All-Time Top 40

Not my pick of the flicks, but yours, the films viewed most often since the Blog began in June 2020. Given that the number of hits for the blog has tripled over the last year, you might expect to see an entirely new Top 40. But that’s not been the case. Worth noting that the top five pictures star women. And some films have shown remarkable staying power with some stars – big round of applause for Ann-Margret, Angie Dickinson, Alex Cord, George Peppard, Gene Barry, Jean Seberg, Roger Moore, Alain Delon, Frank Sinatra, Kirk Douglas et al – featuring more than once.

The figures in brackets represent the previous year’s position.

  1. (4) The Swinger (1966). All hail Ann-Margret. Bouncy sex comedy that manages a sprinkling of innocence. 
  2. (40) Stagecoach (1966). No prizes for guessing that it’s the presence of Ann-Margret (again) rather than Alex Cord that has hit a chord in this decent remake of John Ford’s famous western.
  3. (1) Jessica (1962). Angie Dickinson as a young widow incurring the wrath of wives in a small Italian town.
  4. (5) Fraulein Doktor (1969). Under-rated World War One espionage tale with Suzy Kendall out-foxing Kenneth More, grisly realistic battle scenes and a superb score from Ennio Morricone.
  5. (New Entry) The Sins of Rachel Cade. Angie Dickinson as African missionary falling foul of the natives and commissioner Peter Finch. Roger Moore in an early role.
  6. (3) Once Upon a Time in the West (1969). Sergio Leone masterpiece featuring the stunning cast of Claudia Cardinale, Henry Fonda and Charles Bronson and that fabulous Morricone score.
  7. (New Entry) Fireball XL5. The famous British television series from Gerry and Sylvia Anderson, now colorized. “My heart will be a fireball…”
  8. (3) The Secret Ways (1961). The first of the Alistair MacLean adaptations to hit the big screen features Richard Widmark trapped in Hungary during the Cold War. 
  9. (10) Moment to Moment (1966). Nod to Hitchcock in twisty Jean Seberg thriller set in the South of France. Also starring Honor Blackman.
  10. (New Entry) Vendetta for the Saint . Who cares if it’s two television episodes combined? Roger Moore tackles the Mafia.
  11.  (32)  Baby Love (1969). Controversy was the initial selling point but now it’s morphed into a morality tale as orphaned Linda Hayden tries to fit into an upper-class London household.
  12. (15) The Sisters (1969). Nathalie Delon and Susan Strasberg in complicated love triangle of love and betrayal.
  13. (7) Pharoah (1966). Polish epic set in Egypt sees the country’s ruler at odds with the religious hierarchy.
  14. (9) Can Heironymus Merkin Ever Forget Mercy Humpe and Find True Happiness? Self-indulgence reaches new heights as singer Anthony Newley invokes his inner Fellini that somehow involves bedding lots of women. Then-current wife Joan Collins co-stars.
  15. (New Entry) The Best House in London (1969). That’s a euphemism for a brothel, let’s get that right from the outset. David Hemmings tries to do right by the sex workers.
  16. (New Entry) Pendulum (1968). The George Peppard (or perhaps Jean Seberg) reappraisal continues. Here he is the cop accused of murdering unfaithful wife Seberg.
  17. (6) Oceans 11.  Frank Sinatra heads the Rat Pack line-up, inspiring a couple of remakes and with Tarantino ripping off one scene.
  18. (36) Lady in Cement (1969). Sinatra again as private eye Tony Rome who takes on Raquel Welch (and that’s a stretch?) as a client.
  19. (8) The Golden Claws of the Cat Girl (1968). French cult film with Daniele Gaubert as a sexy cat burglar.
  20. (New Entry) Go Naked in the World (1961). Gina Lollobrigida finds that her profession (the oldest) and true love (with rich Anthony Franciosa) don’t mix. Great turn from Ernest Borgnine as a doting father.
  21. (17) Pressure Point (1962). No escape for racist patient Bobby Darin when psychiatrist Sidney Poitier is around.
  22. (New Entry) A Dandy in Aspic (1968). Cold War thriller with Laurence Harvey as a double agent who wants out. Mia Farrow co-stars.   
  23. (22) Deadlier than the Male (1967). Espionage with a sting in the tale as venomous female villains including Elke Sommer and Sylva Koscina target Bulldog Drummond.
  24. (New Entry) Once a Thief (1965). Change of pace for Ann-Margret as working mother whose ex-jailbird thief Alain Delon is forced into another job.
  25. (12) Subterfuge (1968). Gene Barry-Joan Collins spy thriller set primarily in a dreary London.  
  26. (14) Fade In (1968). Not at all as bad as rising star Burt Reynolds believed he disowned it. Romance set on a movie location.
  27. (New Entry) The Girl on a Motorcycle / Naked under Leather (1968). Heavily-censored in the U.S., erotic drama with singer Marianne Faithfull as the titular fantasizing heroine. Alain Delon co-stars.
  28. (New Entry) Some Girls Do (1969). Bulldog Drummond returns and a bevy of villainous women including Daliah Lavi and Beba Loncar await.
  29. (New Entry) She Died with Her Boots On / Whirlpool (1969). Sleazy British film from cult Spanish director Jose Ramon Larraz sees kinky photographer Karl Lanchbury seduce real-life MTA Vivien Neves.   
  30. (New Entry) The Misfits (1960). Last hurrah for Clark Gable, fabulous turns from Montgomery Clift and Marilyn Monroe in John Huston tale of losers.  
  31. (New Entry) Rage (1966). Glenn Ford and Stella Stevens combat pandemic in Mexican town.
  32. (23) A House Is Not a Home (1964). Not when it’s a brothel. Shelley Winters is the madam. Raquel Welch has an uncredited role.
  33. (New Entry) In Harm’s Way (1965). John Wayne and Kirk Douglas in Otto Preminger WW2 epic set in Pearl Harbor and after.
  34. (New Entry) Istanbul Express (1968). Gene Barry faces Senta Berger in espionage thriller. Shown on television in the U.S., but gained a cinematic release elsewhere.
  35. (24) P.J. / New Face in Hell (1967). George Peppard’s private eye finds client Raymond Burr too tough to handle. Gayle Hunnicutt is the femme fatale.  
  36. (New Entry) Beat Girl / Wild for Kicks (1960). Another sleazy British drama. Gillian Hills is the youngster tempted into the striptease game. Christopher Lee puts in an appearance.  
  37. (27) The Brotherhood (1968). Brothers at war Mafia-style with Kirk Douglas and Alex Cord.  
  38. (New Entry) The Invitation (2022). Gothic conspiracy starring Nathalie Emmanuel from Game of Thrones.
  39. (New Entry) The First Deadly Sin (1980). Frank Sinatra’s last starring role as cop tracking serial killer. Faye Dunaway plays his dying wife.
  40. (New Entry) The Family Way (1966). Hayley Mills sheds the child-star image with a vengeance, shedding his clothes in British family drama. Co-starring father John Mills and Hywel Bennett.

aka Mr Chow (2023) ****

Pop quiz: name the only brother and sister who appeared in the same James Bond film. Hint: You Only Live Twice (1967). You might be more familiar with Tsai Chin (The Face of Fu Manchu, 1965, and three sequels) than Michael Chow. Though he had a bigger role in Joanna (1969) and The Touchables (1969) he was never more than a bit player, and often  uncredited (55 Days at Peking, 1963). He also appeared in The Brides of Fu Manchu (1966) and there’s a fair chance you might remember him from Modesty Blaise (1966).

But HBO isn’t noted for devoting a documentary to a bit part player, not even one who can recite the opening of any film you care to mention. This film begins with such a recitation – encompassing the likes of North by Northwest (1959). If ever there was a more arresting opening to a documentary, this is it.

If you’re a fashionista or restaurant fan or gulled by celebrity photos, you’ll more likely know him by the name of Mr Chow, under which he established a chain of spectacularly successful eateries in London, New York and Los Angeles. He wasn’t even a chef, an understandable subject for a docu, what with all the creative endeavor that involves. But there’s no doubt he was creative, if only in reinventing himself. Born Zhou Yinghun, he chose the name “Mr Chow” because it meant people addressing him such manner rather than treating him with a racist epithet.

He might well have deserved a documentary for other reasons. He was the son of one of most famous Chinese opera stars, who reinvented the genre, and he escaped the cull of the intelligentsia instigated by Chairman Mao. His father was imprisoned for years and his mother was “beaten to death.”

The young Chow was living in England at his point, having been sent at a young age to a boarding school there, where racism of course was endemic. He attended art school but when his paintings didn’t sell he made a living from bit parts in movies – he was the child mown down by a car in Violent Saturday (1960), for example.

A Chinaman wanting to set up a business in London in the 1960s had two options: a laundry or a restaurant. But Chow didn’t want to imitate the ubiquitous Chinese restaurant. His artistic side came to the fore via interior design. His venture, in the staid world of the restaurants of the era, was a culture shock. Everything about it was different – no chopsticks and Italian waiters and no dressing for dinner (wear what you like), an anomaly in a high-end operation at the time. But since he attracted more than his fair share of celebrities presumably what they wore was highly acceptable.  

An abundance of charm and connections gained through the movie business provided the funding. But it soon became the “in” place, and every evening was a performance.

By the time HBO came to make a documentary about him – and perhaps this fitted in more with that streamer’s agenda – he had become a proper artist. So much of the film, and indeed a good chunk of the opening section, is devoted to his modernistic artworks which often involved blowtorches, sheets of plastic and a rubber hammer. He exhibits under the name “M” so if you are familiar with the art world that might strike a better chord.

In the fashion of the current docu style, the makers seduce you with interesting material then hit you with a couple of blows you didn’t see coming. The “Shanghai trouble” is one such, which saw both parents killed. But there was also AIDS. His third wife Tina, a famous model, divorced at the time, died of that disease, contracted through a lover, not Chow, and she was one of the first non-homosexual people to be linked with the illness, and one of the first celebrities.

Abandoned, as he saw it, by his mother (in sending him to boarding school) family meant everything and you get the sense that the restaurants were as important as the various wives in creating a loving world. But he is also quite matter-of-fact about the personal calamities – you move on is his doctrine. The racism he endured cut deeper. Even as a famed restaurateur standing outside one of his own restaurants he found it hard to get a taxi to stop.

A handful of celebrities – hardly an all-star cast – pay tribute from Oscar-winning producer Brian Glazer (A Beautiful Mind, 2001) to LL Cool J and author Fran Lebowitz. But the pictures tell a story – Jack Nicholson, Mick Jagger etc are caught on camera having fun. I have to say the one time I went to the LA branch – as the guest of the publisher of Variety magazine – there was not a celebrity in sight (but it was lunch not dinner), though we were seated at Table No 1.

Cunningly directed by Nick Hooker (Agnelli, 2017).

As fascinating a docu as you will come across.

https://www.hbo.com/movies/aka-mr-chow

Mysterious Island (1961) ****

It’s the Ray Harryhausen Show. You’re not here for the story, surely, or the characters. You’re just waiting patiently for the monsters to appear. The only element that’s ever wrong with this kind of picture is that in-built delay. The need to set up the story and establish the oddities of the world before the behemoths trundle into view.

Doesn’t matter whether the creatures already live in an accommodating  global ecosystem like Jason and the Argonauts (1963) or One Million Years B.C. (1966). Or whether you are  going to come across them by the simple device, most famously, of dropping through a rabbit hole (Alice in Wonderland) or via a cupboard door (The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe) or a  rockface cracking open (Prehistoric Women / Slave Girls, 1967) or a time warp (Wonder Woman, 2017).

Here, it’s a bunch U.S. Civil War soldiers who need to break out of their prison and commandeer a handy hot-air balloon that can fly thousands of miles to the uninhabited volcanic island occupied by giant beasts. So we’ve got a monstrous crab, giant bees, chicken, gigantic octopus. And the success or failure of the picture relies not so much on whether our heroes can overcome these than that they look realistic.

And, boy, they are just brilliant. This is fairly early on the Harryhausen catalogue but if his stop-motion animation was still going through an experimental stage it’s hardly noticeable. Enhanced claws and beaks are just dandy for trapping humans, having them wriggling madly to avoid being split open with one snap. And the bee is pretty cunning, filling in the hole the invading humans have created in the massive honeycomb.

And should, perchance, your mind be wandering director Cy Endfield (Zulu, 1964) has a bout of sequel-itis, throwing in Captain Nemo from author Jules Verne’s 20,000 Leagues under the Sea (1954), and prequel-itis – the pirates from his In Search of the Castaways (1962) – plus, to add the romantic touch, a couple of shipwrecked damsels and, for the climax, volcanic eruption.

No doubt you’re dying to know about the characters you couldn’t really care less about who are encountering this legion of beings. So, we’ve got the grizzled Capt. Harding (Michael Craig), young Herbert (Michael Callan) who will express his romantic side, Sgt. Pencroft (Percy Herbert), Corporal Nugent (Dan Jackson) and Gideon (Gary Merrill). There are joined by posh English lady Mary Fairchild (Joan Greenwood), who happily buckles to and is handy with a rifle, and her niece Elena (Beth Rogan) who decides laziness is the better option when she’s not canoodling with Herbert.

Their job is to squabble, beat off the monsters, adapt a local geyser for cooking purposes, set to building a boat to escape, and await the next monster/person who’s going to upset their plans.

Captain Nemo certainly makes an impression, his ship, the Nautilus, stranded under the volcano and the man himself taking a break from the world since he doesn’t believe he is such a good fit. Turning up out of the waves in an improvised aqualung isn’t quite an entrance on a par with Ursula Andress in Dr No (1962), but it runs it close, though bikini tops rubber-suit all the time.

The pirates are just a menace and I wouldn’t be surprised if you came away with the notion that they are rammed into the tale just so their sunken ship, scuttled by Nemo, can miraculously rise from the waves thanks to the sailor’s ingenuity.

Time has been kind to Harryhausen. What was once viewed as appealing only to children and the childish wondrous aspects of adults has now become cult viewing. And no wonder. In the age of CGI, it’s quite astonishing what he has managed to achieve with what appears the most rudimentary of techniques.

Of the actors, British star Michael Craig (Doctor in Love, 1960) has his hands full to stop the picture being stolen by rising American actor Michael Callan (The Interns, 1962), a grumpy Gary Merrill (A Girl Named Tamiko, 1962), an almost avuncular Herbert Lom (The Frightened City, 1961) and a delightful turn by plummy-voiced Joan Greenwood (The Moon-Spinners, 1964).

You wouldn’t think this was the ideal movie to set you up for Zulu, but Cy Endfield does a good job of keeping the story moving and keeping out of the way during the Harryhausen sections. Screenplay by John Prebble (Zulu), Daniel B. Ullman (the television writer’s only movie of the decade) and veteran Crane Wilbur (The George Raft Story, 1962).

Huge fun. All hail King Ray.

https://amzn.to/3Rmb76d

Rebel Moon Part One : Child of Fire (2023) ****

Seems heck of shame Netflix didn’t deign to give this a big-screen send-off, especially as it runs only a shade over two hours (that’s if you don’t count the 12 minutes of credits) and the battle scenes will look cramped however big a small-screen you possess. This was crying out for Imax. Plus, kudos to Zack Snyder for giving a 41-year-old actress the lead in a $200 million production. Could you imagine any major Hollywood studio backing that call?

Derivative for sure – what space/fantasy epic isn’t going to be? You can spot references to everything from Lord of the Rings to Game of Thrones never mind Seven Samurai/The Magnificent Seven not to mention John Wick and for all I know Home Alone. But who cares?

It’s a blast even if the voiceover laying the groundwork is a bit turgid and the backstory complicated to say the least. So, we start in some kind of Viking-esque farming village where Admiral Noble (Ed Skrein) lands with troops, demanding tribute. He leaves behind a bunch of grunts to hold the fort till the next harvest comes in.

Kora (Sofia Boutella), a stranger taken in by the village, intends to skedaddle but is halted in her tracks by the screaming of a village lass being molested by the soldiers. She soon sets about them and having exacted revenge/justice (take your pick), realizes the Motherworld (the name of this universe/multiverse/whatever) will be back for revenge/justice so she heads off with callow villager Gunnar (Michiel Huisman) to recruit rebels.

There’s little as cosy as a Hobbit-like village from now on. And the world invented is less derivative than you might expect. Sure, the saloon they enter full of odd creatures has its origins in Star Wars and the gryphon has got to come from Game of Thrones, but even so, both sequences work out in more original fashion. But try to better the scorpion robots and you’ll come up short, and the sequence where another robot is given a crown of flowers takes some beating.

This is complex stuff. Kora’s backstory is incredibly complicated and some of her recruits show considerable empathy with creatures they encounter or are about to kill or enslave. The special effects are top class. And her gang seem worthy accomplices, down to the Han Solo type rogue Kai (Charley Hunnam), though given this is a truncated version of the four-hour edit director Zack Snyder has up his sleeve we’ll have to wait a bit longer to get a better grip of some of them, especially the Brother-Sister-Act Darrian and Devra Bloodaxe (Ray Fisher and Cleopatra Coleman) who lead the existing rebels.

Best introduction goes to swordswoman Nemesis (Donna Bae) who has to deal with a child-deprived outcast giant spider, but the long-haired muscle-bound Tarak (Staz Nair) runs her close in taming the gryphon.  A former general turned gladiator (now that has a familiar ring) Titus (Djimon Hounsou) completes the team.

Given the complexity mentioned, you shouldn’t be surprised if the plot turns out to be a tad complicated, and the double twist at the end sets up part two nicely.

I have to confess I had to check out Sofia Boutella’s portfolio but I haven’t seen anything in which she was the standout and to be honest I don’t remember her from the unmemorable The Mummy (2017). So, as far as I was concerned (mea culpa) she was an unknown. But even if I had seen those various movies/ television roles I would still have reckoned Snyder was sticking his neck out casting her in this when there are already a host of bankable female stars (many of whom have made a point of kicking ass on screen).

She’s excellent in the role. Ed Skrein, who I do remember as being memorable in Midway (2019), is of the sadistic villain variety. I was less convinced I have to say by Charley Hunnam (Pacific Rim, 2013) but the rest of the cast passed muster.

Zack Snyder’s (Wonder Woman, 2017) career has been pretty hit-or-miss, especially when his final cut veers so wildly from that of his employers, and I can’t be the only moviegoer annoyed by this notion of announcing a Director’s Cut even before the cinema release is announced. The only Director’s Cut I ever thought worth the name and the trouble was Ridley Scott’s Kingdom of Heaven (2005), which added genuine depth, and was far superior to the original.

Worth a watch. And since Xmas favorites now include the likes of Die Hard (1988), this may well join that august group.

Catch it on Netflix.

Faces in the Dark (1960) ***

Had his been tagged “From the Makers of Vertigo”, it might have immediately attracted a greater immediate audience and been treated these days with more critical reverence. But Vertigo wasn’t the cult film it is now, so the names of the authors of the source book, Pierre Boileau and Thomas Narcejac, would have no promotional value.

Throw in a stunning score by Mikis Theodarakis (Zorba the Greek, 1964) and a top-line cast including Swedish bombshell Mai Zetterling (Only Two Can Play, 1962), cult character actor John Ireland (The Ceremony, 1963) and an early role for Nanette Newman (The Wrong Box, 1966) plus a gender switch on the traditional gaslighting plot and you have makings of a classy little number.

When an experiment goes wrong, ambitious arrogant businessman Richard Hammond (John Gregson) is blinded. To help him recuperate wife Christiane (Mai Zetterling) flies him off to their luxurious Cornwall retreat where, to ensure is mind isn’t overloaded with business concerns, she switches off the phone. Along for the ride are his sponging brother Max (John Ireland), business partner David (Michael Denison), housemaid Janet (Nanette Newman) and chauffeur Clem (Tony Wright).

When things are not what they seem – the cat has suddenly lost its tail, a peach plant has disappeared from the garden, he smells pine, hears church bells – he believes he is going insane. Doesn’t take long before he realizes this is not a haven, but a trap. Sounds providing the greatest clues, he hears a giveaway clicking, indicating the presence of David, in his wife’s bedroom when the partner is meant to be a hundred miles away.

His brother has also disappeared, believed dead, and when his wife gives the help the night off and he is left in the house with the lovers is convinced they are trying to poison him and refuses to eat any food. Given sounds are so important, there’s one brilliant scene, where, having escaped, he discovers none of the locals can understand what he’s saying, and not because he’s gabbling either. But that’s such a clever plot point, I wouldn’t be a spoiler.

So you’ve got tension fairly climbing the walls .

The only downside is that Richard is such an unlikeable character – not a poor soul like Audrey Hepburn in Wait until Dark (1967) – that it’s hard to summon up the sympathy an audience requires for such a story to properly work. Theoretically, he’s just a driven man, whose genius is being blocked by the cynical bankers, but from the outset he’s full of bluster and nasty put-downs, and has everyone in the factory he owns on edge.

Anger at his condition and fear that insanity or failure lies ahead puts him in a constant rage and, heavily sweating for no particular medical reason, he’s not the most charismatic of screen characters. Even though his reaction would fit with a successful businessman failing to come to terms with the calamity, those elements, which might have evoked greater sympathy, are somewhat adrift when they get tangled up with the plot.

Director David Eady (The Verdict, 1964) does his best to compensate. The music, as mentioned, helps, throbbing piano rather than screaming violins. And there a couple of neat visuals, the swirling smoke of the credit sequence reappearing to devastating effect in one sequence. But, mostly, he lines up reasons for Richard to begin to question his sanity and believe he is being duped – he can’t read documents he must sign and as the only part of his handwriting that stands up is his signature suspects his impoverished brother will write a larger sum on a cheque he signs.

And since most of this unfolds through the mind of Richard, the director plays fair with the audience. There are no nods and winks about the nature of the relationship between wife and partner. Even though she confides in David that she’s planning to leave Richard, there’s no indication that it’s for the partner.

So this is more like a detective story and, as with Vertigo, featuring an obsessive character driven mad by obsession, both led on by the devious, and having to piece together a strange amalgam of clues.

John Gregson (The Frightened City, 1961), normally essaying more stoical characters, overacts, but the others do the opposite. Mai Zetterling is convincing and former British matinee idol Michael Denison plays against type (he wouldn’t make another movie for 30 years). Nanette Newman shows promise while John Ireland reins in the surliness. Ephraim Kogan (in his sole movie credit) and John Tully (who didn’t get another movie credit for the decade) wrote the screenplay.

Effective thriller ripe for a remake.

Catch it on Amazon Prime or DVD.

https://amzn.to/3RoBDfb

Riot (1969) ***

Stand-Off might be a more apt title but that’s not going to sell many tickets. After taking over the wing of a prison, not a great deal happens except for character development. As it turns out the threat of a riot is intended merely as a ruse to cover an attempted break-out.

Inmate Cully (Jim Brown) is the first to point out to escape mastermind Red (Gene Hackman) the deficiencies of his plan. For a start, they are in the middle of the desert and without transportation and food, neither of which is handy or arranged, they are likely to find the wilderness a worse prison. Secondly, there’s a hell of a lot of digging to do, a tunnel long enough to allow them to emerge on the other side of the walls.

And thirdly, and most presciently, most of the prisoners don’t give a fig about organizing a break-out. They are simpler souls, wanting to enjoy a brief moment, even if still incarcerated, of freedom, happy to glug down gallons of home-made brew, watch drag acts for entertainment and slit the throats of the guards taken hostage.

It’s ironic that Cully and Red begin acting like prison warders, defending the hostages against the most vicious of the inmates, guarding them as they take a walk of shame to a hideout, and chucking into solitary the most depraved of the prisoners. The prison break, when it finally comes, is exceptionally well done by director Buzz Kulik (Villa Rides, 1968) .

A small hole in the sun-parched earth becomes bigger until a furry head like a groundhog appears and the outside of the prison walls is viewed from the perspective of a potential escapee.

The ultimate sex’n’violence double bill.

But, mostly, it’s a long haul of tension. Red holds the officials at bay with not just the hostages but a set of demands for better treatment, triggering a bout of negotiation and talking to the media. As in female-starved male-dominated pictures like The Flight of the Phoenix (1965) and The Dirty Dozen (1967), women are shunted in by devious means, in the former via a mirage, in the latter through the sex workers smuggled in prior to the mission. Here, Cully dreams of landing by helicopter beside a pool of beautiful bikini-clad women who rush to worship him.

Although Cully and Red don’t exactly see eye-to-eye and for the picture to work of course must bury their differences and work together, the pair don’t rack up the confrontation required for this movie to zing. Cully is somewhat laid-back and Red uses his fingers rather than his fists or loud voice to make points. You kind of wished there was more sign of imminent explosion.

Sure, there are setbacks, and having to change plan and improvise on the spot. The stakes are only really raised when the vacationing prison governor returns and dumps the softly-softly approach of his stand-in, telling the prisoners in no uncertain terms that he will happily murder ten prisoners for each hostage killed, storm the wing and gas them all. The end shows exactly what level of brutality he is capable of.

But, meanwhile, we are left dancing around a bunch of fairly cliché characters, the prisoners in for short terms who don’t want to participate, the lifers wanting brief respite, the killers denied the opportunity to kill, the men who hide their sexual desires under the more acceptable cross-dressing.

Rioting is actually thin on the ground. In fact, Red has to do the opposite. Prevent everyone getting out of line because that will precipitate assault by the prison guards. Keeping everyone happily penned up for the time it takes to complete the tunnel is more Red’s plan than letting the prisoners loose to run riot.

That said, both Jim Brown (100 Rifles, 1969) and Gene Hackman (The Gypsy Moths. 1969) are impressive. Brown reins in the tough-guy act, holding sway in soft-spoken manner, while Hackman brings out more elements of the screen persona that would win him an Oscar a couple of years later for The French Connection.  Naturally, Hackman, in retrospect, attracts the kudos but in reality I think this is a step-up for Brown and he is not acted off the screen. (The pair had appeared together in The Split, 1968).

One of the flaws, I would hazard, is that this kind of picture should have been the break-out vehicle for rising stars – as with The Magnificent Seven (1960), The Great Escape (1963), and The Dirty Dozen – but in that department it’s sorely lacking and I think the picture overall suffers as a result.

Given he knows more than the audience where the story is headed Buzz Kulik (The Warning Shot, 1967) does well to concentrate on the friction between Brown and Hackman. James Poe  (The Bedford Incident, 1965) wrote the screenplay from the Frank Elli book.

Men under pressure are not under enough pressure to make it zing.

https://amzn.to/3tjAHAG

Behind the Scenes: Raquel Welch, Unknown Actress, 1964-September 1966, Gets The “Big Build-Up”

As demonstrated in Madison Avenue (1961), the “big build-up” was code for inflicting on an unsuspecting public an unlikely candidate for acclaim. Of course, for decades, Hollywood hacks had been bombarding fan magazines, weeklies, glossy monthlies and dailies with beefcake and cheesecake photos of promising new talent. But the hook was that these actors were shortly appearing, albeit in a bit part, in a few months’ time in a forthcoming movie.

Modelling was another device to attract the attention necessary to generate a screen career. Sometimes, these (predominantly female) models would be making their first throw of the dice, hoping that some producer in an idle moment might catch a glimpse. Or, they could be women who made a living from selling such snaps to such media.

But, usually, it was one thing or the other: gratis photos handed out by grateful studio marketing teams or photos that an editor paid for in the hope they would increase circulation (in the days when there was no such thing as a giveaway magazine). La Welch appears to have fallen into the latter category.

But it was a heck of a long-term build-up given that with the exception of the virtually unseen Swingin’ Summer (1965), in which she has a bit part, Raquel Welch did not appear in a movie until September 1966. By that point, modelling a skintight number in Fantastic Voyage  – it was December before that iconic fur bikini in One Million Years B.C. set male hearts pumping – it seems that magazine editors the world over were prone to giving her space in the years prior covering 1964-1966 when she was effectively an unknown.

Esquire splash.

Which would go some way to explaining why by the time her first movies hit the screen she was already a familiar face (and body, it has to be said) to many (and not exclusively male) in the audience. The promotional push was supplied by Twentieth Century Fox which had signed her to a five-picture contract, making her, perhaps in their own words, one of the most sought-after actresses in Hollywood.

But deals with studios for new talent were ten a penny, no guarantee the studio would keep its side of the bargain, nor that the contract would run to term, nor that the actress would be handed anything but bit parts. Still, it probably cost relatively little to start pumping out promotional photos with “new rising talent” as the lure. Magazines seemed happy to accept on face value that she was a rising star even though there was no proof that she had the talent to match.

Life magazine proved something of a stepping stone. She was featured in a bikini in its Oct 2, 1964, issue. But you could just as easily have caught her in a leopard-skin dress draped across a cocktail stool, one of several cheesecake pictures taken to promote the starlet.  Parade magazine, in Britain, something of a lower-grade male magazine, far removed from the likes of the glossier Playboy, was among the first to take the bait, in December 1964 (see above) handing the young potential star its front cover. (Her surname was misspelled as Welsh – and her Christian name was misspelled as Rachel when she featured again in March 13, 1965.)

Five of the 10 chosen Deb Stars of Tomorrow. See if you can spot our gal.

But the real boost came at the end of December 1964. That month she was one of ten potential female stars featured in the Dec 27 issue of New York Journal-American under the title “TV’s Magic Wand Taps Girls As Stars of Tomorrow.” She had been chosen to appear on ABC TV’s “Debs Stars of 1965” programme. This show claimed an 85 per cent success rate in picking potential stars, with Kim Novak, Tuesday Weld and Yvette Mimieux among previous winners.*

In April 1965, the distinctly more upmarket – and not male-appealing – McCalls in the U.S. came calling, but that front cover dispensed with the sexy look, presenting her wearing spectacles. By September 1965, the Fox marketeers had been hard at work and won for her – a full year before Fantastic Voyage opened – the front cover and an inside spread in the British edition of movie fan magazine Photoplay. The next month brought another iconic photograph, the “nude” spread in U.S. upmarket monthly Esquire, accompanied by a full-page interview that treated her as the next big thing, again on the word of Fox, nobody having as yet seen so much as an inch of the footage of the sci-fi picture.

The same month in trademark bikini she was on the front cover of U.S. Camera and Travel magazine (surname again misspelled), photographed by Don Ornitz and described as “a rising young actress with many screen and TV credits to her name” without specifying that in fact these were mostly uncredited or in bit parts. Also during 1965 she featured in Turkish magazine SES and Portuguese magazine Plateia.

But there was also the grind. She advertised Wate-On slimming in Screen Stories in 1965,  was the cover model for True Love in September 1965 while for Midnight magazine – and surely this was a story dreamed up by a publicity hound – her front cover picture was accompanied by the heading “Adultery Can Save Your Marriage” and inside she was quoted as saying “A Wife Should Let Her Husband Cheat.”

The big build-up went into overdrive in 1966. She modelled bikinis in two more front covers in Parade (all name errors corrected) in January and July. Australians preferred a more demure – or at least non-bikini – look. In Australian Post (June front cover) she was photographed wearing a “dress of ten thousand beads” from her unnamed next picture (neither Fantastic Voyage nor One Million Years B.C. obviously). There was a slinky pink number for the Australian edition of Photoplay (August, front cover and full-page photo inside) and a quote “I think its important for a girl to exploit her physical attractions – but with restraint.”

She also graced Hungarian magazine Filmvilag and Showtime, both in August. Perhaps the most prescient feature ran in Woman’s Mirror in April 1966. For once she was not granted the cover, but featured on a two-page spread inside under the heading “A Star Nobody Has Seen But Everybody Is Looking For.”

Most of her figure was hidden on the front cover of Pageant (July). SES had something of a scoop in its April edition with some behind-the-scenes photos of Welch in her fur bikini for One Million Years B.C. and she made the cover of German magazine Bunte (June).

Exactly how busy and successful Welch – and her promoters – had been could be gauged from the photo that appeared in the Aug 26, 1966, issue of Life, in which she was pictured in front of a wall of over 40 of front covers she had adorned in the previous two years. Pictorial proof that she was in demand and that magazine editors, long before the public had the chance to witness her screen performance, could recognize a certain kind of charisma. (She was featured in Life again in Dec 1966, in a bikini, but seen sideways, bent over and with her hair in pigtails – and on the cover of its Spanish edition on Nov 21.)

And there was another kind of accolade coming her way in Britain. She was chosen as the first cover model for the first issue of men’s magazine Mayfair in August 1966, the same month as she was positioned in the same prominent spot on Adam, another men’s magazine, and in the more sedate British magazine Weekend, in which she was promoting Fantastic Voyage.  

But she would soon be forever associated with the fur bikini, posters of which were soon plastered over the walls of teenage boys. The fur bikini more than anything else broke the mold in the presentation of a new star, and luckily for Welch, the ground work had been done courtesy of the long-range big build-up.

*The other nine Deb Stars of Tomorrow were Barbara Parkins (Valley of the Dolls, 1967), Mary Ann Mobley (Istanbul Express, 1968),  Margaret Mason (no movies but some television), Wendy Stuart (couple of bit parts), Beverley Washburn (Pit Stop, 1969), Tracy McHale (nothing), Laurie Sibbald ( a few television episodes), Janet Landgard (The Swimmer, 1968) and Donna Loren (a few television episodes). No prizes for guessing who won that particular Deb Star competition.

Madison Avenue (1961) ***

Surprisingly effective feminist angle. Unusual for the suave salesman to get his come-uppance from two vulnerable women, but that’s the case here, in an expose of the “build-up” (what we’d call “hype” these days) techniques of the public relations business, an area of advertising generally considered one step below the Mad Men of popular television. Fancy bars and cocktail dresses put in an appearance but, mostly, this deals with the grittier end.

This was pretty much the end of the mainstream Hollywood career for Dana Andrews. Still best-known for Laura (1944) and The Best Years of Our Lives (1946) and for some key film noir titles, this was his last major top-billed role. He wouldn’t make another movie for four years and anyone coming to him in this decade would associate him with supporting roles in the likes of The Satan Bug (1965) and Battle of the Bulge (1965).

So this is, possibly unexpectedly, a performance to savor, for he is hardly the hero, more the kind of character who might turn up in a contemporary movie, with questionable motives to go along with his decided charm (look no further than Leonardo DiCaprio in Killers of the Flower Moon). Though hardly murderous, he is ruthless and doesn’t care who he brings down in achieving his objectives.

After losing his job for purportedly (an accusation unproven but going with the territory) trying to steal the major client, Associated Dairies, of his boss, J.D. (Howard St John), top executive Clint (Dana Andrews) plans to get his revenge in rather sneaky fashion, by turning round its poorly-performing subsidiary Cloverleaf. He targets the dowdy owner, Anne Tremain (Eleanor Parker), of its failing advertising firm, promising her client a big editorial splash in a big newspaper courtesy of journalist girlfriend Peggy (Jeanne Crain).

Anne’s the first beneficiary of his PR skills, reinventing her as a glamorous, power-dressing, more confident advocate of the persuasion industry. He inveigles himself into her arms, at the expense of Peggy. He aids the idiotic owner of Cloverleaf, Harvey (Eddie Albert), who spends all his time in the office playing with model airplanes. (From today’s perspective, he’s something of a savant, predicting these machines – think drones – could one day form part of the delivery contingent.)  

To show just how damn clever he is, Clint “builds up” Harvey into the kind of self-made-man that has politicians purring, and brings Clint back into the winners circle. Unfortunately, the only way to get right in is through deviousness, a bit of back-stabbing here and there, dropping anyone who’s outlived their usefulness. But he’s not as clever as he thinks, lacks the business acumen of Anne, who’s denied him a share of her growing business, and therefore any real power base.

The women take unkindly to being used, Anne now the one doing the tossing-aside. For her revenge, Peggy writes an article that digs the dirt on him. Neither of these women would fall into the femme fatale category, though once all glammed-up Anne could pass for one had she required violence rather than business dexterity to exact her revenge.

Though both, unusually for the times, hold top positions in their businesses – Peggy’s a high-flying journalist working the Washington beat – they are presented initially as easy meat for a man capable of exploiting their vulnerabilities. Clint keeps Peggy on the back foot by failing to turn up for dates or presenting Anne as a rival for his affections.

This is an era where, purportedly, all women wanted was a ring on their finger, and to hang with being landed with an unsuitable man. But both Anne and Peggy upend that stereotype, seeing through the creature who’s come calling. In a western, audiences would have the satisfaction of seeing this kind of despicable character being shot. Here, they get to see him cringe, and be humiliated by women who have come to their senses. Albeit there’s a “happy” ending, that only occurs after some begging by the predator.

It suffers from too many long sequences, and by its determination to go down the satire route in exposing the seamier side of the public relations business. But there are some classic moments, such as when Harvey, tumbling through a prepared speech, has to suddenly wing it and finds his real voice.

But watching Anne get the measure of Clint and seeing him brought to heel by both women suggests the kind of ahead-of-its-time come-uppance that sets this up as an early feminist venture.

Eleanor Parker (The Sound of Music, 1965) and Jeanne Craine (Queen of the Nile, 1961) are both superb as women coming to their senses and this is a quite superb last top-billed hurrah from Dana Andrews. This was also the final outing for director H. Bruce Humberstone (Desert Song, 1953). Former newspaperman Norman Corwin (The Story of Ruth, 1960) and Richard P. Powell (Follow That Dream, 1962) based the screenplay on the best seller by Jeremy Kirk.

Resonates on the feminist front.

Remake Double Bill – The Three Musketeers: Milady, or Part Deux if you prefer (2023) *** / Godzilla Minus One (2023) ***

The Three Musketeers

Cherchez la femme, as they say in French. Here, because everyone is doubling up (or doubling down, I never get that right, and it is of course a sequel), the narrative has our heroes (and these being four musketeers if you include D’Artagnan and not three) chasing all over France in pursuit of two women.

If you recall from episode one (and it doesn’t matter if you don’t because this starts with a neat re-cap), D’Artagnan’s (Francois Civil) girlfriend Constance (Lyna Khoudri) has been abducted after overhearing details of a plot to kill King Louis XIII (Louis Garrel), so he’s trying to find her. Meanwhile, everyone’s after Milady (Eva Green), the double-crosser’s double-crosser. In fact, to complicate matters, the movie begins with her being rescued by D’Artagnan.

As it turns out, that’s one of the easiest complications because unless you’ve got a PhD in French history, you won’t have a clue what’s going on, what with imminent English invasion, traitors inside the palace, eternal bad guy Cardinal Richelieu (Eric Ruf) and the French laying siege to their own port of La Rochelle. I’m guessing, because it’s not exactly plain, that the background is Catholic vs Protestant enmity.

I’d forgotten of course that our heroes are called musketeers for a reason and it’s not because they are swashbucklers, though they are pretty nifty with the sword, but the name indicates a certain dexterity with muskets. So, there’s rather a lot more guns being fired and buckles being swashed.

The 1932 version.

And you could be forgiven for thinking this is some kind of riposte to Downton Abbey because everywhere our heroes go there is sure to be some fabulous chateau or castle and all kinds of pomp and circumstance. It’s a tad overladen with characters and not all stand out enough. D’Artagnan doesn’t quite command the screen and of other trio it’s lusty Porthos (Pio Marmai) who steals the show, always ready with a chat-up line or falling down unconscious from alcoholic intake.

Milady is by the far the most interesting character, tying all the males in knots, escaping every type of peril, dodging the hangman’s noose and an inferno and setting up Part III with a clever climax. Although the period wasn’t rife with feminism, she is the poster girl, not just adept with any weapon (including teeth), but detailing what it’s like to be eternally molested by men.

Constance, on the other hand, is as dumb as they come. The scene that allows D’Artagnan to wallow in pathos, you can’t help howling with laughter because the stupid girl has brought on herself a pitiless fate.

Sets quite a pace, but sometimes it’s hard to keep up with the politics and who is romancing who, and why someone who has been helpful in the past now has to be bumped off.

I hope this has earned its big budget back in France because I doubt if it will do well anywhere else.

Feels like director Martin Bourboulon (Eiffel, 2021) has bitten off more than anybody can chew.

Godzilla Minus One

Not just a remake but, as it turns out, a prequel. It’s nipped in early, ahead of the next vehicle in the recycle business Kong vs Godzilla due out next year.

In this Japanese version, made by Toho Studios which was responsible for the 1954 original, the timeline is 1945-1947. It kicks off at the end of World War Two with cowardly Japanese kamikaze pilot Skikishima (Ryonusuke Kamiki) unable to pull the trigger as the monster emerges from the depths. Fast forward to U.S. nuclear tests on the Bikini Atholl, and the creature now mutates with devastating impact on the mainland.

By this point, Skikishima has acquired an orphaned baby and takes on a job on a minesweeper (his trigger finger now put to good use) destroying the thousands of mines left behind after the war so he’s in the front line when the monster re-emerges with an atomic heat-ray in its arsenal, never find those stomping feet and destructive tail.

There’s some clever scientific ruses to destroy Godzilla involving Freon tanks (whatever they are) and some jiggery-pokery to lower the water’s buoyancy (what now?) but basically as you might expect it’s mostly our favorite monster decimating cities and taking on every warship and airplane that the country can throw at it.

It’s pretty good fun but you might find it hard to sympathize with a kamikaze pilot.

The Name of the Game Is Kill (1968) ***

Surprisingly effective thriller headlined by Jack Lord (Dr No, 1962) and providing Susan Strasberg (The Sisters, 1969) with a more complex role than hitherto.

Hungarian drifter Symcha (Jack Lord) hitches a lift in the desert with Mickey (Susan Strasberg), one of three sisters living with their mother (T.C.Jones) and running a filling station in a backwater. And before you can say Bates Motel, it’s clear not all is right. Youngest sister Nan (Tisha Sterling) keeps a rattler and a tarantula as pets and has the awkward personality trait of tending to set cats on fire.

Oldest sister Diz (Collin Wilcox Patton) eyes up the visitor for herself, even though Mickey is clearly hell-bent on him and is short in the fiancé department, her last boyfriend mysteriously disappearing. There’s more than a hint of the later The Beguiled (1970) in that each of the girls, Nan the most blatant, Diz the most persistent, shows keen sexual interest in the visitor.

And there’s some mystery, too, about the dead father. Everyone has a different tale to offer: he was murdered and incinerated by the mother; he committed suicide; he was run over by Nan. It’s this take-your-pick element that throws Symcha, though, admittedly, his brain might be addled after surviving a hit-and-run. Three days in a coma and all he has to show for it is a plaster on his head. He would need to be dumb, or just lusting after Mickey, to return to the house after that.

He makes no bones about being incapable of love, after witnessing friends and family slaughtered after the Hungarian Revolution of 1956. He “wants” her, but doesn’t commit to love. Mickey, in the manner of such romantics, reckons he’ll soon fall into a swoon over her. “Don’t let your past ruin our future,” she opines, in one of several good lines in the picture. “You have a sick mind,” Mickey tells Diz. “No,” she retorts, “I have a sick sister.” The bulk  of the good lines are the family taking verbal chunks out of each other so tension is kept high.

Mostly, Symcha’s job is to act like an involuntarily detective, getting close enough to each of the women to let them spill their secrets, though he’s less adept at working out what’s the truth. Is Mickey a “cheap lay” or virginal? Did Julio, the aforementioned fiancé, disappear once he realized what he was letting himself in for, or was he done away with?

And Symcha’s even less adept at looking after himself. There’s a kind of clever gender switch here. It’s usually the girl who’s foolish enough to return to the haunted house, or who doesn’t recognize danger, or who lets love (in this case, lust) get in the way of rational decision.

Family here is the disturbing element. Anyone attempting to break it up – by heading for San Francisco for example with one of them – is viewed as a threat.

You’ll probably guess the ending from two unnecessary giveaways at the beginning and a flaw in the make-up department, but, in fact, though the poster pleads with you not to give away the ending, it doesn’t say which ending it’s referring to. For this ends with a bang, three twists in quick succession. And don’t be tempted to switch off before the final freeze-frame (I always did wonder where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, 1969, got that idea).

Swedish director Gunnar Hellstrom (Just Once More, 1962) cleverly plays with expectations. He has you thinking, from the way Symcha makes his intentions clear, and from his wandering eye, that he’s the predator descending on a bunch of vulnerable women. He’s got that strong masculine air. He’s soft-voiced, too, and that carries a greater aura of confidence (ask Clint Eastwood) than a loud-mouth more physically-dominant specimen. But it soon becomes clear he might have stumbled into a web.

Jack Lord is more impressive than I expected and if he hadn’t gone straight from this into a dozen years of Hawaii Five-O (1968-1980) he might have blossomed into a decent male lead in the movies. Susan Strasberg gets to run up an entire scale of acting notes, showing that she is far more accomplished and deserved more than just supporting roles.

But everyone gets their moment in the sun. Tisha Sterling (Coogan’s Bluff, 1968) is good, a mixture of  temptation personified and dangerous instinct. Collin Wilcox Paxton (The Baby Maker, 1970) as the dominant sister sometimes overacts to express that character trait, but that’s not to the movie’s detriment as sometimes it is a bit too low-key. Screenwriter Gary Crutcher (The House of Zodiac, 1969) ran with the rattler notion in Stanley (1972).

Would have been more suspenseful minus the early give-aways.

Damn good for a B-picture.

Catch it on Amazon Prime.

https://amzn.to/3uNCxdo

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