Uncategorized – The Magnificent 60s

Behind the Scenes: “Ship of Fools” (1965)

Stanley Kramer was on a roll, It’s A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World – an outlier in his portfolio of serious pictures – his biggest-ever hit. Although United Artists, where the director had made his last four pictures, was initially in the frame for Katharine Anne Porter’s 1962 best seller Ship of Fools, the project ended up at Columbia which Kramer had last partnered on The Caine Mutiny in 1951. While the asking price was $450,000 plus a percentage, Kramer secured the rights for $375,000 although he chipped in $25,000 towards the book’s advertising campaign.

Kramer envisioned a character-driven film that would make up for the lack of action. He shifted the timescale to 1933 from 1931 to bring greater overtones of the Hitler threat. “Although we never mention him in the picture,” said Kramer, “his ascendancy is an ever-present factor.” Since there were no seagoing liners available to take over, the movie was shot entirely on the soundstage. “We filmed a ship’s ocean voyage without a ship and without an ocean.” He ransacked old footage for establishing shots of the ship, usually seen in the distance. Decks, staterooms and dining areas were constructed in the studio.

The kind of muted color he would have preferred was not available and since “the theme was just too foreboding for full color” he decided to film in black and white. Shooting in black and white wasn’t yet redundant. Of 27 features going in front of the cameras in 1964, six (including The Disorderly Orderly and Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte) were made in monochrome – down from ten out of 24 the year before.

A thoughtful epic was always going to have trouble finding stars especially as current wisdom was that the industry only had at its disposal 22 genuine box office stars “thinly sprinkled” through the 43 pictures currently in production. While the movie’s marketeers boasted of an all-star cast, the reality was that while overall the actors had “combined heft” they were “minus any individual box office behemoth.”

Spencer Tracy, whom Kramer initially envisioned for the role of the ship’s doctor and who had starred in the director’s last three pictures, would have added definite marquee allure, but he was unavailable due to illness. Greer Garson and Jane Fonda also fell by the wayside.

And unusually, Kramer insisted that many of those actors were not American. Vivien Leigh was born in India, Simone Signoret – who had just quit Zorba the Greek (1964) – was German and Oskar Werner Austrian. Jose Ferrer (who had won the Oscar in Kramer’s production of Cyrano de Bergerac, 1950) hailed from Puerto Rico, Jose Greco from Italy, Charles Korvin from Hungary, Lila Skalia from Austria and Alf Kjellin from Sweden. Signoret and Skala had Jewish ancestry.

His biggest casting coup was luring double Oscar-winner Vivien Leigh (The Roman Spring of Mrs Stone, 1961) out of retirement. But that was a double-edged sword. In real-life she led a tortured existence. Her marriage to Laurence Olivier was over and she had only appeared in two films since A Streetcar Named Desire (1951). She suffered from mental illness and tuberculosis. “Happiness or even contentment” eluded her and in that respect she was ideal for the role. “I’m sure she realized that, in the picture, she was playing something like her own life yet she never, by word of gesture, betrayed any such recognition.” She was another gamble, the reason her dance card was so empty down to directors despairing of getting a performance out of her.

Kramer flew to Germany to persuade Oskar Werner to take on the role intended for Spencer Tracy. At the time Werner, while familiar to European audiences and the American arthouse set through Jules and Jim (1962),was a relative unknown and a casting gamble. On set he proved obstinate. For one scene where he was instructed to enter camera right he did the opposite. When the direction was repeated, he stood his ground, insisting he preferred that view of his face. Despite the cost of reversing the set-up Kramer was forced to concede. Despite these trials, Kramer got along with Werner better than the actors. “They just couldn’t stand him.” Notwithstanding such difficulties Kramer later signed him for another film, but the actor died before shooting began.

James MacArthur (The Truth about Spring, 1964) was mooted for a role as was Sabine Sun (The Sicilian Clan, 1969). The most unlikely prospect was German comedian Heinz Ruhmann who was cast as Lowenthal. The Screen Actors Guild complained when Kramer hired five Spaniards instead of Americans for bit parts paying union scale of $350 a week, but their complaints were ignored.

Kramer admitted the ingénue roles played by George Segal (The Bridge at Remagen, 1968) and Elizabeth Ashley (The Third Day, 1965) were too much of a cliché. “As in most pictures,” observed Kramer, “older actors not only had more stature but they were also better armed by the writers. There was no way Segal and Ashley could compete with Werner and Signoret.”

The film cost $3.9 million. Filming began on June 22, 1964. It was initially a long shot for roadshow release but since Columbia was already committed to the more expensive Lord Jim and there were already 15 others lined up from other studios, Columbia nixed the two-a-day release in favour of continuous program.

Boosted by book sales – it was the number one hardback bestseller of 1962 and had sold millions in paperback – the movie carved out a more commercial niche than had been anticipated. Positive reviews helped. It opened to a “mighty” $88,000 in New York breaking records at the 1,003-seat Victoria and the 561-seat Sutton arthouse.

There was a “socko” $25,000 in Chicago, “giant” $23,000 in Philadelphia, “sock” $14,000 in Baltimore, “strong” $13,000 in St Louis, “lively” $12,000 in Detroit, “stout” 12,000 in San Francisco, “sturdy” $11,000 in Pittsburgh, and “slick” $10,000 in Columbus, Ohio. The only first run location where it toiled was Denver where it merited a merely “okay” opening of $8,000.

There was a sense of Columbia letting it run as long as possible in first run in the hope of garnering Oscars to boost its subsequent runs. But the studio was the beneficiary three times over from the Oscars – with Cat Ballou, Ship of Fools and William Wyler’s The Collector in contention for various awards.

The studio had the clever idea of pairing Ship of Fools in reissue with Cat Ballou, for which Marvin had won the Oscar, and although not the star of Ship of Fools the teaming suggested it was a Marvin double bill. In Los Angeles the double bill hoisted $135,000 from 21 houses followed by $121,000 from 28. But in Cleveland Ship of Fools went out first with The Collector and then Cat Ballou. A mix-and-match strategy also saw Ship of Fools double up with, variously, A Patch of Blue, Darling and The Pawnbroker.

The final tally was difficult to compute. In its 1965 end-of-year rankings Variety reckoned it had only pulled in $900,000 in rentals but it was good for $3.5 million in the longer term, a realistic target once you counted in the $1.3 million in rentals generated by the combination with Cat Ballou.

SOURCES: Stanley Kramer with Thomas F. Coffey, It’s A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World, A Life in Hollywood (Aurum Press, 1997) pp203-212; “New York Sound Track,” Variety, May 2, 1962, p4; “375G for Fools Novel,” Variety, May 2, 1962, p5; “Publisher’s Big Break,” Variety, May 23, 1962, p4; “Kramer to Produce Ship of Fools for Columbia,” Box Office, June 18, 1962, p9; “Abby Mann to Script Ship of Fools,” Box Office, November 1962, pSE4; “Top German Comic,” Variety, April 15, 1964, p23; “Simone Signoret Exits Zorba,” Variety, April 22, 1964, p11; “Control of Space,” Variety, May 6, 1964, p4; “Five Spaniards on Ship of Fools Irks SAG,” Variety, June 3, 1964, p5;“To Speed MacArthur for Ship of Fools,” Variety, June 10, 1964, p17; “27 Features Shoot in Color, Only Six in Monochrome,” Variety, August 5, 1964, p3; “Perennial Quiz,” Variety, September 2, 1964, p1; “15, Maybe 17, Pix for Roadshowing,” Variety, October 28, 1964, p22; “Too Many Roadshows,” Variety, August 2, 1965, p5. Box office figures, Variety September-November 1965, “Big Rental Pictures of 1965,” Variety, January5, 1966, p6.

Behind the Scenes: All Time Top 30

Since I’ve expanded the All-Time Top Movies to 100 it seems only fair to enlarge the Behind the Scenes section. So this is now a Top 30. The rankings here relate to this time last year.

Includes three Alistair MacLean adaptations. John Wayne and Gregory Peck feature three times and Kirk douglas, Dean Martin, James Stewart, Steve McQueen and Omar sharif twice each. Andrew V. McLaglen leads the directorial charge with three mentions.

(1)Waterloo (1970). No doubting the effect of Ridley Scott’s Napoleon in increasing interest in this famous flop that had Rod Steiger’s French emperor squaring off against Christopher Plummer.
(3) In Harm’s Way (1965). Otto Preminger takes off the gloves to expose problems in the American military around Pearl Harbor. John Wayne and Kirk douglas head an all-star cat.
(2)Man’s Favorite Sport (1964). Howard Hawks back in the gender wars with Rock Hudson being taken down a peg by Paula Prentiss.
(4) The Guns of Navarone (1961). Alistair MacLean created the template for the men-on-a-mission war picture. Gregory Peck, David Niven and Anthony Quinn topline. Nominated for five Oscars including Best Picture, Best Director (J. Lee Thompson) and Screenplay (Carl Foreman) and enough jeopardy throughout the filming to qualify for a movie of its own.
(7) The Satan Bug (1965). The problems facing director John Sturges in adapting the Alistair MacLean pandemic classic for the big screen.
(6) Battle of the Bulge (1965). There were going to be two versions, so the race was on to get this one to the public first. A Cinerama number.
(5) Ice Station Zebra (1968). A complete cast overhaul and ground-breaking special effects are at the core of this filming of another Alistair MacLean tale. Second Alistair MacLean outing for John Sturges.
(New Entry) Barbarella (1968). Jane Fonda was fourth choice after Brigitte Bardot, Sophia Loren and Ira von Furstenberg. Should never have been directed by Roger Vadim who was out of favor with Paramount. One of the first movies to be given a global simultaneous release.
(8) Cast a Giant Shadow (1965). Producer Melville Shavelson wrote a book about his experiences and this and other material relating the arduous task of bringing the Kirk Douglas-starrer to the screen are told here.
(12) Mackenna’s Gold (1969). Tortuous route to the screen for Carl Foreman-produced roadshow western, filmed in 70mm Cinerama, with an all-star cast including Omar Sharif, Gregory Peck and Telly Savalas.
(9) The Girl on a Motorcycle / Naked under Leather (1968). Cult classic starring Marianne Faithful and Alain Delon had a rocky road to release, especially in the U.S. where the censor was not happy.
(12) The Sons of Katie Elder (1965). First envisioned nearly a decade before, Henry Hathaway western finally hit the screen with John Wayne and Dean Martin.
(11). Tora! Tora! Tora! (1970). Richard Fleischer dispenses with the all-star cast in favor of even-handed verisimilitude.
(15) The Trouble with Angels (1966). Less than angelic Hayley Mills sparring with convent boss Rosalind Russell. Directed by one-time star Ida Lupino.
(New Entry) The Misfits (1961). Robert Mitchum turned down the male lead. Clark Gable failed the medical, both Montgomery Clift and Marilyn Monroe had drug problems. It went 40 days over schedule and half a million over budget.
(14) The Bridge at Remagen (1969). British director John Guillerman hits trouble filming World War Two picture starring George Segal and Robert Vaughn.
(16) For a Few Dollars More (1965). Sergio Leone sequel to first spaghetti western brings in Lee van Cleef to pair with Clint Eastwood.
(20) The Collector (1963). William Wyler’s creepy adaptation of John Fowles’ creepy bestseller with Terence Stamp and Samatha Eggar.
(13) Sink the Bismarck! (1960). Documentary-style British World War Two classic with Kenneth More exhibiting the stiffest of stiff-upper-lips.
(18) Bandolero! (1968). Director Andrew V. McLaglen teams up with James Stewart, Dean Martin and Raquel Welch to fight Mexican bandits.
(19) The Train (1964). John Frankenheimer replaced Arthur Penn in the directorial chair to steer home unusual over-budget World War Two picture with Burt Lancaster trying to steal art treasures from under the nose of German Paul Schofield.
(17) How The West Was Won (1962). First non-travelog Cinerama picture, all-star cast and all-star team of directors tackling multi-generational western and all sorts of logistical problems.
(New entry) The Way West (1967). Burt Lancaster, James Stewart and Gary Cooper were the original cast. Charlton Heston turned it down. Robert Mitchum couldn’t make up his mind. Director Andrew V. McLaglen claimed it had been savaged by the studio.
(New Entry) The Wicker Man (1973) at the Box Office. A flop on initial release, U.S. release delayed, it took a long long time before the movie achieved both cult status and came out of the red.
(New Entry) The Stalking Moon (1968). Should never have been made, according to existing legislation, even with Gregory Peck’s participation long delayed in part due to original director George Stevens pulling out.
(New Entry) “Barbieheimer” Recalls the Old Double Bill. The perfect double bill aimed to attract different segments of the audience.
(New Entry) Judgement at Nuremberg (1961). Laurence Olivier was first choice to play the role taken by Burt Lancaster. United Artists was not at all keen on the proposition. Innovative use of the camera. Judy Garland and Montgomery Clift overcame personal problems while Marlene Dietrich was acquainted with one of men on trial.
(New Entry) The Thomas Crown Affair (1968). Sean Connery, Jack Lemmon and Brigitte Bardot turned it down. Director Norman Jewison thought Steve McQueen “completely wrong” for the part.
(New Entry) The Cincinnati Kid (1965). Sam Peckinpah was fired. Spencer Tracy quit. Sharon Tate declined.
(New Entry) The Appointment (1969). Booed at the Cannes Film Festival. Denied a release in the U.S., even with Omar Sharif as star and after being heavily edited by MGM. Only shown on American TV. The biggest financial flop of Sidney Lumet’s career.

All-Time Top 100

Given that I’m now closing in on 2,000 reviews, it seems the correct time to expand the scope of the All-Time Views List. So instead of a Top 50, from now on it’s a Top 100. In case it’s not obvious I should point out that these are not necessarily my favourites, but yours, the movies most viewed since The Blog began five-and-a-half years ago. Since this little exercise is undertaken twice a year the rankings are compared to the previous standings in the all-time list from July this year.

There’s still no shaking Ann-Margret, a brace of her movies – The Swinger (1966) and western remake Stagecoach (1966) – embedded in the top three. In terms of number of entries, Dean Martin is in pole position thanks to a quintet of westerns – Bandolero (1968), Rough Night in Jericho (1967), 4 for Texas (1963), Five Card Stud (1968) and The Sons of Katie Elder (1965).

On four apiece are Raquel Welch and George Peppard, the former in spy adventure Fathom (1967), western Bandolero (1968), crime drama Lady in Cement (1968) and One Million Years B.C. (1966), the latter in House of Cards (1968), Pendulum (1968), Operation Crossbow (1965) and Rough Night in Jericho.

Also making a fine showing are Hayley Mills, John Wayne, Charlton Heston, Senta Berger, Alain Delon and Omar Sharif with three entries each. Mills headlines The Family Way (1966), The Trouble with Angels (1966) and The Chalk Garden (1964). Wayne shows up for war picture In Harm’s Way (1965) and two westerns, The Sons of Katie Elder and Andrew V. McLaglen’s under-rated The Undefeated (1969). Heston shows his marquee power in Diamond Head (1962), The Hawaiians/ Master of the Islands (1970) and The War Lord (1965). Senta Berger is seen in Istanbul Express (19668), Our Man in Marrakesh (1966) and The Secret Ways (1961). Alain Delon tried to go straight in Once a Thief (1965), is intent on crime in Farewell Friend / Adieu L’Ami (1968) and is the lover in Girl on a Motorcycle.

Sharif stars in little-seen The Appointment (1969), Genghis Khan (1965) and J. Lee Thompson Cinerama western Mackenna’s Gold (1969). Ann-Margret also has three after you add Once a Thief (1965) to her list. On the directorial front, Robert Aldrich and Andrew V. McLaglen clock up three apiece, the former with Sodom and Gomorrah (1962), 4 for Texas (1963) and The Flight of the Phoenix (1965) and the latter with western trio The Way West (1967), Bandolero! (1968) and The Undefeated (1969).

Oscar-winner Anora (2024), Pamela Anderson as The Last Showgirl (2024) and French crime thriller Squad 36 / Bastion 36 (2025) head up the contemporary list, although only a handful of recent films have made their way into the Top 100.

If, like me, you’re interested in statistics, you might like to know the genre breakdown. Drama is top with 30 per cent of all the movies featured, crime comes next on 24 per cent, followed by westerns on 14 per cent then spy (11 per cent), war (nine per cent), sci fi/fantasy (five per cent), historical (four per cent), horror (two percent) and musical (one per cent).

The figures in brackets represent the positions in July 2025 and New Entry is self-explanatory. .

(1) The Swinger (1966). Despite shaking her booty as only she knows how, Ann-Margret brings a sprinkling of innocence to this sex comedy.
(2) Anora (2024). Mikey Madison’s sex worker woos a Russian in Oscar-winner.
(3) Stagecoach (1966). Under-rated remake of the John Ford western. But it’s Ann-Margret who steals the show ahead of Alex Cord in the role that brought John Wayne stardom.
(5) In Harm’s Way (1965). Under-rated John Wayne World War Two number. Co-starring Kirk Douglas, Patricia Neal, Tom Tryon and Paula Prentiss, director Otto Preminger surveys Pearl Harbor and after.
(6) Fraulein Doktor (1969). Grisly realistic battle scenes and a superb score from Ennio Morricone help this Suzy Kendall vehicle as a World War One German spy going head-to-head with Brit Kenneth More and taking time out for romantic dalliance with Capucine.
(4) The Last Showgirl (2024). Pamela Anderson proves she can act and how in this touching portrayal of a fading Las Vegas dancer.
(9) Squad 36 / Bastion 36 (2025). Corruption and interdepartmental rivalry fuel this French flic directed by Olivier Marchal.
(8) Once Upon a Time in the West (1969). Along with The Searchers (1956) now considered the most influential western of all time. Sergio Leone rounds up Claudia Cardinale, Henry Fonda and Charles Bronson and that fabulous Morricone score.
(32) Age of Consent (1969). Helen Mirren frolics nude in her debut as the freewheeling damsel drawn to disillusioned painter James Mason.
(16) A Dandy in Aspic (1968). Cold War thriller with Laurence Harvey as a double agent who wants out. Mia Farrow co-stars.
(New Entry) Our Man in Marrakesh / Bang! Bang! You’re Dead (1966). Humorous spy offering with Tony Randall and Senta Berger.
(7) Fireball XL5. The famous British television series (1962-1963) from Gerry and Sylvia Anderson, now colorized. “My heart will be a fireball…”
(14) 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.
(New Entry) The Chapman Report (1962). Jane Fonda, Claire Bloom and Shelley Winters lead this investigation into contemporary sexual mores.
(18) The Family Way (1966). Hayley Mills comes of age in this very adult drama. Co-starring her father John Mills and Hywel Bennett.
(21) The Appointment (1969). Inhibited lawyer Omar Sharif discovers the secrets of wife Anouk Aimee in under-rated and little-seen Italian-set drama from Sidney Lumet.
(23) Pressure Point (1962). Nazi extremist Bobby Darin causes chaos for psychiatrist Sidney Poitier. Stunning dream sequences.
(11) Jessica (1962). Angie Dickinson doesn’t mean to cause trouble but as a young widow arriving in a small Italian town she causes friction, so much so the local wives for on a sex strike.
(16) Pharoah (1966). Polish epic set in Egypt sees the country’s ruler at odds with the religious hierarchy.
(12) Young Cassidy (1965). Julie Christie came out of this best, winning her role in Doctor Zhivago as a result. Rod Taylor as Irish playwright Sean O’Casey.
(30) The Sisters (1969). Incest rears its head as Nathalie Delon and Susan Strasberg ignore husbands and lovers in favor of each other.
(New Entry) Signpost to Murder (1964). Joanne Woodward trapped in a millhouse with escaped lunatic Stuart Whitman in twisty thriller.
(23) Istanbul Express (1968). Gene Barry plays a weird numbers game in spy thriller that sets him up against Senta Berger.
(13) Thank You Very Much/ A Touch of Love (1969). Sandy Dennis dazzles as an academic single mother in London impregnated by Ian McKellen.
(New Entry) Five Card Stud (1968). Gambler Dean Marin faces off against preacher Robert Mitchum and a serial killer in Henry Hathaway western also featuring Inger Stevens.
(20) Go Naked in the World (1961). Gina Lollobrigida finds that love for a wealthy playboy clashes with her profession (the oldest). Look out for highly emotional turn from the usually taciturn Ernest Borgnine.
(37) The Demon / Il Demonio (1963). Extraordinary performance by Daliah Lavi in Italian drama as she produces the performance of her career.
(17) Claudelle Inglish (1961). Diane McBain seeks revenge for being stood up at the altar in the Deep South.
(27) Fathom (1967). When not dodging the villains in an entertaining thriller, Raquel Welch models a string of bikinis as a skydiver caught up in spy malarkey.
(24) Pendulum (1968). Fast-rising cop George Peppard accused of murdering unfaithful wife Jean Seberg
(New Entry) They Came to Rob Las Vegas (1968). Gary Lockwood and Elke Sommer head up a heist thriller.
(19) Vendetta for the Saint (1969). Prior to James Bond, Roger Moor was better known as television’s The Saint. Two television episodes combined sees our hero tackle the Mafia.
(39) Operation Crossbow (1965). George Peppard is the man with the mission in Occupied France during World War Two. Co-stars Sophia Loren.
(25) The Sins of Rachel Cade (1961) Angie Dickinson (again) as African missionary falling foul of the natives and Commissioner Peter Finch. Roger Moore (again) in an early role.
(15) The Girl on a Motorcycle / Naked under Leather (1968). How much you saw of star Marianne Faithfull depended on where you saw it. The U.S. censor came down heavily on the titular fantasizing heroine, the British censor more liberal. Alain Delon co-stars.
(New Entry) The Battle of the Villa Florita (1965). Maureen O’Hara runs off to Italy to join lover Rossano Brazzi. When her kids follow, trouble ensues,
(New Entry) Assignment K (1967). Stephen Boyd in spy caper tangles romantically with Camilla Sparv and is on the receiving end of some tough thugs.
(New entry) Sands of the Kalahari (1965). Stanley Baker, Stuart Whitman and Susannah York are stranded in the desert. Instead of working together, it’s every person for themselves.
(New Entry) The Double Man (1967). Yul Brynner is the target for a kidnapping plot in complex spy thriller co-starring Britt Ekland.
(42) The Chalk Garden (1964). Wild child Hayley Mills, trying to break out of her Disney straitjacket, duels with governess Deborah Kerr.
(26) Diamond Head (1962). Over-ambitious hypocritical landowner Charlton Heston comes unstuck in love, politics and business in Hawaii. George Chakiris, Yvette Mimieux and France Nuyen turn up the heat.
(New entry) Gunn (1967). Blake Edwards turns hit television series into a movie with star Craig Stevens.
(45) A Fine Pair (1968). Rock Hudson and Claudia Cardinale join forces for a heist picture.
(New Entry) 4 for Texas (1963). Only Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin survive from the Rat Pack, but Ursula Andress and Anita Ekberg more than compensate in Robert Aldrich fun western.
(32) Farewell, Friend / Adieu L’Ami (1968). A star is born – at least in France, the States was a good few years behind in recognizing the marquee attractions of Charles Bronson. Alain Delon co-stars in twisty French heist thriller featuring Olga Georges-Picot and Brigitte Fossey.
(35) Once a Thief (1965). Ann-Margret again, in a less sexy incarnation, as a working mother whose ex-jailbird thief Alain Delon takes a detour back into crime.
(36) Woman of Straw (1964). More Hitchockian goings-on as Sean Connery tries to frame Gina Lollobrigida in a dubious scheme.
(New Entry) Jason and the Argonauts (1963). Ray Harryhausen steals the show in cracking fantasy.
(29) The Golden Claws of the Cat Girl (1968). Cults don’t come any sexier than Daniele Gaubert as a French cat burglar.
(New Entry) The Flight of the Phoenix (1965). When James Stewart, Richard Attenborough, Peter Finch and Hardy Kruger crash in the desert they come up with an ingenious plan to escape. Robert Aldrich directs.
(51) Prehistoric Women / Slave Girls (1967). Martine Beswick attempts to steal the Raquel Welch crown as Hammer tries to repeat the success of One Million Years B.C.
(43) Dark of the Sun / The Mercenaries (1968). Rod Taylor’s guns-for-hire break out the action in war-torn Africa. Jim Brown and Yvette Mimieux co-star.
(31) Moment to Moment (1966). Hitchcockian thriller set in Hitchcock country – the South of France – as unfaithful Jean Seberg is on the hook for the murder of her lover. Also featuring Honor Blackman.
(New Entry) The Red Tent (1969). Sean Connery adds his weight to a rescue mission for an airship crashed in the Arctic. Based on a true story. Claudia Cardinale and Peter Finch co-star.
(New Entry) The Best House in London (1969). David Hemmings heads up a moralistic tale of rescuing sex workers in Victorian London.
(New Entry) The Sons of Katie Elder (1965). John Wayne and Dean Martin join forces to find out what happened to their mother in top-notch Henry Hathaway western.
(New Entry) Anatomy of a Fall (2024). Critically-acclaimed artie thriller starring Oscar-nominated Sandra Huller. The screenplay took the Oscar as well.
(New Entry) Invitation to a Gunfighter (1964). Yul Brynner cleans up the town in under-rated western. Janice Rule adds interest.
(34) Genghis Khan (1965). Omar Sharif as the titular warrior up against Stephen Boyd. Co-starring James Masion and Francoise Dorleac. Robert Morley is hilariously miscast as the Chinese Emperor.
(33) Horizon: An American Saga – Chapter 1 (2024). Kevin Costner’s majestic western that became one of the biggest flops of the year was underrated in my opinion.
(New Entry) Mickey One (1965). Cult Arthur Penn thriller with Warren Beatty as comedian on the run.
(New Entry) House of Cards (1968). Ex-boxer George Peppard gets tangled up in an international fascist conspiracy and with Ingrid Stevens. Orson Welles has a cameo.
(41) Can Heironymus Merkin Ever Forget Mercy Humpe and Find True Happiness? Fellini would turn in his grave at the self-indulgence of singer Anthony Newley who manages to lament that women falling at his feet cause him so much strife. Joan Collins co-stars.
(New entry) Rough Night in Jericho (1967). Corrupt lawman Dean Martin tangles with George Peppard in under-rated western Jean Simmons is the woman who comes between them.
(New Entry) Deadlier than the Male (1967). Richard Johnson as Bulldog Drummond in the clutches of femme fatales of Elke Sommer and Sylva Koscina.
(New entry) The Undefeated (1969). John Wayne and Rock Hudson duke it out in superb Civil War western directed by Andrew V. McLaglen.
(New Entry) Ten Little Indians (1965). Agatha Christie whodunnit. Hugh O’Brian and Shirley Eaton are among the suspects.
(New Entry) The Trouble with Angels (1966). Hayley Mills has the nuns on the run as she causes chaos at a convent school run by Rosalind Russell.
(New Entry) 633 Squadron (1964). You remember the soaring score more than the performances of Cliff Robertson and George Chakiris in World War Two aerial mission.
(New Entry) Black Butterflies (2022). Twisty French mini-series majoring on sex and murder in enjoyable film noir throwback.
(New Entry) The Shoes of the Fisherman (1968). Anthony Quinn is the unlikely candidate for the Papacy in Vatican drama co-starring Laurence Olivier, Oskar Werner and David Janssen.
(44) La Belle Noiseuse (1991). Emmanuelle Beart is the mostly naked model taking painter Michel Piccoli to his artistic limits.
(48) The Venetian Affair (1966). Robert Vaughn investigates spate of suicide bombs. Elke Sommer provides the glamor.
(New Entry) Bandolero! (1968). James Stewart and brother Dean Martin team up with Raquel Welch to evade George Kennedy’s posse in another Andrew V. McLaglen under-rated western.
(46) Lady in Cement (1969). Raquel Welch models more bikinis as the gangster’s moll taken on as a client by private eye Frank Sinatra in his second outing as Tony Rome.
(49) 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. Senta Berger in an early role.
(New Entry) Lost Command (1966). Algerian War picture sets Anthony Quinn and Alain Delon against George Segal.
(38) Guns of Darkness (1962). David Niven and Leslie Caron on the run from South American revolutionaries.
(New Entry) The Adventurers (1970). Adaptation of a Harold Robbins bestseller so it’s sex and violence and more sex as playboy Bekim Fehmiu turns revolutionary. Co-stars Charles Aznavour, Candice Bergen and Leigh Taylor-Young.
(New Entry) The Way West (1967). Andrew V. McLaglen again with an under-rated western again starring Kirk Douglas, Robert Mitchum, Richard Widmark on the long trail. .
(New Entry) One Million Years B.C. (1966). Ray Harryhausen’s models cede center stage to Raquel Welch in a fur bikini in the picture that launched her career..
(40) She Died with Her Boots On / Whirlpool (1969). More sleaze than cult. Spanish director Jose Ramon Larraz’s thriller sees kinky photographer Karl Lanchbury targeting real-life MTA Vivien Neves.
(New Entry) The Hawaiians / Master of the Islands (1962). Charlton Heston picks up where Hawaii (1966) left off and it’s chock full of corruption, racism and misogyny.
(New Entry) Subterfuge (1968). CIA agent Gene Barry hunts a mole in British MI5. Joan Collins lends a hand.
(47) Carry On Up the Khyber (1968). The most successful of the Carry On satires poking fun at the British in India.
(New Entry) Mirage (1965). Compelling thriller with Gregory Peck convinced he’s suffering from amnesia.
(New Entry) The War Lord (1965). Very realistic historical drama directed by Franklin Schaffner with Charlton Heston defending his land from invaders.
(New Entry) Petla (2020), Cracking Polish thriller as a cop loses his way in a world of sex, bribery and corruption.
(New Entry) Two for the Road (1967). Audrey Hepburn and Albert Finney try to get their marriage off the rocks by retracing their romantic steps when younger.
(New Entry) Battle of the Bulge (1965). World War Two epic filmed in Cinerama with a topline cast including Henry Fonda, Robert Shaw, Charles Bronson and Telly Savalas.
(New Entry) Sodom and Gomorrah (1962). Robert Aldrich biblical epic sees Stewart Granger facing off against treachery. Co-stars Pier Angeli, Rossana Podesta and Stanley Baker.
(New Entry) Joy in the Morning (1965). Touching romance starring Richard Chamberlain and Yvette Mimieux.
(New Entry) The Appaloosa / Southwest to Sonora (1966). Striking performance from Marlon Brando trying to recover a horse stolen by Mexican bandit John Saxon. Interesting western from Sidney J Furie.
(New Entry) The Titanic (1997). I saw this on reissue in 3D and was knocked out all over again.
(New Entry) Lonely Are the Brave (1962). Prison escape picture featuring cowboy Kirk Douglas who can’t cope with the modern world. Walter Matthau co-stars.
(New Entry) The Woman Who Wouldn’t Die / Catacombs (1965). Cult director Gordon Hessler at his best with husband Gary Merrill finding out trying to kill wife Georgina Cookson isn’t as easy as he expected.
(New Entry) The Lost World (1960). Arthur Conan Doyle fantasy features dinosaurs plus Michael Rennie and Jill St John.
(New Entry) Mackenna’s Gold (1969). J. Lee Thompson big-budget western treasure hunt starring Gregory Peck, Omar Sharif, Telly Savalas, Camilla Sparv, Eli Wallach, lee J Cobb, Edward G Robinson, Julie Newmar and Eli Wallach.
(New Entry) Beat Girl / Wild for Kicks (1960). Teenager Gillian Hills prefers becoming a striptease artist rather than hanging out with her pals in Soho milk bars. Cult with a capital C.
(New Entry) Some Girls Do (1969). Sequel to Deadlier than the Male and Richard Johnson has no easier time of it with Daliah Lavi and Beba Loncar preferring murder to seduction.

Celebrating Hitting 50,000 Views Per Month and the Annual Shameless Xmas Plug for My Books

Normally around this time of year I’m – to use a Scottish expression – “bumming my load”, that is, boasting (there’s no other word for it if I’m being honest) about all the books I’ve written which IMHO you should be putting on your Xmas list.

But this time it’s different – because I’m “bumming your load.”

This time I’m celebrating your input into my humble Blog.

Last month I hit 50,000 views and this month I’ve already passed that figure.

So these kind of stats are phenomenal and though I contribute by doing the writing the bigger part in this is down to you, the reader, who has remained with me constantly and clearly informed others about the Blog.

When I first started the Blog I had no idea I’d still be writing it five years later. In the early days I was lucky if I could attract 200 views a month. Gradually, my figures crept up, but still nothing really to boast about. Every year I seemed to attract more views. By May this year I was at 10,000 views a month.

And then the Blog just exploded.

To go from 10,000 a month to 50,000 a month in just six months is beyond my comprehension. At this rate I’ll be easily surpassing half a million a year.

And this is all without the help of social media. I don’t post on Instagram, X or Facebook. I’m not on Rotten Tomatoes or any other critic-friendly or aggregate site.

The only place you can find my Blog is where you’re supposed to find it – on WordPress.

My Xmas has come early so many thanks to you all.

Now back to the shameless stuff. My latest book King of the Action Thriller – Films from the Mind of Alistair MacLean has been a long time coming but now it’s at the final stages of editing and is due out in February 2026. MacLean’s imagination, you might recall, was responsible for, among others, The Guns of Navarone, Where Eagles Dare, Breakheart Pass, Bear Island, Ice Station Zebra, Fear Is the Key and Puppet on a Chain.

I even found a long-lost screenplay he wrote that was never made. Eighteen of his books found their way onto the big and small screen.

You can order King of the Action Thriller it direct from the publisher McFarland or on Amazon and other sites and bookshops.

If you fancy going further into films of the 1960s I can recommend some other books to you. Admittedly, these are all books I’ve written but I did say this was a shameless plug.

Here are some of the titles:

The Making of The Magnificent Seven – Behind the Scenes of the Pivotal Western;

The Making of The Guns of Navarone;

The Making of Lawrence of Arabia;

The Gunslingers of ’69 – Western Movies’ Greatest Year;

and The Magnificent ‘60s – The 100 Most Popular Films of a Revolutionary Decade.

If you’re interested in more about the actual business of the movies you could dip into my books about reissues/re-releases and how Hollywood came to release new movies everywhere all at once. Check out my 250,000-word tome Coming Back to a Theater Near You, A History of Hollywood Reissue 1914-2014 and In Theaters Everywhere, A History of the Hollywood Wide Release 1913-2017.

I’m in the process of making available in printed form the reviews from the Blogs. I originally published these under the title 1960s Movies Redux but I’ve revamped these to now include illustrations and they’ll be available shortly in paperback and Kindle format under the title 1960s Movies Vol 1 (then Vol 2, Vol 3 etc).

Happy reading and Happy Xmas.

Thanks once again to all my readers.

Behind the Scenes: “The Learning Tree” (1969)

I am indebted to one of my regular correspondents, who goes by the name of “Fenny100,” for the following “Behind the Scenes” report:

The working title of the picture was Learn, Baby, Learn. Based on his 1963 autobiographical novel, The Learning Tree, it marked the feature film debut of Gordon Parks, who was the first African American staff photographer for Life magazine. With the making of The Learning Tree, Parks became the first African American to direct a major theatrical motion picture. Parks had previously directed “several short film subjects and two one-hour features for National Education Television” (New York Times, 2 April 1968). The project was five years in the making (Variety, 17 April 1964), the writer-director in talks with producers interested in optioning his book. Two independent producers first acquired film rights (New York Times, 17 August 1969) but they were unable to raise the necessary funds. Another producer allegedly offered Parks $75,000 to adapt the script, with the stipulation that he must rewrite the black characters as white. Parks declined.

At some point, Bob Hope’s daughter, Linda Hope, was interested in producing the adaptation, (Variety, 7 November 1968). Parks’ friend, filmmaker John Cassavetes (Shadows, 1958), introduced his work to Kenneth Hyman, an executive at Warner Bros.—Seven Arts, Inc., which ultimately funded the production, although Cassavetes accidentally gave Hyman a copy of Parks’ 1966 memoir A Choice of Weapons rather than The Learning Tree. Hyman became enthusiastic about working with Parks and reportedly struck a four-picture deal with him within a fifteen-minute meeting. The Warner Bros.—Seven Arts deal (Variety, 1 April 1968) referred to Parks as “the first negro in film history to direct a major feature for a major film company.”

Also a well-respected musician, Parks was set to write the score, which (Variety, 12 July 1968) entailed a four-movement symphony. The production budget was set at slightly less than $2 million (Variety, 25 June 1969) and Parks was slated to receive twenty-five per cent of any profits (Los Angeles Times, 19 October 1969).

Principal photography was scheduled to begin on 30 September 1968 in Parks’ hometown of Fort Scott, Kansas, (“Production Chart,” Variety, 27 September 1968). Problems arose when the film crew, including six African Americans, began shooting in the town (Variety, 7 November 1968), a report which implied that the difficulties arose from racial tension. A later article (Variety, 25 June 1969) noted that there were twelve black crew members, not six, and blamed the tension between locals and filmmakers on the fact that Fort Scott residents wrongly assumed The Learning Tree was a “dirty film.” Parks said that shooting there eventually worked well, and that the local Elks Club admitted African Americans for the first time at a party thrown for the cast and crew. Parks was given a key to the city by local officials, and “Gordon Parks Day” was declared in early November 1968.

Following five-and-a-half weeks in Fort Scott, cast and crew moved to the Warner Bros.—Seven Arts studio lot in Burbank, California, where another two-and-a-half weeks of principal photography was scheduled, beginning in mid-November 1968. On 11 December 1968, Variety confirmed that filming had been completed.

Although William Conrad acted as executive producer throughout the shoot, his name was removed from the credits (Variety, 19 June 1969), though it was later explained that Conrad had agreed to help but wanted no credit, since The Learning Tree was “Gordon’s story.”

In discussing the small contingent of African Americans on his crew, Parks said (New York Times, 17 August 1969), “I hired 12 Negroes to work on the production. It was a fight, because the Hollywood unions are all white, but I got enormous cooperation from Warners.” The studio hired a black electrician, Gene Simpson, for the first time in its history (Los Angeles Sentinel, 13 March 1969), while publicist Vincent Tubbs – the only black union head as the president of the Hollywood Publicists Guild – worked on the film. Parks’ son, Gordon Parks, Jr., acted as still photographer. Seven African American craftsmen worked on the film (Box Office, 28 October 1968).

The Learning Tree was first screened on 18 Jun 1969 at a Warner Bros.—Seven Arts press junket held in Freeport, in the Bahamas (Variety, 18 June 1969). Following its debut there, Variety (25 June 1969) suggested that Parks’ “viewpoint on America and its racial problems” in the 1920s-set film might be negatively received by “black militants and other radical types.” Parks contended that black militants had been purposely planted in preview screenings, and although they had sometimes laughed at inappropriate times, they had generally congratulated him for his accomplishment. Parks stated, “But actually, I don’t care what they think. This is my story. I believe that in the black revolution there is a need for everyone.”

Despite the film’s perceived innocence, it received an M-rating (suggested for mature audiences) from the Motion Picture Association of America (Variety, 16 July 1969). It was due to have its world premiere on 6 Aug 1969 at the Trans-Lux East and West arthouses in New York City (Variety, 30 July 1969). Early reviews were mixed. Although the studio had initially planned a slow rollout of the film in arthouse theaters, its success at the more commercial Trans-Lux West – and relative failure at the Trans-Lux East – indicated the picture would play better at larger, inner-city theaters (Variety, 10 September 1969). A new “playoff pattern” was devised to take advantage of its box-office potential at theaters known for action films and other commercial fare.

Within seventeen weeks of release, cumulative box office gross topped $1.327 million from just 27 theaters (Variety, 5 November 1969).

At Los Angeles at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, where The Learning Tree opened on 20 August 1969, a large fiberglass sycamore tree – which the studio planned to donate to the Crippled Children’s Society of Los Angeles County once the film’s run was complete – was built around the box office (Variety, 18 August 1969)

The Learning Tree was the U.S. entry at the Edinburgh Film Festival running 24 August – 7 September 1969. It won the Blue Ribbon Award from the National Screen Council in the U.S. for the month of September. The film went on to garner accolades including the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) Image Awards for Best Picture (in a tie with Joanna, 1968) Best Director, Best Actress in a Feature (Estelle Evans), and Most Promising Young Actor and Actress (Kyle Johnson and Alex Clarke).

Parks received an Annual Achievement Award from the Foundation for Research and Education in Sickle Cell Disease of New York City; an Achievement Award from the city of Cleveland, Ohio, presented by Cleveland Mayor Carl Stokes on the 24 September 1969 Cleveland premiere; and a Certificate of Merit from the Southern California Motion Picture Council, which also named the film a “Picture of Outstanding Merit.”

On the commercial front, the picture was a solid hit, raking in $1.5 million in rentals (what the studio earns after cinemas have taken their cut) in the annual box office chart (“Big Rental Films of ’69,” Variety, 7 January 1970).

Parks received honorary degrees from Boston University and Fairfield University in Connecticut. A week-long Gordon Parks Festival, also featuring Shaft (1971) and Shaft’s Big Score (1972), ran at Kansas State University in 1973.

Twenty years after its release, in 1989, it became one of the first twenty-five films selected for inclusion in the Library of Congress’ newly founded National Film Registry.

Selling Paul Newman: Pressbook for “Sweet Bird of Youth” (1962)

The big buzzword in movie marketing back in the day was “pre-sold.” The reason Hollywood pumped so much money into buying up the rights to bestsellers and Broadway hits was the notion that they came with a built-in audience, either of readers of theater-goers, and without any substantive proof made the connection that anyone who had read the book or seen the play or musical would be only too desperate to see what a movie maker made of the piece. In the 1960s, as I pointed out in a previous article, Hollywood had discovered the paperback tie-in, which marketing hacks perceived as free advertising, since those book covers would go on display in over a 100,000 book outlets across the country.

Even so, it comes as something of a surprise to see how dependent the marketeers writing the 16-page A3 Pressbook/Marketing Manual were on drawing cinema managers’ attention to the fact that Sweet Bird of Youth had originated on the stage. The three main articles in the Pressbook either went with “repeats role” or made mention in the headline of its origins. Admittedly, it had been a hit on Broadway, and with Paul Newman attached, ran for over a year – its poor performance on tour was naturally omitted. The opening article sensibly went to promoting Tennessee Williams. This was deemed “one of his greatest hits” and moviegoers would certainly be aware of his name thanks to Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958) and Suddenly, Last Summer (1959), both big hits.

However, given that Geraldine Page was the female lead and Oscar-nominated the previous year for Summer and Smoke, it seems odd that more column inches are devoted to third female lead Madeleine Sherwood with second female lead Shirley Knight overlooked except for a couple of postage-stamp-sized photos.

The “distinguished cast” notion was pushed much in the same way as trailers these days will promote anyone with the slightest brush with the Academy Awards.

“People have wondered why I had to work so hard to repeat a role I had done for more than a year in New York,” said Newman. “My only answer is that during the entire Broadway run of the play, Geraldine Page and I worked and rehearsed every day as if we were preparing for first night.” Despite his box office success he nurtured other ambitions. “ I want to be behind the camera. I’ve got my sights on directing. But I’ll start only when I think I know enough.”

*The first stab at artwork was less sensational than the final posters.*

The marketeers fell in line with the notion now being touted in Hollywood that, despite leaving Geraldine Page out in the cold for seven years after she starred opposite John Wayne in Hondo (1954), was “a major talent to be reckoned with by fans and critics alike.”

Commented Page, “I played Sweet Bird and Summer and Smoke on stage for long so that I felt I knew the heroines Alexandra Del Lago (Sweet Bird of Youth) and Alma Winemuller (Summer and Smoke) as well as if they had been sisters of mine. This long-lived familiarity with a part might make some actresses feel cluttered but but it was a great comfort to me…You can work with them forever and never get bored…the longer you get to know them the more you become fascinated with them.”

And what was it, exactly, that was so fascinating about Madeleine Sherwood? It was the fact that she was a method actress, as though this was still big news after being known for over a decade. She explained that “emotional memory” as proposed by Lee Strasberg, method acting’s most famous proponent, was the key to her acting.

Pressbooks always tax the ingenuity of the marketeers who have to dream up snippets which might interest a local newspaper editor. Here we learn that virtually all the cast were blue-eyed, “associated with genius” according to the Pressbook team. For the scenes in which Newman drove a car – on a sound stage no less – he drove 600 miles without hitting a real road. We learned that Newman once wore a beard in a stage show in his early years and that Page once played an old crone also on stage. Also that Page was a dab hand a wearing a negligee, having spent time in her “lean years” working as a model in a negligee factory on Seventh Avenue.

It would appear that there was a difference of opinion when it came right down to it about which advert – there were four to choose from – would lead the advertising pack. The Pressbook led with the tagline – “the big difference between people is not between the rich an’ the poor. The Big difference is between those who have ecstasy in love and those who haven’t.” Instead the team responsible for the posters went with the shorter, “He used love like most men use money.”

That tagline originated from a longer one, that more or less told the story of the movie. “Here he is right up on top of the gaudy world he swore he’d conquer. He’s got a movie contract in his pocket, a fish-tailed convertible in the hotel garage and a dame in his room payin’ for the drinks. He’s Chance Wayne who used love like most men use money!”

The speedboat that makes a brief appearance was central to the marketing campaign. Theater owners were urged to arrange tie-ins with local distributors of not just boats but boat engines. This was on the back of the Dumphy Boat Co of Oshkosh, Wisconsin, providing a $10,000 luxury speed boat for the shoot and because the Scott Racing Team supplied the $200,000 engine that powered it. Claims that the movie contained one of the greatest-ever telephone calls ever committed to celluloid provided the marketeers with an excuse to suggest a tie-in with a local telephone company.

Some ideas were more random. Because Newman wore a watch and Page a fur, tie-ins were suggested with those manufacturers. For no particular reason, except that she used them in her ordinary life, Shirley Knight was associated with cosmetics, perfumes and sportswear

A bit more imaginative was the idea of running a one-act play competition with a local dramatic group. A “Tennessee Williams Week” could be promoted through local libraries. A paperback version of the play had been published by the New American Library.

Actually, the biggest element of the Pressbook was the advertising. Twelve pages out of the sixteen were devoted to adverts in various shapes and sizes, that variety important because in those days cinema owners simply cut out the advert they required and passed it on to a newspaper to make up the advert to run there.

Behind the Scenes: The L-Shaped Street of Dreams, Part II

In theory by the time I discovered the cavernous Green’s Playhouse – the largest cinema in Europe with 4,368 seats and nearly double the size of any other picture house in the city – it should have been entering a cinematic twilight zone. Its glory days were long gone. Situated at the top of Renfield St, which itself sat at a 90-degree angle to Sauchiehall St (thus forming the L-Shape of the title), it had, on opening in 1927, been the epitome of luxury, built with remarkable foresight by the Green family, rather than one of the major chains, ushering in the era of the “super cinema” just in time to meet the demand for the Talkies.

Seats were color-coded according to price and there were “Golden Divans” in boxes for courting couples. It stood out at night through an electric-bulb vertical American-style sign. Business boomed until post-war the cinema began losing out to the major chains in the competition for the best films. By the time I made my first visit it was surviving on exploitation and horror. It was the shabbiest of giants, carpets torn, seats badly in need of reupholstering and a distinct lack of atmosphere.

The only time I ever witnessed anything approaching a full house was for a screening of a full-length showing of the European Cup Final of 1967 when Glasgow’s Celtic beat Inter Milan. But there was a light around the corner in the form of pop concerts and its size allowed it to take over from the Odeon as the venue of choice for touring bands. My best memories are not of seeing a great movie there but of watching a roster of the top bands, The Rolling Stones, The Who and Elton John. It’s the only city center venue which continued plying its trade as a movie merchant and eventually was turned into the Cineworld multiplex, the busiest cinema in Britain.

About 100 yards down Renfield St on the same side of the road was the 1314-seat Regent. Originally, in 1911 it was less than half that size, built for comfort over one storey with stadium seating. Remodelled in 1920 it gained an extra floor and partly by installing a balcony doubled the seating. It was very thrifty where the lobby was concerned. You were virtually at the ticket desk the minute you stepped through the frontage.

It was the only cinema I knew where the programme showed the times of the trailers and newsreels. Like the Playhouse its days of vying for top product with the Odeon, ABC Regal and La Scala were long gone. Now it was primarily a second-run establishment and virtually the minute a movie completed its allocated assignation at the Odeon it was shipped into the Regent. Once in a while, by local mandate, it showed a new film. As long as you were willing to wait a week or possibly two, you could see a top film for less money. It was very comfortable and well run.

Less than 20 yards further down, on the same side of the road, was the majestic 2784-seat Odeon, certainly from the outside the most stylish of the city center houses thanks to its Art Deco design. Oddly enough, despite the Odeon chain’s association with Art Deco, it wasn’t built by Odeon. Instead it was commissioned by the American Paramount organization, at a time when studios also owned cinemas, opening on 31 December, 1934.

It was Glasgow’s first free-standing cinema built from scratch rather than being a conversion of an existing building. It was the size of a city block. As well as erecting the largest neon sign the city had ever seen atop the building, it also imported another American idea, a box office outside the cinema. At the outbreak of war Paramount sold the operation to Odeon and it became its Scottish flagship. This was the key first-run location for films by United Artists, Twentieth Century Fox, Disney and Columbia. Such was the demand for screenings that hardly any films during the 1960s – the Bonds a notable exception – were held over for a second week, in part because Rank had to feed movies into its suburban circuits.

In 1970 the cinema was tripled, which allowed the cinema to double as a roadshow house, and operate more strategically, by switching movies from the bigger to the smaller cinemas to extend their city center runs. It opened with Cromwell in roadshow at Odeon 1, Airport at Odeon 2 and The Virgin and the Gypsy at Odeon 3. Theoretically this increased the flow of films through the Odeon operation, but in reality as often, when two or three long-runners came along at once, the system ground to a halt. I became very familiar with this operation when I had my first stint as a critic, reviewing films for the Glasgow University Guardian.

Another 50 yards down the street on the opposite side of the road was one of my favorite hangouts – the Classic – which, as the name suggests, specialized in reruns of old pictures. Much as I enjoyed spending time checking out the reissues, I would have loved to have been around for its initial iteration when it was known as Cranston’s De Luxe Cinema, an 850-seater opened in 1916 by the same Miss Cranston whose tearooms had been designed by renowned Scottish architect Charles Rennie Mackintosh.

It occupied the third floor of a stylish six-storey building and screened first-run movies in opulent fashion. When business declined after the Second World War it was sold twice, first to the Greens who added a newsreel cinema. Classic bought it over in 1960 and ran it as a repertory house, adding late night films. You felt like you were climbing to the stars, it was a long haul to enter but it was well upholstered inside and they ran a huge range of older films, often double bills and sometimes changing the programme midweek. It was far more useful in my movie education than the arthouse. In 1969 the venue added a smaller operation, the Tatler, showing sexier fare as a “members only” club. It only came into being because the Grand Central in Jamaica St had folded in 1966 (it reopened in 1973 giving Glasgow three soft porn emporiums).

That was the saddest decline tale of any of the Glasgow cinemas. Opened in 1915, the 750-seat Grand Central was an instant hit, classy enough to have an orchestra and technically the first city cinema to feature sound, which emanated from records playing simultaneously with the film. Even when it hit tougher times in the 1950s it attempted to go down the arthouse route but eventually succumbed to sexploitation

The connecting roads of Sauchiehall St and Renfield St should form the boundary for my L-Shaped Street of Dreams but if I had continued about a mile in a straight line from the end of Renfield St I would come to another palace of splendor, a roadshow kingdom, home to 70mm and Cinerama two-shows-a-day advance bookable productions which, like The Dirty Dozen (1967) and Where Eagles Dare (1968) enjoyed nine-month runs. The Coliseum opened in 1905 as a music hall seating 2893 over three levels. It became a cinema in 1925 and played host in 1929 to the first talkie The Jazz Singer which caused a sensation. In 1962, reducing eating capacity to 1300 after an expensive revamp, it reopened as the only cinema in Scotland showing Cinerama.

Behind the Scenes: The L-Shaped Street of Dreams

We all did it – or so I’m guessing. Head into our city center and take a long walk past all the big cinemas and stare at the posters and stills on display outside the cinema and peek inside to the far wall where was a smaller poster for what was coming next week. Of course, we could just have checked out the daily newspaper and spotted what each house was offering. But that wasn’t the same.

In Glasgow, Scotland, where I grew up, the main cinemas were conveniently situated along an L-Shaped drag of the city’s two chief shopping districts that ran for about a mile, abutted by the two main train stations, Charing Cross at one end, and the terminus of Central Station at the other. On Saturday afternoons I’d hop on a bus into town and take a stroll down my L-Shaped Street of Dreams.

Glasgow was a moviegoing mecca. It boasted the biggest cinema audiences in the whole of Britain on a per-head-of-population basis. Where Londoners might attend the cinema once every two months, Glaswegians turned up every two or three weeks. Green’s Playhouse was the biggest cinema in Britain and when the Odeon turned into a triple that was the busiest complex in Britain (a position that the Cineworld in Renfrew St held until its recent closure).

As far as this initial interest in moviegoing went, I’m talking the late 1960s/early 1970s, just at the start of multiplexing – the first of that breed appearing in 1967 and the second in 1970. And, unlike today, movies opened on a Monday for a six-day run with Sundays given over to a separate one-day double bill, usually of the exploitation/horror variety and generally an oldie. There were no split weeks in the city center movie houses. At the time of which I speak, the program changed every week. It was rare in the 1960s for a movie to be retained (held over) for a second week and even rarer for a third. Though that changed with the advent of the blockbuster in the 1970s when Love Story (1970), The Godfather (1972) and Jaws (1975) ran for months in one city center first run.

I always began my cinematic ramble in Sauchiehall St at the Charing Cross end which afforded me the opportunity, first of all, to peer into the relatively discreet windows of the Curzon Classic and take note of the risqué fare. This was by default an arthouse when the sexiest pictures available before the onset of more permissive movies all came from Europe. So, occasionally, you’d find it playing host to a genuine arty number that happened to contain whatever degree of nudity the British censor would permit. Eventually, it fessed up and became a members-only cinema where it could show whatever it wanted – though still within the strictures of the British Board of Film Censors, which meant no hard-core. Still, you were guaranteed that every movie shown was X-certificate.

The 450-seater Curzon Classic began life in 1912 as the Vitagraph before being renamed the Kings. In 1954, as the Newscine, it became the first cinema to specialize in newsreels. But that didn’t last long and, renamed Newcine, turned into a second-run house. The Classic chain, which ran a repertory outfit showing reissues, bought it in 1964. But this particular cinema strayed outside the normal Classic chain fare of older movies and tended to screen the kind of movies I mentioned.

A few hundred yards along and you came to the ABC Regal, one of the two biggest first run houses and local flagship of the ABC circuit. I learned much later on that the two most important British chains – the ABC and the Odeon – had separate exclusive deals with major Hollywood studios. So the ABC would only show pictures made by MGM, Paramount, Universal and Warner Bros while its rival ran pictures made by Twentieth Century Fox, Disney, Columbia and United Artists.

The Regal was one of the city’s first “super-cinemas,” opening on 13 November, 1929. The site had been entertainment-based since 1875 and successively had traded as the Diorama, The Panorama, the Ice Skating Palace (also showing movies from 1896) and The Hippodrome. For a quarter of a century from 1904 it hosted Hengler’s Circus and briefly was the Waldorf Palaise de Dance. The Regal had 2,359 seats. It changed its name to the ABC Regal in 1959. Occasionally, it doubled up as a roadshow house, My Fair Lady (1964) running there for several months.

In 1967 it was split in two. The Regal was renamed the ABC 1 and its more luxurious partner, a 922-seater, the ABC 2. The former continued to change its program every week but the latter was a roadshow venue, so movies ran there at least for a month – Ryan’s Daughter (1970) held the record of lasting a full year. Some pictures which went out on general release and on a 35mm print in the USA were blown up to 70mm and road shown in Britain, and it was here and in that format I saw The Wild Bunch (1969).

When roadshow was in short supply or an earlier movie had not performed to expectations and its run was curtailed, the ABC 2 would put on reruns of previous roadshow successes – in 1968 The Great Race (1965), Battle of the Bulge (1965) and Becket (1964) all had one-week stints in continuous performance.

Having a reputation for the moviegoing habit did not ensure that films arrived any faster in Glasgow. All movies of any distinction had their first showings in Britain in London’s West End and rarely went north until both that run was complete and it had played the North London and South London circuits.

Just round the corner from the ABC, off Sauchiehall St, in Rose St, was the Cosmo (reborn as the Glasgow Film Theatre in 1974). Not only was Glasgow viewed as a vibrant city for Hollywood pictures, but it was also reckoned to be a prime target for alternative cinema. Built in 1939, the Cosmo was the first purpose-built arthouse outside of London. Owned by George Singleton the 850-seater arthouse had a quirky “Mr Cosmo” logo.

As well as a weekly change of program of largely foreign movies, the Cosmo also occasionally hosted roadshows. While not falling in with the standard 70mm format, the Cosmo maintained the separate performance element of the roadshow. In 1967 it premiered the Burton-Taylor Shakespeare extravaganza The Taming of the Shrew, which lasted 12 weeks, and the Oscar-winning A Man for All Seasons which held court for eight weeks.

Further along Sauchiehall St was the 1,000-seat La Scala, dating from 1936 and, famously, with a café on the ground floor. This was the flagship for Caledonian Associated Cinemas, a chain that had more cinemas throughout Scotland than either ABC or Odeon and therefore was in a strong position to negotiate for first-run product. First-run pictures often enjoyed a two-week engagement here. Generally, it alternated between first and second run, pictures receiving a repeat outing a week or so after finishing a run at the ABC or Odeon. Occasionally, it went roadshow, it was separate performances in 1968 for a four-week run of Doctor Zhivago after its initial roadshow outing in the city. In the early 1970s when ABC was in dispute with Paramount over its rental terms, the La Scala obtained the rights to Love Story (1970) and it ran at the cinema on continuous performance for 26 weeks.

Opposite the La Scala was – until the ABC2 came along – Glasgow’s city center roadshow kingpin, the Gaumont, the Rank/Odeon chain’s roadshow flagship, which had played host to The Sound of Music for 134 weeks. Originally it was part of the Gaumont chain before being subsumed by Rank and merged with its existing Odeon circuit. It had opened in 1910 as The Picture House with a capacity of 1,084-seats and later expanded to accommodate 1,600 patrons. It was taken over by Gaumont in 1929 but the original name was retained until 1947. It became the city’s de facto venue for roadshows after being chosen to premiere Cecil B. DeMille’s The Ten Commandments (1956) in a run lasting four months and became internationally famous when South Pacific (1958) ran there for 18 months. Occasionally, it reverted to short runs in continuous performance such as, in 1968, Sgt Ryker with Lee Marvin.

This takes me to the halfway point of my stroll along my L-Shaped Street of Dreams. Next time I’ll be taking a turn both left and right from Sauchiehall St and going both up and down Renfield St.

Doctor in Trouble (1970) **

Limp ending to a fine series. Torpedoed by too many oddities. Leslie Philips returns in the top-billed role, but he’s not playing the suave Dr Gaston Grimsdyke of the previous iteration, but instead a more hapless version of Dr Paul Burke, the character he played a decade before in Doctor in Love (1960).

Confused? You will be. It’s clearly set up for James Robertson Justice to play two characters, a la Sinners (2025), his usual Sir Lancelot Spratt and his presumably identical brother, ship’s captain George Spratt. But Justice fell ill and the naval part was taken by Robert Morley, of similar bombastic ilk, but in diction more long-winded and fluffy and lacking the bite of the surgeon.

In the last two episodes I’d seen there had been an obnoxious salt-of-the-earth character who turned out to be surprisingly artistic. Here, we have to settle for the nouveau riche Pools-winner (a gambling game of the era) who is channeling his inner Sidney James, all leer and not much else. And if you want proof that it’s never a good idea to hire a television personality merely because he has a large following, look no further than Simon Dee.

Several notions will not endear themselves to the contemporary audience – the cross-dressing, the cliché gays, and the Englishman in brownface playing an Indian. That’s not to mention the pratfalls and endless falling into swimming pools.

There’s even less of a plot than in the last outing. Dr Burke (Leslie Philips) accidentally stows away on a cruise ship after pursuing model girlfriend Ophelia (Angela Scoular) who’s working there. He also comes up against actor Basil Beauchamp (Simon Dee), an old school bete noire, who plays a doctor in a television soap.

Dr Burke is hounded by the ship’s Master-at-Arms (Freddie Jones) so occasionally it lurches into farce. And there’s any number of sexy debutantes either desperate to climb into bed with the TV star or hook the gambler.

If it had settled on one tone – slapstick, sex comedy or farce – it might well have worked even in the face of the poor script. Cor blimey, there’s even some fleeting nudity from Ophelia and Leslie Philips and a striptease that’s way out of place for what was originally a much gentler comedy than the Carry Ons. In terms of style it’s all over the place and not a single member of the cast is appealing enough to rescue it.

Had Leslie Philips been in traditional “ding-dong” comfort zone it might have passed muster but here he’s just the butt of all the jokes without generating an ounce of sympathy. Robert Morley (Some Girls Do, 1969) isn’t a patch on James Robertson Justice. Angela Scoular (On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, 1969) seems off-key, Freddie Jones (Otley, 1969) as if he’s in a different picture while the constantly leering Harry Secombe (Oliver! 1968) belongs in a Carry On. Graham Stark (The Picasso Summer, 1969) is deplorable as the Indian waiter Satterjee.

The only person to rise above their station is Joan Sims (Doctor in Clover, 1966) who makes a cameo appearance as a Russian nurse. In bit parts you might spot Yutte Stensgaard (Zeta One, 1969) and Janet Mahoney in her debut.

Directed as usual by Ralph Thomas. Script by Jack Davies based on a Richard Gordon bestseller.

After this, the series was reimagined for television and returned to its gentle comedy roots.

For completists only – and even then…

It Takes a Thief / The Challenge (1960) ****

Extremely dark-edged thriller at least a decade ahead of its time. Absolute corker of a sting in the tail. Instead of being the gangster’s moll, Jayne Mansfield – following on from another British-made thriller Playgirl After Dark / Too Hot to Handle (1960) – turns the genre on its head by playing the smart leader of a gang of bank robbers constantly evading detection by the police. Anthony Quayle (East of Sudan, 1964) drops his good guy stiff upper lip screen persona in favor of a villain.

Most heist movies either fall into the category of mostly heist (Topkapi, 1964) and half-heist and half-aftermath. Here the heist is dealt with pretty quickly and then we’re into a complicated aftermath with double cross the order of the day. Even the supposed good guys – a cop and a union leader – have a distinctly mean streak. And on top of that we have a whole load of car chases. Just one would be unusual at the time for this budget category, but here we have three, complete with crashes and cars totaled off the road. And on top of that there’s an exceptionally creepy attempt at getting an inconvenient young child to commit suicide by playing chicken on a railway line.

Widowed lorry driver Jim (Anthony Quayle), who has dreams of owning a farm, is seduced into acting as the driver for the latest bank heist organized by Billy (Jayne Mansfield). While his van loaded with the loot tootles off unimpeded, she acts as bait in another car to snooker the cops into pursuing the rest of the gang. As proof of her love for him, she entrusts him with burying the loot in a place of his choosing.

He doesn’t get the chance to dig it up again because someone’s snitched on him, most likely Billy’s ex Kristy (Carl Mohner). And since he can’t snitch on the gang to save his own skin he ends up doing a five-year stretch. When he comes out, he finds the cops shadowing his every move, and Kristy taking his place in Billy’s bed. Det Sgt Gittens (Edward Judd) decides to play dirty by suggesting that Jim is intent on double-crossing her.

The gang, determined on recovering the loot as soon as possible, have their own arsenal of dirty tricks, beating up Jim’s mother and kidnapping his son. You’d think that with his mum black and blue and his son in the hands of the crooks that Jim would give up the loot. But, as I said, he’s not a good guy and is willing to risk all he supposedly holds dearly to get his hands on the dosh.

There’s a twist that Thunderbolt and Lightfoot (1974) later down the line exploit. Instead of someone building a school over the hiding place as with the Clint Eastwood picture, here it is hidden under dozens of barrels of high explosive encased in barbed wire. With the deadline approaching for killing his son, Jim attempts to enlist a bunch of local laborers only to be stopped in his tracks by the bureaucracy of a union shop steward.

Meanwhile, the couple, and despite all the motherliness of the childless wife (Barbara Mullen), forced to hide the child aren’t making the slightest attempt to help him escape. Instead, we watch with incredulity as one of the hoods, stumbling upon an easy way to get rid of a body, tempts the child into playing the aforementioned game of chicken.

Tension remains at a peak all the way through, in part because audiences are expecting Anthony Quayle to rouse himself from the depths of criminality and do the right thing, but mostly, in the template that Christopher Nolan would follow, three sets of narrative constantly come together.

There are two stings in the tail. Firstly, the burial site is obliterated when the barrels of high explosive shoot sky high. Secondly, with decided relish, Sgt Gittens informs Billy that the cops recovered the loot years before, so he’d risked mother and son for nothing. You can’t get blacker irony than that.

Jayne Mansfield was a much bigger attraction than Anthony Quayle and she puts in a superb performance as the mastermind and the practical woman, not willing to put career or love life on hold while Jim does his time. And while she’s slinky enough and occasionally brazen, she’s also decidedly human, but no more inclined than Jim to allow anybody to get in the way of the rewards of crime.

Like the crime pictures Britain showed a distinct aptitude for in the 1970s – Get Carter (1971), Villain (1971) and Sitting Target (1972) – this stays resolutely on the wrong side of the fence with not a single redeemable character.

Written and directed by John Gilling before he shifted into horror (The Reptile, 1966), this is a more than able piece, pulling no punches and resisting the temptation to sneak in any sentimentality.

Minor gem.

Catch it on Talking Pictures TV.