Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines.

Review #2492: Those Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines or How I Flew from London to Paris in 25 Hours and 11 Minutes.

Cast: 

Stuart Whitman (Orvil Newton), Sarah Miles (Patricia Rawnsley), James Fox (Richard Mays), Alberto Sordi (Count Emilio Ponticelli), Robert Morley (Lord Rawnsley), Gert Fröbe (Colonel Manfred von Holstein), Jean-Pierre Cassel (Pierre Dubois), Irina Demick (Brigitte, Ingrid, Marlene, Françoise, Yvette, Betty), Red Skelton (Neanderthal Man, Roman Birdman, Middle Ages Inventor, Victorian-era Pilot, Rocket Pack Inventor, Modern Airline Passenger), Terry-Thomas (Sir Percy Ware-Armitage), Eric Sykes (Courtney), Benny Hill (Fire Chief Perkins), Yūjirō Ishihara (Yamamoto; voice dubbed by James Villiers), Flora Robson (Mother Superior), Karl Michael Vogler (Captain Rumpelstrosse), Sam Wanamaker (George Gruber), and Tony Hancock (Harry Popperwell)

Directed by Ken Annakin.

Review:

Sure, let's talk about another vehicle-heavy movie from 1965. The impetus for making the film came from Ken Annakin's interest in aviation from a young age, as he apparently was taken up by Sir Alan Cobham in a biplane once. Born in Beverly, East Riding of Yorkshire in England, he decided to forgo being an income tax inspector (like his dad wanted) to travel around the world doing a variety of jobs, whether that was stage manager of a travelling roadshow or working as a firefighter in the outbreak of World War II. He was a member of the Royal Air Force as a flight mechanic before an injury during the Blitz saw him join their Film Unit to work as a camera operator. He worked for directors such as Carol Reed on documentaries for several years. After the war ended, he made some documentaries with Sydney Box before being assigned to his first feature with Holiday Camp (1947), which started his career off handily well. He made a variety of features on a regular basis, whether that involved stuff such as segments for the W. Somerset Maugham anthology movies Quartet (1948) and Trio (1950), a handful of movies for Disney such as The Story of Robin Hood and His Merrie Men (1952) or his personal favorite film, Across the Bridge (1957) or exteriors for epics such as The Longest Day (1962). As was the case with Longest Day, Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines was a 20th Century Fox production. Released in June of 1965, the movie was a general success. Annakin wrote the film with Jack Davies, and they received the film's only Academy Award nomination for its screenplay (the first and only time either man was up said award). A follow-up of sorts to Flying Machines came with Monte Carlo or Bust (1969) for Paramount, which shares a few cast members from this film*. all the way to his seventies with The New Adventures of Pippi Longstocking (1988) and did work on a Genghis Khan film that never got off the ground in the 1990s. He died in 2009 at the age of 94.

One thing is for sure: it is handily better than that other epic of the year that involved a big cast and intriguing visuals trying to be funny with The Great Race (right down to the ending being less of a copout). Of course, this is the kind of movie I suppose you really would like better in seeing planes go up rather than the overall humor of the movie, which is only a few notches higher than "hit or miss" for a movie set in 1910 that aims to be a farce involving the quirks of early flight for British currency (hey 10,000 of their "pounds" in 1910 is equal to about 100 times that nowadays) and actual period-accurate life-sized working aero planes. They are surely a sight to see, and the general view one gets from the film when it comes to the flying is actually quite nice to look at. It might seem bloated at around 138 minutes, which doesn't account for the intermission (that lasts around six minutes) or the introduction to the film involving the history of flying+credits (also six minutes). But its a movie with slapstick and shenanigans when studios wanted to give people something to really go to the theater to see rather than staying home for TV, so there it goes. There isn't one really great performance in the film, but there are a few handy little moments from the folks, such as a folksy Whitman (chosen because Dick Van Dyke never got the offer from his agent) providing a few chuckles as one might do in American spirit or the blustery confidence that arises from Frobe and the obvious cad nature from Terry-Thomas. Morley dominates the British stuffy spirit probably a bit more than Fox, but I think you get what they are going for. You get a sense that the drive to fly was a noble one for those who really had the drive to do so while also realizing that one has to be a bit of a nut to really go out there and fly across any sort of environment for any sort of time (I can count the amount of times I've been on a plane on exactly one hand, and none in the last 14 years)*. Of course, dwelling on the race itself isn't really the point when you've got people engaging in a duel with balloons to go with everyone getting in their stereotypes (when you've got the British involved, that almost goes without saying), complete with one scene having a plane get fixed by a bunch of nuns all in the name of making sure a Catholic wins. The title song is, well, a charmer too. As a whole, it is clear that this was a worthwhile passion project for Annakin and company to show a few interesting visuals with planes and the countryside that makes for a leisurely good time for those in the spirit of what ends up in the air. It just might fly right for you too.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

*Specifically, Terry-Thomas, Gert Fröbe and Eric Sykes returned for the movie, which in America was known as "Those Daring Young Men in Their Jaunty Jalopies". Annakin and Davies wrote the film together. Incidentally, the theme from Flying Machines apparently was played during the funeral of Terry-Thomas in 1990.

*Even recognizing the history of flight can be full of nuts. Annakin wanted a Wright Flyer in the film and therefore got a Bristol that happened to have a common layout with the plane. The Smithsonian Institution actually had a long running dispute with the Wright brothers about putting the original Flyer (there were three Flyers) on display because they wanted to honor one of their former secretaries that had his own tests with flying in Samuel Pierpont Langely's Aerodrome before the Flyer finally was put in the Smithsonian in 1948, 45 years after the historic flight on December 17, 1903. Incidentally, that plane flew a total of four times in its lifetime, with the longest flight being over 800 feet in just under a minute. 

Eaten Alive.

Review #2281: Eaten Alive.

Cast: 

Neville Brand (Judd), Mel Ferrer (Harvey Wood), Carolyn Jones (Miss Hattie), Marilyn Burns (Faye), William Finley (Roy), Stuart Whitman (Sheriff Martin), Roberta Collins (Clara Wood), Kyle Richards (Angie), Robert Englund (Buck), Janus Blythe (Lynette), and Crystin Sinclaire (Libby Wood) Directed by Tobe Hooper (#348 - Poltergeist, #1297 - The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, #1909 - The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, #2134 - Lifeforce)

Review: 

"I like the unknown and strange, bizarre things. It's really weird because I've had people ask me about making these films. Do they scare you when you're making them? No, it's not at all scary. When you shoot these things and you see that they work, you're laughing, and it becomes a comedy to you."

It sure is weird to get a runaway classic on your second try as a director. In 1974, Tobe Hooper and Kim Henkel wrote the screenplay to The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, which you already know would be Hooper's crowning achievement. However, less people might know of his next effort with this film, one that was written by Henkel, this time co-writing it with Alvin L. Fast and Mardi Rustam. The movie apparently took inspiration from the serial killer Joe Ball, who killed at least two people in the 1930s and had an alligator pit (he apparently didn't throw people in there, but "Alligator Man" was one nickname applied to him anyway) in his place in Texas. The film apparently has had several alternate titles (probably because Mars Productions didn't exactly make a killing on original release), such as "Death Trap", "Horror Hotel", and "Starlight Slaughter". Incidentally, Hooper grew up to a family that operated their own theater. Hooper had a few disagreements with producers (supposedly leaving the production before it finished), with the money that had come to do the film apparently only coming with the stipulation that he would do the film, which had a bit of handwringing in writing. However, he would keep busy in the next couple of years, directing a TV miniseries of Salem's Lot in 1979 before he got his first prominent studio film with The Funhouse (1981).

It's funny, if you make a hokey little movie with some commitment to gore or at least one energetic performance, you have my attention. Of course, this is a movie that decides to start itself off with a hooker rejecting the advances of a man trying to get behind for his services, so one has a feel that this is going to be a weird one. With a film filled with a key eccentric performance and a few sticking points of would-be and known names to go along with one strange set piece, you have the stage for a curious bit of low budget sleaze hokum. I actually kind of like this ridiculous movie. The whole film was shot on a sound stage at Raleigh Studios in Hollywood, complete with a large pool that doubled for the swamp. Hooper aimed for a "surrealistic, twilight world" with the hotel in terms of lighting, which is amusing to see play out for such a delightful exploitative film that would be right at home for people who liked, say, Two Thousand Maniacs! (1964), complete with little to really say about the characters beyond mayhem. Brand went through the gamut of acting as a heavy (Western or otherwise), tough-guy roles and the occasional lead for film and plenty of TV. Here he clearly was given the light to just go nuts and have fun, complete with getting to use a scythe at one point. He makes for a capable unstable monster worth following along with, a terror in his own square of squalor that seems to like his space and his gator. The movie isn't really that big on showing the alligator, showing it only for scenes involving, well, the body count, but I don't mind too much (others might be weirded out by one pet death, but, well....). You have your mix of actors of varying experience of familiarity like Burns (returning to work with Hooper in probably her second most known film role), Jones (in her penultimate film role), Ferrer (a career vet on the mend), and Englund and Richards (in the horror film before each became more well known, although Englund did work with Hooper twice more with Night Terrors [1993] and The Mangler [1995]). Burns probably comes out the best when it comes to reacting to terror, although there is something amusing about seeing Englund play a sleazeball with ease (Jones is more a cameo than anything). The 91-minute runtime might not be the easiest sit for everybody when it comes to weird and alluring sleaze, but there is something curious about the whole affair that keeps me going even when it just looks like a vehicle for death, mostly because that hotel set really is quite striking to get stuck looking into. As a whole, Hooper was a curious director that used his fascination with the strange and murky things to make a film that works for a specific kind of interested horror fan that goes in knowing Hooper was more than just a one-trick pony. In that sense, it might be for you.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.