Guess Who?

Every now and then I come across a book and think this would make a good film. I’ve just finished this particular book and already I can see four movies in it.

A fellow, mostly what these days we’d term a nerd –  physically awkward, doesn’t have a girlfriend – a farmer’s son, but not in one of those rich prairie farms with corn as high as an elephant’s eye, but so dirt-poor there’s no electricity or running water, so poor he spend two years harnessed like a mule to a grader on back-breaking road work. His only education is a bare pass as the lowest grade of teacher’s college.

He takes a teaching job in a big town. The job is teaching public speaking and coaching the debating team. The debating team has never won anything, not even locally. Our fellow starts building student confidence. On his first day he has the students stand up in class and for ten seconds make animal noises. He encourages them to be silly – and not afraid. Everyone being silly is one way of helping the students bond. Even the shy kids don’t  mind being silly in public.

Then they were asked to make a 30-second speech on any subject. Then it was a minute, then five minutes. But by this stage, speeches had to be rehearsed. And kids couldn’t spout nonsense. They had to know their stuff. They had to research.

And once you were able to stand up in front of your fellow students for five minutes, the audience was encouraged to heckle and pick holes in your argument. But there was an odd thing, the kids liked the way he nagged away at them because it meant he cared. He had improved their social skills no end already and now he wanted to go further. Even the rebels sought his approval.

Of course, his fellow teachers had no idea what he was trying to do and mostly sniggered behind his back because he still looked like a gangly nerd.

Then the debating started. Kids willingly stayed in hours after class, declaiming, being heckled and nagged. Then our fellow did something unheard of. He sent his debating team out on tour, covering hundreds of miles. No one had ever seen the like, not even from the city or state champions. They went into informal “no-decision” contests with all the schools they might meet in a debating competition. The subject that year was the jury system so the teacher and the students researched the subject to death.

When the proper city championship began, the shy students discovered there was unexpected gold in all this hard work. They were treated as heroes. They were welcomed as visitors in other schools and when they came home the teacher ensured the local media was recording their success. They would get sent out individually to another school to talk on some subject and audiences were rapt. People applauded.

Initially, there was no public support. A debate on home soil might attract an audience of seven. But soon the debating hall filled up. Cheerleaders led the chanting and turned cartwheels the way they did for football games.

The city championship had been won by the same school four years in a row. This school had never, in its history, won. This time was the first.

Next came the state championship. The school was in a fever. They had never come anywhere near competing at state level. But after winning 67 consecutive victories they were on the brink. One more victory would do it.

Hollywood would have changed the narrative. They would have given our lonely fellow a girlfriend, who originally hated him but then grew to like him as much as his students. And Hollywood would have ensured they became state champions. But the truth is they lost.  Even so a banquet was held in their honor, the teacher won a pay raise.

The second movie is another underdog story. At any college in America, athletes are the top dogs. They get the preferential treatment. If there’s any easy jobs going round, or anything remotely beneficial, it goes to them. Even in a piss-poor low-grade college, the footballer is unchallenged.

Our fellow was never going to make a football team, too gangly, awkward, clumsy. The football team had a secret society to help them stay in control. Our fellow was always going to be blackballed. So he set up his own secret society. And he worked like a dog to become the top dog, stealing away those precious positions that gave a poor student breathing space.

But the third tale is best of all, in terms of a politician doing what he’s there to do, which is to improve the lot of his constituents. By this time our man is a politician and determined to help the farming community where he grew up.

There was no electricity where he grew up. The utility companies argued it was too expensive to install and in any case the dirt-poor farmers couldn’t afford it so it would be a foolish investment. No electricity meant no movies, no radio and no labor-saving devices like washing machines, pumps for running water, electric irons, machines for grinding corn or sawing wood or feeding the livestock.

Water came from a well 50-100 feet deep, nearly 100 yards from a house. It came up one bucket at a time, weighing 32lb. An average farm used 200 gallons of water a day. An average bucket held four gallons. Water was required for washing, cleaning, cooking, ironing.

Without electricity, fires for cooking, washing and heat came from wood stoves. They were hard to start and almost impossible to keep going. The room was a furnace in a land that in the summer was also a furnace. Since there was no electricity, there was no refrigeration. Fruit and vegetables had to be canned the day they became ripe, and not all fruit and vegetables conveniently ripened on the same day, all the fruit on one tree wouldn’t even ripen at the same time.

The women on these farms were all bent over, old before their time, from their arduous physical labor.

Barely 10 per cent of the nearly seven million farms in America had electricity. And even when the Government forced the utility companies to change their rules, that still left these piss-poor farmers out on a limb because they still didn’t fit the criteria.

So our fellow set out to change all that. He not only worked his socks off but proved he had innate political skills, knew how to get the best out of people who opposed him, and eventually – this involved also the building of a dam which he was instrumental in pushing through – he got his people water.

However, in terms of national impact, the fourth tale beats that. In 1940, without our fellow, the Democrats would have lost the Presidential election. Franklin D. Roosevelt was risking his personal popularity in any case by going for an unheard-of third term in office. Roughly a month before the election is looked like the Democrats were heading for a heavy defeat.

One of the reasons was that the party was hopeless at fundraising. Many of the people who chaired such committees were useless, promoted simply because they were next in line. Candidates desperate for cash to launch a campagn were denied any money. The Republicans, the party representing big business, were much better prepared in that line.

Our man, a very minor politician, somehow inveigled himself into a very minor position on the campaign committee and set about raising funds. He called in a lot of favors. He raised more money that the party had seen in a lifetime.

But he didn’t just hand out money willy-nilly. He targeted candidates whose seats were most at risk. He asked them how much they needed and gave it to them. But given he was in regular contact with the guys on the ground floor, he invented something new and incredibly useful. He got these guys to poll their guys and fed this information back to party HQ. Although rudimentary polling existed, it took weeks to be analyzed and disseminated, so virtually useless in the last few weeks of a campaign. He was able to provide up-to-the-minute information on the state of play in every state and therefore allocate more funds if necessary.

If I tell you our fellow – I hesitate to call him “our hero” – was LBJ, you’ll probably cringe. Because Lyndon B. Johnson was accused of all sorts in the Oliver Stone’s specious film JFK, and was condemned for escalating the war in Vietnam, something that cast a huge shadow over anything else he did, and virtually for succeeding generations destroyed his reputation at a stroke.

Robert Caro, the author of the book I’m reading, The Path to Power (The Years of Lyndon Johnson, Vol 1), doesn’t much like our fellow.  Caro spends acres of print space demolishing our fellow’s personality, as if being driven was a flaw and power was almost certainly abused.

Now there’s no doubt that LBJ stuck his nose in the trough, but so did virtually every other politician – it’s not a job these days that evinces much praise. But what he did do which 99 per cent of all other politicians did not was he got the job done. He had such energy and determination that he achieved far more than your average politician, and virtually always for the benefit of the common man, of which he was one. Nobody wanted to give his farmers electricity and if it hadn’t been for LBJ they wouldn’t have gotten any. Nobody had been asked to cough up to help a campiagn fund and if he hadn’t stepped into the breach Roosevelt would not have been elected.

This book is 800 pages long and there are four other volumes to come. But if LBJ achieved this much so early in his career, goodness knows what he’d manage later.

If nobody wants to make a movie, then a mini-series would get the job done. Our lovelorn fellow eventually does marry and have affairs with – gasp! – beautiful women and that’s long before he gets anywhere near the Presidency.

Apologies for venturing miles off  my determined course but I’ve been so absorbed in this book I’ve had less time to watch movies. I’m not American so my knowledge of longdead American presidents is scant, but this was an eye-opener.

Robert A. Caro, The Path to Power, the first volume of the LBJ biography, was first published to universal acclaim in 1982. Caro, now 90, is working on the final volume.

Question mark image by  Simone Secci on Unsplash

My Five-Star Picks, 2020-2026

Since I’m in celebratory mode and let’s face it everyone doing a blog has an educational bent, wanting to push subscribers into favoring the movies I favor, I thought I would crave your indulgence a little more and remind you of the films I think you should see. I was going to add, “if that doesn’t sound a little pompous,” until I realized that “pompous”, not to perhaps say, a tad “hectoring”, is exactly what it is.  

In reviewing close on 2,000 movies in the past five years, these are the movies I most thoroughly recommend –  the ones that achieve in my eyes at least the ultimate accolade in my eyes of being considered in the five-star bracket. Virtually every genre is represented – western, crime/thriller, drama, sci fi, fantasy, historical epic, war, horror, espionage, road films and comedy. The only exception is musical, though, admittedly, there might be some takers there if I’d actually got round to reviewing every musical made in the decade.

Of westerns, these are my top choices – John Wayne and Rock Hudson in Andrew V. McLaglen’s underrated The Undefeated (1969), Wayne again with James Stewart in John Ford’s The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962), Sergio Leone’s immaculate Once Upon a Time in the West (1969), The Magnificent Seven (1960), John Huston’s modern western The Misfits (1961), Burt Lancaster in Valdez Is Coming (1971) and Lawman (1971), and the spectacular How the West Was Won (1962).

War is represented by Otto Preminger’s In Harm’s Way (1965) – John Wayne again – The Guns of Navarone (1961), Battle of the Bulge (1965), Tora! Tora! Tora! (1970), aerial epic The Battle of Britain (1969) and I guess Zulu (1964) fits in here more easily than historical epic.

Horror is represented by The Skull (1965) with Peter Cushing, Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds (1963) and the ground-breaking Psycho (1960) and The Demon/Il Demonio (1963) with Daliah Lavi in mesmeric form.

You might say drama is over-represented once you take in Otto Preminger’s Hurry Sundown (1967) with Michael Caine and Jane Fonda, Marlon Brando and Fonda again in Arthur Penn’s The Chase (1966), Rod Steiger as The Pawnbroker (1964), Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr in John Frankenheimer’s The Gypsy Moths (1969), Lancaster again in The Swimmer (1969) and his Oscar-winning turn as Elmer Gantry (1960), Steve McQueen as The Cincinnati Kid (1965) and Jean Seberg as Lilith (1964).

In the crime/thriller department have a look at French gangster picture The Sicilian Clan (1969) headlining Alain Delon, Richard Burton in Villain (1971), Rock Hudson and Claudia Cardinale in Blindfold (1966), Hudson again in John Frankenheimers Seconds (1966), Alfred Hitchcock’s Marnie (1964), and Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn in Charade (1963). Add in Claude Chabrol’s Les Biches (1968), Robert Redford and Faye Dunaway caught up in conspiracy in Three Days of the Condor (1973), Dunaway again tracking down thief Steve McQueen in The Thomas Crown Affair (1968), Fred Zinnemann’s Day of the Jackal (1973), Terence Stamp kidnapping Samantha Eggar in William Wyler’s The Collector (1965), Sean Connery and Nicolas Cage in The Rock (1996) and Jules Dassin’s Topkapi (1964)

It’s surprising that two road films – Easy Rider (1969) and Vanishing Point (1971) – have an existential bent. John Frankenheimer’s Grand Prix (1966) fits in more easily here I guess.

Sci fi is represented by Charlton Heston stranded on Planet of the Apes (1968), Matt Damon stranded on Mars in Ridley Scott’s The Martian (2015) and Ryan Gosling stranded who knows where in Project Hail Mary (2026).

Numbered among the historical dramas are include Luchino Visconti’s The Leopard (1963) with Burt Lancaster and Claudia Cardinale, James Cameron’s Titanic (1997), The Odyssey (2026) -though you might consider it more suited to fantasy – and Richard Burton and Peter O’Toole in Becket (1964)

In some genres, only one film gets a mention. For fantasy there is Jason and the Argonauts (1963) with Ray Harryhausen in majestic form. Dr No (1962) is the standard-bearer for spy pictures. Billy Wilder’s Some Like it Hot (1959) with Marilyn Monroe, Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis performs the same role for comedy.

You might note that the star most often mentioned is Burt Lancaster.

Three-Quarters of a Million Views… and Counting – You Don’t Mind, I Hope, If I Give Myself A Pat On The Back

It took me five years to reach the half a million mark and less than a year since then to hit the 750,000 mark. Add to that another 110,000 from referrals to various of the social media – primarily X and Facebook – that have also come completely out of the blue. For my first-ever month I attracted a total of 179 views. Last month the tally was just short of 25,000 and my record month (in February this year) was 78,000.

My pleasure in cinema – the physical act of going to a cinema as well as the watching of movies – has not diminished. As you will be aware I still see around 2-3 movies a week at my local multiplex and another 4-5 sitting at home either catching them on a streamer or working my way through the huge stack adorning my shelves. I don’t know how many I’ve still got to get through before I run out of 1960s movies.

One of the benefits of a site like mine is that it draws attention to movies discarded as unworthy of academic attention or not fitting into some other sub-section of interest such as cult or horror or whatever star happens to still be attracting public interest. But, as you know, from my general astonishment at the movies that fill my twice-yearly Top 100 feature, I’m not chasing the popular vote. I’ve no idea, generally, how viewers will respond to the films I’ve chosen to watch.

I tend to be aware that one of the movies I’ve reviewed has turned up on a streamer somewhere in the world because suddenly one of the titles will generate a heck of a lot of views. In the last three months, for instance, ten films in particular have enjoyed massive spurts in the viewing figures.

And they could not be more varied. James Garner as the amnesiac Mister Buddwing/ Buddwing (1966) struggling with his identity rubs shoulders with Toys in the Attic (1963) where Dean Martin is battling to save his marriage. Sergio Leone’s majestic Once Upon a Time in the West (1969) headlining Claudia Cardinale and Charles Bronson duking it out with empire-builder Henry Fonda shares space with Carroll Baker as tempestuous Hollywood star Harlow (1965) and Gregory Peck also knocked sideways by identity issues in thriller Mirage (1965).

Frank Sinatra’s last top-billed role as a cop hunting a serial killer in The First Deadly Sin (1980) also jumped up the charts along with Montgomery Clift and Lee Remick in Elia Kazan’s Wild River (1960), Barbara Hershey leading a pack of teenagers enjoying an idyllic Last Summer (1969) before it turns sour on them, and George Roy Hill’s Period of Adjustment (1962) with rising stars Jane Fonda and Tony Franciosa.

For some reason, the remake of Stagecoach (1966) had continued in all three months to add substantial numbers to its figures – so much so that it is head-and-shoulders above any other film in the listings – and whether that is due to Ann-Margret in a straight role or maybe even Alex Cord or because audiences welcomed a Technicolor version of the John Ford classic is anybody’s guess.

Of course like any reviewer I’ve got an ego, but I’ve quickly learned that not everyone responds to my attempts to educate the public on the merits of a specific movie. It’s been glaringly obvious that my five-star picks rarely sit close to the top of the Top 100. I’ve pushed the boat out, for example, on Andrew V. McLaglen western The Undefeated (1969) with John Wayne and Rock Hudson on opposite sides of the Civil War fence.

Except for Vertigo, Alfred Hitchcock’s luster has foundered and even my enthusiastic response to The Birds (1963) and Marnie (1964) has not been shared by the larger section of my readers. Not that many have responded either to Burt Lancaster as the bewildered The Swimmer (1969), nor to a pair of steamy dramas set in the Deep South – Arthur Penn’s The Chase (1966) featuring Marlon Brando, Robert Redford and Jane Fonda and Otto Preminger’s Hurry Sundown (1967) starring Michael Caine and Fonda again and Faye Dunaway.

I hope that if I pick out some under-rated gems they might attract further notice. This week, for example, long-ignored Dear Heart (1964) with Glenn Ford has enjoyed a sudden spike in views as has underrated western Five Card Stud (1968) with Robert Mitchum and Dean Martin, Steve McQueen as Nevada Smith (1966) and Paul Newman drama From the Terrace (1960).

To be honest, it’s more interesting for me, as I keep going, to see how unexpectedly my Top 100 shapes up and which films almost come out of left field to give a good account of themselves in reader response.

Thank you all for reading the Blog and for passing the word.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Behind the Scenes: All-Time Top 40

Waterloo (1970) holds on to the top spot but the Alistair MacLean revival gathers pace. The Satan Bug (1965) makes the biggest surge, shooting up to second spot, with Ice Station Zebra (1968) in fourth spot past The Guns of Navarone (1961) which drops slightly to sixth.

I’ve extended this from a Top 30 to a Top 40 so there are a goodly number of new entries. The previous rankings are from December 2025.

  1. (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.
  2. (5) The Satan Bug (1965). The problems facing director John Sturges in adapting the Alistair MacLean pandemic classic for the big screen.
  3. (2) 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.
  4. (7) 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.
  5. (3)  Man’s Favorite Sport (1964). Howard Hawks back in the gender wars with Rock Hudson being taken down a peg by Paula Prentiss.
  6. (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. (8) 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. (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.
  9. (10) 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.
  10. (15) 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.
  11. (24) 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.
  12. (9) 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.
  13. (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.
  14. (14) The Trouble with Angels (1966). Less than angelic Hayley Mills sparring with convent boss Rosalind Russell. Directed by one-time star Ida Lupino.
  15. (11) 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.
  16. (13). Tora! Tora! Tora! (1970). Richard Fleischer dispenses with the all-star cast in favor of even-handed verisimilitude.
  17. (16) The Bridge at Remagen (1969). British director John Guillerman hits trouble filming World War Two picture starring George Segal and Robert Vaughn.
  18. (17) For a Few Dollars More (1965). Sergio Leone sequel to first spaghetti western brings in Lee van Cleef to pair with Clint Eastwood.
  19. (20) Bandolero! (1968). Director Andrew V. McLaglen teams up with James Stewart, Dean Martin and Raquel Welch to fight Mexican bandits.
  20. (20) The Collector (1963). William Wyler’s creepy adaptation of John Fowles’ creepy bestseller with Terence Stamp and Samatha Eggar.
  21. (13) Sink the Bismarck! (1960). Documentary-style British World War Two classic with Kenneth More exhibiting the stiffest of stiff-upper-lips.
  22. (18) Bandolero! (1968). Director Andrew V. McLaglen teams up with James Stewart, Dean Martin and Raquel Welch to fight Mexican bandits.
  23. (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.
  24. (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.
  25. (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.
  26. (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.
  27. (New Entry) “Barbieheimer” Recalls the Old Double Bill. The perfect double bill aimed to attract different segments of the audience.
  28. (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.
  29. (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.
  30. (New Entry) The Cincinnati Kid (1965). Sam Peckinpah was fired. Spencer Tracy quit. Sharon Tate declined.
  31. (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.
  32. (New entry) The Birds (1963). Hitchcock sets an apocalyptic tone as Rod Taylor and Tippi Hedren are trapped by feral flocks.
  33. (New entry). Number One (1969). Charlton Heston as ageing pro football player desperately trying to hold onto to fame and its trimmings. Directed by Tom Gries.
  34. (New entry) Hollywood Bloodbath. Why 200 movies were scrapped or shelved.
  35. (New entry) Breathless / A Bout de Souffle (1960). The French New Wave made its name on the back of Jean-Luc Godard’s thriller starring Jean-Paul Belmondo and Jean Seberg.
  36. (New entry) The Top 40 Movies at the 1950s Box Office.
  37. (New entry) The Man in the Middle / The Winston Affair (1964). Robert Mitchum is the titular guy in trouble.
  38. (New entry) Yul Brynner vs Kirk Douglas on Spartacus (1961). The battle to bring the Roman rebel to the screen.
  39. (New Entry) Puppet on a Chain (1970). More Alistair MacLean thrills. This time in Amsterdam and that boat chase.
  40. (New Entry) The Glass Is Greener (1960). Cary Grant, Deborah Kerr, Robert Mitchum and Jean Simmons play the infidelity games.

Behind the Scenes: Whispering Smith Hits London / Whispering Smith vs Scotland Yard (1952)

Contemporary audiences will be accustomed to studios playing fast and loose with a successful  IP, all sorts of tricks to keep a series alive; although maybe the most famous occurred in TV soap Dallas when the death of a major character turned out to be only a dream.

Still, British studio Hammer, in its pre-horror days, takes some beating when it relocates Alan Ladd’s Whispering Smith (1948) 70 years into the future, and from the American Wild West of the 19th century to London in the 1950s and deletes the character’s, railroad detection, in favor of ordinary murder.

The first Frank H. Spearman western was published in 1908, triggering an extensive series. The four silent versions, Alan Ladd effort and a TV series in 1961 stuck to the original concept. British screenwriter John Gilling attempted to anglicize the idea, and though Smith remained a Yank there was no sign of railroad detection.

William Hinds founded Hammer in 1934 but the project was short-lived, going bankrupt three years later. However, in 1935 he formed Exclusive, a distribution company, with Enrique Carreras and that survived. The principals’ two sons, Michael Carreras and Anthony Hinds, were recruited, and Hammer was revived Post-War, embarking on low-cost crime pictures. As part of a deal with American outfit Lippert, Hammer cast Americans in leading roles. The company was still rooted in crime until its first horror venture in 1953.

Richard Carlson fitted the category of rising star rather than marquee name when hired for Whispering Smith Hits London. Though he had written for Collier’s magazine and written and directed plays, this as the actor’s first top-billed role and paved the way for him to become a leading figure in the 1950s sci fi cycle – It Came from Outer Space (1953) and The Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954).

Norwegian Greta Gynt was not as established a star as you might have expected, after a failed attempt by Rank to market her as the next Jean Harlow and following parts like the female lead in such British films as The Dark Eyes of London/The Human Monster (1939) opposite Bela Lugosi and Tomorrow We Live (1943). She had revived a failing career with the female lead in MGM’s Soldiers Three (1951) starring David Niven and Stewart Granger.

Herbert Lom also had another string to his bow, as co-editor of the magazine Clubman. He had been steadily rising up the supporting actor ranks, receiving good notices for State Secret (1950), Cage of Gold (1950) and Hell Is Sold Out (1951). Scot Rona Anderson was married to fellow actor Gordon Jackson.

John Gilling had five directorial credits – in the 1960s he specialized in horror most notably Shadow of the Cat (1961) – when he began work on the screenplay of Whispering Smith, envisaging this as the first in a series.

The Pressbook was typical for the period, four pages A4 with a color cover and one page in spot color. As far as B-picture British Pressbooks went, this was a step up – often they were only a double-sided A4 or four-page A5 and minus any colour. Unlike bigger budgeted productions there was little excess when it came to advertising and promotion.

There was only one tagline – “America’s Ace Detective in Britain’s Greatest Mystery” (the American distributor was a bit more adventurous in the tagline department – “Murder Nobody Can Prove…A Body Nobody Can Find” and “Mad Killers Stalk Yank Sleuth”).

And in terms of the advert, beyond Carlson puffing on a cigarette and a hint of the tunnel sequence, audiences were given very little to go on. Whether any moviegoers recalled the Alan Ladd version of four years previously and wondered at the change in style and locale is unknown. Unlike other Pressbooks, there was no attempt to offer cinema managers any advice in how to promote the movie.

One page of the Pressbook is devoted to a detailed synopsis, another shows six ads, all in the same style but in different sizes (that a cinema manager would cut out and take down to the local newspaper to make up an advert), and the final page  is given over to star biographies.

Sign of the times in that Greta Gynt confesses that her favorite hobby is “looking after her hobby” although Rona Anderson’s favored activity is “lazing in the sun.”

Turns out this Pressbook is something of a highly sought-after item, the combination of the names Hammer and Exclusive apparently the cause.

Behind the Scenes: Selling Movies To The Exhibitors

We tend to view movie marketing as the business of selling movies to the general public. What we forget is that in order for a cinemagoer to attend a showing of an individual film in a particular cinema, that the movie has to be rented by said cinema and before that can happen someone has to convince the cinema manager to take on the picture.

The most common method of selling movies to exhibitors was via the Pressbook/Campaign Manual. But this had three drawbacks. In the first place cinemas were flooded with Pressbooks that might arrive in the post at the rate of 10-15 a week. The other downside was that such items were generally only useful once a cinema had signed on to screen a particular movie and manager would turn to the Pressbook for hints on publicizing the movie and for the advertising blocks required to run a campaign in a local newspaper. The final problem was that Pressbooks appeared fairly close to a film’s launch so not that helpful in driving up interest.

So the studios turned to the trade magazines. They might embark on a well-planned long-term campaign running upwards of a year. It would kick off with an advert announcing a movie was being made or close to completion – Universal placed a four-page bound insert for Isadora in June 1968, five months prior to the world premiere. Then it would produce some artwork that was close to the posters being prepared for public consumption.

Then it would generate more material that explained how confident the studio was in the picture, demonstrating that money that had been spent on promotion in newspapers, magazines and television, and various tie-ins. The back page of a four-page ad for The Green Berets (1968) was devoted to the promotional activities surrounding its immediate upcoming launch. The sameheld true for Barbarella (1968).

After that it would harness the fact that the film was opening simultaneously in an exclusive number of first run houses in the major cities or that it was scheduled for a huge number of cinemas again simultaneously. These were intended to show that other exhibitors had demonstrated faith in the product, suggesting you had better get in line quick. The final avenue was advertising the box office figures that usually suggested the film was breaking some record or another.

Not all campaigns took all of these steps. In fact, most selected just two or three of them. And they were not always presented in the same fashion. The box office ads tended to be just printed on the same kind of paper as usual, perhaps with color or spot-color (i.e. some part of the ad picked out in blue or red and the rest in black-and-white).

But the ads used in the general build-up would be of a more expensive material. These would employ thicker glossier paper. They would usually be specially designed. They might run to four- six- or eight-pages and they might have some version of a gatefold (not just opening horizontally but potentially vertically). These adverts were printed separately and then inserted into the magazine at the production stage so were known as “bound inserts” meaning they weren’t loose inside the pages but part of the magazine.

There was a major, immediate, bonus from going down this route. I’ve got a massive collection of trade magazines and I always know the moment I pick up an issue whether it contains a bound insert. Not only does the magazine feel heavier but it automatically opens at the insert.

Sometimes, smaller distributors just stuck an entire Pressbook inside a magazine – The Devil’s 8 (1969) a gangster version of The Dirty Dozen (1967) – was promoted in this fashion and the 8-page insert for Doctor Zhivago (1965) contained nothing but promotional ideas and details of tie-ins.

Sometimes adverts that appeared in the trades were try-outs for the kind of poster ideas being considered by the marketing department for public distribution, the illustrations shown here for Tony Rome (1968) and Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf (1966) a good example.

Other times studios got it into their heads that, just as had occurred in the Hollywood Golden Age, that the studio name was somehow an imprimatur for good business and that if you stuck with MGM, for example, you couldn’t go wrong and to prove its point it would cross-reference in one advert films as disparate as Doctor Zhivago, Blow-Up (1966) and Grand Prix (1966).

It was pretty obvious to keen observers that studios sometimes placed movies in cinemas with smaller seating capacities in the hope that demand would outstrip supply and consequently they could crow about the box office. Often, studios chose specific outlets deliberately as a guide to other cinemas which were similar. But, mostly, it was just to have something to give a movie a boost.

You might have needed an adding machine (calculators not a thing then) to calculate from figures presented just how well a film was doing, but even just presenting the box office was seen as a sign of studio confidence and exhibitors, presented with a set of box office figures in a trade advertisement, tended not to question their validity.

The one shown for The Sand Pebbles (1966) was also in the nature of a teaser – here’s what’s it done in selected openings, guess what it’ll do for you – whereas for Divorce, American Style (1967) the range was much wider, suggesting the movie would do just as well in cinemas around your way, whether playing in first run or simultaneously in suburban showcase.

Occasionally, there would be more strategic purpose involved. When, in 1965, Twentieth Century Fox got ahead of the game in terms of television promotion and wanted to show exhibitors they were committed to this kind of advance, that was what dominated their 4-page insert in Box Office magazine’s “anniversary issue.” The studio claimed it was “pioneering a new era” promising to use network television (i.e. the “Big Three” of CBS, ABC and NBC) on a year-round basis.

It had committed to purchasing 189 one-minute commercials that would cumulatively attract nearly 800 million “viewer impressions” in 191 cities nationwide. Just to make sure cinema owners exhibitors were in no doubt about the importance of this development in their favor, the studio pointed out it was “the kind of continuing deep-sell no other company in the industry offers exhibitors

Two or Three Things You Don’t Know About Me

Two or three things you don’t know about me. Firstly, I run a second-hand bookshop in Paisley, Scotland, called Abbey Books. Secondly, I have a massive collection of movie posters, pressbooks, magazines and what-have-you. And, thirdly, I’ve connected these interests in an exhibition of movie memorabilia on the walls and bookcases of the shop.

1950 window card.

You’ll probably have seen my various Behind the Scenes articles on Pressbooks relating to a particular movie and perhaps not realized I was able to write it because I had the Pressbook (also known as a Exhibitor’ Campaign Manual) to hand. I’ve also got a stack of trade magazines which contain very rare material – ads that never saw the light of day in consumer magazines or newspapers, many of them pop-up, gatefolds or fold-outs.

1965 insert poster.

My all-time favorite in that department is the four-page glossy pull-out teaser ad that ran in Box Office magazine in April 1977 that announced Close Encounters of the Third Kind would appear at Christmas 1977, unaware that by that point Star Wars would have rewritten the genre.

1955 quad poster.

I’ve got quads (both vertical and horizontal), half-sheets, insert posters, heralds, window cards, stills, pressbooks, double-page spread trade mag ads and souvenir programmes. Among my magazine selections are Box Office, Motion Picture Herald, Kine Weekly, ABC Film Review, Films & Filming, Focus on Film, Cinema Retro, Sight and Sound, Star Wars magazine and books, Lord of the Rings magazines and various MCU and DC comics and graphic novels.

1951 Pressbook for Jean Renoir acclaimed picture.

The exhibition covers the walls of the three rooms of the bookshop, so that’s around 12 walls of movie memorabilia. The oldest item is the Pressbook for Edward G. Robinson’s gangster picture Thunder in the City (1937). John Wayne in 1940 is represented by the insert poster for Dark Command and  window card for Seven Sinners with Marlene Dietrich. I’ve got a window card from For Whom the Bell Tolls (1943), the Pressbook for Love Happy (1949)  – Marilyn Monroe Meets The Marx Bros – and for the 1952 reissue of Hitchcock’s Rebecca, a half-sheet for The Rains of Ranchipur (1955) starring Lana Turner, and a quad for The Prisoner (1955) starring Alec Guinness.

Four-page herald from 1965.

You might want to check out the Pressbook for Sudden Fear (1952) starring Joan Crawford  or Lady in Cement (1968) with Frank Sinatra tangling with Raquel Welch or window cards for another Gary Cooper effort Casanova Brown (1944) or Lew Ayres in early John Sturges western The Capture (1950). Or pressbooks for Dillinger (1973), The Female Bunch (1971), the original movie version of Westworld (1973), Clint Eastwood in The Beguiled (1971) and The Headless Ghost (1959).

1968 quad poster

There also posters etc from Where Eagles Dare, She, War and Peace (1956), Bigger Than Life, Cat Ballou, That Darn Cat!, The Scalphunters, Marooned, Mackenna’s Gold, Lawrence of Arabia, Macao, Giant, Blindfold, Chinatown, Play Dirty, The Secret of Santa Vittoria, The Diary of Anne Frank, The Las Vegas Story, The Collector, Zulu Dawn, and so on and so on.

1951 Pressbook. Early film by John Sturges.

Among our selection of movie souvenir brochures are: The Guns of Navarone (1961), Lawrence of Arabia (1962), Isadora (1968), Paint Your Wagon (1969), El Cid (1961), The Agony and the Ecstasy (1965), Cleopatra (1963), Hawaii (1966), Cromwell (1970), Camelot (1967), Lord Jim (1965) and Far from the Madding Crowd (1967). I had imagined that souvenir brochures had disappeared at the end of the roadshow era but actually I have ones for The Horsemen (1971) and The Valachi Papers (1972).

1963 souvenir brochure.

Famous illustrators featured throughout the collection include Tom Chantrell, Robert McGinnis and Howard Terpning.

As far as I can see there are precious few movie memorabilia shops left anywhere in the world. Most items are now sold online or at auction. So here’s a very rare chance to see these old posters and memorabilia relating to favored movies or ones that trigger a memory.

1966 insert poster.

Pop in and see the exhibition. Everything is for sale.

Abbey Books, 21 Wellmeadow St, Paisley PA1 2EF. Opening hours – Tue-Sat 10.15am-17.15pm.

1956 window card.
1951 Pressbook.
1965 A3 pressbook.
1951 Pressbook.

Don’t wait.

Behind the Scenes: Let’s Gripe – “The Exhibitor Has His Say,” March 1967

One of the most appealing features of Box Office trade magazine was that once a fortnight it cut out the baloney, ignored all the glossy ads trumpeting a studio’s next big hit and the editorial that promised a golden future, and got down to the nitty-gritty of how movies performed once they were way down the food release chain, far removed from the big city first run houses where they premiered.

While critics pontificated and effectively told their readers what worthy movies to head for and while studios spent their advertising bucks trying to persuade the public trying to do the same (though often the films chosen by critics were not those backed by the studios), exhibitors were caught in the middle. They were the bottom line. This was where the golden buck of promise stopped – and sometimes died.

The exhibitors who fessed up in the “Exhibitor Has His Say” section were the kind of movie theaters that you’d see in The Last Picture Show, the thousands that serviced small towns well away from the big cities and which might be playing new films many months after they were first shown in New York or Chicago or Los Angeles. Of the cinemas features in the March 13, 1967, edition of weekly trade magazine Box Office, only one serviced a population of more than 2,500, and even then it was only 6,000.

The movies shown in these houses didn’t run a full week. At best they’d last three days, but sometimes it was only two. These cinemas would change programmes three or four times a week. But the exhibitors who contributed to this section did so on a regular basis, so other exhibitors could compare notes and everyone felt they had a voice.

The biggest participating cinemas was the Star Theatre in St Johnsbury (population 6,000) in Vermont, run by Peter Silloway. He played his big pictures Wednesday through Saturday. He made reports on three. Khartoum starring Charlton Heston was “a pretty good action picture” and based on his experience he reckoned “adults should enjoy the picture very much.” He also had a positive response to William Holden western Alvarez Kelly which he deemed “an excellent outdoor action picture and enjoyed by everyone.” He was less sanguine about Hitchcock’s Torn Curtain. “People were very disappointed…they expected to see the mystery that Hitchcock is famous for.”

Another regular contributor was Arthur K. Dame who ran the Scenic Theatre in Pittsfield (pop 2,300) in New Hampshire. The Great Sioux Massacre (playing Fri-Sat) was an “okay western” but his audiences “just won’t buy secret agents here” so that affected The Second Best Secret Agent in the Whole Wide World (Fri-Sat). Flipper (Sat only) “wears well.”

Terry Axley at the New Theatre in England (pop 2,136) in Arkansas “wouldn’t especially recommend” Cary Grant comedy Walk, Don’t Run (Sun-Mon). There was “fair business” for Elvis Presley musical Spinout (Thu-Sat). How to Steal a Million (Sun-Mon) with the topline cast of Peter O’Toole and Audrey Hepburn had “no appeal,” racking up “one of the lowest grosses in my history of show business” while results for  for Rock Hudson thriller Blindfold (Sun-Mon) were “way off.”

The Calvert Drive-In at Prince Frederick (pop 2,500) in Maryland was run by Don Stott. Steve McQueen number Baby, the Rain Must Fall (Thu-Sat) “did pretty well.” But for How the West Was Won (Thu-Sat) despite the all-star cast and the marketing hullabaloo business was “only average” and the gross was “okay” for anthology The Yellow Rolls-Royce though many people left halfway through and another Steve McQueen picture Nevada Smith proved “not bad at all” and Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte was a “sure crowd-pleaser.”

S.T. Jackson of the Jackson Theatre in Flomaton (pop 1,480) in Alabama did “poor business” with the reissue of Butterfield 8 (Sun-Mon) and Glen Hall of the Hall Theatre in Cassville (pop 3,000) in Missouri received “many complaints” over Lady L.

Response to Herman’s Hermits picture Hold On! (Fri-Sat) was so good that Jim Townley of the Silver Hill Theatre in Oshkosh (pop 2,500) in Nebraska “ran an extra show after the basketball game.” For The Great Race (Fri-Sat) he received a “good haul to the bank” and The Singing Nun  “really drew the crowd” so much so that he “might even run it again.”

Bear in mind this is March 1967, so it gives an idea of how far down the queue such cinemas were in the food release chain. Khartoum opened in the United States in June 1966, as did Hold On! with Torn Curtain a month later. The Great Race, The Yellow Rolls-Royce and Baby, the Rain Must Fall dated back to 1965, Flipper to 1963. The Singing Nun opened in April 1966, Nevada Smith the following month. Spinout (three months) and Alvarez Kelly (six months) endured the shortest wait, How the West Was Won the longest, around four years.

SOURCE: Box Office, March 13, 1967, p42.

The Magic Christian (1969) ***

Substitute contemporary artwork/installation/performance art for practical joke and this will come up trumps. Taken in the artistic sense, where artists are pillorying society, there are gems – a stage Hamlet performing a striptease, feeding scraps of money to the ducks, ship passengers experiencing an apparent voyage when the vessel hasn’t left land, cutting up a famous work of art. Although I have to point out this will inevitably be remembered by some for a bikini-ed Raquel Welch cracking the whip over a galley of topless oarswomen.

Effectively a series of comedy skits loosely tied together under the theme of money, mostly in the form of bribery. Billionaire Sir Guy Grand (Peter Sellers) sets out to teach adopted son Youngman (Ringo Starr) just what money can buy. Could you pay one of the teams sufficient dough in the annual Boat Race for them to ram the other? Would a parking warden (Spike Milligan) eat the parking ticket he has just issued? In the spirit of fair play is it okay to down a pheasant with an anti-aircraft gun?

When the going slows down, surrealism enters the equation: ship’s captain kidnapped by a gorilla, vampire waitperson, black head on white body, urine-soaked banknotes given away to a crowd, the occasional nun or Nazi, newspapers where apologies are written in Polish.

Plot-wise, there’s not much to it and the satire is merely repetitive as Sir Guy embarks on educating Youngman on the perverse uses of money. It has the feeling not of following a storyline but of “what can we get up to next” and attempting to layer shock upon shock in the manner, it has to be said, of some contemporary directors.

But there’s neither sufficient bite to the satire nor punch to the shock so it remains an elaborate series of disconnected sequences. Luckily, nobody’s having to pretend to put in an acting shift which is just as well because Ringo Starr proves he can’t act.

And it’s not much helped by a host of cameos – Laurence Harvey (A Dandy in Aspic, 1968), Richard Attenborough (Guns at Batasi, 1964), Christopher Lee (Dracula, Prince of Darkness, 1965), Raquel Welch (Bandolero!, 1968), director Roman Polanski (Rosemary’s Baby, 1968), Wilfred Hyde-White (P.J. / New Face in Hell, 1967), comic Spike Milligan and various members of the future Monty Python team including John Cleese (A Fish Called Wanda, 1988) and Graham Chapman.  Harvey and Welch make the biggest splash.

Excepting Dr Strangelove, Hollywood had failed to capture the essence of offbeat novelist Terry Southern (Candy, 1968) and despite input from Chapman, Cleese and Sellers, this never really gets off the ground.

Peter Sellers (The Pink Panther, 1963) was in something of a career rut where very little struck home at the box office and he would continue a dismal losing streak until resuscitating The Pink Panther franchise in 1975.

Director Joseph McGrath’s (The Bliss of Mrs Blossom, 1967) record was spotty. Best known for music videos for The Beatles, he was only well served when his cast was filled with strong actors.

No more than an occasionally humorous trifle with an equally occasional target hitting the bullseye.

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