Blazing Magnum (1976)
Mainstream films are easy to recommend to people. They’re usually formulaic, work within clear parameters and they’re not controversial. Most people, when viewing such film on someone else’s suggestion, are left with a fairly simply choice. Did they like it or not? Whatever the outcome, no feathers are ruffled. No one looks at you askance afterwards and says “why the hell did you think I’d like that piece of shit”? If something like this happens, then you have clearly not recommended a mainstream film. Perhaps you’ve suggested something that’s a little more of an acquired taste. Something niche, from a very specific sub-genre. Which brings me neatly to Blazing Magnum AKA Strange Shadows in an Empty Room (1976). The US title gives the impression that this film is a hard boiled cop thriller, like so many others that followed in the wake of Dirty Harry. But there’s a clue in the European title. Yes, this movie has more than just a whiff of a giallo about it.
After his younger sister is poisoned while attending Montreal University, tough Ottawa cop, Captain Saitta (Stuart Whitman) embarks on a violent journey through the city to find her killer. He initially suspects that the Doctor who treated her, George Tracer (Martin Landau) may be involved in her death. However, an attack on his sister’s room mate, Julie (Tisa farrow), indicates that his sister may have been involved in something criminal. Further investigation links her to an unsolved robbery and murder. This is the most succinct summary I can give because despite positioning itself as a poliziotteschi film, the story stylistically far closer to the gaillo genre. Hence the plot is filled with red herrings, obtuse asides and a narrative resolution that is unnecessarily complex and when pondered seems somewhat illogical. Furthermore, being an Italian production from the seventies, all the dialogue is re-recorded and dubbed in post production, further adding to its European ambience.
As well as a convoluted plot, an interesting cast (which also includes John Saxon and Gayle Hunnicutt) Blazing Magnum also features the usual unpleasantness associated with seventies exploitation cinema. Captain Saitta ends up in a brutal fist fight with several drag queens (referred to here as Transvestites) resulting in one unfortunate having a hot curling iron shoved up their fundament. A baby is later held at knife point and it’s best not to even contemplate the rectitude of the Police Department’s investigative processes or their diversity training, as both are questionable. However, there is a solid car chase, staged by Rémy Julienne which is worth a watch and even some miniature work at the film climax, involving a hospital helicopter. Overall, Blazing Magnum remains the preserve of seasoned viewers of seventies exploitation cinema. Casual viewers may well be offended. If you’re an ardent Stuart Whitman fan and want an action movie from this period, try Shatter (1974) instead.
In the year 1860, Baron Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) faces execution by guillotine for the murders perpetrated by the creature he created. With the assistance of a hunchback named Karl (Oscar Quitak) he avoids death by beheading the priest who came to give him the last rites. The priest’s body is then mistakenly buried by the authorities. Three years later, Victor, now using the name Doctor Stein, has established himself as a prosperous physician in Karlsbrück, serving both affluent patients and the poor at a paupers’ hospital. Hans Kleve (Francis Matthews), a junior member of the medical council, recognises Victor and being an admirer, seeks to become his apprentice. Victor and Hans then undertake an experiment to transplant Karl’s living brain into a new, more refined body, rather than a grotesque monstrosity the Baron has previously made. Karl is eager to have a new healthy body, especially after encountering Margaret Conrad (Eunice Gayson), the charming new assistant at the hospital.
This movie questionnaire was originally created by Alexander from Cinemaniac Reviews. Sadly, I believe that website is now defunct. However, that doesn’t in anyway invalidate the questionnaire itself which has some very good questions about your relationship with cinema. Some of my answers to the questions posed are about films that I enjoy, as opposed to those that are considered cinematic classics. However, I have answered some questions more seriously than others, especially the one about undeserving recipients of the Best Film Oscar. I struggled with a couple of questions because I no longer go the cinema as frequently as I did 10 years ago. This is mainly due to the fact that a lot of the films I find interesting end up going straight to streaming after very brief theatrical releases. Some do not even get shown in cinemas. Hence I view far more at home. But I digress. On with the questions and answers. Feel free to comment below and share your views.
Exit 8 is a sophisticated and claustrophobic psychological thriller directed by Genki Kawamura, which skilfully transforms a minimalist indie walking-simulator game into a cinematic existential enigma. This overtly metaphorical film renders the repetitive nature and drudgery of modern working life into a physical environment in which the lead character is trapped and must find a way out. A random, brutal maze filled with an atmosphere of indifference to the lab rats that find themselves trapped within. Or is it their personal guilt that has put them there? Genki Kawamura’s psychological mystery draws inspiration from the Japanese video game of the same name, as well as from the cyclical nature of Groundhog Day and endless corridors of the Overlook Hotel in Kubrick’s The Shining. Although there are jump scares and some ghoulish imagery, this is not a horror vehicle. Instead this is a disquieting psychological drama with a strong sense of morality.
I wrote a post 18 month’s ago regarding whether a directors cut of a film is superior by default to the version originally shown in cinemas. Obviously the answer was no and I then went on to give three examples of films where I think the theatrical release is better to lengthier or substantially altered director’s cut that was subsequently made available at a later date. This time round in this post, I would like to do the complete opposite. I shall provide some examples of films that I think are significantly improved by a longer cut or a substantially, restructured edit. Note some of these examples are technically not a “director’s cuts” but a restoration or reconstruction of the director’s original vision. I shall endeavour to highlight what specific material or broader changes make each respective film “better”. As ever, all of these examples are a matter of subjective opinion and my views are presented as such, not “fact”.
In 1968 the dilapidated freighter Corita hastily leaves Freetown to avoid a customs inspection. Captain Lansen (Eric Porter) has a cargo of dangerous explosives which he is smuggling so he can finally retire. His ship’s passengers also have reasons for leaving in a hurry. Dr. Webster (Nigel Stock), together with his daughter Unity (Suzanna leigh), is relocating due to his indiscretions with patients and illegal operations. Alcoholic pianist Harry Tyler (Tony Beckley) is aimlessly drifting from port to port. Eva Peters (Hildegard Knef) is fleeing from her husband with stolen bearer bonds which she intend to use to buy back her son from his evil clutches Caracas. Ricaldi (Ben Carruthers), a questionable lawyer, is pursuing Eva to retrieve the stolen bonds. First officer Hemmings (Neil McCallum) suggests that the ship should return to Freetown after an imminent Hurricane warning. The Captain asks the passengers and they are unanimous that they do not wish to return. However a mutinous crew, the bad weather and the instability of the explosives force everyone to abandon ship. The survivors find themselves adrift in a lifeboat surrounded by a strange carnivorous seaweed.
Jason Statham is an exemplar of the US mantra of “staying in your lane”. He makes action movies and occasionally strays into action comedies. His formula broadly works and is sufficiently lucrative to keep Mr. Statham employed. Therefore, if you watch a film in which he stars, you have a fairly good idea of what you’ll be getting. Of late, the criteria for his action vehicles have become more succinct. Jason Statham will play an innocuous character, such as a construction foreman or a bee keeper. Something terrible will subsequently befall another character who Mr. Statham has an emotional connection with in some capacity. He will subsequently hunt down those responsible and meet out death and violence. At some point the villain of the story will enquire as to how this innocuous person is so lethal. Research will then show that our Jason is in fact an ex-police officer/special forces operative/international assassin. There’s then a showdown and the villain dies. Job done.
The Light at the Edge of the World presented itself as an action movie upon its release in 1971. Based upon a story by Jules Verne, the Spanish American co-production was driven by its star Kirk Douglas, who curiously hired British director Kevin Billington to helm the project. This tale of a lighthouse keeper fighting a war of attrition against a group of pirates that have captured his island, was market as an adventure film ostensibly in the idiom of the authors previous works and as a pirate movie. MGM bought the rights to distribute the film in the UK on the misunderstanding that it was a family friendly production. It was not and remains so. They subsequently had to cut 15 minutes of violence and torture as well as an undercurrent of sexual assault to secure a suitable rating. Conversely, the US distributors received an arbitrary PG rating, despite the fact this is one of a handful of films that honestly depicts pirates as murderers, rapists and worse.
It’s an established action film trope. The fire team comprised of ex-military personnel, move in on their target. Only to have the tables turned by someone they don’t deem a threat. What makes it different in The Last Stand of Ellen Cole is a throwaway line of dialogue. The bested operative lies bleeding on the floor and the protagonists stands over them ready to finish them off. “Don’t, I have a cat” they feebly plead. For me that was the icing on the cake. The movie had already established it was taking the “same old, same old” and doing something different. Something fun, if taken in the right spirit. This scene tipped the balance and I embraced this film because it was being honest about what it is. This is a modern B movie that decides to give a very specific sub-genre a makeover. Furthermore, its clearly done with an affectionate wink, which is very different to sly wink. This isn’t deliberate self-knowing irony. Its just a film doing something different and possibly silly but it genuinely wants to have fun with it.
David Koepp is no stranger to genre cinema, having written the screenplay for such films as Jurassic Park, Spider-man and War of the Worlds. Where these titles are big budget, major studio productions, Cold Storage is a far more modest production with a smaller scope. Adapted from his own novel, the screenplay is by David Koepp and the film is directed by British film-maker Jonny Campbell. At first glance, Cold Storage seems a somewhat derivative science fiction horror film with a relatively modest budget, financed through a convoluted US and French co-production. Lurid green and red colours feature heavily in the marketing artwork and it is easy, after a cursory look, to write the film off as cheap, generic, direct-to-streaming filler. However, Cold Storage is prime example of why you should not judge a book by it’s cover, or in this case, a film by its posters and online advertising. It is in fact an amusing and fun endeavour that can fill an evening.
Despite being considered by many as an original story, The Abominable Snowman (1957) is in fact a remake of a made for television play, The Creature, that was originally broadcast in the UK in 1955. Hammer Films would often purchase the rights of popular TV programs and subsequently re-work them for mainstream, international cinema. Larger production budgets and fewer censorship restrictions allowed them to make their cinematic interpretations more lurid, thus commercially viable. Hence The Quatermass Xperiment, Quatermass II and Quatermass and the Pit were all given a big screen makeover and were commercially successful. The Abominable Snowman was written by acclaimed writer Nigel Kneale, who also wrote the original television drama and the aforementioned Quatermass trilogy. Although ostensibly marketed as a horror film this production is actually an interesting blend of psychological thriller and science fiction.
There are certain subjects that are notoriously uncinematic. These tend to be things that exist or are undertaken mainly in the mind, rather than expressed in an overtly physical way. Computing, science and mathematics are good examples. Writing code or working out complex equations does not immediately lend themselves to a visual medium such as cinema. Therefore, any film dealing with the world of corporate finance has its work cut out. Hence writer-director J C Chandor immediately deserves praise for making Margin Call, a film about the financial crash of 2008, as gripping and compelling as any political thriller. He does this by keeping the financial elements of the story to a minimum, choosing instead to focus upon those who have become aware of the imminent crisis and their reaction to it. However, the film remains a tough watch with regard to the some of the characters and their respective personal morality or lack there of.
The 1937 Hindenburg disaster has remained an enduring mystery over the years. The physical mechanics of how this airship filled with 7,000,000 cubic feet of hydrogen gas caught fire has been fully explored over the decades and there are now several extremely plausible theories as to how it may have happened. However, there remains the possibility of sabotage. As such an idea has more dramatic potential than mechanical failure, it was used as the central theme of the 1975 disaster movie The Hindenburg. Directed by Robert Wise, the screenplay by Nelson Gidding explores a German resistance against the Nazi regime. The airship is targeted as it is a powerful propaganda symbol for Hitler’s Germany. Sadly despite some interesting ideas, a strong cast and solid, old school optical effects, The Hindenburg is a slow and somewhat ponderous production. Although the final 20 minutes of the film recreate the infamous explosion meticulously, it doesn’t quite compensate for the uneventful, dialogue driven investigation of the previous 100 minutes.
On the Eastern Front in 1943, a German Tiger tank crew led by Lieutenant Philip Gerkens (David Schütter) is sent on a mission to rescue the missing officer Paul von Hardenburg (Tilman Strauss) from a top-secret bunker that is at risk of falling into enemy hands. As they make their way through an eerie no-man’s land, they have to avoid Russian armoured vehicles that seem to be aware of their mission. They also encounter a German unit taking punitive action against a peasant village, in reprisal for partisan activity in the area. The youngest crew member, Michel (Yoran Leicher), talks of the land being home to ghosts and spirits. As the tank penetrates further into contested territory the crew become increasingly disturbed by the uncanny nature of their mission and begin to fall prey to their own inner fears.
Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic novel has been adapted for cinema and television numerous times. Perhaps the most well known is the 1950 Disney version, starring Robert Newton as Long John Silver. His eye rolling performance and exaggerated West Country accent is credited with popularising the stereotypical form of “pirate speech" that has become the pop culture default. Although an enjoyable film, it does gloss over the more sinister aspects of both the source text and history, perpetuating the myth that pirates are just loveable scoundrels. Many subsequent adaptations have fallen into the same trap to a greater or lesser degree. However, that is not the case with the 1990 version of Treasure island, which was made for the TNT cable network and released theatrically outside of the US. This darker and notably more violent adaptation closely follows the source text and is widely considered the most faithful to the book.
The Planet of the Apes movie franchise took a radical change of course with its third entry in the series. The first two films were set in the future and benefited from high production values to help realise a post apocalyptic earth. However, due to a substantial reduction of budget, Escape from the Planet of the Apes uses a time travel plot device to bring the ape protagonists to present day Los Angeles (1971 in this case). The result is a film with a much smaller narrative scope. However, although it lacks the science fiction spectacle of its predecessors, it features an interesting satirical exploration of celebrity culture and ponders what it is like to be deemed an enemy of the state. As ever, Roddy McDowell and Kim Hunter provide exceptional lead performances as the Chimpanzees Cornelius and Zira. Escape from the Planet of the Apes also captures the pop culture vibe of seventies America.
It is not unusual for Disney to change film titles when marketing them outside of the US. In 2016 they renamed the animated feature film Zootopia to Zootropolis in the UK and Europe to avoid trademark conflicts with other existing businesses. For example there is a Danish zoo which already holds the “Zootopia” name. Similarly, in Germany there is a children’s book which caused copyright conflict, which led to the film being released under the title Zoomania. Such changes, although practical for legal reasons, can sometimes cause a degree of confusion. Especially as there are numerous, low budget productions companies that go out of their way to produce similarly titled “mockbusters” whenever there are big, tentpole, releases. So for clarity, Zootopia 2 has been released in the UK as Zootropolis 2.
Stephen King’s dystopian story, The Running Man, was previously adapted very loosely in 1987, as a vehicle for Arnold Schwarzenegger. That version focused mainly on the “Battle Royale” element of the story and leaned heavily into Arnie’s personality, rather than the politics of the book. It also wasn’t well received by the author. Edgar Wright’s remake follows the source text a lot more closely and is far more interested in its political themes and wider social commentary. Furthermore, this version re-establishes the everyman quality of the hero of Ben Richards, rather than him being the muscle bound, ex-military hero as per Mr. Schwarzenegger’s prior interpretation. This time round, The Running Man uses a lot of the visual and narrative tropes of contemporary reality TV, making this forty three year old story very relevant to today’s viewers and couching the film in a style that is recognisable and accessible.
The Haunted Dolls House is a short film based on a story by M.R. James about a unique antique that is subject to supernatural phenomenon. Adapted by Stephen Gray and David Lilley, this is the third of three short films based upon James’ work that the pair have made. It stars Steven Dolton as Mr. Dillet, a collector of antique dolls houses, who acquires a bargain only to discover that it harbours a ghostly secret. Made on an extremely modest budget over the course of 2012 this clever, innovative and rather sinister adaptation is a fine example of short film creativity. It manages to offer a unique visual depiction of M.R. James’ classic story whilst capturing the unsettling quality of the author’s work. Like so many independently made short films it is clearly a labour of love, made with modest resources. It succinctly captures the spirit of the author’s work and is both innovative and rewarding.
A lot of people may know Luke Evans from the live action version of Beauty and the Beast or Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit trilogy. With his matinee idol good looks, charming Welsh demeanour and his “smoky” tenor singing voice, he projects a sense of old school stardom. Which brings us to No One Lives; a film which is a radical departure from his previous work. His performance is disconcerting to say the least and the film is somewhat unhinged. Directed by Ryuhei Kitamura, who made an interesting adaptation of Clive Barker’s The Midnight Meat Train, this cinematic outing is similarly replete with robust shocks and gore. There are some interesting ideas about the nature of violence, Stockholm Syndrome and whether one should deny or embrace one’s nature. However, these are ultimately minor asides. Philosophical musings in between bouts of surprisingly striking unpleasantness.
In the near future, Kepler 822, a research and drilling facility located at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, suffers a sudden and catastrophic structural failure. There are only six survivors. Mechanical engineer Norah Price (Kristen Stewart), Captain Lucien (Vincent Cassel), biologist Emily Haversham (Jessica Henwick), engineer Liam Smith (John Gallagher Jr.) and crew members Rodrigo (Mamoudou Athie) and Paul (T.J. Miller). As all the functional escape pods have been used and they are unable to contact the surface, the Captain suggests using pressurized suits to walk one mile across the ocean floor to the Roebuck 641 drill installation. There they will find more escape pods. However, it soon becomes apparent that the disaster was not caused by an undersea earthquake and that they are not alone as they make their journey.
One of the most common objections raised regarding the Jurassic Park/Jurassic World franchise is that the films are specifically made to obtain a PG-13 rating from the Motion Picture Association, for purely commercial reasons. Hence, in all films, there is little on screen violence and the dinosaurs are mainly portrayed as a threat and a means of providing jump scares. When a character is killed by a dinosaur it usually happens off screen, is obscured by something else in frame, or is shown in long shot with very little detail. The realities of being eaten alive by a predator are conspicuously absent. Hence, audiences looking for films featuring more graphic dinosaur attacks, have not been well catered for apart from some minor direct-to-video titles. Primitive War finally fills this gap in the market with a frenetic genre mashup that strives to punch above is budgetary weight.
During the seventies, cinema was not only a source of mass, commercial entertainment but was still perceived as a medium for intellectual and philosophical discourse. Television was a poor relation in terms of art and cultural significance. Film was where the so called auteur director could muse and ruminate upon the nature of the human condition and audiences could subsequently gush sycophantically about their work at dinner parties. Or something like that. Let it suffice to say that some film makers were still indulged by studios and financiers, who were still keen to cash in on the cultural sea change that came to Hollywood in the late sixties. It’s difficult to see how a film such as Emperor of the North (AKA Emperor of the North Pole) could have been made otherwise. A film set in the Great Depression about a hobo illegally travelling on freight trains and his feud with a ruthless conductor.
In Buenos Aires, Clara (Natalia Señorales) hears voices emanating from the plughole in her kitchen sink. The voices seem to be plotting against her. Her husband Juan (Agustín Rittano) says the sounds are coming from next door. That night, Juan finds Clara’s dead body levitating in their bathroom, slamming against the wall by an invisible force. Meanwhile their neighbour, Walter (Demián Salomón), is experiencing supernatural occurrences while he tries to sleep. An invisible force repeatedly shakes his bed. After using a video camera to film these events, he sees a tall, cadaverous figure emerging from under the bed, standing over him as he sleeps. Across the road, Alicia (Julieta Vallina) is grieving for her recently deceased son, who was run over outside Walter’s house. Alicia's ex-boyfriend, police commissioner Funes (Maximiliano Ghione) calls Jano (Norberto Gonzalo), a paranormal investigator and the pair soon discover more supernatural occurrences in the area.
Black Sabbath (AKA I tre volti della paura) is a 1963 horror anthology film directed by Mario Bava. Although an Italian production, the film was co-financed by American International Pictures and as such was conceived to appeal to US audiences. Hence, the English dialogue edit of the film which was released in America differs significantly to the original Italian version. Despite the presence of the legendary Boris Karloff and the popularity of both anthology and gothic horror at the time,the film was only a modest success at the US box office and did not do well in Italy. However, in more recent years there has been a critical reappraisal of Black Sabbath, especially the Italian dialogue version. Many aspects of the film which are standard genre tropes today, were in fact novel at the time. Also despite the production mainly being studio bound, the film oozes style and has a striking visual aesthetic.
After the success of Raiders of the Lost Ark in 1981, filmmakers scrambled to find existing intellectual properties that they could use for similar films. Hence archaic heroes such as Alan Quatermain were hastily given a modern makeover and thrust into generic movies, in a vague attempt to replicate Steven Spielberg’s successful formula. Which brings us neatly on to James Charles Bigglesworth AKA “Biggles”, a fictional pilot and adventurer from a series of books written by W. E. Johns between 1932 and 1968. Several attempts had been made in the past to bring this character to the silver screen, including one by Disney but they all failed. However, the commercial and critical success of Indiana Jones provided sufficient impetus to greenlight a new film. However, due to some curious production choices, when Biggles was finally released it was far from just a period set, action movie.
Setting aside the hubris of remaking a film such as Red Dawn, the 2012 reboot had a troubled production. Shot over the course of late 2009, on location in Michigan, MGM intended to release the film in September 2010. However, the studio’s financial problems became unsustainable over the course of that year and the film was shelved, while a financial solution was sought. Furthermore, while Red Dawn was in post production, there was a major economic shift within Hollywood due to the increasing importance of the Chinese market. This was a significant problem for MGM because the new version of Red Dawn had the Chinese invading the USA instead of Russia. Hence there were reshoots and the need for additional visual effects, so that the Chinese could be replaced with North Koreans. MGM eventually went bankrupt and the distribution rights to Red Dawn were sold off. The film was eventually released in 2012.
American music producer James William Guercio is primarily known for his work in the music industry. He was the producer of the band Chicago’s first eleven studio albums. In the mid-seventies he also managed the Beach Boys and was a member of their backing band. He was during this time, well known in his field and respected. In 1973, Guercio directed, produced and wrote the score for his first and only feature film, Electra Glide in Blue. He was 28 years old at the time. Upon release the film received mixed reviews from many traditional US newspapers, who were dismissive of its revisionist themes and poetical style. However, in Europe the film was received more favourably and was entered into the 1973 Cannes Film Festival. Fifty two years on and Electra Glide in Blue is now considered an overlooked cult classic and is analysed in a more measured fashion.
When I first saw the promotional trailer for Gangster Squad back in 2012, prior to its release, I wasn't especially impressed. I simply thought the film was another attempt to re-invent the gangster genre for a generation who were not especially familiar with it. I wasn't exactly overwhelmed with director Ruben Fleischer's resume either. I didn't particularly like Zombieland and haven't seen 30 Minutes Or Less. Then came the tragic mass shootings in Aurora, Colorado which led to the movie being delayed so that the original ending, which featured a shoot-out in a movie theatre, could be replaced. Hence when I finally watched this film recently, I wasn't expecting a movie up to the standards of say Once Upon A Time In America or Miller’s Crossing and it would seem that I was right do so. Gangster Squad is not especially noteworthy in any respect.
Fluke is a curious film about a man who is reincarnated as a dog and his subsequent realisation that he may have been murdered. It takes an adult novel by British author James Herbert, which is filled with philosophical musing and strives to adapt it in a far more family friendly fashion. The result is a somewhat bipolar production which thematically alternates between existential introspection and Buddhism. It then strives to deliver its message in a Disneyesque idiom. Children will potentially be confused and upset by what they see and adults will be wrongfooted by the continual shift in tone. Fluke was not a critical or commercial success upon release and the flaws that were identified by critics at the time still ring true today. That being said, Fluke is still an interesting and entertaining film, despite its faults.
Roger Edwards
Mainstream films are easy to recommend to people. They’re usually formulaic, work within clear parameters and they’re not controversial. Most people, when viewing such film on someone else’s suggestion, are left with a fairly simply choice. Did they like it or not? Whatever the outcome, no feathers are ruffled. No one looks at you askance afterwards and says “why the hell did you think I’d like that piece of shit”? If something like this happens, then you have clearly not recommended a mainstream film. Perhaps you’ve suggested something that’s a little more of an acquired taste. Something niche, from a very specific sub-genre. Which brings me neatly to Blazing Magnum AKA Strange Shadows in an Empty Room (1976). The US title gives the impression that this film is a hard boiled cop thriller, like so many others that followed in the wake of Dirty Harry. But there’s a clue in the European title. Yes, this movie has more than just a whiff of a giallo about it.