Catch Us If You Can.

Review #2403: Catch Us If You Can.

Cast: 

Dave Clark (Steve), Barbara Ferris (Dinah), David Lodge (Louis), Robin Bailey (Guy), Yootha Joyce (Nan), David de Keyser (Zissell), Clive Swift (Duffle), Ronald Lacey (Yeano), Hugh Walters (Grey), Michael Gwynn (Hardingford), with Lenny Davidson (Lenny), Rick Huxley (Rick), Mike Smith (Mike, and Denis Payton (Denis) Directed by John Boorman (#565 - Zardoz, #975 - Deliverance, #1210 - Excalibur, #1915 - Exorcist II: The Heretic, #2224 - Point Blank)

Review: 

The 1960s had plenty of room for rock and roll bands to get their shot, so of course here is a movie coming off the heels of the "British Invasion". The Dave Clark Five actually started as a backing musician group in 1958 before becoming their own real band in 1962 in London that had each member play varying instruments (Clark for example, played drums while also being the manager and song co-writer while the vocals were done by Mike Smith). The band had a handful of songs that made the charts, most notably with "Glad All Over", and they were the second group to go on the Ed Sullivan Show after the Beatles had done so in early 1964 (apparently, one band manager of the time argued that the early success of the Clark Five was actually a rival to the Beatles). The band disbanded in 1970, but Clark kept on with another self-titled band for a few more years. Apparently, the impetus for the movie that became known as "Catch Us If You Can" in some markets and "Having a Wild Weekend" in places such as America was because Nat Cohen had missed out on producing A Hard Day's Night. He found a producer with David Deutsch to helm the movie. The movie was written by playwright Peter Nichols, who apparently did it in need of money. The result of a script that Nichols labeled a "pretentious odyssey about middle-aged entrepreneurs exploiting young talent, crammed with irony, philosophic overtones and three-syllable words" was filmed with apparently few of his words actually filmed, probably because of having to work with actors that weren't particularly experienced. The director would be John Boorman, a clerical instructor in the British Army-turned-journalist-turned-newsroom man-turned-documentary filmmaker. Catch Us If You Can wasn't a major success, but Boorman followed it up with 1967's Point Blank (as co-written by Alexander Jacobs, who was an assistant to Deutsch on the aforementioned Catch movie) and 1968's Hell in the Pacific.

I do wish I liked the movie, but for whatever reason, my memory of the film started to diminish in what I actually liked about it the more it stuck around in my brain. Being sandwiched between band-related ventures such as A Hard Day's Night [1964] and Head [1968] (speaking of movies featuring groups with curious observations about people that are far better than Catch Us If You Can) probably does not help matters. It isn't so much that the movie isn't a subdued mess, it just so happens the movie is a puddle of ideas that only come across in vague terms that aren't helped with the lack of one commanding performance. You have Clark and Ferris going around in episodic adventures encountering varying levels of weird people (read: British) that is sometimes curious but not nearly as interesting as it believes itself to be. Ferris had a handful of roles in her career, mostly in the 1960s, and she does relatively fine in hurried timing, as one does when the camera (read: Boorman focusing on the actor) likes to focus on her worries in the prism of youth. It might be taken as being a commentary of fame and the culture of the time that mostly involves a bunch of weird people, I suppose. It just doesn't feel incisive enough to really make any interesting observations beneath the obvious that is pretty hollow (oh don't go with "but that's the point", even movies that like to talk about hollow people at least have venom) and it barely feels enthusiastic enough to make one inquire further of the Clark Five (get it, they play stuntmen in the film rather than musicians). It just comes and goes with the vibes of someone trying to make the best of muddy thoughts that is too elusive to actually hold on to. At least it looks nice and has a few "heh" gags, at least, mostly in strange timing and the ending is at least elusive enough to invite curiosity, but it just never feels like a complete experience. As a whole, it might be more of a curiosity for the road later travelled with Boorman than as some sort of great experience, which is both a blessing and curse for those who like to check out movies now celebrating sixty years.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Never Let Go.

Review #2044: Never Let Go.

Cast: 

Richard Todd (John Cummings), Peter Sellers (Lionel Meadows), Elizabeth Sellars (Anne Cummings), Adam Faith (Tommy Towers), Carol White (Jackie), Mervyn Johns (Alfie Barnes), Noel Willman (Inspector Thomas), David Lodge (Cliff), and Peter Jones (Alec Berger) Directed by John Guillermin (#726 - King Kong (1976), #1231 - Shaft in Africa, #1447 - The Towering Inferno)

Review: 

The temperamental director may be a tough one to rein in, but when they excel in multiple genres or continue to get dependable work, they deserve everything they do. What does one expect from a man called many things from having an "irascible streak" to being a "pain in the ass"? John Guillermin was born to French parents in London. The dawn of World War II saw him join the Royal Air Force before his childhood interest in film got him into documentary filmmaking (with a few bits for a perfume company) and eventually features before he turned 30. He did his time with modest budgeting for Robert Jordan Hill, Vandyke Productions, television productions, and so on; the films that gave him first notice beyond the usual small expectations were Town on Trial (1957) and I Was Monty's Double (1958). He was then hired to do Tarzan's Greatest Adventure (1959), which was also pretty successful. The basis for the film came from a real event that I would hope doesn't happen to you: a man finds his car was stolen. Guillermin had his car stolen and told Peter de Serigny about it, with the latter happening to be a producer. They had a discussion about what if one had their whole livelihood dependent on their car. They made a brief story outline and then approached Alun Falconer to do a full script, with the result being the film here. This was the second of two films released in 1960 with Guillermin as director, after The Day They Robbed the Bank of England (1960).

Admittedly, it is a tantalizing kind of "kitchen-sink noir", one that shows just how far a man can go if they are pushed to the brink of what they deem to be unfair. You know, I actually did suffer a robbery once. It was October 20, 2022, when I foolishly went a path I probably should have thought twice about going in broad daylight. I may have been robbed of some money, but I'll be damned if they were going to steal my cell phone. The point I want to make (aside from not merely asking them to go to hell) is that some things are easy to take for granted until you have to fight for them to stay in the right place. Far from being just a movie about wanting their car back, it also is a movie about wanting to assert themselves as a man once again. For a time, Todd was a name actor with reputation in studio features (such as Disney and 20th Century Fox) after The Hasty Heart (1949) had him in demand. It is clear to see why, because he proves palatable in the panic shown without turning into a whimpering caricature. His refusal to give in becomes our refusal, one that we firmly believe in despite one's thoughts for how sad it all seems when shown up close with Sellars, who can only watch in blistering shock. If you can believe it, Sellers was actually approached to play the lead but asked if he could play the villain instead. Already a presence in various comedies (such as The Goon Show), this would stand out as a distinct dramatic role in his career that had seen him play a few roles making light of authority figures. He excels pretty well here, one who manages to achieve the conniving task of arrogance without being just a bland heavy, one who is more than a guy who at one point smashes a turtle. He never breaks once in his tension as a gritty portrayal of ruthlessness, which works right to where the film must lead to in the final climax (evidently, he was unable to stop from letting the performance not seep into his homelife, which resulted in a tense recollection from his wife). Faith was a pop singer teen idol who tried to make something within acting while only just in his twenties, and he makes a decent showing in the tension of youth and rough reality (as one expects from him and White). I do love the final sequence right after the fight, where a bruised and battered man in triumph drives off with his badly desired car, one who could care less about procedure or anything when being off to rest at his home, one who sits in the dark and finds a surprise awaiting him. With an efficient runtime of 90 minutes and a somewhat interesting music score from John Barry, this results in a pretty neat effort for all involved, one that is wrapped in sincerity in the heart of stubborn nature above all else that rewards the viewer in solid performances that really does not let go of your attention.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

A Shot in the Dark.

Review #899: A Shot in the Dark.

Cast:
Peter Sellers (Jacques Clouseau), Elke Sommer (Maria Gambrelli), George Sanders (Benjamin Ballon), Herbert Lom (Charles Dreyfus), Tracy Reed (Dominique Ballon), Graham Stark (Hercule Lajoy), Moira Redmond (Simone), Vanda Godsell (Madame LaFarge), Maurice Kaufmann (Pierre), Ann Lynn (Dudu), David Lodge (Georges), André Maranne (François), Martin Benson (Maurice), and Burt Kwouk (Kato) Directed by Blake Edwards (#329 - The Pink Panther and #481 - The Party)

Review:
One thing that definitely can be said about this is that it certainly continues the laughs from The Pink Panther (released less with Sellers in control this time around as the main lead, with a more peculiar accent that became the hallmark of the character. With a great deal of slapstick and gags that combine with an engaging cast willing to have fun, A Shot in the Dark is also a fine sequel, while introducing newcomers that would become mainstays in the franchise, such as Lom as the long-suffering Dreyfus and Kwouk as Cato, the skilled servant used to "help" Clouseau in keeping his skills. Both are prime in their roles, with the latter getting especially more compelling the more the film goes on. It's also a pretty decent mystery as well, where the facts and allure balance handily with a movie that never veers too seriously but also never veers too ridiculously off-point, where every scene has something worth watching. Sellers and Sommer have a fair balance of chemistry together, right from their opening scene, where Clouseau catches on fire. Sellers seems at ease doing this role, with the right sense of bumbling incompetence that never ceases to entertain nor overstay its welcome, even when it repeats a gag or two a few times. I'd say some of the situations, but that just spoils the fun of what is a good romp. The movie gets wild, but it never goes completely off the rails, always having a sense of responsibility, with a fairly concocted climax as well.  At 102 minutes, A Shot in the Dark is also pretty well paced, having the right amount of gags and characters to make for a fun movie for anyone.

Countdown to #900: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Tomorrow night: Number Nine Hundred.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.