Salt: The Director's Cut (2010)
Director Phillip Noyce is no stranger to the thriller genre having made several competent examples such as Dead Calm, Patriot Games and Clear and Present Danger. Therefore, I was expecting a professionally crafted action film, when I recently purchased Salt on Blu-ray. However, it soon became apparent that Salt had suffered the usual indignities of studio interference during the course of its production, as there are three versions of the movie on the disc. The PG-13 theatrical version suffers from the usual ratings issues, so I chose to ignore it. The Extended cut includes new and alternative scenes as well as the violence restored but I felt it appropriate that I watch The Director's Cut for the fullest version of the movie. Specific details regarding the differences between all versions can be found at movie-censorship.com
Director Phillip Noyce is no stranger to the thriller genre having made several competent examples such as Dead Calm, Patriot Games and Clear and Present Danger. Therefore, I was expecting a professionally crafted action film, when I recently purchased Salt on Blu-ray. However, it soon became apparent that Salt had suffered the usual indignities of studio interference during the course of its production, as there are three versions of the movie on the disc. The PG-13 theatrical version suffers from the usual ratings issues, so I chose to ignore it. The Extended cut includes new and alternative scenes as well as the violence restored but I felt it appropriate that I watch The Director's Cut for the fullest version of the movie. Specific details regarding the differences between all versions can be found at movie-censorship.com
The Director's Cut of Salt is a stylish and gritty post Cold War thriller that benefits from a solid cast and imaginative writing. Initially written as a vehicle for Tom Cruise, Angelina Jolie had the script re-tooled by writer Brian Helgeland to more suit her requirements. Yes, the plot is somewhat farfetched but I consider its grandiose storyline to be an asset rather than a fault. The theme of deep cover Soviet agents waiting for decades to cause havoc reminded me of Don Siegel's 1977 movie Telefon. Salt is certainly no more preposterous than the convoluted adventures of Jason Bourne. The editing is certainly superior to that franchise, for starters.
The movies greatest strength is the central performance by Angelina Jolie as Evelyn Salt. Is she a loyal CIA operative or really a double agent? The film keeps you guessing and more to the point, Jolie keeps the viewer caring. She also acquits herself extremely well during the action sequences which are not the customary CGI-fest you usually get these days. There are some very good physical effects sequences featured in the Director's Cut as well as some solid hand to hand combat. Liev Schreiber and Chiwetel Eijofor provide robust support as investigating government agents without descending into caricature. Playing senior covert operatives can so often be subject to so much cliché.
Whenever Hollywood deviates from a standard formula and casts against established gender or racial stereotypes, such a decision can often overshadow a movie. Sometimes a need to justify this “difference” can even work its way into the screenplay. Salt avoids such stupidity and doesn't go to any length to crassly highlight the gender of its protagonist. It offers an entertaining one hundred minutes and includes all the standard tropes and memes one expects from this genre. The Director's Cut provides more narrative and plot development and is the most well rounded version of the movie. It certainly allows Angelina Jolie to do more than just perform her own stunt work and as such is the cut of the film I would recommend.
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.
The Ninth Configuration (1980)
In a remote Gothic castle in the Northwest of America, the US military attempt to determine whether a group of apparently deranged servicemen and one astronaut, Billy Cutshaw (Scott Wilson), are faking their insanity. When experimental psychiatrist Hudson Kane (Stacey Keach) arrives to take charge, he is subtly persuaded by Cutshaw and fellow inmate Lt. Reno (who is adapting the works of Shakespeare for dogs) to indulge the men's delusions and engage in extravagant roleplay therapy. As Center 18 descends into insanity, it becomes clear to Sargent Groper (Neville Brand) of the hospital staff, that the new psychiatrist may be more deranged than the patients. Cutshaw challenges Kane to prove the existence of God by showing him one single act of genuine self-sacrifice. Kane accepts the challenge but his mental state is rapidly deteriorating. He reveals to medic Dr Fell (Ed Flanders) that he is haunted by murderous dreams belonging to his brother, the infamous marine 'Killer' Kane. Who or what is psychiatrist Hudson Kane? Will Cutshaw and the other patients be cured?
In a remote Gothic castle in the Northwest of America, the US military attempt to determine whether a group of apparently deranged servicemen and one astronaut, Billy Cutshaw (Scott Wilson), are faking their insanity. When experimental psychiatrist Hudson Kane (Stacey Keach) arrives to take charge, he is subtly persuaded by Cutshaw and fellow inmate Lt. Reno (who is adapting the works of Shakespeare for dogs) to indulge the men's delusions and engage in extravagant roleplay therapy. As Center 18 descends into insanity, it becomes clear to Sargent Groper (Neville Brand) of the hospital staff, that the new psychiatrist may be more deranged than the patients. Cutshaw challenges Kane to prove the existence of God by showing him one single act of genuine self-sacrifice. Kane accepts the challenge but his mental state is rapidly deteriorating. He reveals to medic Dr Fell (Ed Flanders) that he is haunted by murderous dreams belonging to his brother, the infamous marine 'Killer' Kane. Who or what is psychiatrist Hudson Kane? Will Cutshaw and the other patients be cured?
It is very difficult to know where to begin with any sort of analysis of The Ninth Configuration as it’s a movie that straddles multiple genres. Written and directed by William Peter Blatty its Golden Globe-winning script is a reworking of director’s 1966 novel “Twinkle, Twinkle, Killer Kane”. The screenplay expands an quirky literary theological indulgence into a powerful and deeply philosophical melodrama. The film forms the second part of a 'trilogy of faith' which began with The Exorcist and concluded with Legion (filmed as The Exorcist III). This extraordinary theological thriller combines scathing satire with sanguine spirituality in one of the most genuinely bizarre offerings of modern US cinema. There are parallels to Hitchcock's Spellbound (1945) in terms of the narrative but its tone is closer to Samuel Fuller's Shock Corridor (1963) or David Lynch's Twin Peaks Fire Walk with Me. One can also draw parallels with Miloš Forman’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Sadly, The Ninth Configuration still does not enjoy the status of that movie.
The Ninth Configuration alters in tone regularly throughout its narrative arc, exploring philosophy one moment, then dabbling is slapstick humour the next. The film at times comes dangerously close to pretentiousness, yet the story is intelligently brought back to earth with gallows humour and jolting bursts of violence. There are visions of a lunar crucifixion, the claustrophobic realism of a bar-room brawl, therapeutic Nazi roleplay and Moses Gunn dressed as Superman. Blatty directs like a man who has discarded the cinematic conventions rulebook and challenges the limits of mainstream film making. The result is a movie that is not easily quantifiable and thus not immediately accessible to mainstream audiences. Yet it’s a film packed with oddly erudite one liners; "You remind me of Vincent Van Gogh. Either that or a lark in a wheatfield”. The late William Petty Blatty had a flair for comic dialogue. Thus, the ensemble cast are allowed to explore their characters to the full. Stacy Keach playing catatonically straight to Scott Wilson's Marx Brothers madcap persona. Ed Flanders' remains deadpan, while George DiCenzo and Robert Loggia chew the scenery. Jason Miller and Joe Spinell indulge in Abbott and Costello style banter as they stage Shakespeare in increasingly bizarre ways.
Cinematographer Gerry Fisher prowls around the castle's corridors in suitably gothic fashion. The brooding environment is an interesting juxtaposition to the traditional sterile environment of a military hospital. Barry DeVorzon's provides an eerie score that manages to enhance the unfolding madness. His musical cues are few but expertly deployed. A key scene in the movie is a bar room fight, which shifts the direction of the narrative noticeably. It’s an incredibly authentic piece of fight choreography, using accurate techniques, created by veteran stunt arranger Booby. It’s one of the most credible fights involving someone with a military background, since John Frankenheimer's The Manchurian Candidate. Miraculously, despite the intentionally chaotic manner in which the story unfolds, as it lurches from comedy to tragedy to psychosis, director Blatty manages to produce a film that examines the most fundamental questions of life. Is there a God? Is there a point to it all? Why is there so much suffering in the world? His conclusion is poignant and thought provoking.
The Ninth Configuration has been distributed in numerous formats over the last 37 years, most of which were constructed by Blatty himself. Refined from an assembly print of over three hours, the film was originally issued in the US in two distinct versions. A longer cut first released by Warner in early 1980 and an abridged version retitled Twinkle, Twinkle, Killer Kane from United film Distribution. There have also been additional regional variations that have been cut for content or violence. Unsatisfied with all versions, Blatty finally decided to definitively recut The Ninth Configuration for a New World rerelease in 1985, creating the 1 17-minute, 37-second cut which now stands as his approved runtime. This final cut includes much comic dialogue absent from other versions (Cutshaw and Reno discussing “Spellbound”, Reno and Spinell arguing about casting Hamlet) and adds a haunting pre-credits overture in which Barry DeVorzon's song “San Antone” plays over a montage of images of the castle in the rain. It is this edit that is currently available on DVD and Blu-ray.
The Ninth Configuration is a curious beast and is certainly not for all audiences. It has a measured pace that requires both patience and concentration from the viewer. I would urge anyone who enjoys theological debate, or films that address the human condition to view this enigmatic piece of cinema. Be prepared to indulge the film maker and expect the unexpected. Also be aware that this is an adult film with adult themes. Therefore, the film is rated “15” in the UK and "R" in the US and is not for the casual viewer. For those who approach it in the right fashion it should prove a rewarding and experience and a definite talking point. Hopefully in the years to come, The Ninth Configuration will move beyond its current cult film label and achieve the artist recognition it truly deserves.
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.
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.
Review Scores
Two stories caught my attention recently, regarding the merits of review scores and the current fetish for review aggregation services. The first was about film director and producer Brett Ratner’s dislike for review aggregation site Rotten Tomatoes. He contests that “it’s the destruction of our business” due to the way it condenses nuanced reviews into a simple number. Scores below a certain threshold keep “Middle America” away and thus harm business. The other article was about game critic and pundit, Jim Sterling, who gave The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild a review score of 7 out of 10. Once this was added to Metacritic’s number crunching formula, the game in question dropped from an overall score of 98 down to 97. Fans did not care for this “outrage” and a DDoS attack followed as well as the usual comment based flame war.
Two stories caught my attention recently, regarding the merits of review scores and the current fetish for review aggregation services. The first was about film director and producer Brett Ratner’s dislike for review aggregation site Rotten Tomatoes. He contests that “it’s the destruction of our business” due to the way it condenses nuanced reviews into a simple number. Scores below a certain threshold keep “Middle America” away and thus harm business. The other article was about game critic and pundit, Jim Sterling, who gave The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild a review score of 7 out of 10. Once this was added to Metacritic’s number crunching formula, the game in question dropped from an overall score of 98 down to 97. Fans did not care for this “outrage” and a DDoS attack followed as well as the usual comment based flame war.
Both these events got me thinking about difference between long form, detailed criticism and analysis versus the perceived convenience of simple review scores. For me I initially became aware of the difference during the eighties, when reading movie reviews. On one hand, you had old school critics such as Derek Malcolm writing lengthy critiques in the broadsheet newspapers and on the other tabloids that adopted the Siskel and Ebert approach of “two thumbs up”. The former approach to criticism allows for detailed analysis and eschews binary breakdowns. A movie (or a game) is more than just good or bad. The latter style of review, offers readers a simple and quick opinion and thus an opportunity to make a similar choice. Both methodologies have their merits but it would seem that contemporary culture is leaning more towards the review score. It fits the current “spirit”of our digital age.
Personally, I’ve always preferred an in-depth written post that clearly critiques a games merits and flaws. I favour the same approach to movie reviews, as I think that such artistic endeavours cannot adequately be distilled into a numerical breakdown. However, I fully recognise how the review score system has gained traction due to its accessibility and immediacy. Convenience is the buzz word of modern life. Reading an in-depth review takes time and thought. Both are finite commodities these days. Plus, the review score has become an important marketing tool and something that with regard to games, does have an impact upon sales. Sadly, it’s a system that can also be manipulated by the publishers themselves. It is this aspect that tarnishes the review score system and brings score aggregation services into disrepute.
There have been numerous cases in recent years of bogus reviews being used to skew opinion on sites such as Amazon, Trivago and Trip Advisor. You Tube has also become a battle ground of late, with game developers using bogus copyright infringement and other spurious claims to try and take down reviews and criticism that can potentially harm sales. The need to own and control all information regarding a product, has become a common place business aspiration in certain circles. Fans also contribute to this problem, seeing low reviews scores as personal attacks rather than measured criticism. But when you reduce something that is complex to the binary, there is bound to be fallout and dissent. Our societies move away from academia to the fallacy of “all opinions are of equal merit” is also a factor.
Review scores ultimately have an impact upon the way products are made. Movies and games are effectively being conceived and created to meet the criteria of the review score systems, rather than to innovate and push boundaries. Mainstream artistic endeavour has always been tempered with the practicalities of commercial interest but we now seem to be entering an age when new products are genuinely hampered by the need to meet ever increasing marketing requirements. Sooner or later there will be a backlash against the inflexibility of the review score system and potentially a crash within the gaming market. In the meantime, I would encourage all to offset the scores from Metacritic and Rotten Tomatoes with lengthier reviews, be they written or video based. Although time is at a premium these days, the old maxim about knowledge being power, still holds true. Therefore it is always to the consumers advantage to know as much about a product as they can.
Robot & Frank (2012)
The dramatic success of Robot & Frank hinges the credibility of the two main protagonists. Frank Langella effortlessly plays a retired jewel thief Frank Weld who’s starting to have problems with his memory. His son Hunter (James Marsden) takes the only logical course of action and buys him a robot home help. The movie is set in the “near future” and so the idea of a deferring care of the elderly to machines seems worryingly credible. Plus, in this case, there is not a huge amount of love between father and son. Or so it first appears. There's more going on with this movie than first meets the eye. The plot is smarter than it first appears and makes some interesting social commentary.
The dramatic success of Robot & Frank hinges the credibility of the two main protagonists. Frank Langella effortlessly plays a retired jewel thief Frank Weld who’s starting to have problems with his memory. His son Hunter (James Marsden) takes the only logical course of action and buys him a robot home help. The movie is set in the “near future” and so the idea of a deferring care of the elderly to machines seems worryingly credible. Plus, in this case, there is not a huge amount of love between father and son. Or so it first appears. There's more going on with this movie than first meets the eye. The plot is smarter than it first appears and makes some interesting social commentary.
As for “Robot”, voiced by Peter Sarsgaard, the production designers succeed in making him convincing and credible. It would have been a fatal faux pas to employ an excess of CGI and produce a robot similar to Sonny in I, Robot. Less is clearly more in this case. Just think of Honda's Asimo and you’ll get why “Robot” works. Dancer Rachael Ma provides a wonderfully understated performance in the suit. Peter Sarsgaard soft spoken voice offers more than a nod and a wink to Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey. Remember that this is the technology of the near future so it needs to be plausible to a contemporary audience.
As Frank gradually comes to terms with his new house mate, he manages to convince the machine to assist him in his criminal endeavours. “Robot” is specifically programmed to help establish a routine and projects for the benefit of stabilising Frank's cognitive abilities, so he agree to assist, as it serves a greater good. It is at this point that Robot & Frank could have taken the route of a more mainstream comedy, yet it proceeds in a very different direction. The narrative focuses on how returning to crime and more importantly exploring his relationship with “Robot” helps Frank's condition. “Robot” is in some ways a surrogate son, affording Frank a second chance to regain the lost opportunities he missed with Hunter while he was in prison.
The movie also touches on several other social issues. It explores autumn romances with the introduction of Librarian Jennifer (Susan Sarandon) and how youth is often so enamored with itself and the cult of "finding" oneself, via his daughter Madison (Liv Tyler). Perhaps some of these aspects could have been explored further, yet it would be wrong to be too critical of Christopher D. Ford's screenplay because there is still so much to praise. What Robot & Frank doesn't do is fall into the cliché of the machine with a soul. Robot points out himself that he is not alive and that much of what people feel towards him is simply anthropomorphic. Something he is programmed to exploit.
First-time director Jake Schreier, working with a low budget and the usual constraints facing an independent picture, manages to pull most aspects of Robot & Frank off successfully. He certainly does not make the mistake of applying too much sentimentality, or pursuing a broad comic tone. I can fully understand how this movie was a crowd pleaser at the 2011 Sundance festival. Robot & Frank wears its indie movie pedigree on its sleeve with its character driven, slice of life. The soundtrack by Francis and the Lights is also of note and deserves a mention. It is reassuring to know that movies such as this can still be made and that for some directors and production companies, narrative is still king and the key to good film making.
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.
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.
Classic Movie Themes: Starcrash
Starcrash is a shameless Italian Star Wars knock off from 1979. The movie is regarded by some critics as a campy B film with cheap special effects that falls into the “so bad its good” category. Directed by exploitation cinema veteran Luigi Cozzi, Starcrash stars ex-Bond girl Caroline Munro (The Spy Who Loved Me) as Stella Star. She spends most of the film wearing very little as she cavorts around the galaxy with her trusty sidekick, Akton (Marjoe Gortner). The plot is derivative even by genre standards and boasts some staggering inane dialogue. For example, "You know, my son, I wouldn't be Emperor of the Galaxy if I didn't have a few powers at my disposal. Imperial Battleship, halt the flow of time!" and then there’s "Look, Amazon women on horseback. I hope they're friendly".
Starcrash is a shameless Italian Star Wars knock off from 1979. The movie is regarded by some critics as a campy B film with cheap special effects that falls into the “so bad its good” category. Directed by exploitation cinema veteran Luigi Cozzi, Starcrash stars ex-Bond girl Caroline Munro (The Spy Who Loved Me) as Stella Star. She spends most of the film wearing very little as she cavorts around the galaxy with her trusty sidekick, Akton (Marjoe Gortner). The plot is derivative even by genre standards and boasts some staggering inane dialogue. For example, "You know, my son, I wouldn't be Emperor of the Galaxy if I didn't have a few powers at my disposal. Imperial Battleship, halt the flow of time!" and then there’s "Look, Amazon women on horseback. I hope they're friendly".
However, despite poor miniature effects and cheap stop motion monsters, Starcrash has a curious cast of quality character actors. Christopher Plummer and Joe Spinell both allegedly accepted their respective roles simply to get a free holiday in Rome. Starcrash also features a top-notch soundtrack by the legendary John Barry. The score certainly has a Bond vibe, sharing more than a little in common with Moonraker which was composed shortly afterwards. The main theme is suitably grandiose and as it develops picks up a subtle disco beat reflecting the times. Overall, it’s a far better soundtrack than the film deserves and is its only truly redeeming quality. Michael Giacchino’s main theme for Rogue One has an interesting passing similarity to Barry’s work on Starcrash, although I consider this more to be a homage than plagiarism.
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.
Ronald Erle Grainer (11 August 1922 – 21 February 1981) was a prolific Australian composer who is best remembered for his work in the United Kingdom during the sixties and seventies. He wrote numerous notable scores and theme music for several iconic television shows such as Doctor Who, Steptoe and Son and Tales of the Unexpected. He also composed the soundtrack for several major motion pictures such as Some People (1962), The Assassination Bureau (1969) and The Omega Man (1971). Grainer relocated to London from Australia in 1952 but it was not until 1960 that he gained critical success after writing the music for the popular TV show Maigret. He subsequently received an Ivor Novello award for “Outstanding Composition for Film, TV or Radio”.
The following is about a cultural change. That is not to say that it’s a value judgement or one of those posts you so frequently read by bloggers of a certain age, that essentially boil down to “things were better in my day”. It is merely an observation and like all observations it is not 100% universal. There will always be exceptions to the rule. I am simply painting with broad strokes a general truism for your consideration. My point being that people listen, experience and enjoy music differently these days compared to how they did three to four decades ago. I’m not talking about the science of hearing or anything complex like that. I am merely highlighting the change in the way we choose to experience music and how that has an impact upon its creation and presentation. So like Anne Elk, presenting her theory on the Brontosaurus, here is the axiom at the heart of this post.
Allonsanfàn (1974) is an Italian historical drama film written and directed by Paolo and Vittorio Taviani. The title of the film derives from the first words of the French Revolutionary anthem La Marseillaise (Allons enfants, IE “Arise, children”). It is also the name of a character in the story. Set against the backdrop of the Italian Unification in early 19th-century Italy, Marcello Mastroianni stars as an ageing revolutionary, Fulvio Imbriani, who becomes disillusioned after the Restoration and endeavours to betray his companions, who are organising an insurrection in Southern Italy. Allonsanfàn is a complex film that is not immediately accessible to those unfamiliar with the intricacies of Italian political history nor the arthouse style of the Taviani brothers. However, it is visually arresting and features a rousing score by Ennio Morricone.
Jerry Goldsmith’s contribution to Star Trek is immense. Yet simply listing the films and TV episodes he wrote music for does not adequately encapsulate the significance of his contribution to the franchise. His majestic, thoughtful and uplifting musical scores provide an emotional foundation that reflects the core ethos of Star Trek. They also create an invaluable sense of continuity that spans multiple shows and movies. Perhaps the most obvious example of this is his iconic title music for Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979) that was subsequently adopted as the theme tune for Star Trek: The Next Generation. His work was held in such high regard, when Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (1989) ran into production issues, it was thought that a Jerry Goldsmith soundtrack may well elevate the film. Sadly it didn’t but his work on that instalment was outstanding and among his best.
Halloween (1978) is both a genre and cinematic milestone. It made stars of Jamie Lee Curtis and director John Carpenter as well as kickstarting the slasher genre that dominated the box office for the next 15 years. Unlike many of the inferior imitations that followed in its wake, Halloween is not a gorefest but a far more suspenseful and unsettling film. It’s shocks and sinister atmosphere are the result of sumptuous panavision cinematography by Dean Cundey and inventive editing by Tommy Wallace and Charles Bornstein. Another invaluable asset to the film’s effectiveness is John Carpenter minimalistic synth and piano score which perfectly embellishes the film with an air of menace. After 33 years and various re-arrangements in subsequent sequels, the original Halloween Theme is still as effective today as it was when the film was first released.
Tenebrae (1982) is probably Dario Argento’s most accessible “giallo” for mainstream audiences. Although violent, it is not as narratively complex as Deep Red (1975) or as bat shit crazy as Phenomena (1985). The story centres on popular American novelist Peter Neal (Anthony Fanciosa) who is in Rome to promote his latest book. Events take a turn for the worst when a series of murders appear to have been inspired by his work. The plot twists and turns, the director explores themes such as dualism along with sexual aberration and blood is copiously spattered across the white walled interiors of modernist buildings. It is slick, disturbing and has a pounding synth and rock score by former Goblin members, Claudio Simonetti, Fabio Pignatelli, and Massimo Morante.
An American Werewolf in London is a genre milestone and one of the few horror films that successfully manages to balance humour and suspense without mitigating the overall tone of the story. 40 years on from its theatrical release it still holds up well with its bitter sweet love story, tragic themes and ground breaking transformation effects by Rick Baker. Director John Landis never really bettered this concise and effective genre outing. It hits the mark in virtually every part of the production. However, there is one aspect of the film that does suffer as a result of the director’s personal choices. Whether it is to the detriment of the overall film is debatable. The point in question is the film’s soundtrack and the director’s focus upon the song Blue Moon by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart.
Before we start, no I am not writing about Alexander Courage’s classic main theme for the original Star Trek show. I can add nothing further to that particular discussion and it remains iconic and inspiring, even when distilled down to just the initial fanfare. In this post I want to draw your attention to another piece of music from Star Trek that has permeated its way into popular culture. A cue that when heard, if the listener is familiar with its provenance, will instantly conjure up images of flying drop kicks, ear claps and judo chops. A piece of music that can be added to pretty much any video footage and instantly make it more heroic. Yes, I am talking about what has become generically known as Star Trek “fight music”. Or more specifically, the "The Ancient Battle/2nd Kroykah" cue from Amok Time (S02E01) composed by Gerald Fried. The scene during the koon-ut-kal-if-fee ritual in which Spock fights Kirk on the planet Vulcan for complicated “reasons”.
Classical music has often been used to great effect in cinema since the advent of sound. It has certain advantages over bespoke compositions, in that it can imbue a scene with a sense of gravitas and emotionally connect with viewers who may already be familiar with the piece being played. Legendary director Stanley Kubrick famously rejected Alex North’s score for 2001: A space Odyssey after finding the classical tracks he used for the temporary soundtrack complement the visuals perfectly. Over the years, some particular pieces of classical music have proven to be very popular and flexible, thus appearing in a wide variety of films across multiple genres. Hence, I have chosen two well known tracks that demonstrate this. I would also like to highlight contemporary classical music and have also selected one example that I feel demonstrates how the genre sublimely compliments cinema.
If you mention The Pink Panther (1963) I’d hazard a guess that most people will instantly think of Inspector Clouseau (and possibly throw in a quote in faux French about “Minkeys”) or hum or whistle the iconic theme tune. It’s blend of cool sixties Jazz and Lounge is both classy and evocative. Henry Mancini’s contribution to the Pink Panther franchise is commensurate to that of Peter Sellers and Blake Edwards. If you removed his musical scores from any of the films they would be greatly diminished. In fact one can argue that the movies made in the eighties after Sellers’ death are greatly bolstered by Mancini’s intelligent and accomplished musical accompaniment. The franchise may have run out of steam but Mancini never did so.
Back in August 2018, I posted seven of my favourite tracks from various video games that I’ve played over the years. I thought recently that it was high time that I did the same again. So here are a further five musical cues that I especially enjoy. All of which contribute greatly to the respective games that they feature in. Unlike film composers, musicians that write for video games do not always enjoy comparable exposure or attention. Yet often they have a more complex remit, having to write material for dozens of hours of content, rather than just two or three. Furthermore, the complete soundtrack to many video games often remain conspicuously absent, with fans having to data mine the game client to find the tracks that they love. Which is why it is important for those that enjoy video game music to show their support. Perhaps then more publishers will release full and comprehensive game soundtracks for digital download.
It was Friday the 13th yesterday, so I thought it was about time that I added Harry Manfredini’s iconic score to the annals of Classic Movie Themes. The 1980 slasher movie Friday the 13th has become as legendary in the pantheon of cinematic horror history as John Carpenter’s Halloween. Although there are marked differences between these two films, both use minimalist musical scores extremely effectively to punctuate the proceedings and embellish the overall atmosphere. However, Manfedini did not want to provide viewers with obvious audio cues during scenes of building tension. He preferred to focus his score upon the activities of the franchise's iconic killer, Jason Voorhees, and hence have strong musical cues when he was on screen. This approach meant that he had to use a unique musical motif to denote potential tension, without diminishing its effect on the audience by excessive use of obvious and melodramatic cues.
Game of Death was Bruce Lee’s fourth Hong Kong martial arts movie. Due to the success of his previous films he found himself in a position where he could finally write and direct a project himself. Filmed in late 1972 and early 1973, the film was put on hold midway through production when Hollywood offered him a starring role in Enter the Dragon. He died shortly after completing the US backed movie that made him an international star, so Game of Death remained unfinished. Several years later the rights to the raw footage were sold and recycled for a new movie, that kept the name but bore little resemblance to Lee’s original vision. For most of Game of Death, Kim Tai-jong and Yuen Biao double for Bruce Lee and it is only in the final act that audiences actually get to see about 12 minutes of material that he shot himself. The 1978 release of Game of Death, directed by Robert Clouse, is a mess but remains a cinematic curiosity. The scenes which genuinely feature Bruce Lee are outstanding, even in an abridged form.
The Long Good Friday not only launched then career of Bob Hoskins but remains a uniquely British take on the gangster genre. Featuring authentic performances and a credible plot, the screenplay touches upon many of the social and political issues of the time; police corruption, the IRA, urban renewal and the decline of industry, along with EEC membership and the free-market economy. It’s a gritty and unrelenting drama that is still relevant today. Furthermore, the film is filled with quotable dialogue and has several stand out scenes that showcase Bob Hoskins’ smouldering performance. It’s also offers of “who’s who” of British character actors and there is one sequence still has the power to shock even today.
A few years ago, I wrote a post about cult movie soundtracks and how many of these movies are often blessed with a high quality score from an established composer. The subject came up again recently when I was visiting the British Film Institute with friends, and several other examples were discussed. Hence, I thought it would be prudent to write a follow up post with another selection of material, as it continues to amaze me how often the most appalling films can still have outstanding soundtracks. With this idea in mind I've collated five films that are for various reasons are labelled “cult” and have suffered the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune” over the years. All have scores of interests and note, though for different reasons. I have chosen a track from each soundtrack which I think highlights the musical excellence and integrity of the composers involved. The genres are varied as are the musical styles and nuances of each piece. All clearly demonstrate how a well-conceived score can embellish and enhance a movie, effectively becoming a character in its own right.
Lords of the Fallen is an action role-playing game from 2014, played from a third-person perspective. It is broadly in the same idiom to Darksiders and Dark Souls with the emphasis on complex and challenging combat. And it is for that reason that I didn’t get on with this title when I bought it in a Steam sale a few years ago. I felt that the long, protracted fights were an impediment to the narrative, which I quite enjoyed. However, the game was designed this way to appeal to the combat focused gamer and “git gud” culture. But I think that it’s important to try different genres of games from time to time and to step occasionally out of your comfort zone. I would cite the Hand of Fate series as a positive example of this. Both of those titles are from a genre I wouldn’t usually consider and playing them turned out to be a very positive experience
Alien is a unique genre milestone. It challenged the established aesthetic created by 2001: A Space Odyssey of space travel being pristine, clinical and high tech and replaced it with a grimy, industrial quality. The space tug Nostromo is also a conspicuously “blue collar”, civilian venture, underwritten by a large corporation. As for H. R Giger’s xenomorph, it redefined the depiction of extraterrestrial life in movies. Director Ridley Scott brought visual style and atmosphere to particularly unglamorous and dismal setting. He also scared the hell out of audiences at the time with his slow burn story structure and editing style that hints, rather than shows. Overall, Alien is a text book example of how to make a horror movie and put a new spin on a classic and well-trodden concept.
James Horner was a prolific, yet consistently good composer with a broad range of styles. Consider his score for 48 Hrs with its Jazz under currents and then compare it to his grand swashbuckling approach to Krull. They are radically different soundtracks, but both are extremely effective in embellishing their respective motion pictures. That was James Horner great talent. He knew when to be theatrical and bombastic but could also dial it back and be subtle, gentle and delicate. It made his body of work very diverse and memorable.
James Horner, although possessing a very broad and eclectic musical range, was in many respects a very traditional composer. He was certainly au fait with works of such giants as Miklós Rózsa, Korngold and Bernard Herrmann and it often manifested itself in his music through his use of the leitmotif. Perhaps the reason James Horner was so consistently good and crafted so many outstanding pieces of music, is because he never saw his profession as just a means to an end. As he said in an interview once, “I don’t look at this as just a job. I see music as art”.
Star Trek: Enterprise was the first show in the Star Trek pantheon to have a song performed by an established artist play over the opening credits, rather than a traditional theme tune. Up until 2001, the franchise had maintained a more formal approach, established with the iconic introduction to the original series composed by Alexander Courage. Needless to say, such a radical departure from established practise brought about consternation and debate among fans. In some respects, you can argue that point about the entire show itself, but that as they say, is an entirely different blog post. Needless to say, the dislike and hatred that the song Where My Heart Will Take Me engendered in certain quarters, lead to a petition to have it removed. Needless to say, this movement failed, and the show continued using it for four seasons. Seventeen years on this particular debacle has now died down and the song is often just referenced ironically by fans as an amusing anecdote and piece of Trek trivia.
According to Wikipedia “Hawk the Slayer is a 1980 British sword and sorcery adventure film directed by Terry Marcel and starring John Terry and Jack Palance. The film has developed a cult following”. That doesn’t do the movie justice by any reckoning. Hawk the Slayer is a quirky, low budget, high camp fantasy movie that compensates for its budgetary shortcoming by being so preposterously silly. It is loaded with hard boiled, fantasy steeped dialogue that parodies well known genre tropes. It treads a fine line between utter bilge and stupid fun. It is very much a product of its time and is also filled with British character actors. Some viewers will see nothing more than a cheap and cheerful cash-in on the eighties Sword and Sorcery boom. Others will delight at this inventive, stylised and silly fantasy orientated outing. Such is the nature of cult movies.
Film producer Julian Blaustein had a long-standing desire to make a film that addressed the fears and concerns of the post war Atomic Age. With the backing from Fox Studio Executive Darryl F. Zanuck, he hired screenwriter Edmund North to adapt the short story Farewell to the Master by Harry Bates. The screenplay provided a moral commentary about the ongoing arms race and featured an alien visitor with Christ like qualities who delivers an apocalyptic message. Veteran director Robert Wise was brought in head the project and a fine cast of established characters actors such as Michael Rennie, Patricia Neal Hugh Marlowe and Sam Jaffe was assembled. The finished movie has proven to be one of the greatest science fiction movies ever; it is The Day the Earth Stood Still made in 1951.
King Solomon’s Mines is a 1985 Cannon Films production based on the pulp works of H. Rider Haggard. It was quickly made to cash in on the ongoing success of Indiana Jones franchise, although the finished movie bears little resemblance to the classic original novel. Like most Cannon movies from that boom era, it was a cheap and fast enterprise that superficially sported a good cast, but ultimately didn’t do much with them. Veteran director J. Lee Thompson favoured a light and comic approach to the material, as the film’s budget could hardly sustain any major notable set pieces. Yet, it proved popular enough at the box office to warrant a sequel the following year. Allan Quatermain and the Lost City of Gold proved to be as equally silly but by then the public’s interest had waned.
A ten months ago, I wrote about the LOTRO soundtrack and listed some of my favourite tracks. This time round rather than just limit myself to music from one game, I thought it may be more interesting to broaden the remit. So, I have decided to upload seven of my favourite tracks and music cues from various games I have played over the last two decades. As with cinema, the soundtrack of a game plays a very important role. It can make a substantial impact on the players perceptions and enjoyment. The following tracks are examples that I feel have greatly enhanced a game. They’re also ones that I find particularly enjoyable. They are not in any order of preference.
Bullitt (1968)
In a recent blog post I wrote about the difficulty that you can encounter sometimes when trying to watch movies that have been deemed “classic” by popular consensus. I listed 10 films of note that I intend to watch this year and to see if my views aligned with the various institutions and critics that praise them. The first on that list was the iconic sixties thriller Bullitt starring Steve McQueen. Having now watched the movie, I thought it would be prudent to collate my thoughts on it. Considering the immense amount of material that has already been written about it, I see no reason to present a review per se. Rather, here are my initial impressions for consideration. I’ve tried to highlight some specific aspects of the film that I think are of note or merit debate.
In a recent blog post I wrote about the difficulty that you can encounter sometimes when trying to watch movies that have been deemed “classic” by popular consensus. I listed 10 films of note that I intend to watch this year and to see if my views aligned with the various institutions and critics that praise them. The first on that list was the iconic sixties thriller Bullitt starring Steve McQueen. Having now watched the movie, I thought it would be prudent to collate my thoughts on it. Considering the immense amount of material that has already been written about it, I see no reason to present a review per se. Rather, here are my initial impressions for consideration. I’ve tried to highlight some specific aspects of the film that I think are of note or merit debate.
The cinematography in Bullitt is noticeably stylish and beyond the functional. William A. Fraker uses a lot of low camera angles, fluid camera movements and even embraces a Gonzo style for crowd scenes. The way bystanders congregate around crime scenes is depicted quite differently from other movies of the time. It is shown as rather unpleasant and insensitive act, often reflected in the snatches of dialogue that are heard. The famous car chase sequence is edited in similar fashion that places the viewer very much in the middle of the action. Rather than just rely on single shots from locked off cameras, the set piece is covered from multiple angles and frequently from the perspective of the vehicles themselves. It also conveys the fact that high speed pursuits are not just about performance vehicles but require skill from the drivers.
Then there is the matter of violence and the way in which it is depicted in the movie. Hollywood was shifting its stance on this weighty issue during the late sixties. As a result, there is a rather clinical shooting involving a shotgun. During the climatic shootout in the airport departure lounge there is an interesting concession to human collateral damage, when a security guard is gunned down in a very casual manner. We later see him getting the last rites from a passing priest, thus showing that death is seldom quick in such situations. Another interesting aspect is the depiction of two hired contract killers. They are not shown as sneering stereotypical gangsters but more as ageing business men. Furthermore, there is no snappy banter between them. Instead we are left with a measured silence and a few meaningful looks.
Something else that stands out about Bullitt is the accurate depiction of police investigation techniques of the time. There are no desktop computers and a lot of work is completed by copious note taking and attention to detail. We see evidence being meticulously being sorted through to see if it will yield any detail. The telephotography machine that prints suspects photos via the phone and a dot matrix printer is paradoxically archaic yet very contemporary. Then off course there’s the plot device of politics impinging upon police work. The sixties were a time when the default deference towards various public institutions was beginning to fade. Captains wanting an easy life and not wanting to rock the boat, as well as career driven Senators happy to tread on toes to get ahead, were new concepts back then.
Bullitt overall met and exceeded my expectations. The plot was interesting and its themes still relevant. Steve McQueen was effortlessly cool in the title role and the movie seemed to capture the changing mood of the period. The car chase was technically well executed and I can certainly see how the movies entire approach had a knock-on effect upon other thrillers and particularly cop movies. Sadly, Jacqueline Bisset’s character Cathy has precious little to do within the functional role of Frank Bullitt’s love interest. Sexual politics were obviously not on this film’s primary agenda. However, Lalo Schifrin’s superb jazz driven score is still a thing of beauty and reflects the idiom of the decade. Therefore, I appreciate why Bullitt enjoys the status that it currently does. It will be interesting to see if the next movie on my list also makes the grade.
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.
Contemporary viewer’s may be perplexed by a film such as A Man For All Seasons. Why make a two our motion picture about a Tudor lawyer, statesman and scholar and their subsequent moral objection to the reigning monarchs marital status? Yet, during the sixties, it was entirely possible for a mainstream studio to produce a film based upon a stage play that dramatised such specific historical events. Furthermore, a film like this that relied upon strong performances and an intelligent script (and little more) could find a mainstream audience and be both a critical and commercial success. Nowadays, such productions still exist but they are now mainly the province of streaming services. Furthermore, the cinematic format has been replaced by that of a high budget TV show, which explores the topic at hand over an eight to ten hour running time.
Set in Brazil in 1901, plantation owner Christopher Leiningen (Charlton Heston) makes arrangements to get married. He has spent his entire life building his estate and reclaiming land from the jungle. He is fiercely independent but he is also alone and isolated. Joanna Selby (Eleanor Parker) from New Orleans agrees to marry him but their first meeting does not go well. Leiningen is unhappy to discover that Joanna is a widow and hence has a past, so he tells her to return to America on the next available boat. However, local commissioner (William Conrad) informs Leiningen that swarming soldier ants, or Marabunta, are moving towards his plantation destroying everything in their path. Leiningen refuses to abandon his life’s work and is surprised when Joanna decides to stay with him. Can they convince their native workers to stay too and can they defend the estate from the Marabunta, described as “forty square miles of agonising death”.
Millionaire businessman Thomas Crown (Steve McQueen) arranges for four men to steal $2,660,527.62 from a Boston bank. The men, who have never met before or seen Crown, successfully carry out the robbery. A fifth man then transports the stolen money and dumps it in a cemetery trash can. Crown retrieves the money, flies to Geneva and deposits it in a Swiss bank account. Eddy Malone (Paul Burke), the Boston police detective in charge of the case makes no progress until the bank’s insurance company assigns him one of their top investigators, Vicki Anderson (Faye Dunaway). Anderson thinks like a thief and works based upon her instincts. Looking through the evidence, she deduces that Crown is the culprit, potentially committing crimes just for amusement. Anderson subsequently meets Crown socially. Despite the situation and their respective positions, they are immediately attracted to each other and begin a relationship.
Writing a review of Apocalypse Now is a somewhat redundant exercise, unless you have never seen the any of the previous versions of the movie, or your analysis is offering a unique and wholly original perspective. It is one of the most scrutinised, dissected and studied films in the history of cinema. Furthermore, the stories associated with the films tumultuous production have become as equally legendary as the movie itself. There is as much apocrypha associated with Apocalypse Now as there are legitimate anecdotes. In many respects the documentary Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker's Apocalypse, which was shot during the films production, is equally as fascinating as the iconic movie. So with all this in mind, I will simply try to succinctly summarise my thoughts on this third version of Francis Ford Coppola’s magnum opus, which has been officially labelled “Final Cut” by the director.
When I first saw Throne of Blood as a teenager I was ill in bed with a fever. I found the brooding atmosphere and the use of fog, very hypnotic and was never quite sure if this ethereal quality was down to my state of health or the way the film had been crafted. Subsequent viewings have established that the dream like aspect of the film is indeed due to the creative talents of it's great director. Akira Kurosawa remains the best-known Japanese director to Western audiences, while other luminaries, such as Mikio Naruse, Yasujiro Ozu and Kenji Mizoguchi, are known mainly to aficionados and scholars of cinema. Kurosawa’s work maintains a critical consensus, although he was at one point rejected in his native country for being too entrenched in obsolete traditions and themes. On a technical level his film making credentials remain unparalleled and in many ways, Throne of Blood is a text book example of his style and technique.
In a recent blog post I wrote about the difficulty that you can encounter sometimes when trying to watch movies that have been deemed “classic” by popular consensus. I listed 10 films of note that I intend to watch this year and to see if my views aligned with the various institutions and critics that praise them. The first on that list was the iconic sixties thriller Bullitt starring Steve McQueen. Having now watched the movie, I thought it would be prudent to collate my thoughts on it. Considering the immense amount of material that has already been written about it, I see no reason to present a review per se. Rather, here are my initial impressions for consideration. I’ve tried to highlight some specific aspects of the film that I think are of note or merit debate.
Let us take a moment to consider those movie lists you often come across on websites and in magazines. Why? Because there’s a lot of them about. You know the sort, one hundred movies that you must see before you go senile, according to some well-known critic or august institution like the BFI. Or if you prefer something more hip and eclectic then here’s another one collated by British filmmaker Edgar Wright. Furthermore, these lists are often somewhat homogeneous, containing a mixture of bonafide yet ubiquitous classics, a percentage of obscure arty-farty bollocks and a few wild cards that they put in for a laugh. These will be either so-called cult movies or examples from the “it’s so bad, it’s good” school of film making.
"2001: A Space Odyssey. Stanley Kubrick’s philosophically ambitious, technically innovative and visually stunning cinematic milestone". BFI November 2014.
You will often find this sort of language associated with Kubrick's work, especially 2001: A Space Odyssey. It is considered by many to be his finest production and one of the greatest science fiction feature films ever made. In fact 2001: A Space Odyssey has become one of those cinematic sacred cows that regularly features in most film buffs top ten movies of all time. It's a curious thing because a little research will show that critical opinion was split right down the middle on its release in spring 1968. It is only over the course of the last five decades that the movie has grown in artistic stature and garnered the acclaim it now enjoys.
Following the 2012 restored release of The Curse of Frankenstein, Hammer, Icon Film Distribution and Lionsgate jointly produced a Blu-ray restoration of another British classic. This time it was the 1958 version of Dracula directed by Terence Fisher. This is one of Hammer's finest films and not only gets a superb High Definition transfer but also sees the restoration of two lost scenes. Dracula literally re-invented the horror genre and the depiction of vampires in film. It also established the studio as a key player within the industry and made international stars of Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. This new restoration finally does justice to the source material presenting it as it deserves to be seen.
El Dorado opens with a montage of paintings by celebrated Western artists Olaf Weighorst. These beautiful pictures in many ways reflect the nature of the movie, depicting a stylised representation of the Old West that despite its beauty, never really existed. Director Howard Hawks includes every possible genre trope and meme into El Dorado but far from being a handicap, it makes the movie a perfect distillation of Hollywood Western. The pairing of John Wayne and Robert Mitchum is sublime as the two effortlessly riff off each other. If you need an example of how the Western is the most flexible and accessible movie genre, then El Dorado is a text book example.
Mirrors (2008)
Mirrors is a remake of Korean horror film Geoul Sokeuro. However, I am not familiar with the original movie, so I cannot compare the two. There is a popular consensus among horror fans that most US remakes of Asiatic genre movies are frequently inferior to the originals. Atmosphere, tension and the unique cultural ambience are substituted by violence and clumsy shocks. It would appear that upon its release the critics felt that Mirrors was no different. So I watched the film with very low expectations. Furthermore, director Alexandre Aja back catalogue is a somewhat mixed bag with remakes of such titles as The Hills Have Eyes and Piranha.
Mirrors is a remake of Korean horror film Geoul Sokeuro. However, I am not familiar with the original movie, so I cannot compare the two. There is a popular consensus among horror fans that most US remakes of Asiatic genre movies are frequently inferior to the originals. Atmosphere, tension and the unique cultural ambience are substituted by violence and clumsy shocks. It would appear that upon its release the critics felt that Mirrors was no different. So I watched the film with very low expectations. Furthermore, director Alexandre Aja back catalogue is a somewhat mixed bag with remakes of such titles as The Hills Have Eyes and Piranha.
Kiefer Sutherland plays an ex-cop coming to terms with an accidental shooting. He's a recovering alcoholic who's estranged from his wife and family. Taking a job as a night watchman in a derelict department store, he soon discovers that an evil force seems to reside in the mirrors that line the walls. It would appear that he is required to carry out a task for this malevolent entity and failure to do so will place his loved ones in jeopardy.
There is a very intriguing premise at the heart of this film, regarding the cultural fascination and fear of our own reflection. The idea of our own image acting independently to ourselves and even harming us is creepy. It is handled in the initial stages of this film quite well by French director Alexandre Aja. But once the plot explores the reasons behind these events, the explanation becomes a little more formulaic. Towards the end, the story does pick up with the introduction of the concept that all reflective surfaces could be potentially dangerous. This results in some quite creative set pieces.
The cast is adequate and the performances are satisfactory. Sutherland and Paula Patton are an sympathetic couple. Julian Glover makes a small appearance as the ubiquitous old man that expedites the plot. The production design is suitably moody and atmospheric. The CGI effects are not excessive and the prosthetics are exceptionally unpleasant. The film includes a death scene that is particularly grim, involving the victim’s breaking their own bottom jaw. There is also a rather graphic throat cutting at the beginning of the movie.
I was pleasantly surprised with Mirrors, finding it entertaining and somewhat scary. The film has a very European sense of style and pace, with is a "sting in the tail" which is unusual for a mainstream studio picture. It's certainly no master piece but is not exactly the dog’s dinner it's been labelled. The unrated edit of the movie (which is the version I watched) is certainly violent but the director seems to have a penchant for such things. It's a shame in a way because with a little more emphasis on suspense Mirrors could have been a better movie.
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.
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.
The Midnight Meat Train (2008)
Despite being nearly decade old The Midnight Meat Train remains an outstanding genre movie. It’s a horror film that doesn't make the usual mistakes of trying to be hip, excessively self-referential or ironically post-modern. It's shocking, nasty, bleak and brutal, as well as being literate and honest. This is quite paradoxical when you consider it’s made by Lionsgate pictures, a studio that got rich off the back of exploitative, clichéd horror franchises such as Saw and in more recent year’s teen orientated supernatural fodder. The movie also struggled for a while to gain international distribution and it took several years for it to find an audience. It’s a shame because The Midnight Meat Train deserved to have been released with a more fitting fanfare for a film of its calibre.
Despite being nearly decade old The Midnight Meat Train remains an outstanding genre movie. It’s a horror film that doesn't make the usual mistakes of trying to be hip, excessively self-referential or ironically post-modern. It's shocking, nasty, bleak and brutal, as well as being literate and honest. This is quite paradoxical when you consider it’s made by Lionsgate pictures, a studio that got rich off the back of exploitative, clichéd horror franchises such as Saw and in more recent year’s teen orientated supernatural fodder. The movie also struggled for a while to gain international distribution and it took several years for it to find an audience. It’s a shame because The Midnight Meat Train deserved to have been released with a more fitting fanfare for a film of its calibre.
Directed by Japanese auteur, Ryuhei Kitamura, The Midnight Meat Train is an adaptation of a Clive Barker short story from his infamous Books of Blood. The film follows a photographer who attempts to track down a serial killer dubbed the "Subway Butcher". He discovers more than he bargained for when his search takes him under the city streets. The movie intelligently explores the nature and consequences of obsession as well as the contemporary media’s inherent addiction to voyeurism. The Midnight Meat Train boasts a robust featuring Bradley Cooper, Leslie Bibb, Vinnie Jones and Brooke Shields. The script, adapted by Jeff Buhler, is surprisingly smart and thought provoking, avoiding a lot of usual genre clichés. Considering this was the directors first US based English dialogue film, it is a very strong movie.
The Midnight Meat Train has numerous points to commend. The production design and the lighting are first class. The modern subway network depicted in the film is ideal and reflects the cold, stark, metallic environment of the abattoir that the serial killer hails from. I've often had mixed feeling about Vinnie Jones, an "actor", yet he excels here as the neat, precise, suit wearing "Subway Butcher". Despite having only one line of dialogue he emotes very well and gives a convincing and substantial performance. The rest of the cast also fare well as their characters transcend the traditional two dimensional facsimiles that inhabit horror movies. Bradley Cooper and Leslie Bibb play flawed individuals who at times are unlikeable, yet they still invoke sympathy as they face their fate. The film’s final twenty minutes really does have the viewer hoping for a positive conclusion, however unrealistic that is.
With a film of this nature you can expect a degree of violence and moments of shock. The Midnight Meat Train certainly doesn’t pull its punches. Victims are dispatched via a meat tenderiser and then strung up and butchered. Yet these scenes, although brutal, are never gloating. They reflect the movies underlying themes of media sensationalism and voyeurism. However, the film does rely heavily on CGI FX work and some of it sadly does not work very well visually. Ted Raimi makes a cameo appearance and dies in a graphic but patently fake fashion. Overall this doesn't spoil the film as there is still some fine physical effects and the films climax manages to pack a heavy emotional punch.
Adapting the literary works or Clive Barker has always been challenging for film makers and the results have often been hit or miss. Candyman, Hellraiser and Lord of Illusion have been successful examples, although it should be noted that two of these were directed by Barker himself. Sadly, there are others that have been way off the mark, with Rawhead Rex being the nadir. The Midnight Meat Train manages to take the best elements from the source text and expands upon them. It’s a smart, atmospheric well-paced horror movie with few concessions to the casual viewer. It delivers all that you’d expect from a quality director, being both shocking and intriguing. Unfortunately, despite critical acclaim The Midnight Meat Train did not find the commercial success it could have and failed to start a renaissance in the genre. Thus, ten years on R rated horror remains a relatively rare beast.
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.
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.
Classic Movie Themes: Assault on Precinct 13
Assault on Precinct 13 was John Carpenter's second feature film. The movies score was composed and recorded by Carpenter himself on a synthesizer over a period of three days. It features a minimalist style comprising of just four distinct music cues, which are used sparingly throughout the movie. The pulsating beats and elongated eerie notes combine with a mournful main melody. This lean, pared back approach suits the narrative perfectly and reflects the tonal trend of cinema at the time. There are hints of Morricone (who Carpenter later worked with on The Thing) and Lalo Schifrin in the soundtrack.
Assault on Precinct 13 was John Carpenter's second feature film. The movies score was composed and recorded by Carpenter himself on a synthesizer over a period of three days. It features a minimalist style comprising of just four distinct music cues, which are used sparingly throughout the movie. The pulsating beats and elongated eerie notes combine with a mournful main melody. This lean, pared back approach suits the narrative perfectly and reflects the tonal trend of cinema at the time. There are hints of Morricone (who Carpenter later worked with on The Thing) and Lalo Schifrin in the soundtrack.
It's interesting that Carpenter's subtle and understated compositions were perhaps more influential on minimalist electronic music, rather than on contemporary movie scores. Certainly Carpenter's style became grander and musically more complex as he continued to score his later movies such as Prince of Darkness and later In the Mouth of Madness. Although he may well best known for the Halloween theme, the Assault on Precinct 13 soundtrack provided the original musical blueprint and is in many ways its equal. Film composers working today could learn valuable lessons from its simple eloquence.
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.
Ronald Erle Grainer (11 August 1922 – 21 February 1981) was a prolific Australian composer who is best remembered for his work in the United Kingdom during the sixties and seventies. He wrote numerous notable scores and theme music for several iconic television shows such as Doctor Who, Steptoe and Son and Tales of the Unexpected. He also composed the soundtrack for several major motion pictures such as Some People (1962), The Assassination Bureau (1969) and The Omega Man (1971). Grainer relocated to London from Australia in 1952 but it was not until 1960 that he gained critical success after writing the music for the popular TV show Maigret. He subsequently received an Ivor Novello award for “Outstanding Composition for Film, TV or Radio”.
The following is about a cultural change. That is not to say that it’s a value judgement or one of those posts you so frequently read by bloggers of a certain age, that essentially boil down to “things were better in my day”. It is merely an observation and like all observations it is not 100% universal. There will always be exceptions to the rule. I am simply painting with broad strokes a general truism for your consideration. My point being that people listen, experience and enjoy music differently these days compared to how they did three to four decades ago. I’m not talking about the science of hearing or anything complex like that. I am merely highlighting the change in the way we choose to experience music and how that has an impact upon its creation and presentation. So like Anne Elk, presenting her theory on the Brontosaurus, here is the axiom at the heart of this post.
Allonsanfàn (1974) is an Italian historical drama film written and directed by Paolo and Vittorio Taviani. The title of the film derives from the first words of the French Revolutionary anthem La Marseillaise (Allons enfants, IE “Arise, children”). It is also the name of a character in the story. Set against the backdrop of the Italian Unification in early 19th-century Italy, Marcello Mastroianni stars as an ageing revolutionary, Fulvio Imbriani, who becomes disillusioned after the Restoration and endeavours to betray his companions, who are organising an insurrection in Southern Italy. Allonsanfàn is a complex film that is not immediately accessible to those unfamiliar with the intricacies of Italian political history nor the arthouse style of the Taviani brothers. However, it is visually arresting and features a rousing score by Ennio Morricone.
Jerry Goldsmith’s contribution to Star Trek is immense. Yet simply listing the films and TV episodes he wrote music for does not adequately encapsulate the significance of his contribution to the franchise. His majestic, thoughtful and uplifting musical scores provide an emotional foundation that reflects the core ethos of Star Trek. They also create an invaluable sense of continuity that spans multiple shows and movies. Perhaps the most obvious example of this is his iconic title music for Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979) that was subsequently adopted as the theme tune for Star Trek: The Next Generation. His work was held in such high regard, when Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (1989) ran into production issues, it was thought that a Jerry Goldsmith soundtrack may well elevate the film. Sadly it didn’t but his work on that instalment was outstanding and among his best.
Halloween (1978) is both a genre and cinematic milestone. It made stars of Jamie Lee Curtis and director John Carpenter as well as kickstarting the slasher genre that dominated the box office for the next 15 years. Unlike many of the inferior imitations that followed in its wake, Halloween is not a gorefest but a far more suspenseful and unsettling film. It’s shocks and sinister atmosphere are the result of sumptuous panavision cinematography by Dean Cundey and inventive editing by Tommy Wallace and Charles Bornstein. Another invaluable asset to the film’s effectiveness is John Carpenter minimalistic synth and piano score which perfectly embellishes the film with an air of menace. After 33 years and various re-arrangements in subsequent sequels, the original Halloween Theme is still as effective today as it was when the film was first released.
Tenebrae (1982) is probably Dario Argento’s most accessible “giallo” for mainstream audiences. Although violent, it is not as narratively complex as Deep Red (1975) or as bat shit crazy as Phenomena (1985). The story centres on popular American novelist Peter Neal (Anthony Fanciosa) who is in Rome to promote his latest book. Events take a turn for the worst when a series of murders appear to have been inspired by his work. The plot twists and turns, the director explores themes such as dualism along with sexual aberration and blood is copiously spattered across the white walled interiors of modernist buildings. It is slick, disturbing and has a pounding synth and rock score by former Goblin members, Claudio Simonetti, Fabio Pignatelli, and Massimo Morante.
An American Werewolf in London is a genre milestone and one of the few horror films that successfully manages to balance humour and suspense without mitigating the overall tone of the story. 40 years on from its theatrical release it still holds up well with its bitter sweet love story, tragic themes and ground breaking transformation effects by Rick Baker. Director John Landis never really bettered this concise and effective genre outing. It hits the mark in virtually every part of the production. However, there is one aspect of the film that does suffer as a result of the director’s personal choices. Whether it is to the detriment of the overall film is debatable. The point in question is the film’s soundtrack and the director’s focus upon the song Blue Moon by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart.
Before we start, no I am not writing about Alexander Courage’s classic main theme for the original Star Trek show. I can add nothing further to that particular discussion and it remains iconic and inspiring, even when distilled down to just the initial fanfare. In this post I want to draw your attention to another piece of music from Star Trek that has permeated its way into popular culture. A cue that when heard, if the listener is familiar with its provenance, will instantly conjure up images of flying drop kicks, ear claps and judo chops. A piece of music that can be added to pretty much any video footage and instantly make it more heroic. Yes, I am talking about what has become generically known as Star Trek “fight music”. Or more specifically, the "The Ancient Battle/2nd Kroykah" cue from Amok Time (S02E01) composed by Gerald Fried. The scene during the koon-ut-kal-if-fee ritual in which Spock fights Kirk on the planet Vulcan for complicated “reasons”.
Classical music has often been used to great effect in cinema since the advent of sound. It has certain advantages over bespoke compositions, in that it can imbue a scene with a sense of gravitas and emotionally connect with viewers who may already be familiar with the piece being played. Legendary director Stanley Kubrick famously rejected Alex North’s score for 2001: A space Odyssey after finding the classical tracks he used for the temporary soundtrack complement the visuals perfectly. Over the years, some particular pieces of classical music have proven to be very popular and flexible, thus appearing in a wide variety of films across multiple genres. Hence, I have chosen two well known tracks that demonstrate this. I would also like to highlight contemporary classical music and have also selected one example that I feel demonstrates how the genre sublimely compliments cinema.
If you mention The Pink Panther (1963) I’d hazard a guess that most people will instantly think of Inspector Clouseau (and possibly throw in a quote in faux French about “Minkeys”) or hum or whistle the iconic theme tune. It’s blend of cool sixties Jazz and Lounge is both classy and evocative. Henry Mancini’s contribution to the Pink Panther franchise is commensurate to that of Peter Sellers and Blake Edwards. If you removed his musical scores from any of the films they would be greatly diminished. In fact one can argue that the movies made in the eighties after Sellers’ death are greatly bolstered by Mancini’s intelligent and accomplished musical accompaniment. The franchise may have run out of steam but Mancini never did so.
Back in August 2018, I posted seven of my favourite tracks from various video games that I’ve played over the years. I thought recently that it was high time that I did the same again. So here are a further five musical cues that I especially enjoy. All of which contribute greatly to the respective games that they feature in. Unlike film composers, musicians that write for video games do not always enjoy comparable exposure or attention. Yet often they have a more complex remit, having to write material for dozens of hours of content, rather than just two or three. Furthermore, the complete soundtrack to many video games often remain conspicuously absent, with fans having to data mine the game client to find the tracks that they love. Which is why it is important for those that enjoy video game music to show their support. Perhaps then more publishers will release full and comprehensive game soundtracks for digital download.
It was Friday the 13th yesterday, so I thought it was about time that I added Harry Manfredini’s iconic score to the annals of Classic Movie Themes. The 1980 slasher movie Friday the 13th has become as legendary in the pantheon of cinematic horror history as John Carpenter’s Halloween. Although there are marked differences between these two films, both use minimalist musical scores extremely effectively to punctuate the proceedings and embellish the overall atmosphere. However, Manfedini did not want to provide viewers with obvious audio cues during scenes of building tension. He preferred to focus his score upon the activities of the franchise's iconic killer, Jason Voorhees, and hence have strong musical cues when he was on screen. This approach meant that he had to use a unique musical motif to denote potential tension, without diminishing its effect on the audience by excessive use of obvious and melodramatic cues.
Game of Death was Bruce Lee’s fourth Hong Kong martial arts movie. Due to the success of his previous films he found himself in a position where he could finally write and direct a project himself. Filmed in late 1972 and early 1973, the film was put on hold midway through production when Hollywood offered him a starring role in Enter the Dragon. He died shortly after completing the US backed movie that made him an international star, so Game of Death remained unfinished. Several years later the rights to the raw footage were sold and recycled for a new movie, that kept the name but bore little resemblance to Lee’s original vision. For most of Game of Death, Kim Tai-jong and Yuen Biao double for Bruce Lee and it is only in the final act that audiences actually get to see about 12 minutes of material that he shot himself. The 1978 release of Game of Death, directed by Robert Clouse, is a mess but remains a cinematic curiosity. The scenes which genuinely feature Bruce Lee are outstanding, even in an abridged form.
The Long Good Friday not only launched then career of Bob Hoskins but remains a uniquely British take on the gangster genre. Featuring authentic performances and a credible plot, the screenplay touches upon many of the social and political issues of the time; police corruption, the IRA, urban renewal and the decline of industry, along with EEC membership and the free-market economy. It’s a gritty and unrelenting drama that is still relevant today. Furthermore, the film is filled with quotable dialogue and has several stand out scenes that showcase Bob Hoskins’ smouldering performance. It’s also offers of “who’s who” of British character actors and there is one sequence still has the power to shock even today.
A few years ago, I wrote a post about cult movie soundtracks and how many of these movies are often blessed with a high quality score from an established composer. The subject came up again recently when I was visiting the British Film Institute with friends, and several other examples were discussed. Hence, I thought it would be prudent to write a follow up post with another selection of material, as it continues to amaze me how often the most appalling films can still have outstanding soundtracks. With this idea in mind I've collated five films that are for various reasons are labelled “cult” and have suffered the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune” over the years. All have scores of interests and note, though for different reasons. I have chosen a track from each soundtrack which I think highlights the musical excellence and integrity of the composers involved. The genres are varied as are the musical styles and nuances of each piece. All clearly demonstrate how a well-conceived score can embellish and enhance a movie, effectively becoming a character in its own right.
Lords of the Fallen is an action role-playing game from 2014, played from a third-person perspective. It is broadly in the same idiom to Darksiders and Dark Souls with the emphasis on complex and challenging combat. And it is for that reason that I didn’t get on with this title when I bought it in a Steam sale a few years ago. I felt that the long, protracted fights were an impediment to the narrative, which I quite enjoyed. However, the game was designed this way to appeal to the combat focused gamer and “git gud” culture. But I think that it’s important to try different genres of games from time to time and to step occasionally out of your comfort zone. I would cite the Hand of Fate series as a positive example of this. Both of those titles are from a genre I wouldn’t usually consider and playing them turned out to be a very positive experience
Alien is a unique genre milestone. It challenged the established aesthetic created by 2001: A Space Odyssey of space travel being pristine, clinical and high tech and replaced it with a grimy, industrial quality. The space tug Nostromo is also a conspicuously “blue collar”, civilian venture, underwritten by a large corporation. As for H. R Giger’s xenomorph, it redefined the depiction of extraterrestrial life in movies. Director Ridley Scott brought visual style and atmosphere to particularly unglamorous and dismal setting. He also scared the hell out of audiences at the time with his slow burn story structure and editing style that hints, rather than shows. Overall, Alien is a text book example of how to make a horror movie and put a new spin on a classic and well-trodden concept.
James Horner was a prolific, yet consistently good composer with a broad range of styles. Consider his score for 48 Hrs with its Jazz under currents and then compare it to his grand swashbuckling approach to Krull. They are radically different soundtracks, but both are extremely effective in embellishing their respective motion pictures. That was James Horner great talent. He knew when to be theatrical and bombastic but could also dial it back and be subtle, gentle and delicate. It made his body of work very diverse and memorable.
James Horner, although possessing a very broad and eclectic musical range, was in many respects a very traditional composer. He was certainly au fait with works of such giants as Miklós Rózsa, Korngold and Bernard Herrmann and it often manifested itself in his music through his use of the leitmotif. Perhaps the reason James Horner was so consistently good and crafted so many outstanding pieces of music, is because he never saw his profession as just a means to an end. As he said in an interview once, “I don’t look at this as just a job. I see music as art”.
Star Trek: Enterprise was the first show in the Star Trek pantheon to have a song performed by an established artist play over the opening credits, rather than a traditional theme tune. Up until 2001, the franchise had maintained a more formal approach, established with the iconic introduction to the original series composed by Alexander Courage. Needless to say, such a radical departure from established practise brought about consternation and debate among fans. In some respects, you can argue that point about the entire show itself, but that as they say, is an entirely different blog post. Needless to say, the dislike and hatred that the song Where My Heart Will Take Me engendered in certain quarters, lead to a petition to have it removed. Needless to say, this movement failed, and the show continued using it for four seasons. Seventeen years on this particular debacle has now died down and the song is often just referenced ironically by fans as an amusing anecdote and piece of Trek trivia.
According to Wikipedia “Hawk the Slayer is a 1980 British sword and sorcery adventure film directed by Terry Marcel and starring John Terry and Jack Palance. The film has developed a cult following”. That doesn’t do the movie justice by any reckoning. Hawk the Slayer is a quirky, low budget, high camp fantasy movie that compensates for its budgetary shortcoming by being so preposterously silly. It is loaded with hard boiled, fantasy steeped dialogue that parodies well known genre tropes. It treads a fine line between utter bilge and stupid fun. It is very much a product of its time and is also filled with British character actors. Some viewers will see nothing more than a cheap and cheerful cash-in on the eighties Sword and Sorcery boom. Others will delight at this inventive, stylised and silly fantasy orientated outing. Such is the nature of cult movies.
Film producer Julian Blaustein had a long-standing desire to make a film that addressed the fears and concerns of the post war Atomic Age. With the backing from Fox Studio Executive Darryl F. Zanuck, he hired screenwriter Edmund North to adapt the short story Farewell to the Master by Harry Bates. The screenplay provided a moral commentary about the ongoing arms race and featured an alien visitor with Christ like qualities who delivers an apocalyptic message. Veteran director Robert Wise was brought in head the project and a fine cast of established characters actors such as Michael Rennie, Patricia Neal Hugh Marlowe and Sam Jaffe was assembled. The finished movie has proven to be one of the greatest science fiction movies ever; it is The Day the Earth Stood Still made in 1951.
King Solomon’s Mines is a 1985 Cannon Films production based on the pulp works of H. Rider Haggard. It was quickly made to cash in on the ongoing success of Indiana Jones franchise, although the finished movie bears little resemblance to the classic original novel. Like most Cannon movies from that boom era, it was a cheap and fast enterprise that superficially sported a good cast, but ultimately didn’t do much with them. Veteran director J. Lee Thompson favoured a light and comic approach to the material, as the film’s budget could hardly sustain any major notable set pieces. Yet, it proved popular enough at the box office to warrant a sequel the following year. Allan Quatermain and the Lost City of Gold proved to be as equally silly but by then the public’s interest had waned.
A ten months ago, I wrote about the LOTRO soundtrack and listed some of my favourite tracks. This time round rather than just limit myself to music from one game, I thought it may be more interesting to broaden the remit. So, I have decided to upload seven of my favourite tracks and music cues from various games I have played over the last two decades. As with cinema, the soundtrack of a game plays a very important role. It can make a substantial impact on the players perceptions and enjoyment. The following tracks are examples that I feel have greatly enhanced a game. They’re also ones that I find particularly enjoyable. They are not in any order of preference.
The Stone Killer (1973)
In many respects, Michael Winner's 1973 hard-boiled cop movie, The Stone Killer contains pretty much all the obligatory tropes and memes associated with both the genre and the decade. Hippies, black militants, casual racism and of course disgruntled Vietnam veterans. In the absence of any no computers, Detective Lou Torrey (the ubiquitous Charles Bronson) favoured method of solving crimes is to beat, threaten and shoot everyone who may be a suspect. Obviously remembering to read people their Miranda rights is far too much like hard work. This is how cop movies were in the seventies and the public ate them up.
In many respects, Michael Winner's 1973 hard-boiled cop movie, The Stone Killer contains pretty much all the obligatory tropes and memes associated with both the genre and the decade. Hippies, black militants, casual racism and of course disgruntled Vietnam veterans. In the absence of any no computers, Detective Lou Torrey (the ubiquitous Charles Bronson) favoured method of solving crimes is to beat, threaten and shoot everyone who may be a suspect. Obviously remembering to read people their Miranda rights is far too much like hard work. This is how cop movies were in the seventies and the public ate them up.
The Stone Killers has an unnecessarily complex plot about a group of Sicilian Dons, led by Martin Balsam, hiring a group of ex-soldiers (The Stone Killer of the title) to eliminate the current heads of a national crime syndicate and right a wrong from forty years ago. Mr. Bronson stumbles across the plot and effectively kills everyone until the mystery is solved. He's aided by Ralph Waites who plays a racist redneck cop and rookie patrolman John Ritter. The movie is casually racist, misogynist and shows the seventies for the utterly shit decade that they were aesthetically. As ever the great Michael Winner directs with glee and revels in the seedier aspect of the plot. The movie also benefits from a get-down-funky, Roy Budd score that has a superb psychedelic vibe running through it. There are several well shot car chase which were essential action sequences at the time. It's quite nostalgic to watch the gas guzzling, unaerodynamic cars lumbering through the harsh cityscapes.
The movie also contrast great wealth with great poverty with some excellent shots of inner city decay. There is also some interesting attention to detail with regard to the mercenaries’ military tactics. Having gunned down their targets at the movies climax, the leader goes around all the bodies and shoots them with a pistol to ensure all are dead. The Stone Killer also has a dated penchant for the use of dummies in several high falls; the results are hilarious rather than shocking.
The Stone Killer is an interesting example of the sort of bleak, mainstream action fodder that was prevalent in the movie theatres at the time. As ever Bronson is compelling to watch, despite not playing an especially likeable character. Then again, there are no especially nice ones either. Despite being an action thriller, the viewer still has to think about the plot. Something that seems to have fallen by the wayside in modern equivalent movies. The film ends on a curiously philosophical note, with Bronson alluding to the fact that the bad guys may well have got away with things and be untouchable by the law, but it's only a matter of time before their own community turns on them. The Stone Killer is not up to the standards of Dirty Harry or The Mechanic but it is still a good example of an old-school genre film making.
Acquainting Yourself with Classics Films
Let us take a moment to consider those movie lists you often come across on websites and in magazines. Why? Because there’s a lot of them about. You know the sort, one hundred movies that you must see before you go senile, according to some well-known critic or august institution like the BFI. Or if you prefer something more hip and eclectic then here’s another one collated by British filmmaker Edgar Wright. Furthermore, these lists are often somewhat homogeneous, containing a mixture of bonafide yet ubiquitous classics, a percentage of obscure arty-farty bollocks and a few wild cards that they put in for a laugh. These will be either so-called cult movies or examples from the “it’s so bad, it’s good” school of film making.
Let us take a moment to consider those movie lists you often come across on websites and in magazines. Why? Because there’s a lot of them about. You know the sort, one hundred movies that you must see before you go senile, according to some well-known critic or august institution like the BFI. Or if you prefer something more hip and eclectic then here’s another one collated by British filmmaker Edgar Wright. Furthermore, these lists are often somewhat homogeneous, containing a mixture of bonafide yet ubiquitous classics, a percentage of obscure arty-farty bollocks and a few wild cards that they put in for a laugh. These will be either so-called cult movies or examples from the “it’s so bad, it’s good” school of film making.
Bearing that all-in mind, I thought it would be interesting to see what someone's reaction would be when watching one of these titles for the first time. Classic films such as Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey, Vittorio De Sica's The Bicycle Thieves or Orson Welles' Citizen Kane. All of these examples have established and prodigious reputations as well as a lot of artistic and cultural baggage attached to them. Would a first-time viewer feel obliged to follow herd and add their voice to the prevailing consensus? Or if they did not enjoy the movie and felt it had specific flaws would they have the courage of their convictions to call a spade a spade?
Well to cut a long story short, if you want something done properly, then do it yourself. Therefore, I shall be kicking the process off by watching that classic sixties Bullitt. Yes, I have never seen this alleged defining point in Steve McQueen’s acting career, so I thought it would be a great example to begin with. Bullitt is a movie I’ve only ever seen snatches of. The sort of movie you find while channel surfing and watch a few minutes of before turning over yet again. Each time, I say to myself, I must get around to watching that and then I never do. Oddly enough I do own the Lalo Schifrin soundtrack which is extremely cool in that sixties movie idiom. So, I’ve secured a nice high definition copy of the film and shall endeavour to watch it and review it this week. It will be interesting to see the famous ten-minute car chase within it’s right context and make a measured judgement about it.
Now I make no bones about the fact that I like some specific types of movies more so than others. I would much rather watch a film about a serial killer murdering a bunch of teenagers by sticking a Dyson up their wazoo, than some tedious, worthy human drama about a Bolivian praegustator coming to terms with the death of their next-door neighbour’s budgie, during the Boer War. However, I also feel that it is important to be well versed in all aspects of cinema, if you wish to have an informed opinion on the subject. Therefore, the next couple of months could be very interesting as I work my way through the following films. You can also expect some eclectic reviews. If you have any interesting suggestions, feel free to leave a comment and I’ll see what I can do about adding them to the list.
Bullitt (1968)
Rashômon (1950)
Les Vacances de Monsieur Hulot (1953)
Wake in Fright (1971)
Freaks (1932)
Solaris (1972)
Thief (1981)
Sorcerer (1977)
Metropolis (1927)
M (1931)
Along Came a Spider (2001)
Along Came a Spider, the second Alex Cross story to be adapted in to a feature film, once again takes a very procedural approach to its plot and keeps the action low key. As with Kiss the Girls, this reflects the intellectual nature of the central character, once again played by Morgan Freeman. This is a thriller where the focus is on using deductive reasoning and psychology to solve a crime rather than kicking down doors and breaking heads. The sequel is not quite as dark in tone as its predecessor and is more accessible with its traditional kidnapping plot about a congressman's daughter being abducted by her teacher. Naturally the case is far from black and white and Alex Cross soon discovers more complicated motives.
Along Came a Spider, the second Alex Cross story to be adapted in to a feature film, once again takes a very procedural approach to its plot and keeps the action low key. As with Kiss the Girls, this reflects the intellectual nature of the central character, once again played by Morgan Freeman. This is a thriller where the focus is on using deductive reasoning and psychology to solve a crime rather than kicking down doors and breaking heads. The sequel is not quite as dark in tone as its predecessor and is more accessible with its traditional kidnapping plot about a congressman's daughter being abducted by her teacher. Naturally the case is far from black and white and Alex Cross soon discovers more complicated motives.
The opening set piece in which Detective Cross loses his partner features an appalling CGI car crash, which does somewhat diminish the drama of the scene. However, the plot soon picks up speed with a well-conceived and executed kidnapping. Michael Wincott's performance as the sociopath Mr. Soneji is robust and he works well under the prosthetics he has to wear in the in the movies first act. Mika Boorem performs convincingly as the abductee Megan Rose. I find that child actors can frequently be a little too worldly and slip into precociousness but that is not the case here. The character is both likeable and plausible.
The interaction between Alex Cross and Secret Service agent Jezzie Flanagan is credible and Monica Potter puts in a suitably world weary performance. The plot twist that inevitably arrives in the third act is adequate, being neither too incredible or underwhelming. The script fumbles the ball a few times with its reliance upon media coverage of the kidnapping and the internet as a plot device to advance the story. Movies seldom get technology right and even by the standard of the time, they vastly over play what is achievable using online resources. However, this is usually something that audiences can overlook as it has simply become an accepted cinematic trope.
Along Came a Spider benefits from a Jerry Goldsmith soundtrack which is suitably distinguished. The movie is purposely restrained so it can focus upon the actual detective work. Director Lee Tamahori is usually known for more overt action movies such as Die Another Day and Next, yet adapts to a more minimalist approach on this occasion. The few action scenes that are featured such as the ransom money delivery and initial kidnap itself are well realised. Along Came a Spider may not have the same gritty edge that Kiss the Girls had but in some respects, it is more mainstream movie. Sadly, a third entry was not made in this series and the 2012 reboot, Alex Cross, was a misfire due to its focus on action rather than character.
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.
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.
Kiss the Girls (1997)
I recently re-watched Alex Cross, the 2012 movie based upon author James Patterson's character. My opinion on the movie has not changed and I still consider it to be a cinematic misfire. The main flaw being trying to take a cerebral character away from the procedural nature of their work and retrofit them into a modern action movie. It simply doesn't work and subsequently the film studio failed to reboot the franchise. However, because Cross himself is such an interesting creation, being a former FBI agent and psychologist, I thought I would take a look at the two previous movie adaptations starring Morgan Freeman. The first of which, Kiss the Girls (1997) I review here. The latter, Along Came A Spider (2001) I will write about in a separate post
I recently re-watched Alex Cross, the 2012 movie based upon author James Patterson's character. My opinion on the movie has not changed and I still consider it to be a cinematic misfire. The main flaw being trying to take a cerebral character away from the procedural nature of their work and retrofit them into a modern action movie. It simply doesn't work and subsequently the film studio failed to reboot the franchise. However, because Cross himself is such an interesting creation, being a former FBI agent and psychologist, I thought I would take a look at the two previous movie adaptations starring Morgan Freeman. The first of which, Kiss the Girls (1997) I review here. The latter, Along Came A Spider (2001) I will write about in a separate post.
Kiss the Girls is cut from the same cloth as other cat and mouse style serial killer dramas. Unlike The Silence of the Lambs and Se7en, it is quite low key and avoids the more sensational aspects of the plot. Murders take place off screen and the ubiquitous mortuary scenes are avoided. This works strongly in the films favour allowing the narrative to focus on Dr. Alex Cross (Morgan Freeman), his methods and his nature. Freeman brings a very humane quality to the character and fits the role comfortably. The emphasis in this movie is on his investigation skills and mental processes. He's also a skilled politician and knows how to handle people and when to take risks.
The plot focuses on a serial abductor who is "collecting" beautiful and talented women. When his niece is taken, Cross decides to head down to North Carolina and lend a hand to the local Police. A major break occurs in the case when the latest kidnap victim, intern Doctor Kate McTiernan (Ashley Judd), escapes from captivity. It soon becomes apparent that the kidnapper, known as Casanova, may well be working in conjunction with a similar West Coast predator called the Gentleman Caller. Will the pursuit of either serial killers lead back to where the adducted women are held?
The main strength of Kiss the Girls lies in the dynamic between Cross and McTiernan. There is a strong rapport between the two as they mutually support each other. McTiernan needs Cross so that she can rise above her perceived victim status. Cross needs McTiernan so he can find and save his niece. The movie also explores the practical detective work that is done in solving the case, rather than relying on doors being kicked down and suspects being beaten senseless. It is unfortunate that the one weak link in the film's plot chain is the character of Casanova. Although a satisfactory conclusion is arrived at, it would have been nice to have learned more about his past, his collaboration with the Gentleman Caller and his exact motivations.
Kiss the Girls is an interesting first attempt at bring Alex Cross to the big screen. It handles a very troubling subject with a degree of skill and director Gary Fleder is to be applauded for not lapsing into sensationalism. It is interesting to see that special make-up effects artist Steve Johnson is credited although very little of his work makes it into the final cut of the movie. It is also rewarding to see a different take on the savant detective. Overall the movie is a cut above the average, due to performances, solid script and directorial focus. It is also content to be about detection and solving crimes, rather than crossover needlessly into other genres.
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.
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.
Alex Cross (2012)
The last time we saw F.B.I. profiler Alex Cross on the big screen, he was played by Morgan Freeman in both Kiss the Girls (1997) and Along Came a Spider (2001). The franchise, inspired by novels of author James Patterson, were subsequently rebooted in 2012 with Tyler Perry in the lead role. Alex Cross attempts to establish the origins of the character and explore a pivotal case he investigated while a detective in Detroit. Alex Cross and his partners Tommy Kane (Edward Burns) and Monica Ashe (Rachel Nichols) cross swords with a serial killer they dub Picasso (Matthew fox), who is murdering the business associates of French Industrialist Mercier (Jean Reno). During the course of the investigation it becomes clear that the killer has a specific interest in Cross himself.
The last time we saw F.B.I. profiler Alex Cross on the big screen, he was played by Morgan Freeman in both Kiss the Girls (1997) and Along Came a Spider (2001). The franchise, inspired by novels of author James Patterson, were subsequently rebooted in 2012 with Tyler Perry in the lead role. Alex Cross attempts to establish the origins of the character and explore a pivotal case he investigated while a detective in Detroit. Alex Cross and his partners Tommy Kane (Edward Burns) and Monica Ashe (Rachel Nichols) cross swords with a serial killer they dub Picasso (Matthew fox), who is murdering the business associates of French Industrialist Mercier (Jean Reno). During the course of the investigation it becomes clear that the killer has a specific interest in Cross himself.
Alex Cross is based upon a central protagonist whose primary skills are his mental and analytical abilities. By nature, the character is first and foremost a thinker. Unfortunately, this element is quickly abandoned in the movie which opts for a pure action approach to the material. Suspense and drama are replaced with more obvious visual cues. Matthew Fox despite looking the part has an ill-defined role. The weak script by Marc Moss and Kerry Williamson is content to establish him as an evil character simply by the violent act he commits. Furthermore, Tyler Perry's overtly theatrical performance somewhat smothers the subtleties of Alex Cross.
Director Rob Cohen uses a great deal of visual gimmickry and cranks the pace, editing and volume up to eleven. It is his signature approach that works well with certain types of movies but seem jarringly inappropriate with this material. The same could also be said for Ricardo Della Rosa's under-lit cinematography with its muted colour palette. The movies tone puts it at odds with its PG-13 rating. Alex Cross therefore cannot fully explore its own strong themes and seems more to titillate than shock. The entire movie reeks of contemporary board room film making in the way that the source material has been so obviously misunderstood. Talk about trying to put a square peg in a round hole.
Alex Cross is a stilted endeavour and a missed opportunity. The central roles are miscast and the directing is in the wrong idiom. The movie needs to decide what it exactly wants to be. As it is, it sits awkwardly between a psychological thriller and a generic action movie. Its faults are further compounded by its mean-spirited nature. As a result Alex Cross did not kickstart a lucrative franchise, despite the threat of a sequel. For a closer approximation of the central character revisit the earlier adaptations. They are not without flaw but are better than this.
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.
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.
Classic Movie Themes: Theatre of Blood
Theatre of Blood is a rather unique horror movie about crazed egotistical thespian named Edward Lionheart. Played by the great Vincent Price, this Shakespeare-obsessed actor commits suicide rather publicly, after being allegedly "cheated" out of an award. However when a spate of murders targeting theatre critics occurs, with each victim dispatched in an homage to the Bard, Scotland Yard begins to suspect the actor may have faked his death. This hilariously baroque revenge picture directed by Douglas Hickox, benefits from a great cast of some of Britain's finest character actors. The film also serves as a wonderful window in to the mid-seventies Britain.
Theatre of Blood is a rather unique horror movie about crazed egotistical thespian named Edward Lionheart. Played by the great Vincent Price, this Shakespeare-obsessed actor commits suicide rather publicly, after being allegedly "cheated" out of an award. However when a spate of murders targeting theatre critics occurs, with each victim dispatched in an homage to the Bard, Scotland Yard begins to suspect the actor may have faked his death. This hilariously baroque revenge picture directed by Douglas Hickox, benefits from a great cast of some of Britain's finest character actors. The film also serves as a wonderful window in to the mid-seventies Britain.
The proceeding are greatly enhanced by a fantastic score by Welsh composer Michael J. Lewis. For the Theatre of Blood soundtrack, composer Lewis crafts a sumptuous orchestral score, the main title theme being the most succinct example. From its gentle beginnings it grows in power reflecting the tumultuous disposition of the actor Edward Lionheart. Yet it maintains a melancholic quality that is very apt to the movie. Overall it's a fine example of the composers craft. It is also one of Vincent Price's better movies from this era.
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.
Ronald Erle Grainer (11 August 1922 – 21 February 1981) was a prolific Australian composer who is best remembered for his work in the United Kingdom during the sixties and seventies. He wrote numerous notable scores and theme music for several iconic television shows such as Doctor Who, Steptoe and Son and Tales of the Unexpected. He also composed the soundtrack for several major motion pictures such as Some People (1962), The Assassination Bureau (1969) and The Omega Man (1971). Grainer relocated to London from Australia in 1952 but it was not until 1960 that he gained critical success after writing the music for the popular TV show Maigret. He subsequently received an Ivor Novello award for “Outstanding Composition for Film, TV or Radio”.
The following is about a cultural change. That is not to say that it’s a value judgement or one of those posts you so frequently read by bloggers of a certain age, that essentially boil down to “things were better in my day”. It is merely an observation and like all observations it is not 100% universal. There will always be exceptions to the rule. I am simply painting with broad strokes a general truism for your consideration. My point being that people listen, experience and enjoy music differently these days compared to how they did three to four decades ago. I’m not talking about the science of hearing or anything complex like that. I am merely highlighting the change in the way we choose to experience music and how that has an impact upon its creation and presentation. So like Anne Elk, presenting her theory on the Brontosaurus, here is the axiom at the heart of this post.
Allonsanfàn (1974) is an Italian historical drama film written and directed by Paolo and Vittorio Taviani. The title of the film derives from the first words of the French Revolutionary anthem La Marseillaise (Allons enfants, IE “Arise, children”). It is also the name of a character in the story. Set against the backdrop of the Italian Unification in early 19th-century Italy, Marcello Mastroianni stars as an ageing revolutionary, Fulvio Imbriani, who becomes disillusioned after the Restoration and endeavours to betray his companions, who are organising an insurrection in Southern Italy. Allonsanfàn is a complex film that is not immediately accessible to those unfamiliar with the intricacies of Italian political history nor the arthouse style of the Taviani brothers. However, it is visually arresting and features a rousing score by Ennio Morricone.
Jerry Goldsmith’s contribution to Star Trek is immense. Yet simply listing the films and TV episodes he wrote music for does not adequately encapsulate the significance of his contribution to the franchise. His majestic, thoughtful and uplifting musical scores provide an emotional foundation that reflects the core ethos of Star Trek. They also create an invaluable sense of continuity that spans multiple shows and movies. Perhaps the most obvious example of this is his iconic title music for Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979) that was subsequently adopted as the theme tune for Star Trek: The Next Generation. His work was held in such high regard, when Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (1989) ran into production issues, it was thought that a Jerry Goldsmith soundtrack may well elevate the film. Sadly it didn’t but his work on that instalment was outstanding and among his best.
Halloween (1978) is both a genre and cinematic milestone. It made stars of Jamie Lee Curtis and director John Carpenter as well as kickstarting the slasher genre that dominated the box office for the next 15 years. Unlike many of the inferior imitations that followed in its wake, Halloween is not a gorefest but a far more suspenseful and unsettling film. It’s shocks and sinister atmosphere are the result of sumptuous panavision cinematography by Dean Cundey and inventive editing by Tommy Wallace and Charles Bornstein. Another invaluable asset to the film’s effectiveness is John Carpenter minimalistic synth and piano score which perfectly embellishes the film with an air of menace. After 33 years and various re-arrangements in subsequent sequels, the original Halloween Theme is still as effective today as it was when the film was first released.
Tenebrae (1982) is probably Dario Argento’s most accessible “giallo” for mainstream audiences. Although violent, it is not as narratively complex as Deep Red (1975) or as bat shit crazy as Phenomena (1985). The story centres on popular American novelist Peter Neal (Anthony Fanciosa) who is in Rome to promote his latest book. Events take a turn for the worst when a series of murders appear to have been inspired by his work. The plot twists and turns, the director explores themes such as dualism along with sexual aberration and blood is copiously spattered across the white walled interiors of modernist buildings. It is slick, disturbing and has a pounding synth and rock score by former Goblin members, Claudio Simonetti, Fabio Pignatelli, and Massimo Morante.
An American Werewolf in London is a genre milestone and one of the few horror films that successfully manages to balance humour and suspense without mitigating the overall tone of the story. 40 years on from its theatrical release it still holds up well with its bitter sweet love story, tragic themes and ground breaking transformation effects by Rick Baker. Director John Landis never really bettered this concise and effective genre outing. It hits the mark in virtually every part of the production. However, there is one aspect of the film that does suffer as a result of the director’s personal choices. Whether it is to the detriment of the overall film is debatable. The point in question is the film’s soundtrack and the director’s focus upon the song Blue Moon by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart.
Before we start, no I am not writing about Alexander Courage’s classic main theme for the original Star Trek show. I can add nothing further to that particular discussion and it remains iconic and inspiring, even when distilled down to just the initial fanfare. In this post I want to draw your attention to another piece of music from Star Trek that has permeated its way into popular culture. A cue that when heard, if the listener is familiar with its provenance, will instantly conjure up images of flying drop kicks, ear claps and judo chops. A piece of music that can be added to pretty much any video footage and instantly make it more heroic. Yes, I am talking about what has become generically known as Star Trek “fight music”. Or more specifically, the "The Ancient Battle/2nd Kroykah" cue from Amok Time (S02E01) composed by Gerald Fried. The scene during the koon-ut-kal-if-fee ritual in which Spock fights Kirk on the planet Vulcan for complicated “reasons”.
Classical music has often been used to great effect in cinema since the advent of sound. It has certain advantages over bespoke compositions, in that it can imbue a scene with a sense of gravitas and emotionally connect with viewers who may already be familiar with the piece being played. Legendary director Stanley Kubrick famously rejected Alex North’s score for 2001: A space Odyssey after finding the classical tracks he used for the temporary soundtrack complement the visuals perfectly. Over the years, some particular pieces of classical music have proven to be very popular and flexible, thus appearing in a wide variety of films across multiple genres. Hence, I have chosen two well known tracks that demonstrate this. I would also like to highlight contemporary classical music and have also selected one example that I feel demonstrates how the genre sublimely compliments cinema.
If you mention The Pink Panther (1963) I’d hazard a guess that most people will instantly think of Inspector Clouseau (and possibly throw in a quote in faux French about “Minkeys”) or hum or whistle the iconic theme tune. It’s blend of cool sixties Jazz and Lounge is both classy and evocative. Henry Mancini’s contribution to the Pink Panther franchise is commensurate to that of Peter Sellers and Blake Edwards. If you removed his musical scores from any of the films they would be greatly diminished. In fact one can argue that the movies made in the eighties after Sellers’ death are greatly bolstered by Mancini’s intelligent and accomplished musical accompaniment. The franchise may have run out of steam but Mancini never did so.
Back in August 2018, I posted seven of my favourite tracks from various video games that I’ve played over the years. I thought recently that it was high time that I did the same again. So here are a further five musical cues that I especially enjoy. All of which contribute greatly to the respective games that they feature in. Unlike film composers, musicians that write for video games do not always enjoy comparable exposure or attention. Yet often they have a more complex remit, having to write material for dozens of hours of content, rather than just two or three. Furthermore, the complete soundtrack to many video games often remain conspicuously absent, with fans having to data mine the game client to find the tracks that they love. Which is why it is important for those that enjoy video game music to show their support. Perhaps then more publishers will release full and comprehensive game soundtracks for digital download.
It was Friday the 13th yesterday, so I thought it was about time that I added Harry Manfredini’s iconic score to the annals of Classic Movie Themes. The 1980 slasher movie Friday the 13th has become as legendary in the pantheon of cinematic horror history as John Carpenter’s Halloween. Although there are marked differences between these two films, both use minimalist musical scores extremely effectively to punctuate the proceedings and embellish the overall atmosphere. However, Manfedini did not want to provide viewers with obvious audio cues during scenes of building tension. He preferred to focus his score upon the activities of the franchise's iconic killer, Jason Voorhees, and hence have strong musical cues when he was on screen. This approach meant that he had to use a unique musical motif to denote potential tension, without diminishing its effect on the audience by excessive use of obvious and melodramatic cues.
Game of Death was Bruce Lee’s fourth Hong Kong martial arts movie. Due to the success of his previous films he found himself in a position where he could finally write and direct a project himself. Filmed in late 1972 and early 1973, the film was put on hold midway through production when Hollywood offered him a starring role in Enter the Dragon. He died shortly after completing the US backed movie that made him an international star, so Game of Death remained unfinished. Several years later the rights to the raw footage were sold and recycled for a new movie, that kept the name but bore little resemblance to Lee’s original vision. For most of Game of Death, Kim Tai-jong and Yuen Biao double for Bruce Lee and it is only in the final act that audiences actually get to see about 12 minutes of material that he shot himself. The 1978 release of Game of Death, directed by Robert Clouse, is a mess but remains a cinematic curiosity. The scenes which genuinely feature Bruce Lee are outstanding, even in an abridged form.
The Long Good Friday not only launched then career of Bob Hoskins but remains a uniquely British take on the gangster genre. Featuring authentic performances and a credible plot, the screenplay touches upon many of the social and political issues of the time; police corruption, the IRA, urban renewal and the decline of industry, along with EEC membership and the free-market economy. It’s a gritty and unrelenting drama that is still relevant today. Furthermore, the film is filled with quotable dialogue and has several stand out scenes that showcase Bob Hoskins’ smouldering performance. It’s also offers of “who’s who” of British character actors and there is one sequence still has the power to shock even today.
A few years ago, I wrote a post about cult movie soundtracks and how many of these movies are often blessed with a high quality score from an established composer. The subject came up again recently when I was visiting the British Film Institute with friends, and several other examples were discussed. Hence, I thought it would be prudent to write a follow up post with another selection of material, as it continues to amaze me how often the most appalling films can still have outstanding soundtracks. With this idea in mind I've collated five films that are for various reasons are labelled “cult” and have suffered the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune” over the years. All have scores of interests and note, though for different reasons. I have chosen a track from each soundtrack which I think highlights the musical excellence and integrity of the composers involved. The genres are varied as are the musical styles and nuances of each piece. All clearly demonstrate how a well-conceived score can embellish and enhance a movie, effectively becoming a character in its own right.
Lords of the Fallen is an action role-playing game from 2014, played from a third-person perspective. It is broadly in the same idiom to Darksiders and Dark Souls with the emphasis on complex and challenging combat. And it is for that reason that I didn’t get on with this title when I bought it in a Steam sale a few years ago. I felt that the long, protracted fights were an impediment to the narrative, which I quite enjoyed. However, the game was designed this way to appeal to the combat focused gamer and “git gud” culture. But I think that it’s important to try different genres of games from time to time and to step occasionally out of your comfort zone. I would cite the Hand of Fate series as a positive example of this. Both of those titles are from a genre I wouldn’t usually consider and playing them turned out to be a very positive experience
Alien is a unique genre milestone. It challenged the established aesthetic created by 2001: A Space Odyssey of space travel being pristine, clinical and high tech and replaced it with a grimy, industrial quality. The space tug Nostromo is also a conspicuously “blue collar”, civilian venture, underwritten by a large corporation. As for H. R Giger’s xenomorph, it redefined the depiction of extraterrestrial life in movies. Director Ridley Scott brought visual style and atmosphere to particularly unglamorous and dismal setting. He also scared the hell out of audiences at the time with his slow burn story structure and editing style that hints, rather than shows. Overall, Alien is a text book example of how to make a horror movie and put a new spin on a classic and well-trodden concept.
James Horner was a prolific, yet consistently good composer with a broad range of styles. Consider his score for 48 Hrs with its Jazz under currents and then compare it to his grand swashbuckling approach to Krull. They are radically different soundtracks, but both are extremely effective in embellishing their respective motion pictures. That was James Horner great talent. He knew when to be theatrical and bombastic but could also dial it back and be subtle, gentle and delicate. It made his body of work very diverse and memorable.
James Horner, although possessing a very broad and eclectic musical range, was in many respects a very traditional composer. He was certainly au fait with works of such giants as Miklós Rózsa, Korngold and Bernard Herrmann and it often manifested itself in his music through his use of the leitmotif. Perhaps the reason James Horner was so consistently good and crafted so many outstanding pieces of music, is because he never saw his profession as just a means to an end. As he said in an interview once, “I don’t look at this as just a job. I see music as art”.
Star Trek: Enterprise was the first show in the Star Trek pantheon to have a song performed by an established artist play over the opening credits, rather than a traditional theme tune. Up until 2001, the franchise had maintained a more formal approach, established with the iconic introduction to the original series composed by Alexander Courage. Needless to say, such a radical departure from established practise brought about consternation and debate among fans. In some respects, you can argue that point about the entire show itself, but that as they say, is an entirely different blog post. Needless to say, the dislike and hatred that the song Where My Heart Will Take Me engendered in certain quarters, lead to a petition to have it removed. Needless to say, this movement failed, and the show continued using it for four seasons. Seventeen years on this particular debacle has now died down and the song is often just referenced ironically by fans as an amusing anecdote and piece of Trek trivia.
According to Wikipedia “Hawk the Slayer is a 1980 British sword and sorcery adventure film directed by Terry Marcel and starring John Terry and Jack Palance. The film has developed a cult following”. That doesn’t do the movie justice by any reckoning. Hawk the Slayer is a quirky, low budget, high camp fantasy movie that compensates for its budgetary shortcoming by being so preposterously silly. It is loaded with hard boiled, fantasy steeped dialogue that parodies well known genre tropes. It treads a fine line between utter bilge and stupid fun. It is very much a product of its time and is also filled with British character actors. Some viewers will see nothing more than a cheap and cheerful cash-in on the eighties Sword and Sorcery boom. Others will delight at this inventive, stylised and silly fantasy orientated outing. Such is the nature of cult movies.
Film producer Julian Blaustein had a long-standing desire to make a film that addressed the fears and concerns of the post war Atomic Age. With the backing from Fox Studio Executive Darryl F. Zanuck, he hired screenwriter Edmund North to adapt the short story Farewell to the Master by Harry Bates. The screenplay provided a moral commentary about the ongoing arms race and featured an alien visitor with Christ like qualities who delivers an apocalyptic message. Veteran director Robert Wise was brought in head the project and a fine cast of established characters actors such as Michael Rennie, Patricia Neal Hugh Marlowe and Sam Jaffe was assembled. The finished movie has proven to be one of the greatest science fiction movies ever; it is The Day the Earth Stood Still made in 1951.
King Solomon’s Mines is a 1985 Cannon Films production based on the pulp works of H. Rider Haggard. It was quickly made to cash in on the ongoing success of Indiana Jones franchise, although the finished movie bears little resemblance to the classic original novel. Like most Cannon movies from that boom era, it was a cheap and fast enterprise that superficially sported a good cast, but ultimately didn’t do much with them. Veteran director J. Lee Thompson favoured a light and comic approach to the material, as the film’s budget could hardly sustain any major notable set pieces. Yet, it proved popular enough at the box office to warrant a sequel the following year. Allan Quatermain and the Lost City of Gold proved to be as equally silly but by then the public’s interest had waned.
A ten months ago, I wrote about the LOTRO soundtrack and listed some of my favourite tracks. This time round rather than just limit myself to music from one game, I thought it may be more interesting to broaden the remit. So, I have decided to upload seven of my favourite tracks and music cues from various games I have played over the last two decades. As with cinema, the soundtrack of a game plays a very important role. It can make a substantial impact on the players perceptions and enjoyment. The following tracks are examples that I feel have greatly enhanced a game. They’re also ones that I find particularly enjoyable. They are not in any order of preference.
10 Sad Movie Death Scenes Part 2
Up (2009). The opening scenes of Up are a beautiful distillation of the life of Carl Fredricksen (Ed Asner), the movies main character. Comprising of a montage, we are shown him meeting his childhood sweatheart Ellie and there subsequent marriage. The narrative then explores the major events of their life together. The couple are not blessed with children and also have to sideline their ambitions to travel the world, due to the realities of work and married life. Ellie grows sick in her autumn years and dies leaving Carl a widower. The sequence plays out wordlessly against a winsome and understated score by Michel Giacchino. The emotional depth and craftsmanship apparent in these scenes are of a quality seldom seen in modern film making. They validate the skills of Pixar Animation Studios and the medium of animation.
Up (2009). The opening scenes of Up are a beautiful distillation of the life of Carl Fredricksen (Ed Asner), the movies main character. Comprising of a montage, we are shown him meeting his childhood sweatheart Ellie and there subsequent marriage. The narrative then explores the major events of their life together. The couple are not blessed with children and also have to sideline their ambitions to travel the world, due to the realities of work and married life. Ellie grows sick in her autumn years and dies leaving Carl a widower. The sequence plays out wordlessly against a winsome and understated score by Michel Giacchino. The emotional depth and craftsmanship apparent in these scenes are of a quality seldom seen in modern film making. They validate the skills of Pixar Animation Studios and the medium of animation.
Assault on Precinct 13 (1976). The killing of a child on screen is still very much a cinematic taboo and very few film makers have the nerve to do it. The murder of Kathy (Kim Richards) as she buys an ice cream in Assault on Precinct 13 is still very shocking to this day. Yet director John Carpenter handles the scene in a very measured fashion and although he shows the shooting quite calmly he avoids excessive melodrama or voyeurism. The subsequent sequence where the girl's Father returns from the pay phone to find his child dead on the sidewalk is very powerful. The way actor Martin West blankly stares blankly ahead trying to make sense of what he sees is disturbingly plausible. I've always found the way he takes off his jacket and covers his daughters corpse very touching.
Red Sun (1971). Former Bond director Terence Young struggles with an international cast, bland screenplay and slipshod editing in the 1971 Western Red Sun. Starring Charles Bronson and Toshiro Mifune, beyond its initial appeal of mixing the genres, the film fails to meet it's potential. It is none the less still entertaining mainly through the performances of the two leads. Toshiro Mifune had an inherent gravitas that made him a compelling actor. As a child I was fascinated by the skill and dexterity of the Samurai Kuroda, along with his cultural sophistication. It was a stark contrast to the rather two dimensional caricature that Mr. Bronson was saddled with. Yet despite the obvious shortcomings of the screenplay the relationship that grows between the two is engaging. Kuroda's rather obvious death at the movies denouement always upset and annoyed me. It was unjust and simply just lazy writing.
Enemy Mine (1985). If you've ever seen John Boorman's Hell in the Pacific, then you'll quickly get the measure of Enemy Mine. Director Wolfgang Peterson does a competent job of crafting a tale of inter species conciliation, set against a science fiction back story. The movie had a very problematic production history and it is to everyone involved credit that it turned out as well as it did. Dennis Quaid and Louis Gossett Jr. deliver strong performances as Willis "Will" Davidge and Jeriba Shigan. Chris Walas does stirling work with the alien Drac prosthetic effects. There is a poignant duality to Jeriba Shigan's death scene as he dies in childbirth (Dracs reproduce asexually) and Davidge has to come to terms with promise he made to raise the child Zammis and return him to his homeworld.
The Mist (2007). Frank Darabont is a very astute director and he strongly resisted studio pressure to change the ending of The Mist. Based on a Stephen King novella, the movie centres around an eclectic group of survivors trapped in a supermarket by an mysterious mist. Once you look beyond the standard trappings of a creature feature, you'll find a rich and compelling character study of people desperately trying to cope and rationalise inconceivable events. The cast and performances are outstanding, especially Thomas Jane, Toby Jones and Marcia Gay Harden. Darabont skilfully shows how the superficial trappings of civilised society are quickly dispelled in a crisis. He also holds his nerve and offers the audience a terribly bleak yet compelling ending. Desperate, lost and out of hope survivor David Drayton, by mutual consent, turns his gun on his fellow companions (including his own son) to spare them a slow death. Out of ammunition and unable to kill himself, he contemplates the magnitude of what he has done. It is at this point that the mist clears and rescue is at hand. It is one of the most powerful and heartbreaking movie endings I have ever seen.
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.
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.
10 Sad Movie Death Scenes Part 1
The Black Hole (1979). Like many Disney's movies, The Black Hole has hidden depth and is more than just a late seventies Space Opera. The relationship between the anthropomorphic robots Bob and V.I.N.CE.N.T. has an interesting metaphysical subtext. The voice casting of Slim Pickens and Roddy McDowall is sublime and provides the audiences with an immediate connection to the characters. Bob's death scene rises above the contrived as a result of this and has genuine pathos. It is further enhanced by the skill of the animatronics effect work and the subtleties of their physical performances. The way V.I.N.CE.N.T. lowers his eyes when Bob shuts down is wonderful embellishment. The sequence is completed by John Barry's beautiful and dignified music cue.
The Black Hole (1979). Like many Disney's movies, The Black Hole has hidden depth and is more than just a late seventies Space Opera. The relationship between the anthropomorphic robots Bob and V.I.N.CE.N.T. has an interesting metaphysical subtext. The voice casting of Slim Pickens and Roddy McDowall is sublime and provides the audiences with an immediate connection to the characters. Bob's death scene rises above the contrived as a result of this and has genuine pathos. It is further enhanced by the skill of the animatronics effect work and the subtleties of their physical performances. The way V.I.N.CE.N.T. lowers his eyes when Bob shuts down is wonderful embellishment. The sequence is completed by John Barry's beautiful and dignified music cue.
The Fly 2 (1989). Our emotional connection with our pets has always provided film makers with a rich vein of material to explore or exploit, depending on your point of view. The death of a canine companion has become a established cinematic trope. Consider Mad Max 2, The Beastmaster and Big Jake for example and you'll find exemplars of the "Martyr Dog" concept. In The Fly 2, Martin Brundle (Eric Stoltz) discovers that his childhood pet dog, which he thought had died in a failed teleportation experiment, is still alive and suffering as a result of its horrific transformation. Martin pets the decrepit animal who recognises him and feebly tries to greet him. He finally puts the poor creature out of its misery with chloroform. It can be argued that this is just a Palovian exercise in emotional button pushing but I find that there is an sense of honesty to the scene and the manner in which it is presented.
The Wild Geese (1978). The cultural complexities and hierarchy of the British military are a microcosm of the class distinctions that run through the United Kingdom. This is superbly highlighted in Victor McLaglens's 1978 movie The Wild Geese, which centres around a group of mercenaries and their attempt to rescue a deposed African political leader. Regimental Sergeant Major Sandy Young (Jack Watson) is a very traditional soldier and extremely deferential to his friend and superior, Colonel Alan Faulkner (Richard Burton). In a scene establishing the mutual respect between the two men, Faulkner jokingly quips that RSM Young can call him by his first name if he wishes. Ironically the only time he does this is when he is fatally shot at the movies climax. It's a genuinely moving vignette mainly due to the credibility of Jack Watson's performance.
The Plague Dogs (1982). If you were shocked as a child by the content of Martin Rosen's animated film Watership Down, then prepare yourself for an even more gruelling experience with The Plague Dogs. This is an intelligent but incredibly sad exploration of man's exploitation of animals. Upon it's initial release many people including the distributors were not expecting such a bleak and hard hitting story from an animated feature film. As a result the movie was cut from one hundred and three minutes to eighty two. The story follows two dogs, Snitter (John Hurt) and Rowf (Christopher Benjamin), who escape from a government research laboratory and are pursued by the military. A reoccurring theme throughout the film is that the pair may find safety on a secluded island away from the "whitecoats". After several harrowing adventures The Plague Dogs ends with the dogs on the point of utter exhaustion, swimming towards an island that may not exist. It is never established whether they survive or not.
On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969). Often considered the most controversial of all the Bond movies, due to its replacement of Sean Connery and radical change in tone, On Her Majesty's Secret Service has enjoyed a renaissance in popular opinion in recent years. Directors such as Steven Soderbergh consider it to be an underrated classic. I've always enjoyed the movie and its core theme of Bond (George Lazenby) finding meaningful love and fulfilment with Contessa Teresa "Tracy" di Vicenzo (Diana Rigg). Unfortunately a happily married Bond was not exactly what the producers were looking for back in 1969. Therefore there is a rather sad inevitability to the abrupt death of Mrs. Bond just minutes after the pairs wedding. Fans have drawn parallels with 2006 reboot, Casino Royale and the death of Vesper Lynd (Eva Green), although the relationship between the two leads in that instance is not so closely defined.
To be continued.
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.
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.
Doomsday (2008)
Neil Marshall's third film is fast paced action movie, which pays homage to the "Post Apocalypse" genre and much more. It is a text book example of a film in three acts and is also pretty much the sum of its parts. The dialogue is minimalist, the acting adequate and the action frenetic and violent. Be warned, this film has earned it's 18 certificate for its UK release. However, none of these attributes are bad things. Doomsday makes its intention clear right from the beginning. If you want any further clues, take a look at the UK theatrical poster. The club with spikes is a fair indication that subtlety is not this movie’s strong point.
Neil Marshall's third film is fast paced action movie, which pays homage to the "Post Apocalypse" genre and much more. It is a text book example of a film in three acts and is also pretty much the sum of its parts. The dialogue is minimalist, the acting adequate and the action frenetic and violent. Be warned, this film has earned it's 18 certificate for its UK release. However, none of these attributes are bad things. Doomsday makes its intention clear right from the beginning. If you want any further clues, take a look at the UK theatrical poster. The club with spikes is a fair indication that subtlety is not this movie’s strong point.
A deadly plague, known as the “Reaper Virus,” has killed hundreds of thousands and left Scotland devastated. In desperation, the British Government evacuates as many survivors as it can out of the infected area, and then builds a wall, preventing the remainder from escaping. Thirty years later, with the wall still up and the victims all but forgotten, the virus appears to breaks out again in London. The Government decides to send a crack team of operatives, led by Major Eden Sinclair, into the hot zone behind the wall, to investigate the possibility of a cure.
Neil Marshall’s previous two films, Dog Soldiers and The Descent were very well received by both the public and critics. The latter was tightly written and directed and stood out compared to the usual contrived commercial studio fodder. Doomsday is a far more main stream affair and does not have the same level of tension and sophistication. It is a high octane action film that deliberately pays tribute to such pictures as Escape From New York, The Medieval Dead and Mad Max 2. However, the story unfolds at such a fast pace and lurid fashion, it is easy to overlook the plot flaws and inherent silliness of the premise.
The first act showing the outbreak of the reaper virus, the isolation of Scotland and then the subsequent raid into the forbidden territory, is by far the most engaging. Acts two and three are a series of action sequences in two different environments. They serve to expedite and close some plot lines and whittle down the cast. The production values are good and the film is littered with visual jokes and references. Performances are exactly the kind you need in such a movie. Bob Hoskins gives it plenty of "South London", Malcolm McDowell is suitably sinister and Craig Conway is cheerfully psychotic. Rhona Mitra proves that women can happily take on the role of action hero.
Doomsday is very entertaining on a "what you see is what you get" basis. It may particularly appeal to people of the director’s age group. Those who can remember the "Post Apocalypse" direct-to-video releases that saturated the market in the eighties. The soundtrack by Tyler Bates reflects this with its use of synthesisers and songs by "Adam and the Ants" and "Frankie Goes To Hollywood". The car chases and pyrotechnics are good for the films budgetary limitations. Be warned, as I said earlier, this film is violent. Bodies are crushed, limbs hacked off and there's even cannibalism.
My only criticism relating to Doomsday is the modern, rapid fire editing, that seems to be so fashionable these days. This actually dilutes some of the action sequences, rather than enhance them, which is a shame as some of the combat scenes have been well choreographed. But apart from this issue, I consider Doomsday to be a solid and affectionate tribute to the action genre of the eighties and nineties. Viewers get a professionally crafted action vehicle, that is tonally spot on for such genre material. It may not be the director’s best work but it’s possibly the most fun.
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.
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.
Village of the Damned (1995)
The original 1960 version of Village of the Damned is regarded as a classic of science fiction film genre and it remains one of the creepiest movies of its kind. The mixture of nuclear age paranoia and “evil children” reflect the social concerns of the decade. The 1995 remake directed by John Carpenter, trades subtlety for more explicit chills and violence. That is not to say it doesn’t show the director’s usual creative flair and the basic premise of the story remains effective, drawing on the original 1960 screenplay and John Wyndham’s novel, The Midwich Cuckoos. However, despite being stronger in content than the original film, Carpenter’s movie actually has a softer tone overall and opts for a less bleak and somewhat incongruous ending.
The original 1960 version of Village of the Damned is regarded as a classic of science fiction film genre and it remains one of the creepiest movies of its kind. The mixture of nuclear age paranoia and “evil children” reflect the social concerns of the decade. The 1995 remake directed by John Carpenter, trades subtlety for more explicit chills and violence. That is not to say it doesn’t show the director’s usual creative flair and the basic premise of the story remains effective, drawing on the original 1960 screenplay and John Wyndham’s novel, The Midwich Cuckoos. However, despite being stronger in content than the original film, Carpenter’s movie actually has a softer tone overall and opts for a less bleak and somewhat incongruous ending.
In the tiny, idyllic town of Midwich, a strange mist causes the entire population to fall asleep, and when everyone awakes the town physician (Christopher Reeve) discovers that ten women, including his wife and a local teenage virgin, have mysteriously become pregnant. Their children are all born on the same day, with matching white hair and strange glowing eyes. They grow at an accelerated rate, thus raising Reeve's suspicion that they are not of earthly origin. The children can control minds and wreak havoc with the power of their thoughts, so of course they must be destroyed. Now before you shout "xenophobia", it should be noted that attempts to communicate with the aliens are made, yet prove fruitless. The alien children wish to dominate over man.
Village of the Damned is driven by a measured cast of character actors, such as Kirstie Alley, Mark Hamill and Peter Jason. The depiction of a close-knit community is credible as the town inhabitants struggle to understand what has happened to them. There are some superficial updates to the narrative, one of which alludes to the government doing more harm than good during their clumsy intervention with the aliens. The effects work by the KNB EFX group is relatively minimal and the emphasis is still very much on tone and atmosphere. Sadly, despite several well-conceived ideas Village of the Damned never seems to assert itself in any particular way. It struggles to find its tone, which is unusual for John Carpenter.
Ultimately it is Christopher Reeve who dominates this somewhat superfluous remake with sufficient credibility to hold the viewer's attention. Once his character establishes how to break the alien children’s mind control there is a genuine sense of tension. This was his last major role before the tragic accident that led to his paralysis. As mentioned previously there’s a concession towards a more mainstream ending than the original film, which is a little weak. Yet despite its flaws, Carpenters version of Village of the Damned is still intriguing and shows the occasional flash of innovation. However, if you want chills of a subtler nature, check out the original version. It runs twenty minutes shorter and is twice as spooky.
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.
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.
Outlander (2008)
Sometimes a movie can have a premise that is sufficient to carry the proceedings. If you then add some quality character actors and ensure that the production values are high, then you can bluff your way to the end credits before the audience realises they're watching something really dumb. Outlander achieves this prodigious feat. It is an incredibly stupid film yet perversely entertaining. It boasts beautiful cinematography, a cast that is more than capable and perfectly acceptable CGI. At times, you feel like the entire production is challenging you to shout out loud quite how dumb the plot is. However the audience blinks first and director Howard McCain gets away with it.
Sometimes a movie can have a premise that is sufficient to carry the proceedings. If you then add some quality character actors and ensure that the production values are high, then you can bluff your way to the end credits before the audience realises they're watching something really dumb. Outlander achieves this prodigious feat. It is an incredibly stupid film yet perversely entertaining. It boasts beautiful cinematography, a cast that is more than capable and perfectly acceptable CGI. At times, you feel like the entire production is challenging you to shout out loud quite how dumb the plot is. However the audience blinks first and director Howard McCain gets away with it.
After his spaceship crashes, Kainan (Jim Vaviezel) finds himself the sole survivor of his crew and marooned in Norway circa 709 AD. Furthermore, a dangerous and intelligent beast called Moorwen who was a prisoner aboard his ship, has escaped. While pursuing the creature he is captured by Wulfric (Jack Huston), a Viking warrior and brought before King Hrothgar (John Hurt). His claims that he is hunting "a dragon" are mocked but as the body count grows the Vikings begin to take his story more seriously. After saving the King's life Kainan finds himself accepted by his captors. Can he fashion a suitable weapon to defeat Moorwen who has established a den and is now breeding?
Yes, this is a movie about a spaceman, Vikings and a beast with nasty big pointed teeth. The storyline is predictable and formulaic. Enemies becoming friends, important lessons about life are learned and minor characters die in the finest Red Shirt tradition. There is an arbitrary romantic sub-plot involving the King's daughter Freya (Sophia Myles) and an orphan child who becomes a surrogate for Kainan's own lost family. The dialogue is functional and nothing more, taking the movie from A to B. The action is violent and perfunctory. Yet the movie still works irrespective of its own logical flaws and inherent stupidity.
When a bad movie still proves to be entertaining, it's often comes down to tone and the underlying conviction of those involved with it. I believe that Outlander was made with the genuine goal of entertaining the public. Unlike a movie like Brick Mansions which just oozes contempt for the viewer, Outlander is laughing along with the audience and not at them. It's also better than the other Viking themed action movie Pathfinder, starring Karl Urban, which explored the lofty concept of Vikings versus Native Americans. Outlander also has a modicum of sympathy for the main antagonist, Moorwen. If that angle had been explored further then this may well have been a better movie. As it stands its acceptably crass and is best enjoyed with a beverage. Please note this film may offend Norwegians.
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.
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.
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.