Macabre (1958).

Review #2261: Macabre.

Cast: 

William Prince (Rodney Barrett), Jim Backus (Police Chief Jim Tyloe), Christine White (Nancy Wetherby Tyloe), Jacqueline Scott (Polly Baron), Susan Morrow (Sylvia Stevenson), Jonathan Kidd (Ed Quigley), Philip Tonge (Jode Wetherby), Dorothy Morris (Alice Barrett), Howard Hoffman (Hummel), and Ellen Corby (Miss Kushins) Directed and Produced by William Castle (#369 - House on Haunted Hill (1959), #1071 - 13 Ghosts, #1418 - The Night Walker, #1703 - Undertow)

Review: 

Admittedly, the gimmick used for the film is probably more interesting than the final result. If one remembers correctly, William Castle had a serviceable career in the eyes of B-movies and quickly made stuff. But he had a yearning for more, and it was the success of the 1955 French film Les Diaboliques (which had aa message at the end telling people not to spoil the ending they just saw to others that hadn't seen it yet) that inspired him to make his own shockers for the masses...complete with a campaign. Of course, Castle wasn't particularly new to doing campaigns. One time, in his days of theatre work, having gotten the chance to lease one out, he had to come up with a German play for his German-born actress to act in (ask yourself why that would be a rule for a theater guild in the 1930s), so he did that over a weekend. Then, he turned a telegram inviting his actress abroad into a chance to call his star "the girl who said no to Hitler"...and then secretly vandalized the theatre with swastikas. Anyway, Castle bought the rights to an obscure-ish novel in The Marble Forest (as written by a few writers of the "Mystery Writers of America", who used the psuedonym Theo Durran). He had Robb White (a partner in the production company with Castle) write a screenplay around it; Castle would utilize White (an adventure novelist and occasional film/TV writer) for four further features. Macabre was the first of what became seventeen films from 1958 to 1974 that had their tinges of horror to go with the occasional gimmick to promote it. An audience member was given a "$1,000 life insurance policy from Lloyd's of London" in case they died of fright from the film; Castle mortaged his house to do the film. Incidentally, a few months after the release of this film, The Screaming Skull (as distributed by American International) had an opening prologue that said the film was so frightening that it might kill its viewer (unlike Castle though, they didn't actually contact an insurance company or hire nurses for the premiere).  

For all the nice things in general one can say about Castle as a filmmaker and in general when it comes to cheap little horror movies, this just isn't that good of an experience. It is a very average and very drawn-out movie for 72 minutes that honestly begs to be twenty minutes longer somehow. There actually are a few flashbacks in the film that try to string us along when it comes to the mystery of just why someone might want to mess with a guy by burying their daughter alive. The sordid stuff that comes (flings with women, people lurking around graveyards, phone calls of terror) is basically the stuff you might see in a crime drama or a soap opera, but the movie just isn't as compelling as one would wish it could be. One could've called it anything other than Macabre, because even though the definition involves "gruesome" things, it just ends up making one believe that the end result fits under "generic". Prince has a bit of punch when it comes to the unraveling of what one really is beyond first impressions, with that panic for the initial pursuit at least being handled with Scott for something worthwhile...for a time. The twist is just straight out of the soap playbook that basically throw the book back at the viewer, but with a lack of cast to begin with, the mystery of what lies beneath the box isn't exactly a hard one to stab a guess on. Backus sounds like he should have more to chew on beyond mild aggression that barely registers even after the story "turns" to flashback. One can see that slow step from making B-flair in say, noir trappings (but with a funny gimmick) to the eventual turn in curious horror (B-flair or not, you be the judge). In general, it is a perfectly mediocre movie, being more known for a gimmick than being good, but if you are curious for what lies beneath the works of William Castle in what he is best known for, go and lurk for oneself.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Duel.

Review #2000: Duel.

Cast: 

Dennis Weaver (David Mann), with Jacqueline Scott (Mrs. Mann), Carey Loftin (Truck Driver), Eddie Firestone (Café Owner), Lou Frizzell (Bus Driverdagger), Eugene Dynarski (Man in Café), Lucille Benson (Lady at Snakerama), Tim Herbert (Gas Station Attendant), and Charles Seel (Old Man) 

Directed by Steven Spielberg (#126 - Close Encounters of the Third Kind, #168 - Raiders of the Lost Ark, #169 - Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, #170 - Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, #302 - Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, #351 - Schindler's List, #480 - Jaws, #563 - The Sugarland Express, #573 - E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, #642 - Jurassic Park, #958 - Always, #1068 - Ready Player One, #1305 - Catch Me If You Can, #1478 - The Color Purple, #1520 - Saving Private Ryan, and #1528 - A.I. Artificial Intelligence, #1560 - The Adventures of Tintin, #1843 -  The Lost World: Jurrassic Park)

Review: 

"I mean, I believe that stuff. I don't think you can be a filmmaker, a serious filmmaker making audience popcorn movies unless you believe the stories you're telling."

In roughly 2,000 movies seen over the past twelve years or so, the one constant presence among the 133 directors with at least four films spotlighted is Steven Spielberg. One always has to remember that Spielberg got his start as a director from a very young age. The Cincinnati native made his first film with Firelight (1964) at the age of 17. Of course, his most prominent work in the early era came with Amblin' (1968), a short film that was so successful that he was signed to a deal with Universal Studios because an executive in Sid Sheinberg liked it that much. Of course, he had an ambition to want to direct films, but he found that he really had to get work within television first before someone would want him to direct films. As such, he would direct episodes for six television shows alongside three television films. You might recognize him as a director on two firsts: the second segment of the pilot for Night Gallery ("Eyes") and the director of the first regular episode of Columbo ("Murder by the Book") in September of 1971. Duel was his first true television film, airing on November 13, 1971 (weeks before Spielberg turned 25).

The film was written by Richard Matheson, who adapted his own short story that originally had been published in the April 1971 edition of Playboy magazine (after failing to get it done on television or as a film with executives), with inspiration taken from a real-life incident where he was tailgated by a trucker on November 22, 1963; the story was written after he took a trip from home to Ventura to record what he saw. Matheson, as one might know, was a noted writer of fiction, film, and television, whether that involved The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957) or episodes of the original The Twilight Zone. Spielberg's secretary Nona Tyson read the story and suggested it to Spielberg to try and lobby to make due to the plans already being set in motion by Universal. Spielberg showed a rough cut of his Columbo episode to help make a good impression to studio executives, which worked with the caveat of having just ten days to film. With a completion of 13 days with the use of five editors to make a Universal Television product ready for ABC's Movie of the Week, the film just made it to the finish line, helped by Spielberg and his skill in plotting out every camera shot he needed with an overhead map he commissioned that he had done of the area in California that would be for shooting (as opposed to doing it in a soundstage). Upon hearing the good ratings of the film (remember, this was 1971), Universal decided to give it a theatrical release, primarily in Europe and Australia (there apparently was a limited release in the United States, in 1983). When it came for a theatrical release, several scenes were shot later to make a 74-minute film into 90, which consists of: a scene involving a railroad crossing, one involving the lead dealing with a school bus and its driver, a scene on the phone with a character (Scott) in their only scene of the film, and an opening with a car backing out of a garage before it hits the open road (the TV one just shows it on the road already). Spielberg would make his formal debut in features with The Sugarland Express in 1974, and the rest is history.

The best films are the ones that adhere to their premises that you can tie down in a certain amount of sentences without having to strain in why it seems so interesting. This is especially apparent when you think about a movie about a man being terrorized on the road by a man in a truck whose face you never see. It really is a miracle movie, if you think about it. Can you imagine shooting a film like this in twelve days for television and then go on to find that it would be one that created demand for a theatrical release but also manage to be talked about after a half-century? Network Movie of the Weeks may be a thing of the past when it comes to must-see TV for most people, but one thing that has never gotten out of style is the thrill of a wonderful chase, and Spielberg excels handily here in a film that seems to lay all the stops for how he would make an even more captivating thriller of man and things around him with Jaws (1975). Both feature a creature that simply cannot be negotiated with and only lives to destroy anything vulnerable enough to its reach and both even feature the same rattle of sound. You haven't lived until you see a Peterbilt gasoline tanker truck look menacing in all of its dark brown glory. Believe it or not, Weaver was not the first choice. Gregory Peck, David Janssen, and Dustin Hoffman each were approached and turned down the role (Peck was approached with the idea as a theatrical film and not as a TV production), which opened the door for Weaver. He was perhaps best known for his roles as the secondary lead on Gunsmoke (1955-1964) and as the title lead in the 1970s police drama McCloud. Actually, it was his supporting role in Touch of Evil (1958) as a twitchy motel man that Spielberg found most interesting in intensity when it came to backing Weaver for the role. As such, he is allowed to roam at his own vulnerable pace, which either sees him look over his shoulder or try to compose himself with select dialogue. It isn't anything transcendent, but it is the kind of acting challenge that one in theory would love to have, since it involves someone trying their hardest to not turn the role into one that bounces off the wall in fear and instead find a clear balance. Spielberg excels when it comes to the visual storytelling that comes through in his shots that he wanted to make sure were not just comprised as close-ups with little to express, especially for a film that has to find tricks to make the speed of the car look as fast it seems to be going on screen while having multiple cameras running. This proves especially rewarding in the final sequence of man versus truck that sees one arrive at their final destination with glorious capturing by the cameras to make a worthy ending (thankfully, due to executive help, ABC's request to have an explosion at the end was not put in). As a whole, Duel is an achievement of worthwhile creativity for its filmmaker to make a simple premise into one of great tension that Alfred Hitchcock surely would have been proud of with a resourceful sense of timing and staging and one quality performance to make a highly memorable strike that makes a great first step into further curiosity. It takes it time in the best of ways that any young filmmaker would want to aspire for in their ambitions in satisfying the need to serve as a visual storyteller and entertain their audience with a solid foundation of craftsmanship for filmmaking.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

And so here we are at last. It took 2,495 days from the very first review to get to #1000 on October 19, 2017. 2,009 days later, a new collection of 1,000 reviews is here, no doubt aided by the fact that I have managed to write at least ten reviews for a month in all but six months that have followed October 2017 (to say nothing of 2020, a massive undertaking in a strange year). I think they outrank the original 1,000 by a significant margin, and that counts even with the revised reviews (such as #1). 

I hope the last five years have seen interesting films be featured with a useful perspective, whether that involved trying to make theme months out of January or August, or with spotlighting black history in film with February or women history with March or with the march of horror films in October and November. With any luck, I hope the next 1,000 is just as worthy of curiosity for readers out there. Onward.