chang Cheh.

Review: 

This might read like a tombstone for Hammer Film Productions, but this is probably the most fitting film to etch a mark of the end of the road, because by the time of the 1970s, the company became a victim of their own success. As one might have noticed, the quality of the movies dipped a bit in the era, but the key statement that can be stated about their time is that they were at their best when they could entertain their audiences without having to tread all the familiar grounds of repetition. Oh sure, they had been a company since 1934, but it was only in the mid 1950s that they truly became a name of curiosity in horror with their color filmmaking and content, which involved using characters such as Count Dracula, Frankenstein, and various others, with The Quatermass Xperiment (1955) being the first key step. Of course, putting in more and more gore/violence/sexual content can only go so far, particularly when American markets started to see restrictions become more loose by the time of the 1960s. The attempts at refining the familiar with the times resulted in a variety of films in varying quality, but the studio would go into liquidation by the end of the 1970s (sure, the name is still around...); I'm sure you are aware then of how the Dracula series would go into self-parody with the films done in that era. Hell, in 1970, they released two Dracula films with Taste the Blood of Dracula and Scars of Dracula (the latter essentially serving as a revitalization of the series). Two years later, they thought they could set a Dracula film in the current day (while revising the timeline yet again in a series where continuity is glops of putty) with Dracula A.D. 1972, which resulted in more chuckles. No points for guessing where The Satanic Rites of Dracula (1973) went with "Dracula wants to destroy humanity with a plague". But hey, Hammer tried one more time, and they sure did go out with a film worthy of batting an eye. At the helm was a co-production involving Hammer and Shaw Brothers Studio (who until their reorganization in 2011 was one of the biggest studios in Hong Kong). Don Houghton (writer of the last two Dracula films) served as the screenwriter along with producing the film with Vee King Shaw, since his father-in-law had connections to the Shaws. Of course, familiar readers (or viewers of dreck) will recognize that the Shaws would continue to dabble with collaborating abroad that resulted in films like Meteor (1979). So yes, at least the folks at Hammer and Shaw did not bring complete rookies for the task of a British-Hong Kong production, since one would hope for no rubes at command. Baker had experience with the Hammer folks, having directed five features for them previously, with one of them being Scars of Dracula (1970) (another vampire movie he did was The Vampire Lovers, released the same year as the first of what was called "The Karnstein Trilogy"). He had a forty year career of directing films in numerous genres, with the most famous being A Night to Remember (1958). Of course, the Shaws were not quite happy with Baker, so they brought in a new director to help with the action. Perhaps it made sense that Baker would be joined by Chang Cheh in direction (albeit un-credited on screen); while this may not be the best introduction to him, he was described in his time as "The Godfather of Hong Kong Cinema", inspiring future directors like John Woo and Quentin Tarantino with films such as One-Armed Swordsman (1967), the first hit of a handful in a prolific career of wuxia movies. The two studios collaborated on one other film together in Hong Kong: Shatter (1975), which also starred Cushing.

When it came time for an American release, it was called "The 7 Brothers Meet Dracula" and featured looped dialogue (cutting whole scenes out and moving the prologue around) and scenes that changed an 85 minute movie into a 79 minute one (of course, I am watching the non-edited movie) - thankfully one can watch the version as intended. At any rate, this is the ninth and final film from Hammer in their Dracula series, and it is one of only two to not feature Christopher Lee (the other was The Brides of Dracula (1960), which had Cushing for the second of five appearances as Van Helsing). After a series of scripts that had seen him go from being guilt-tripped into doing movies because of the threat of folks losing their jobs to seeing the series go into self-parody with confusion, it is fitting that Lee did get to see the end of the series with a script that has even less for the character to do than usual. No, really: he shows up for less than five minutes in the whole movie, and the man playing Dracula is even dubbed (remember, in this film he assumes the form of a desperate priest who has seven "golden" vampires at his side after escaping Transylvania, which was like prison because...?). If you are wondering just what is different about "Golden vampires", well, they wear silly masks while tying women to platforms to drain blood into a pot as they galivant with swords and medallions (also, the battle is actually against six vampires, since one is killed in a dialogue-less scene right near the beginning). So what is the result of an international hodgepodge of The Magnificent Seven with kung fu and vampires? Well, it makes for a very curious failure, but a failure is still a failure, no matter how much kung fu, vampires, violence, and an assortment of flesh there is. Cushing at least gives it the old college try with dignity in the face of narrative gobbledygook, and at least it can be said that he does what is needed in usual decency (granted, not enough to save the movie, but still). Stewart does not fare as well, mostly seeming bored out of element, whether when trying to flail in romance or flail as the non-kung fu presence in the film (well, Ege is there too, but she just has to play to the glamour part in these films). Chiang does fine with the kung fu elements for a film that really tries to coast on folks going from place to place to fight, which means he makes a casual follow without much support (the siblings are there just to attack folks). Dracula is really not much of a focus here when there's the trouble of an obvious dub, and while Keyser is a fair voice, the makeup put on Forbes-Robertson in those brief moments is hysterical, and the fact that the last fight in the movie between the lead and the adversary ends in less than two minutes makes this laughably insulting. Honestly, the fights and the gore probably are the only things worth getting into, since the pace of the film plods along with no real amount of stakes to go around; the vampires don't pose much of a threat beyond chuckles, and the main folks seem better suited for a real kung fu movie than this. As a whole, folks who want to see where the seams finally ripped off for Hammer or folks who dig camp are the ones who will care enough to possibly seek it out, and I guess that is better than nothing. For horror, it isn't a true winner, but it could win out for the schlock at heart.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Prom Night (1980)

Airport 1975.

Review #1675: Airport 1975.

Cast: 

Charlton Heston (Captain Alan Murdock), Karen Black (Chief-Stewardess Nancy Pryor), George Kennedy (Joe Patroni), Efrem Zimbalist Jr. (Captain Stacy), Gloria Swanson (Herself), Susan Clark (Helen Patroni), Helen Reddy (Sister Ruth), Linda Blair (Janice Abbott), Dana Andrews (Scott Freeman), Myrna Loy (Mrs. Devaney), Sid Caesar (Barney), Roy Thinnes (First Officer Urias), Ed Nelson (Maj. Alexander), Nancy Olson (Mrs. Abbott), Larry Storch (Glenn Purcell), Martha Scott (Sister Beatrice), Norman Fell (Bill), Jerry Stiller (Sam), and Conrad Janis (Arnie) Directed by Jack Smight.

Review: 

There are quite a few times that you see a sequel to a movie and wonder why there was a second one to begin with. Unfortunately, you know, and I know, the reason that there exists a sequel like Airport 1975 (1974): money. People really couldn't get enough of big stars to go with airplanes in trouble, complete with a title that I suppose was made to sound like it came from the future. It appears that the budget was reduced in the four years since the last film in 1970 (from ten to three million), but this one also managed to make over $100 million, and one can only wonder how rentals would go for this fellow turkey. To be fair, one probably can't blame Jack Smight for his direction here. He did his work in both television and film (starting with the former since its golden age in the 1950s), and this was the eleventh of seventeen films that he would direct from 1964 to 1989, with Harper (1966) generally being the one that stands out among his work. I'm sure you might remember Airplane! (1980) when it comes to its take on the disaster genre...and those little gags that might seem familiar to those who have seen both films, what with a kid that is awaiting a transplant as soon as they make an airplane trip (complete with a doctor calling beforehand to make sure they aren't startled), and a singing nun that plays to the kid. Now, technically Reddy was qualified to sing, because she was actually a singer (with one newspaper outlet describing her as the "Queen of '70s Pop", after all)...so keep that in mind in trying to figure out which one is a parody. That 1980 film also had Ethel Merman in a cameo appearance, while this feature has Gloria Swanson playing herself (if you really want to stretch this around into an oblong circle, Linda Harrison accompanies her...while using a second name as "Augusta Summerland"...yes). I am not playing you for a bit, because Airport 1975 actually features Dana Andrews in a brief appearance, and Andrews had starred in Zero Hour! (1957), which Arthur Hailey had adapted from his teleplay a few years prior while eventually writing the novel Airport...and Airplane! would lift lines from said movie. At least one will get to see the pair of Heston and Kennedy again, because they had co-starred in another disaster film with Earthquake (1974), which was also done by Universal Studios.

So yes, there are a few strange folks present here, whether that means a trio of odd drunks overshadowed by Myrna Loy playing a more eccentric drunk...or Swanson, who had apparently wrote all of her lines. Strangely enough, this may actually be better than the original film, mostly because of one thing: it manages to be so cheesy that it nearly defies reason. It is so self-serious at the weirdest times that one wonders how exactly this was the only film credit for screenplay man Don Ingalls, who specialized in television from Have Gun - Will Travel to Fantasy Island. It sometimes feel like a script that mutated from the bins of television hokum and engulfed any famous person they could find, who I hope managed to enjoy the monetary benefits of this sham spectacle. Heston is technically the star, in that he gets to ham the screen up from moment to moment while doing the bare minimum in charisma and minimal plane involvement. One wonders if he was worn out from the aforementioned film about the earthquake. Kennedy blusters through some shouting in a performance that is probably degraded from what one saw in the first film, although it can be said that in the earlier movie he was more of a helpful highlight (since if you remember, the airplane trouble was somewhere sidelined behind lots of gobbledygook about affairs and the airplane industry). Ah, but the real presence is Black, making her shift into commercial work after a string of noted supporting roles. While it isn't a great performance by any means, I'm sure I wouldn't fare much better at fumbling with the controls and not collapsing into panic with trying to fly a plane over mountains (the attempts at chemistry with Heston is a different story), although older fans might recognize that this isn't the first movie where a flight attendant is shown taking a plane to safety (Julie (1956) starred Doris Day in a noir, of all things). Zimbalist plays the unfortunate pilot that gets to spend half his time on a couch with his eyes closed to makeup, so there is that. Swanson, making her final film appearance before her death in 1983, certainly had to have a fine time here, since I imagine a role spent mostly in a chair talking about oneself would make anyone proud. It isn't exactly a parody of herself, but one can still keep their eyes open to wonder how this "interesting" pairing of famed star to alleged disaster movie came to be. Others have the energy of a broomstick when it comes to really sticking out, most notably with a bored-looking Andrews, or a bedridden Blair, or an oddly complacent Caesar to go with Storch (who might as well have been chosen out of a hat), and it is Loy who really seems to stand out best when it comes to pairing eccentricity to the level of cheese needed. At least there is some sort of inherent danger present here, since the chances of even one important character biting the dust is at 1% rather than the level done from the first film, although it hasn't meant the movie has increased its levels of thrill from before. One wonders exactly how the other two Airport movies turn out in raising (or keeping) the standards of disaster movie excitement, really. Airport 1975 (1974) isn't really an accomplishment in anything, but technically being better than its predecessor in being less boring has to account for something. If one desires a movie packed with ridicule and name actors, one might not go wrong here.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Abby.

Review #1636: Abby. 

Cast: 

William Marshall (Bishop Garnet Williams), Terry Carter (Rev. Emmett Williams), Austin Stoker (Det. Cass Potter), Carol Speed (Abby Williams), Juanita Moore (Miranda 'Momma' Potter), Charles Kissinger (Dr. Hennings), Elliott Moffitt (Russell Lang), Nathan Cook (Tafa Hassan), Nancy Lee Owens (Mrs. Wiggins), and William P. Bradford (Dr. Rogers) Directed by William Girdler.

Review: 

"Sure, we made 'Abby' to come in on the shirttail of 'The Exorcist."

There are plenty of hands responsible for such an interesting piece of horror curiosity that fits its era like no other. The first step is to cite the director in William Girdler. The Kentucky native made nine films before his tragic death in 1978, with the films specializing in horror and action. Girdler's films were never considered great pieces of entertainment, but they certainly had a place, whether involving killer nature like Grizzly (1976) or blaxploitation action like Sheba, Baby (1975). However, it was this film that helped bring him into attention, for good and bad reasons. Of course, one needs a good cast to drive a horror film, so why not have an actor familiar with scares - enter William Marshall. The Indiana native went to New York University initially for art, but he found himself interested into theater, and his study at the Actors Studio among other playhouses led to a debut on Broadway in 1944. He would receive notice for his work in theater work such as The Green Pastures and Shakespearean performances such as Othello. His first film role was Lydia Bailey (1952), and blacklisting could not keep him down from keeping busy with television as well to accompany his voice and stature. One of his most notable roles came within horror: the title role in Blacula (1972), for which he would reprise for the sequel a year later. Relating in all of this is American International Pictures, who distributed both Blacula and this film. Marshall reportedly was disappointed by the script's lessened focus on the spiritual aspects of the West Africa Yourbas (which he had suggested in the first place), with Girdler and Gordon Cornell Layne co-writing the film together.

So, coming on the heels of films inspired by horror movies like Blacula and Blackenstein, Abby proved to be quite a hit on release, making back its reported $100,000 budget with at least $4 million in box office sales, while Girdler would continue on to do numerous films in the decade that involved blaxploitation and/or horror. Of course, that is not all of the story. Abby quickly met an end to its theatrical release days when American International Pictures was sued by Warner Brothers because the studio believed that they had infringed on their film in terms of plot, which happened to be The Exorcist. Believe it or not, this was not the only time that Warner Brothers had targeted a film believed to have infringed on their film, since Beyond the Door (1974) was also targeted for its supposed similarities. The lawsuit drove AIP to take the film out of distribution (as AIP and WB apparently made a deal involving unfreezing revenue) and it would take until 2006 for there to be a release on home media, and the version I saw was one with plenty of grime to see in all of its 16mm glory (in other words, on certain Internet channels). Honestly, the lawsuit is absurd, because viewing Abby would reveal the obvious differences between the two. The Exorcist was a solemn, chilling film that took its time to develop terror with a child possessed (of course, I've only seen it once) in a house. 

Abby is a funky film that sets itself up with clunky exposition involving a fertility spirit, a mix of soul music to go alongside occasional subliminal shots of its demon that takes hold of a woman and leaves her craving folks across the town to terrorize in various ways, which climaxes with a fight in a bar. Without Marshall and a semi-interesting mish-mashed performance from Speed and voice artist Bob Holt, the film would collapse in on itself as a hilarious joke, honestly. There are quite a few scenes of clunky exposition, this much is for sure. From the opening involving students talking about the talents of our archeologist/priest right down to talk about just how Abby is so sweet (marriage counsellor, youth leader, AND working with the junior choir). But don't worry, you won't have to wait long for antics with a demon, whether involving trouble with a distracting knife or singing to a crowd of indifferent congregation members (okay, actually Speed did the song herself, but the editing doesn't help) to coughing/attacking fits that leave a few people gasping for air...and some of that is out of laughter, particularly with a chase sequence that starts with one carjacking that leads to another (from a reverend!). A climax involving a colorful triangle and foaming at the mouth with an exploding bar makes this seem like a film with confused inhibitions about exactly what it is: it certainly is more interesting when trying to focus on either spirituality within a game Marshall or the conflict between Carter and Speed, but its attempts at scares are no better than dressing up in a Halloween mask and going "BOO!" at them, and calling it an imitator of The Exorcist is generous at best. It might have been a move to try and bully a less prominent studio (or a ploy by AIP to get money), but I would at least say this is a film worth a curious glance, if only because it is interesting to see Marshall in a lead role alongside a moderate effort from others like Girdler in sweet deliverable trash horror cinema.

Next Time: Drop in for a laugh with Michael Schultz and a diverse group of characters in Car Wash (1976).

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

The Towering Inferno.

Review #1447: The Towering Inferno.

Cast: 
Paul Newman (Doug Roberts), Steve McQueen (Michael O'Hallorhan), William Holden (James Duncan), Faye Dunaway (Susan Franklin), Fred Astaire (Harlee Claiborne), Susan Blakely (Patty Duncan Simmons), Richard Chamberlain (Roger Simmons), Jennifer Jones (Lisolette Mueller), O. J. Simpson (Harry Jernigan), Robert Vaughn (U.S. Senator Gary Parker), Robert Wagner (Dan Bigelow), Susan Flannery (Lorrie), Sheila Matthews Allen (Paula Ramsay), Norman Burton (Will Giddings), Jack Collins (Mayor Robert "Bob" Ramsay), Don Gordon (Kappy), Felton Perry (Scott), and Gregory Sierra (Carlos) Directed by John Guillermin (#726 - King Kong (1976) and #1231 - Shaft in Africa)

Review: 
"You know, there's really nothing like an exciting film on a big screen. Hopefully, I've made a few in my career."

Here's an idea: How about a film based on not one, but two books? No wait, here's one better, how about one released by two major studios? This film, adapted from The Tower by Richard Martin Stern and The Glass Inferno by Thomas N. Scortia and Frank M. Robinson, was released in the United States by 20th Century Fox and worldwide by Warner Brothers, as Irwin Allen (who would direct the action sequences) convinced them to make one film together rather than just adapting the novels separately for film. There were numerous disaster films of this era, but The Towering Inferno likely topped them all, despite attempts for others to try to raise the heights, considering 1974's output in this film, Earthquake, and Airport 1975 (the sequel to the original film with familiar disaster star Charlton Heston). Simply put, if something existed that had people nearby, by George would there be a disaster waiting to happen, whether that involved rollercoasters (with Sensurround!), football games (sniper or blimp, take your pick), or meteors. The one fitting to helm a big budget action adventure would be John Guillermin, noted for his intense perfectionist attitudes for his film that crept to his stars and producers for a varied career of distinct hits at times in a career that spanned over three decades.

This is an interesting duo for a film, since both Newman and McQueen apparently have the same amount of lines despite the latter not appearing until forty minutes into a 165 minute film (he actually was meant to star as the architect but lobbied for the architect role and got it). One thing this film certainly has enough of is ludicrous spectacle, a film that builds and builds and builds until it nearly becomes too much about a massive fire that engulfs its audience and stars to make for fair entertainment in parts with enough effects and silliness for a lifetime. It is arguable to say which Allen epic is better with The Poseidon Adventure or this, but it can't be denied that they have had their own types of lasting appeal, with both making plenty of money and receiving accolades (mostly technical awards along with title songs, oddly enough) that make them interesting pieces for their era. Newman (who apparently described the film later as a "turkey" before appearing in another Allen film years later in When Time Ran Out) is quite casual here, rolling with the occasional line about safety and exposition without trouble. McQueen (who appeared in three more films before his death after taking a four-year hiatus following this film) is calm and collected in leading the fire aspects that keeps your attention in a balance that favors the two stars without engulfing them in a scenery-chewing contest. Holden, who described his part as one that spends all the time talking on the phone (while clearly liking the money more than the script), does just fine with a role that doesn't really require too much besides just interacting with the occasional figure in a room - as long as he doesn't seem to be lost in the fun, it works out. Dunaway definitely gets close to being lost in all of this, since she only interacts with Newman for a few scenes before being mostly in the background. There are little highlights within the rest of the cast, such as the kindly professional Astaire paired with the equally kind Jones (in her last role), or a snidely Chamberlain, or even sprinkles of football star-turned-actor Simpson and his rescue of a cat (who then only reappears at the end to give the cat away to a survivor, naturally). One is here to see who will come out of alive, and while there may not be as much of a seeable count of vanquished stars, it still makes for a thrilling film at times, if only because of the thought of a building on fire from below does seem pretty scary. There are plenty of spectacle moments such as the stairwell rescue, the outsider elevator debacle and rescue, the daring attempts to rescue people (and cats) from fires, and a two million gallon water climax. For those who seek out something brimming with spectacle and stars that overflow the pot with mostly satisfaction, you can't quite go wrong with this film - a worthy disaster film highlight for its era.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.