Showing posts with label Robert Coote. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert Coote. Show all posts

October 20, 2023

Theatre of Blood.

Review #2116: Theatre of Blood.

Cast: 
Vincent Price (Edward Lionheart), Diana Rigg (Edwina Lionheart), Ian Hendry (Peregrine Devlin), Harry Andrews (Trevor Dickman), Robert Coote (Oliver Larding), Michael Hordern (George Maxwell), Robert Morley (Meredith Merridew), Coral Browne (Chloe Moon), Jack Hawkins (Solomon Psaltery), Arthur Lowe (Horace Sprout), Dennis Price (Hector Snipe), Milo O'Shea (Inspector Boot), Eric Sykes (Sgt. Dogge), and Diana Dors (Maisie Psaltery) Directed by Douglas Hickox.

Review: 
"I think of myself as an interpretive director. I'm a narrative director, basically. An audience should become totally involved in the film, the actors and the story. They shouldn't be aware of the director at all or of how things are done."

I'm sure you are familiar with The Abominable Dr. Phibes (1971) or its sequel. That film was directed by Robert Fuest with Vincent Price as the star that involved deaths with a bit of a theme to them (mostly in the original, which honed familiarity to the plagues). Fuest was actually asked about doing this film but declined by saying he didn't want to be "the guy who makes Vincent Price theme killing movies" (irony, as Fuest basically doomed his career by directing The Devil's Rain two years later). Instead, the film was directed by Douglas Hickox. He had directed a variety of musical shorts and commercials before becoming a feature director at the age of 41 in 1970. He directed a handful of films that had name actors star, whether that involved John Wayne in Brannigan (1975) or Burt Lancaster in Zulu Dawn (1979) to go with a few television shows before he died in 1988. Stanley Mann and John Kohn came up with the idea for the film before Anthony Greville-Bell wrote the screenplay. Apparently, Price later listed the film as one of his favorites he ever made. The theme for this film, if you didn't already guess, involves an actor-turned-killer going around reenacting the words of William Shakespeare while trying to get revenge of a considerable group of critics that apparently denied him the honor he most wanted as an actor to the point where it looked like he killed himself years before; this all starts with a man getting stabbed by a mob of people...on March 15, the Ides of March, the same day that Julius Caesar was murdered (as also covered in the Shakespeare play of the same name). As probably guessed, the film was a British production done on location, complete with filming a decent chunk at the Putney Hippodrome Theatre (auditorium, stage area, exterior) in the last significant use of the building before it was demolished in 1975.

Now this is one that seems practically made for folks like me, or at the very least people who adore Vincent Price in his element. How could you resist the urge for a film that has him act out the words of William Shakespeare going around trying to do creative death sequences? It manages to be better than both Phibes films when it comes to great theatricality in the face of amusing horror, and I would actually argue that it is Price at his best possible moment as an actor. The fact that the film also happens to contain a few other noted names in British cinema also helps make for a diverting film of pathos and humor in the best way. The 104-minute runtime is paced pretty well when it comes to Price and the others around him, mostly because it goes from the jump on ideas before eventually settling to some exposition and then its fiery climax. Price moves along from scene to scene by also getting to do a bit of dress up, which at one point sees him act as a hairdresser. This is the kind of material he was born to play in terms of horrific charm that is more than just scene-chewery but flat-out dominance of composed elegance. He had saved a whole bunch of films before from just being blank mediocrities or just fine B-films (at least until his roles became a bit slower by the mid-1970s), here is one just for him to hold in lunacy. Of course, folks like Rigg do pretty well too, since she plays support in derangement for a semi-significant part that is fairly fun as well. Hendry is the leader among the folks trying to avoid the ax, which mostly involves tempered snobbery that lends interest for the ones who are less fortunate (such as Morley, who gets to be a bit flamboyant right before having to realize that he is being fed pies...made from his dogs), while O'Shea plays the resident authority figure trying to make head or tails of it.  The buildup for the climax does slow the film down a bit when it comes to some oddly included exposition (hey, a man looks like he jumped into the Thames, who needs explanation?), but at least the ending seems just about on point for one more enduring line about critics and the nature of performances. This was a film released in the midst of a decade that saw horror perhaps shift a bit grislier away from the stuff that made Price an attraction, but everything still mostly clicks here for enjoyment that has also not aged after a half-century because of its entertaining composure and timing that is held in check by one really damn fun actor for all it is worth. It isn't a perfect film, but it probably is up there as one of Price's best showcases, and that is a really good thing to say from a horror perspective.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.
Next: Cabin Fever.

March 24, 2020

A Matter of Life and Death.

Review #1367: A Matter of Life and Death.

Cast:
David Niven (Peter Carter), Kim Hunter (June), Roger Livesey (Dr. Frank Reeves), Raymond Massey (Abraham Farlan), Marius Goring (Conductor 71), Kathleen Byron (Angel), Joan Maude (Chief Recorder), Robert Coote (Bob Trubshawe), Robert Atkins (the Vicar), Abraham Sofaer (the Judge), Richard Attenborough (English Pilot), and Bonar Colleano (American Pilot) Written, Produced, and Directed by Michael Powell (#400 - The Thief of Bagdad) and Emeric Pressburger.

Review:
Sometimes it takes two to make a film go right. Whether it is a collaboration between a producer and a director or a star and director, the best films are the ones that make every aspect work cohesively. Powell and Pressburger are certainly one of the most notable film partnerships in history, and for good reason. The British-born Powell had come from studio hand to title-writer to director in six years, with his debut being Two Crowded Hours (1931) that were followed by quote quickies before a notable success with The Edge of the World (1937). After a few years of directing films, he was hired by Alexander Korda on a contract, and he was soon brought in to do The Spy in Black (1939), where he first met Pressburger, who wrote the screenplay. Pressburger (born in Austria-Hungary) had gone from journalism to screenwriting, starting in Germany and France before leaving for England in 1935 after the Nazis came to power. Pressburger found his footing with fellow Hungarian filmmakers such as Korda and his studio London Films. Powell and Pressburger would ultimately do 24 films together from 1939 to 1972, with most of the films being released under their production company of The Archers, which lasted from 1943 to 1957, with notable films being 49th Parallel (1941, earning Pressburger an Academy Award for Best Story), Black Narcissus (1947), and The Red Shoes (1948).

Undeniably, this is a highlight for 1946, one that prevails in charm through a wonderfully assembled cast that has a sharp script and plenty of visual imagination to go along with it. The most notable effects of the film is the usage of black-and-white for scenes in the Other World, accomplished through not adding color to the print that were filmed in three-strip Technicolor. Of course the other notable effect of the film (released in America as Stairway to Heaven) that dazzles the imagination is a huge escalator, which had 106 stops that were 20 feet wide each and had hanging miniatures to help achieve the final effect. One will find themselves in awe most of the time when it comes to what the film aspires to do with its wit, one that is readily active in stoking emotion and curiosity in both worlds to where you never really want to see it ends. At the command in the film is Niven, wrapped with charisma as the finest everyman one could ever hope for, particularly when it comes to chemistry with Hunter, who is equally as enjoyable when it comes to exuding grace. Livesey provides charm as well, a capable hand of reason that stands at his tallest when it comes to the trial sequence, where he holds his own with the dignified Massey. Goring provides levity in his moments on screen, with the easiest one to highlight being when he appears to Niven after his friends' tennis match is frozen (which in it of itself is quite clever). There exists numerous highlights one can talk about when it comes to the film (in distinct colors, no less), from the capable choreography by Jack Cardiff to the court sequence with its massive set (composed of a 350ft x 40ft high blackcloth) that strikes at the heart with sentiment and a poignant ending that makes it one of the worthiest 104 minutes one could spend with imagination that can amaze any crowd, young or old. It is a film that strikes tenderly in a way that endures after over seven decades because of how much it dazzles with heart that works as well with postwar audiences as it does today, where one could really believe that love can be the strongest thing in our world. It's an easy film to recommend, a gem for Powell and Pressburger that stands with triumph now more than ever.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.