Jack the Giant Killer (1962) ***

Just to be clear, this is not, as I had automatically assumed, about Jack and the Beanstalk. Also, it’s worth pointing that the stop-motion animation is not, as I had equally automatically assumed, the work of Ray Harryhausen. It hadn’t occurred to me that anyone else could follow in Harryhausen’s footsteps, especially when this number has gathered together some of the other constituents of Harryhausen’s first gem, The Seven Voyages of Sinbad (1958), namely star Kerwin Matthews, co-star Torin Thatcher and director Nathan Juran 

This falls into the “See!” (don’t forget the exclamation mark!) category of moviemaking when the audience is expected to sit transfixed as strange creatures appear one after the other and in between is very much of the ho-hum variety.

To be sure, this is a very entertaining little piece with, as in the stop-motion formula, everything else taking second place to the variety of monsters – the titular giant, spectral figures, a dinosaur, a two-head monster, and a magician who can make things disappear. Given that the heroine doubles up as the villainess, this takes the narrative into unusual waters. And that’s before we come to the leprechaun-in-the-bottle.

It is just as well the special effects are up to scratch – for the time – because everything is played like a pantomime. The villain, Pendragon (Torin Thatcher), isn’t far short of issuing the occasional hiss and his face has a strange hue to put it mildly. But he’s a clever evil wizard and under the guise of playing tribute to King Mark (Dayton Lummis) presents his daughter Princes Elaine (Judi Meredith) with a large doll’s house from which emerges a tiny creature whose main appeal is that he can dance.

Come night, however, and after Pendragon has sneaked into the castle, the creature is released and turns into the rampaging titular giant who kidnaps the princess in his mighty claws. Farmer Jack (Kerwin Matthews) comes to the rescue and manages to tangle the giant in the workings of the mill and kills him.

You’d expect romance to bloom and initially it does, but you’d think the king would be more grateful than to nip romance in the bud by sending Elaine to France to hide out in a convent. (I should point out the tale is set in Cornwall, so France is just across the sea). But the ship doesn’t reach its destination. Skeletal witches attack. Elaine is captured once again. Jack and the ship’s captain’s son end up in the drink where they are rescued by a friendly Viking who has in his possession the imp-in-the-bottle who can grant wishes.

Pendragon’s scheming and magic ensures that Elaine is turned into a villainess and even when Jack rescues her for a second time her villainy ensures he’s the one who’s captured and the imp and bottle are chucked into the sea.

There’s a fair bit of the conjuring of bad spells – humans are turned into dogs and monkeys – and a fair bit of trying to break them but Pendragon always appears to have another spell up his sleeve and able to conjure up more creatures. Now it’s a two-headed giant confronting Jack who is then able to summon a sea monster to retaliate. But Pendragon can turn himself into a dragon.

There’s certainly an element of the Harryhausen in the clash of the monsters and the wanton destruction that appears to be their sole reason for existence. Naturally, it all ends happily and with all spells lifted romance can resurface.

I’m probably going to upset the Harryhausen cognoscenti by professing my admiration for the stop-motion animation work by Project Unlimited (The Time Machine, 1960). They might be a bit crude compared to Harryhausen but they certainly did the job.

This didn’t condemn Kerwin Matthews to fantasy and he moved immediately into thriller Maniac (1963). Judi Meredith wasn’t so fortunate and ended up as the female lead in low-budget thrillers like Dark Intruder (1965). Torin Thatcher (The Sandpiper, 1965) had a ball over-acting.

Nathan Juran (East of Sudan, 1964) sticks to the knitting. He wrote the screenplay with Orville H. Hampton (Riot on Sunset Strip, 1967).

Not going to tax your brain but good fun.

Behind the Scenes: The Day The World Changed – The Odeon Triple Opens in Glasgow

It was a seismic event for cinemagoers. Although the twinning of cinemas in the U.K. and Europe had already begun – lagging way behind the cineplexes of America – the opening of a triple cinema in Glasgow on 2 October 1970 (where I lived) was groundbreaking in more ways than one. It completely altered the distribution landscape. In one fell swoop it permitted one cinema center in a major British city to run both roadshows and general releases at the same time and to hold onto general releases for far longer than previously.

It wasn’t the first cinema expansion in Glasgow. In 1968, the ABC in Sauchiehall St had split into two. But that was for a different purpose. The second, smaller, cinema was established to offer ABC a city center home for roadshows. Although in the U.S. roadshows might be coming to the end of their viability that wasn’t the case in Europe. The revamped 70mm version of Gone with the Wind ran for 30 weeks at ABC2 while David Lean’s Ryan’s Daughter a couple of years later would trump that with a run of more than a year.

In the U.K. twinning and tripling had been tentative. In London’s West End, for example, there wasn’t a single twin or triple except at the tiny Cinecenta which had barely 600 seats spread over four screens and primarily operated as a second run or specialist house.

The Odeon in Glasgow – the biggest cinemagoing city by capita in the whole of Britain – was a much bolder initiative. At a cost of £450,000 – (the equivalent to $£6.3 million today) the Rank Organisation turned the existing single-cinema operation into the biggest triple in Europe with seating for 2,500 – not a bad reduction from the original capacity of 2,784. The remodeling took over a year.

Odeon 1 had 1,124 seats including 64 luxurious pullman armchairs and projection facilities for both 35mm and 70mm. Odeon 2 had fewer seats with Odeon 3 limited to 555. The Odeon 1 launched with roadshow Cromwell starring Richard Harris and Alex Guinness. Odeon 2 featured the blockbuster Airport with Burt Lancaster, Dean Martin and Jacqueline Bissett heading the cast. Odeon 3 offered a more modest proposal, The Virgin and the Gypsy with Franco Nero and Joanna Shimkus.

The triplex completely altered city center cinemagoing. The three cinemas could afford to keep movies on for longer than before, even allow them to build an audience, rather than yanking them off screens before word-of-mouth had done its job.

Cromwell ran for nine weeks, Airport for six weeks and The Virgin and the Gypsy for three. But, gradually, the smallest of the three cinemas began to play a more important role in the operation. Roadshows that had question-marks against their potential longevity were able to open in Odeon 3 and be held over for longer than they might have been in Odeon 1.

So musical Song of Norway, celebrating the work of classical composer Grieg but without a single marquee name, completed an 18-week run at the Odeon 3 while historical drama Franklin J. Schaffner’s three-hour epic Nicholas and Alexandra, again without a significant marquee names, managed 21 and Charles Jarrott’s Mary, Queen of Scots – at least with actors worthy of top billing in Vanessa Redgrave and Glenda Jackson – 16. Launched in the more competitive environment of the larger Odeon 1, none of these would have lasted even a month.

The movies could also drop through the gears.Previously, a hit might have had to be pulled to accommodate a new booking in the bigger cinema. But now it could be shifted down to the Odeon 3. Ralph Neslon’s bloody revisionist western Soldier Blue starring Candice Bergen ran for 10 weeks in Odeon and another four in Odeon 3. Both Diamonds Are Forever, Sean Connery’s brief return to James Bond, and Norman Jewison’s musical Fiddler on the Roof played for 12 weeks, in Odeon 2 and Odeon 1 respectively.

There was even room for sleepers, Stanley Long’s purported documentary Naughty! ran for seven weeks in Odeon 3; Anthony Hopkins in Alistair MacLean actioner When Eight Bells Toll notched up six weeks in Odeon 2 and a reissue of David Lean’s Lawrence of Arabia was good for four weeks in Odeon 3.

The ability of the triplex to absorb a hit was no better demonstrated in 1976 when Milos Forman’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest starring Jack Nicholson racked up a record run of 24 weeks at the complex. But this was spread over the three cinemas. It broke down into 14 weeks at Odeon 1, six weeks at Odeon 2 and four weeks at Odeon 3.

For cinemagoers like me it was game-changer. In the past it was very rare for a movie to run even three weeks at the Odeon. If you missed it first time round, you had to scour the papers to see when it might end up in second run or your local nabe. Even then, you might be talking it remaining in cinemas for a total of three or four weeks.

Now, you could count of having two or three months to catch a big new film at the Odeon. This was a more leisurely approach to cinemagoing. And, roughly speaking, it’s what happens today.

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