Monday, 30 December 2013

NEW YEAR'S NOSTALGIA


RADIO DAYS (1987: Dir. Woody Allen)





I have an intense distrust of New Year's. I consider it an arbitrary excuse for contrived merriment. In order to avoid such forced frivolities it has been my habit to sit down with a favourite film, one that reassures with its engrossing characters and warmth of emotion. With these criteria in mind, Woody Allen's Radio Days always fits the bill. As a child who was born too late to experience the golden era of old time radio, I actively sought out and collected many such radio shows on cassette. I can still remember the laughter and the terror that came from these well-crafted auditory excursions. I could even quote lines from The Edgar Bergen Show when W.C. Fields matched wits with ventriloquist Bergen's monocled alter-ego Charlie McCarthy, or summon up the hackles that were raised by the sound effects of a horde of rats clawing at the door of Vincent Price's isolated lighthouse in the infamous adaptation of the short story "Three Skeleton Key" for the anthology program Escape. This world of radio was fascinating to me even decades after its demise, and that is why I have always felt like a kindred spirit with Woody Allen who amusingly and lovingly brought to life the influence this mass medium had on him and his family when he was a small boy growing up in Thirties New York. Like Fellini's Amarcord, this is, on the surface, a simple paean to a fondly remembered childhood, but it is also something more. It is the evocation of a culture that no longer exists, one that was as ephemeral as the words that emanated through the airwaves for millions of listeners so long ago. Appropriately, the film ends on a hauntingly nostalgic note as the radio stars of yesteryear celebrate New Year's Eve atop the Waldorf Astoria, blissfully unaware that their simple lives will soon be transformed by decades of warfare, social, and technological upheaval. Despite never having experienced life before television, the sadness of this scene always lingers in my memory. I hope that in defiance of changing tastes, audiences can still enjoy Radio Days, just as I am still held spellbound by the comedians and heroes of that bygone age when families listened to a wooden box in their homes, that by sound alone transported them from their less complicated lives into a realm of infinite imagination. DVD & BLU-RAY

Tuesday, 17 December 2013

HOLIDAY HOLOCAUST


TRANCERS (1985: Dir. Charles Band)





I am not a Christmas movie fan, so my choice viewing for the season is an irreverent one. It features no heartwarming scenes by a fireplace and certainly no moral lessons about giving and receiving. Instead, it features a wise-ass cop from the future, his intelligent and resourceful female companion, and a scene where a marauding mall Santa turns green and foams at the mouth. The mid Eighties were a tough period for independent genre filmmakers. The drive-in theatre circuits that had been the life's blood of the industry were failing and video was fast becoming the favourite medium for horror and science fiction fans. Enterprising producer-director Charles Band saw this new frontier and formed Empire Pictures, a video and theatrical distribution company where he could make his own films and sell them directly to the audience without Hollywood interference. Following The Dungeonmaster (1984), the second film from this maverick new outfit was Trancers, a smart and funny Blade Runner riff, starring actor/stand-up comedian Tim Thomerson. Thomerson, a journeyman performer with numerous character credits, had never starred in a feature film before, but you wouldn't know it based on his work here. From the very first scene as his laconic world-weary narration describes an embattled dystopian Los Angeles, Thomerson inhabits the sarcastic and sardonic role of Jack Deth with a confident style that instantly turned the character into a cult hero on a par with Harrison Ford's Rick Deckard. The film kicks into higher gear when we are introduced to a comely young Helen Hunt, also starring in her first adult role. Starting out initially as Jack's unwilling partner when her job as Santa's helper at the local shopping mall turns deadly, she wisely starts to question the reality of her predicament. Demonstrating an immediate and relaxed chemistry, these two actors enthusiastically negotiate their way through the various time-travelling plot contrivances dreamed up by debuting screenwriters Danny Bilson and Paul De Meo (The Rocketeer), whose cheerfully derivative script allows director Band to deliver a crowd pleasing special effects film on a ridiculously low-budget. There would be five (and a half!?) sequels all released direct to home video with diminishing returns, but none of these cash-ins could ever cheapen the memory of the original Jack Deth adventure. DVD & BLU-RAY

Wednesday, 11 December 2013

PARANOIA: DE PALMA STYLE Part Three


SNAKE EYES (1998: Dir. Brian De Palma)






The Nineties was an era of extremes for director Brian De Palma. It began with The Bonfire of the Vanities (1990), a bloated social comedy that was his most expensive and public failure. He recovered with the mild success of  Raising Cain (1992), a return to his earlier psychological chillers, but his career stumbled again with the disappointing box office of his Hispanic gangster tragedy Carlito's Way (1993). Cannily, he then accepted Tom Cruise's offer to direct Mission Impossible (1996), and as a result of his skillful cinematic storytelling, combined with a clever tongue-in-cheek script by David Koepp, De Palma achieved the biggest success of his career. With a genuine hit in his back pocket, De Palma re-teamed with Koepp, co-writing the film Snake Eyes, a Rashomon-type thriller that once again exploited prevalent societal fears in the wake of the recent terrorist attacks on The World Trade Center and the Oklahoma City bombings. As with Blow Out, De Palma returned to the Kennedy assassination template, this time staging it in a confined indoor arena, while at the same time exploiting the crime-solving advances of modern video technology. A marvel for 9/11 conspiracy buffs, the film's postulations of a conspiracy between Arab assassins, military weapons contractors and the U.S. Defense Department were startling in their prescience, but the suspenseful scenario was really just a hook to hang a tour-de-force display of visual legerdemain. With stylish cinematography by frequent collaborator Stephen H. Burum (Body Double, The Untouchables), De Palma plays a paranoid game of three card monte, as bent Atlantic City cop Nicholas Cage finds himself confronting the limits of his own moral corruptibility in a sea of murder, betrayal and treason. It's a cracking nail-biter, that was probably undone by the advanced screening process when De Palma was coerced into substituting his bravura tidal wave climax for a far more realistic police stand-off. The lacklustre response to the film would end the decade on down note for De Palma, placing his career in a holding pattern outside the Hollywood System, where this maverick filmmaker regrettably remains to this day. DVD & BLU-RAY

Friday, 6 December 2013

PARANOIA: DE PALMA STYLE Part Two


BLOW OUT (1981: Dir. Brian De Palma)





Like most young Americans film director Brian De Palma was forever altered by the political assassinations of the 1960s. An obsession with murky conspiracies has echoed through much of his work, but the first film to address it directly was Blow Out. Unlike The Fury's exaggerated comic book tone, Blow Out is a ripped-from-the-headlines thriller, stylishly combining elements of Chappaquiddick and Dealey Plaza to form a paranoid parable about heroism and remorse. Although in the past De Palma was accused (unjustly) of strip mining Hitchcock's themes and techniques, in Blow Out he self-conciously chose to reference works by Michelangelo Antonioni (Blowup) and even his own contemporary Francis Coppola (The Conversation), to reveal the scars that had formed on the American psyche after the killing of the President. By reuniting Carrie's former high school sweethearts John Travolta and Nancy Allen, De Palma found the ideal representatives of a now adult generation caught in the corrupt maelstrom of cynicism and secrecy that had come to represent the post-Nixonian era. For De Palma these sweetly romantic protagonists were made to bear the sins of the fathers, ultimately paying the tragic price in an Eighties culture swamped by political apathy and financial greed. It is a hard pill for an audience to swallow, so he wisely sugar-coated it in the cinematography of Vilmos Zsigmond, employing all of De Palma's signature visual flourishes to stirring effect, including split-screen, deep focus diopters, slow motion, and rear screen projection. Once again drawing from his unofficial repertory company, Blow Out featured unforgettable roles for Dennis Franz (Dressed To Kill) as a rapacious low-rent pimp in a stained undershirt, and John Lithgow (Obsession), whose mask-like visage personified the calculating psychopathy of an apolitical assassin. Despite its pervading air of ruthless suspense, Travolta, in the most resonant portrayal of his career, provides the film with real heart and soul, however the film's failure at the box office would confine him to primarily sequels and remakes, until Quentin Tarantino, a Blow Out uber-fan, cast him in Pulp Fiction (1994). One might think that Blow Out's unpopularity would have expunged De Palma's interest in the paranoid conspiracy genre, but seventeen years later he would try once more...
BLU-RAY

Tuesday, 3 December 2013

PARANOIA: DE PALMA STYLE Part One


THE FURY (1978: Dir. Brian De Palma)







Director Brian De Palma loves the camera eye. Often compared to Hitchcock, De Palma is the greatest modern practitioner of lucid point of view cinema. Unlike most young filmmakers of today, there is never a moment in a De Palma film where the audience is unclear about which characters are visible in the scene, where they are geographically positioned in the frame, and what they can see from their own vantage points. Having such a complete mastery of the medium empowers De Palma in his unique ability to successfully manipulate and challenge the perceptions of a willing public. It also explains his natural affinity for surveillance, a common motif in most of his films. This fascination with spying engenders various kinds of paranoia, especially during the post-Watergate age, when institutions of higher authority were becoming highly suspect to a more informed populace. By the mid Seventies, even the C.I.A's most covert operations had been made public in Senate hearings and numerous newspaper articles. De Palma, eager to enjoy the success of his friends George Lucas and Steven Spielberg, saw his chance at a hit by tapping into the unsettling atmosphere of the era by exercising his natural cinematic flamboyance to envision a hybrid thriller. One that would combine such exploitable ingredients as espionage, telekinesis and governmental conspiracies to create a genre cocktail sui generis. Entitled The Fury, it was to be the first of the director's unofficial trilogy that was built upon the public's rising fear of shadow government agencies, mysterious groups responsible for nefarious deeds at home and abroad. Giving a nod to his off-Hollywood roots, De Palma cast rebel independent filmmaker John Cassavetes as the treacherous federal agent who double crosses fellow spy Kirk Douglas in order to harness the supernatural abilities of his son. Douglas, whose left-leaning politics were publicly acknowledged, was, at the time, in the midst of his fantasy film phase, having just completed the Italian rip-off of The Omen, entitled Holocaust 2000 (1977) and about to begin work on his back to back sci-fi films Saturn 3 (1980) and The Final Countdown (1980). Cassavetes would also complete a trio of genre favourites, remembered most notoriously in the role of Mia Farrow's ambitiously evil husband in Rosemary's Baby (1968) and soon to appear as a small town doctor trying to solve a series of  bizarre sex murders in the Canadian cult horror The Incubus (1982). As is his habit De Palma also cast actors from previous projects, including Amy Irving (Carrie) and Charles Durning (Sisters). Armed with such a wealth of talent in front of the camera, he was then able to concentrate on his visual realization of the screenplay written by John Farris, based on his own novel. Despite the ecstatic praises of seminal film critic Pauline Kael, De Palma had yet to fully convince the movie-going public that he could deliver the deliriously over-the-top sensory experience that would later become his trademark. With The Fury being his biggest budget to date, De Palma was determined to pull out all the stops. Nowhere was this more evident than in the film's two most famous set pieces, the exhilarating slow motion montage of Amy Irving's escape from captivity, and the jaw-dropping final fate of Cassavetes' black-clad boogey man. All set to a memorable operatic score by John Williams whose menacing melodies underscore the tragic fate of the entire cast, The Fury is prime De Palma, an unpredictably wild ride with one of world cinema's greatest visual stylists.  BLU-RAY

Thursday, 28 November 2013

NAKED BURT Part Three


STARTING OVER (1979: Dir. Alan J. Pakula)





Now that he had become the number one box office star in the world Burt Reynolds longed to put his acting chops to the test in a role that revealed the truth behind his ladies man image. He found it in television sitcom creator James L. Brooks' (The Mary Tyler Moore Show) first theatrical screenplay Starting Over. But despite his popular status he still had to audition for director Alan J. Pakula in order to secure the role of Phil Potter, a divorced part-time teacher pining for his narcissistic ex-wife (Candice Bergen). Burt has admitted that Potter is the closest he has ever come to revealing himself on-screen and it is certainly one of his bravest characterizations, one that walks the knife's edge between self-involvement and pity. By turns vulnerable, neurotic, charming, and pathetic, Burt, in a mustache-free performance, creates a totally believable portrait of an average man in mid-life crisis. He is evenly matched opposite his former Semi-Tough co-star Jill Clayburgh as the new woman in his life, a nursery school teacher recovering from her own failed relationship. Hers is a portrayal of such compelling strength of character and emotional sensitivity that she even threatens to win over the viewer's allegiance, in a battle of wills constantly challenged by the Burt's maladroit handling of their affair. For her memorable work, Clayburgh was awarded her second Best Actress Oscar nomination in a row. As an hilarious blithely off-key songstress, Bergen was also nominated, in the Best Supporting Actress category. Not surprisingly, Burt's sensitive portrayal was taken for granted by the Academy as well as by most critics, although the film did signal his future preferences for romantic comedies over the stunt-filled popcorn pictures that had brought him to the pinnacle of world stardom. He would remain at the top for three more years but he would never enjoy a leading role of such depth for rest of his career. DVD REGION 1 & 2

Tuesday, 26 November 2013

NAKED BURT Part Two


NICKELODEON (1976: Dir. Peter Bogdanovich)





Burt Reynolds tempted fate and friendship once again by re-teaming with Peter Bogdanovich, director of the disastrous musical At Long Last Love, to make this daring love letter to the earliest days of silent cinema. As the clean-shaven yokel trying to break into pictures, Burt gets to show off both his natural comic timing and physical dexterity in a unique role that veers from slapstick buffoon to matinee idol hero. The transition is of course signaled when he grows a mustache, this time of the pencil thin Clark Gable variety. Inspired by the nostalgic anecdotes of silent film pioneers Raoul Walsh, Leo McCarey, and Alan Dwan, this episodic odyssey follows the adventures of fledgling director Leo Harrigan (Bogdanovich avatar Ryan O'Neal), and his star Buck Greenway (Burt) as they brave life and limb amid the picaresque business of silent film-making. Conceived and constructed by Bogdanovich with the verve and humour of this burgeoning industry, Nickelodeon nonetheless suffers from a nagging artificiality due to its colour cinematography, and the studio imposed casting of older stars as opposed to younger unknowns. This is no reflection on the talents of Burt or Ryan, who are give it their all in demanding roles. Three decades after its fittingly successful release, Bogdanovich was able to revise the film for the better, converting the images to his preferred black and white format, and adding some scenes that were unfortunately dropped in response to preview audience's reactions. The film can now be enjoyed in the spirit in which it was made, as a warm-hearted salute to the men and women who forged film into the most important art form of the last century. DVD REGION 1 & 2

Monday, 25 November 2013

NAKED BURT Part One


HUSTLE (1975: Dir. Robert Aldrich)



It is common wisdom among the cognosenti that Burt Reynolds only gives a real performance when he isn't hiding behind his mustache. Sometimes this payed off for him with a genuine hit (Deliverance, White Lightning, The Longest Yard) but more often it resulted in critical and cult success rather than big box office. 1975 was a big deal for Reynolds with four films in release, the most theatrical exposure he would ever have in a single calendar year. Unfortunately, of these films, At Long Last Love and Lucky Lady would be the two most high profile flops of his career. The third, W.W. and the Dixie Dancekings, was a cult hit that would inaugurate his good ol'boy cycle of rascally roles. The remaining project would be the most personal, a re-uniting with his Longest Yard director and mentor Robert Aldrich. Co-produced by the two of them under their RoBurt banner, Hustle featured Reynold's most mature characterization to date, a cynical whiskey-drinking police lieutenant trying to keep his head above the criminal sleaze of Los Angeles. It doesn't help that he is shacked up with a French prostitute (Catherine Deneuve) who still plies her trade from the phone in their apartment. European in its sensibilities and tone, Aldrich uses French touchstones, (Deneuve, Charles Aznavour songs, Claude Lelouch movies) to convey a palpable sense of longing by the the two lovers for something slightly out of their reach, while at the same time paying homage to the undying support that Aldrich had always enjoyed from French critics. The film can also be seen as a bookend with Aldrich's Kiss Me Deadly (1955), a comparably seedy noir that prefigures the demoralized corruption of the Seventies. With nary a mustache-wearing smirk in sight, Hustle, despite precipitously low grosses during its original run, is a legitimate contender for Burt's most underrated film, a challenging, tragic, moving and melancholy masterwork. DVD REGION 1 & 2

Wednesday, 20 November 2013

MULTIPLE TRAINS OF THOUGHT Part Three


RUNAWAY TRAIN (1985: Dir. Andrei Konchalovsky)





Based on a screenplay by Japanese auteur Akira Kurosawa, Runaway Train, was the second American film by expatriate Russian director Andrei Konchalovsky and given the time when it was made, must be seen to represent this filmmaker's metaphorical statement about the inevitable end of the U.S.S.R.. In 1985 Mikhail Gorbachev had ascended to the chairmanship of the Communist Party and he brought with him new concepts of governance designated Perestroika (restructuring), and Glasnost (openess). Gorbachev's vision would emancipate the lives of average Soviets, gradually throwing off the shackles of a moribund political system. Konchalovsky, who had enjoyed a successful career making films in The Soviet Union, emigrated to the U.S. in 1980, and soon after was hired by Israeli producers Menachem Golan and Yoram Globus of Cannon Films, to make Maria's Lovers (1984), a critically acclaimed Yugoslavian-American immigrant love story. Their follow-up project was Runaway Train, and with its gulag-type setting in an Alaskan Prison, its dictatorial authority figues, and the lead role of an escaped convict played with a Russian bear-like intensity by Jon Voight, the obvious parallels with Konchalovsky's homeland are more than evident. Brilliantly structured to emphasize its thrilling genre pleasures, Konchalovsky carefully rolls out his existential themes, gearing up to an emotionally stirring climax when the liberated prisoners find themselves on an out of control speeding train. The final image of Voight's tragically bestial convict is depicted by the director with an exhilarating ferocity, an indelible image of a human being yearning for freedom. Riding a wave of enthusiastic reviews, the film enjoyed moderate box office success and garnered three Academy Award nominations, including Best Actor for Jon Voight, whose career was rejuvenated by this unforgettably visceral performance. Like the films' protagonists, the people of the Soviet Union would soon escape their oppressive Communist society, but their innate need for authoritarian leadership would lead them to another kind of despotic system under Vladimir Putin. The train may have left the station but it has yet to arrive at an unrestricted destination.  DVD & BLU-RAY

                                        NARROW MARGIN (1990: Dir. Peter Hyams)
                                                               






Finally, we come to a very personal favourite of the train films on this list, Peter Hyams' remake of Richard Fleischer's 1952 film noir The Narrow Margin. By no means the most exciting, best written or the best directed of the films I have chosen, it is simply the most Canadian. Set mostly on a VIA train travelling through British Columbia, the film tells the story of a mob murder witness (Anne Archer), being brought back to the U.S. to testify, under the protection of an ordinary Los Angeles D.A. (Gene Hackman). Having enjoyed countless trips on VIA trains throughout Canada, I am very familiar with the interiors and fixtures of the various carriages, so I was most excited and gratified to see a Canadian train authentically portrayed on the big screen. As the on board action unfolds, all of my fond memories were represented, from the crisp white uniforms of cabin attendants, to the practical coziness of the sleeping compartments, and the art deco formality of the dining car. Essentially an exciting potboiler, Narrow Margin, succeeds on the caliber of its very strong supporting cast, including Canadian actors Susan Hogan and Nigel Bennett, as well as charismatic character faces like J.T. Walsh, Harris Yulin and James B. Sikking. The film also features spectacular scenery of the Canadian Rockies breathtakingly captured in Panavision by director-cinematographer Peter Hyams. Pure nostalgia for VIA train lovers like myself and solid entertainment for anyone else. DVD REGION 1 & 2

Thursday, 14 November 2013

MULTIPLE TRAINS OF THOUGHT Part Two


Alistair MacLean's BREAKHEART PASS (1975: Dir. Tom Gries)



Agatha Christie's Murder on the Orient Express (1974) had been a big boost to the train movie genre, so producer Elliott Kastner, decided to cash in by reuniting with best-selling author Alistair MacLean (Where Eagles Dare), to adapt his mystery-western novel Breakheart Pass for the big screen. Starring a typically taciturn Charles Bronson at the height of his box office clout, this intriguing shell-game might be schematically similar to Christie with its conspiracies and red herrings, but being set on a troop train in 1870s America goes a long way towards providing variety for any jaded whodunit fan. Director Tom Gries, who was just coming off a big hit with Bronson in Breakout (1975), knew how to employ his star for maximum value, keeping him shrouded in secrecy as the rogue's gallery of passengers act out in all manner of amusing Western stereotypes. The guessing game is also enhanced by a plethora of cliffhanger-type thrills excitingly devised by veteran stunt co-ordinator Yakima Canutt (Ben-Hur). Add in an evocative and propulsive score by Jerry Goldsmith and you have a very pleasing Saturday afternoon's entertainment. DVD & BLU-RAY

                                           SILVER STREAK (1976: Dir. Arthur Hiller)
                                                                           





One of my favourite train movies and the first of two films on my list that utilize Canadian railway locations to rip-roaring effect. Set in the U.S. Midwest but shot mainly in Alberta, the home province of director Arthur (The In-Laws) Hiller, Silver Streak is a delightful comedy thriller with a screenplay by Colin Higgins (Foul Play) that mixes chuckles with jeopardy in near perfect proportions. The inspired pairing of Gene Wilder and Richard Pryor was a seminal pop-culture event, demonstrating how two apparently incompatible comic actors can create a unique alchemy when their mutual affinity for each other shines through. They are joined by Jill Clayburgh, whose subtle daffiness and sparkling beauty help to ground the actions of the other characters whenever the plot threatens to descend into outright silliness. For proud Ontarians, the climax is an absolutely unforgettable set-piece that sees a train engine burst through the The Great Hall of Toronto's Union Station. Witnessing this shocking smash-up left an indelible impression on my train-loving childhood self, and re-visiting the film recently has done nothing to dim this fond memory. DVD & BLU-RAY
                     
                        THE GREAT TRAIN ROBBERY (1978: Dir. Michael Crichton)







There have been many train heist films but only a select few involve a locomotive on the move. The Great Train Robbery is a slightly fictionalized recounting of the first train robbery ever attempted in transit, the 1855 Folkstone Great Gold Robbery. Immeasurably aided by writer-director Michael Crichton's unerring eye for accuracy and period detail, it was was however, a surprising change of pace for this auteur of speculative science fiction and medical thrillers. Surpassing expectations, Crichton delivers a jaunty and amusing caper film made with sophistication and wit, containing many visual delights including the luscious Lesley Anne-Downe in a super sexy corset, sumptuous Victorian production design by Maurice Carter (Becket), and the astonishing sight of star Sean Connery running and jumping across the roof of an actual train in full steam. Sadly the film contains the final completed work of famed cinematographer Geoffrey Unsworth ( Murder on the Orient Express, Superman), whose signature diffused lighting style brings to life a bygone era of gaslight and stove pipe hats. Fittingly, these larcenous shenanigans are set to the infectious melodies of maestro Jerry Goldsmith, the third in a trilogy of train dominated scores (Breakheart Pass, The Cassandra Crossing) that he wrote in the Seventies. Despite enthusiastic notices, The Great Train Robbery, met with only middling box office success, denying Connery the full-blown hit he had enjoyed as James Bond. DVD & BLU-RAY

Monday, 11 November 2013

MULTIPLE TRAINS OF THOUGHT Part One


LA BETE HUMAINE (1938: Dir. Jean Renoir)






As far as I'm concerned, if there is a film that takes place on a train I am hooked. The movies, of course began with trains. The Lumiere Brothers shot one of the earliest documentary short subjects Arrival of a Train (1895), and later Edwin S. Porter made the groundbreaking narrative drama The Great Train Robbery (1903). These films glorified the dynamism of trains, forever linking the motion of their linked cars with the 24 frames of celluloid that sped through the projector each second to form a moving image. My love of trains comes from long trips across all the regions of Canada where I grew to love the rocking motion of my cabin, the civilized formality of the dining car, and the spectacular views from the observation car. My ten favourite train films are not definitive but they are all compelling for their own reasons.

 I start not with Buster Keaton's The General or Hitchcock's The Lady Vanishes, but Jean Renoir who brilliantly visualized the hulking steel metaphor of a train to represent the lurking violence within train engineer Jean Gabin. The source of his turmoil is an unhealthy obsession for the wife of his co-worker, alluringly embodied by Simone Simon. Staged and shot by Renoir with a you-are-there type vigor, the scenes with Gabin performing actual duties on the rails are a thrilling example of the screen presence of locomotives and the men who work on them. DVD REGION 1 & 2


THE TALL TARGET (1951: Dir. Anthony Mann)







     A snappy low-budget B-film from noir auteur Anthony Mann, The Tall Target, chronicles a political assassination attempt aboard a pre-Civil War train and the lone police sergeant who foils it. The shock for contemporary audiences is when the names of the characters are revealed. The target is Abraham Lincoln, on the way to his inauguration, and the policeman protecting him, is named John Kennedy!! As the tense journey progresses, the lamp lit darkness of the train comes to represent the potential dangers in a country soon to tear itself apart. A stalwart Dick Powell anchors the action as Kennedy, valiantly negotiating his way through shadowy train compartments infested with deadly conspirators as Mann amps up the jittery paranoia. DVD REGION 1


       NORTHWEST FRONTIER a.k.a. FLAME OVER INDIA (1959: Dir. J. Lee Thompson)







India is one place where train travel is an entirely different experience for those used to rolling luxury. Often the roofs of the cars are crowded with people and this British production doesn't shy away from presenting these stifling primitive conditions as it details the dangerous escape by rail, of a young Hindu prince from India's volatile northern frontier. A sweeping epic, where a single train compartment manifests all the aspects of an imperialist power including its courage, politics, war, and racism. This microcosm includes memorable star turns from intrepid soldier Kenneth More, smoldering American governess Lauren Bacall, genial bureaucrat Wilfred Hyde White and glowering Dutch reporter Herbert Lom. Director J. Lee Thompson demonstrates a superb eye for orchestrating large scale action and it was this film that became his calling card to Hollywood, resulting in the last minute assignment to take over direction of The Guns of Navarone from Alexander Mackendrick. DVD & BLU-RAY

                                     THE TRAIN (1964: Dir. John Frankenheimer) 
                                                                                                       






During WWII , the most crucial form of transport was the railway. It provided vital weapons, food, and medical supplies to both sides. The Germans also used trains for the more nefarious purposes of forcibly transporting people and treasure. John Frankenheimer's The Train is the story of a train filled with stolen French art being evacuated by the Nazis in advance of the fall of Paris. Always striving for period realism, Frankenheimer shot the film in black and white, making it the last big scale war/action film of its type to be made in that format. It also would be Frankenheimer's first film shot on location in France, a country where he would make six more films and also call home. His affinity for the French culture is already in evidence, especially in his authentic use of character faces rather than matinee idol-types. The exceptions are star Burt Lancaster, whose emotional intensity and physical grace command the screen, and Jeanne Moreau as the personification of the resolute women who gallantly toiled for the French resistance. Loaded with memorable scenes of destruction, including the astounding crash of two full size train engines and the eye-popping detonation of an actual railway yard, requiring over 5000 pounds of explosives. All aboard for excitement!! DVD & BLU-RAY



                        EMPEROR OF THE NORTH POLE (1973: Dir. Robert Aldrich)






The Vietnam era had seen great social upheaval in America. Nixon's silent majority fought against the hippie call for peace and free love. Iconoclastic Liberal filmmaker Robert Aldrich wanted to make a statement about this volatile political generation. He chose a film set during the Depression when disenfranchised drifters rode the rails living their own individualistic existence. Stealing free rides could be dangerous, and Aldrich in his typical anti-authoritarian style makes the train conductor the fanatical villain. Lee Marvin, who excelled at representing the renegade on film, stars as A No. 1, a defiant tramp who is determined to ride the train overseen by Shack (Ernest Borgnine), a sadistic and lethal conductor with a pathological hatred of hobos. The third spoke of the wheel is the character Cigaret, a wide-eyed, seemingly harmless vagrant played by a 23 year old Keith Carradine. These three men are the world according to Aldrich and when Marvin finally confronts Borgnine, in one of the most visceral and violent man to man fights ever put on screen, the audience immediately senses that there is more at stake here than a simple train ride. For Aldrich these two opposing ideals will always be at odds no matter who wins, the tragedy comes from the spirit of youthful opportunism that takes advantage of such ideological intransigence. The film's notorious failure at the box-office provided further evidence of a blinkered society with no interest in an angry lament for its future. DVD & BLU-RAY




Thursday, 7 November 2013

MOVIES WRITTEN STONE Part Three


SILVER BEARS (1978: Dir. Ivan Passer)





If screenwriter Peter Stone ever wanted to re-visit the past glories of Charade he certainly had the raw material with Canadian banker Paul Erdman's novel Silver Bears. Some people confuse the heist genre with the con game genre. Both after all involve larceny and deception, however there are distinct differences. The nerve-wracking detail-obsessed suspense of a heist is a totally different flavour than the sleight-of-hand finesse of a confidence game. Silver Bears like Charade is a con game film, and a definite move away from the gritty milieu of The Taking of Pelham One Three. It is also Stone at his breezy best, returning to picturesque European and African locales, and populating his screenplay with cheerfully assured characters who are trapped in the quicksand of their own greedy natures. The late Seventies had seen the end of the Hollywood star-system, so if you couldn't cast a retired Cary Grant, then Michael Caine would suffice, and with Audrey Hepburn taking time off, perhaps Cybill Shepherd could fill in. Add a supporting group of dependable utility players: Louis Jourdan (faded Italian aristocrat), Stephane Audran (Persian exotique), Charles Gray (effete executive), Tom Smothers (uptight American), then place them in the fantasy-like world of high finance where the comedy can pleasingly percolate. The result is a tasty brew that never offends the palate. Erdman was convicted in absentia for his silver market swindle, our engaging heroes just steal the film. DVD REGION 2

Tuesday, 5 November 2013

MOVIES WRITTEN IN STONE Part Two


THE TAKING OF PELHAM ONE TWO THREE (1974: Dir. Joseph Sargent)





Stone with a harder edge. That would describe screenwriter Peter Stone's adaptation of John Godey's bestselling thriller about a New York Subway hijacking. As far away from his cloak and dagger jet setting style of Charade and its followup Arabesque (1966), The Taking of Pelham One Two Three is a loud nervy heist film, with overtones of urban terrorism. The mid-Seventies was an era of seeming lawlessness in New York City, with an impotent mayor Ed Koch unable to curb the rising crime rate. Despite being born in Los Angeles, Stone perfectly captures this New York state of mind, liberally applying salty vulgarities to escalate the squabbling tensions between the impatient politically-minded bureaucrats and their brash working stiff subordinates. A deadpan Walter Matthau stars, in his third Stone-authored script, as the wily Transit Authority cop, whose bloodhound-like mug is an immediate indication of  his crime-solving tenacity. Matthau's nemesis is a ruthless thief played by Robert Shaw with a cold remorselessness that is pleasingly contrasted with the cuddly warmth of his reluctant partner-in-crime Martin Balsam. As its action careens from one New York location to another, Stone thoughtfully provides the viewer with an omniscient vantage point, while never compromising the inherent suspense of each twist of the story as it relentlessly speeds towards its realistically small scale, but satisfyingly clever fade-out. DVD & BLU-RAY

Monday, 4 November 2013

MOVIES WRITTEN IN STONE Part One


CHARADE (1963: Dir. Stanley Donen)



"Everyone wants to be Cary Grant. Even me." These were the immortal words of Cary Grant, born Archie Leach, a former circus acrobat and vaudeville performer who remade himself as the most debonair movie star of all-time. Always a clothes horse, Grant knew how to look the part of a romantic figure but in order to get the girl, he also had to know what to say. Throughout his career he had been blessed with scripts by some of Hollywood's greatest screenwriters including Ben Hecht, Clifford Odets and Ernest Lehman. However, it wasn't until he had almost retired that he would work with his most simpatico wordsmith, Peter Stone.  It is a truism that all classic films start with a solid script and Peter Stone was a great screenwriter. His list of credits in film, television and theatre were enviable, having Oscar, Emmy and Tony awards to prove it. Taking Hitchcock as his model he helped perfect the comedy-mystery genre, starting with this, his first film Charade. With its picture postcard Paris setting, Charade combines all of the most successful elements of Grant's previous screen personas while simultaneously poking fun at them. Starring opposite a youthful Audrey Hepburn, Stone puts 59 year-old Grant through his comedic paces in a self-deprecating, and sometimes even goofy role that exploits his middle-age for appropriate comic effect. In the past Grant had sometimes strained for credibility with his much younger leading ladies but this time Audrey did all the chasing with Cary able to sit back and look bemused by his good luck. To accentuate his aging good looks and gentlemanly charm, Stone and director Stanley Donen, surround him with a rogue's gallery of character faces and types, including the vulgar brutality of George Kennedy, the knife-like precision of James Coburn and the hang dog charm of Walter Matthau. This near flawless cast has much to savour in the delicious wit of Stone's whip-smart dialogue, with Grant in particular playing his urbane banter to the hilt. Stone would soon win his Academy Award for co-scripting Father Goose (1964), Grant's penultimate film, thus confirming the promise of Charade's Edgar Award-winning success. DVD & BLU-RAY

Thursday, 31 October 2013

MY FAVOURITE HALLOWEEN HORROR


THE FOG (1980: Dir. John Carpenter)





I have a confession to make. I love the films of John Carpenter. For me, all of his work has merit, and I can honestly say that even his weakest films are entirely watchable. There is one however that always thrills me as if for the first time and it is The Fog. Coming after the perfection of his 1978 classic Halloween, it was inevitable that his next project would suffer from unreasonably high expectations but I think the film's imperfections contribute to its charm. Inspired by the depraved tales of vengeance depicted in the EC Comics of Carpenter's youth, the film begins in front of a campfire as the hypnotic tones of John Houseman recount to a rapt group of children, the story of greed and murder that begat the founding of Antonio Bay, a small coastal town in California. Within these few short opening minutes Carpenter himself demonstrates a similar control over the attention of his viewers, using sound, music, and lighting to introduce a palpable, otherworldly sense of dread, a mood that permeates all of his excursions in horror genre. Why do I love it so? The deep soothing voice of Adrienne Barbeau as the isolated disc jockey; the wind-swept lighthouse setting of her radio station; the spacious, anything-can-happen Panavision cinematography of Dean Cundey; the glowing red eyes of 20 year-old make-up prodigy Rob Bottin as the mute undead ship's captain, and the enveloping organic fog that precedes his crew of marauding zombies. These are just a sampling of the pleasures that I return to year after year, never tiring of Carpenter's droningly atmospheric synthesized score, or his unapologetic use of cheap "jump" scares. Far from being the assured filmmaker of his later years, Carpenter was forced to fix the film in post-production by adding many new suspenseful and savage scenes during tense re-shoots after a disastrously mild preview screening. The resulting patchwork is just another example of Carpenter's seamless craftsmanship, reaffirming my belief in him as an auteurist filmmaker with the true heart of an unabashed huckster. DVD & BLU-RAY

Tuesday, 29 October 2013

A NAZI STATE OF MIND Part Three


CROSS OF IRON (1977: Dir. Sam Peckinpah)





In any film when a German soldier is threatened with being ordered to the "Russian Front" a terrified expression always crosses his face. For decades this frigid hell-hole of war was a place that could only be imagined by audiences, until in 1977, when filmmaker Sam Peckinpah brought this dark chapter of Germany's history to the big screen. Funded by a West German soft-porn producer with artistic ambitions, directed by an alcoholic American auteur and filmed on a limited budget in remote Yugoslavia with an international cast and crew, this could have been one of the great follies in the history of War cinema. Instead these seemingly volatile elements combined to produce a flawed masterpiece. Based on the novel by Willi Heinrich, and told from the Nazi point of view, the idea that this gritty story of burnt-out soldiering could be a potential popular entertainment is nearly as suicidaly insane as Hitler's actual invasion. While there is little doubt that the hardships experienced by cast and crew contributed to the desperate atmosphere of the film, it also didn't help that the film featured a typically disillusioned Peckinpah protagonist/avatar played by James Coburn (Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid). The fates however, were pulling for Peckinpah, who, despite continuing health and addiction problems demonstrated that his filmmaker's eye for heart-pounding violence remained undiminished. Perhaps sensing that his career was winding down, Peckinpah made the film a sub rosa valentine to Coburn, who delivers a masterclass in cinematic magnetism as the stalwart Sgt. Steiner, battling his vainglorious commanding officers, while trying to protect his under-equipped platoon from the bone-chillingly merciless Russian landscape. Beset by constant on-set turmoil due to its precarious financing, the production eventually just ran out of money, resulting in the grim spectacle of its valiant director and his actors, improvising the ending as the cameras rolled. Despite such shortcomings, Orson Welles called it the finest anti-war film since All Quiet on the Western Front (1930), a view shared by much of Europe where its surprising success vindicated the bold ambition of all concerned. DVD REGION 1 & 2

Thursday, 24 October 2013

A NAZI STATE OF MIND Part Two


HITLER: THE LAST TEN DAYS (1973: Dir. Ennio de Concini)





After Dracula, Adolph Hitler is probably the most imitated villain in cinema history. Despite his ubiquitous association with goose-stepping silliness, Mel Brooks wasn't the first to reveal the risible qualities of the Nazis and their gesticulating founder. The Three Stooges were in fact the first satirists to take on Hitler in their 1940 two-reeler You Nazty Spy!. Later that same year Charlie Chaplin released his attack on Der Fuhrer in his masterpiece The Great Dictator. America had still not entered World War II, yet Hollywood was now less timid in criticizing the German Chancellor and his policies. During and shortly after the War, the role of Hitler was virtually owned by two actors, the first was Norwegian-born Carl Ekberg who played him five times, beginning with Citizen Kane in 1941. After the U.S. joined the Allies in 1942, American actor Bobby Watson became famous for his eerie facsimile in ten films including Hitler-- Dead Or Alive (1942),  and The Hitler Gang (1944). The first major biographical film on the subject wasn't produced until 1962's Hitler starring Richard Basehart in a studied interpretation that did little to capture the dictator's volatile persona. Another decade would pass before the most authentic and historically accurate English language impersonations of Hitler would reach audiences, those of Frank Finlay in the television production of The Death of Adolph Hitler (1973), and the major motion picture Hitler: The Last Ten Days, starring Alec Guinness. Finlay's may have given the more flamboyant madman performance, but Guinness plays the part with a greater range of emotion, from paternalistic arrogance to paranoid rage, sprinkled with brief moments of pathos and avuncular humour. His Adolph is not some unknowable monster, but an all too human bully boy with delusions of intellectual and artistic grandeur. It is a compellingly authoritative performance often cited by Guinness as one of his proudest achievements, and together with the film's utilitarian production design, combines to make this British-Italian co-production, a plausible adaptation of the eyewitness memoir by Gerhardt Boldt, an actual survivor of the Fuhrerbunker. At the time of the film's release it appeared that the public was expecting an account full of more juicy gossip and seamy dramatics, than the almost prosaic presentation that they got instead. It was however a turning point for Nazi cinema, and cleared the path for other lauded interpretations of Hitler, most notably those of Anthony Hopkins in the made-for-tv film The Bunker (1984) and the haunting portrayal of Hitler's final days by Swiss actor Bruno Ganz in Oliver Hirshbiegel's Downfall (2004). For those who believe in the value of history, all of these films present facets of iconic evil as a warning for generations to come. DVD & BLU-RAY

Wednesday, 23 October 2013

A NAZI STATE OF MIND Part One


THE NIGHT OF THE GENERALS  (1967: Dir. Anatole Litvak)





As a child I was fascinated by the Nazis. With their Germanic obsessiveness for colour coordinated uniforms festooned with Swatsikas and other sigils, the Nazis were the most enviously accessorized villains in television and cinema. They were, for generations of viewers, the perfect visual personification of evil elegance. During World War II and for many years afterward, there was a reluctance by filmmakers to tell stories from the German point-of-view. Their crimes were deemed so monstrous, that for simple entertainment purposes it was easier to portray them as cold adversaries rather than complex emotional human beings. This trepidation gave way in the Fifties with a few early films such as The One That Got Away (1957), an atypical British film detailing the astonishing true tale of a German pilot who escaped from numerous Allied prison camps. Pioneering productions such as this, told the stories of German war heroes who did not share the Nazi philosophy and were therefore sympathetic as protagonists. Exploring the pathology of Nazism from the inside, didn't really become acceptable until after the last great war crime trial of Adolph Eichmann, whose subsequent hanging in 1962 was a cathartic event for a world still scarred by Hitler's diabolical scourge. Published the same year, the novel The Night of the Generals by Hans Hellmut Kirst dared to expose the grisly sex murder of a prostitute by a member of the German High Command, and the subsequent internal investigation that exposes all manner of collusion and deviance among the Nazi hierarchy. Sensing an unprecedented opportunity to challenge conventions of habit and taste, producer Sam Spiegel (Lawrence of Arabia), purchased the rights to the book and proceeded to turn this WWII murder-mystery into one of his typical large cast super-productions. Attempting to paint a lurid portrait of Nazi moral corruption, Spiegel unfortunately hired Anatole Litvak, a Russian-born journeyman director who had previously directed the sensitive and atmospheric WWII drama Decision Before Dawn (1951), but now was mostly associated with anodyne Hollywood melodramas like Anastasia (1956). The results, despite being photographed on authentic Polish locations, had Litvak choosing camp villainy over true psychological horror. One's enjoyment of the film therefore depends upon an almost fetishistic love of eye-popping military regalia as brandished by the starry cast, including all-purpose foreigner Omar Sharif as a sober military investigator, and bottle blonde Peter O'Toole as a eye-rollingly unhinged SS General. It all amounts to epic cinema with enough Nazi-filled chicanery to please the twelve year-old in all of us. DVD & BLU-RAY

Monday, 21 October 2013

APOCALYPTIC VISIONS Part Three


THE LAST WAVE (1977: Dir: Peter Weir)


   

Mysticism is often scoffed at by a generally literal-minded public. Australian director Peter Weir was one of the first major Anglophone filmmakers to embrace it as a means to comment upon contemporary Western society. Beginning with Picnic at Hanging Rock, and followed by The Last Wave, Weir explored his sober belief in unexplained phenomena, resulting in a pair of financially successful and genuinely unsettling cinematic exercises that helped give international credibility and recognition to the nascent Australian film industry. The story tells of lawyer Richard Chamberlain, who, while defending an Aboriginal tribesman in a murder case, experiences mysterious and disorienting visions that lead him to a lost underground city hidden beneath contemporary Sydney. Much to his credit, Weir portrays native magic with admirable gravitas, utilizing authentic cultural instruments like the didgeridoo to create disquieting sound effects that are enhanced by cinematographer Russell Boyd's masterfully moody lighting, creating a disturbing sense of dread. Ultimately the film is a testament to Weir's unerring craftsmanship, confidently communicating to a naive audience the Aboriginal concept of "dreamtime", part of an animist mythology which includes the ability of the unconscious mind to relay Jungian archetypes across ancient and modern cultures. Prepare yourself for an enlightening excursion beyond the veil of perception. DVD REGION 1 & 2

Friday, 18 October 2013

APOCALYPTIC VISIONS: Part Two


THE FINAL PROGRAMME (1973: Dir. Robert Fuest)





There was no better match of talents than director Robert Fuest and novelist Michael Moorcock. Based on the first book in Moorcock's surrealistic Jerry Cornelius series, The Final Programme is the quintessential film by Fuest, a mercurial talent who began as a set designer and later found fame directing episodes of the pop-art British TV series The Avengers. Having had a recent success with The Abominable Dr. Phibes, followed by the relative disappointment of its sequel Dr. Phibes Rises Again, Fuest thwarted career complacency by writing, directing, and designing this oddball sci-fi satire, featuring another fashionably-clad insouciant hero. Star Jon Finch (Polanski's Macbeth) is the very personification of chocolate biscuit-eating anarchist Jerry Cornelius, exuding a Byronesque style with his frilly collars, black nail polish and polymorphous sexuality. Miss Brunner, played with tongue-in-cheek venom by the rangy Jenny Runacre (The Passenger), is his perfect hedonistic nemesis, and its their epic conflict that results in one of cinema's most genetically bizarre and ribald apocalypses. Sadly the film garnered only cult status, and the world was deprived of the further adventures of its singular and charismatic protagonist. DVD REGION 1 & 2

Thursday, 17 October 2013

APOCALYPTIC VISIONS Part One


COLOSSUS: THE FORBIN PROJECT (1970: Dir. Joseph Sargent)





Apocalypse movies are the most fashionable film genre of our post millennial age. Every week it seems there is a new release dedicated to visualizing the end of the world as we know it. The turmoil of the first decade of the second millenium, shared much in common with the transitional decade of the Sixties. Both decades contained great economic, social, political, and scientific upheaval. As 1969 drew to close, there was understandable trepidation in the air with the Vietnam war raging, the rise of the PLO, Woodstock, and man landing on the moon. It was also the year that ARPANET, the precursor the internet, was created. Funded by the U.S. Department of Defense, it was developed to link computers worldwide, revolutionizing communication and security. Based on the 1966 novel Colossus by British author Dennis Feltham Jones, Colossus: The Forbin Project, was an attempt to examine the issues raised by the burgeoning influence of computers, as it tells the the story of a sentient American super-computer that exceeds its programming by assuming control of all nuclear weapons, thereby blackmailing humanity into "peace". Not surprisingly the film was a failure at the box office, most likely due to its sterile paranoid atmosphere and humourlessly downbeat tone. Courageously, former television director Joseph Sargent eschewed  the casting of stars in the lead roles. The results bore unexpected fruit, with German actor Eric Braeden as the misguided scientist Forbin, along with Canadians Susan Clark (as his girlfriend/colleague) and Gordon Pinsent (as the US President!) all distinguishing themselves in memorable performances. Since 1970, the size of computers may have changed but the danger of sentience is still with us. BLU-RAY

Sunday, 13 October 2013

IMMORTAL SPECTRES FROM THE PAST Part Three


THE SHOUT (1978: Dir. Jerzy Skolimowksi )





The cinema-going experience has not always been the eardrum shattering experience that it is for today's audiences. Sound and music were once used much more sparingly to create unique environments and convey emotion. The Sixties and Seventies heralded the era when the music synthesizer moved from the abstract into the mainstream. This new sonic realm was the unique tapestry for the UK production of The Shout, directed by expatriate Polish filmmaker Jerzy Skolimowski. Still licking his wounds from the notorious failure of his recent film adaptations of Conan Doyle (The Adventures of Gerard), and Nabokov (King, Queen, Knave), Skolimowski followed up with this adaptation of a short story by another famous literary figure, British poet Robert Graves. The film begins and ends at a cricket match on the grounds of an asylum, where the character of Graves himself (Tim Curry), meets a menacingly mysterious figure (Alan Bates) who relates to him the story of how he inveigled his way sexually, and otherwise, into the lives of avant-garde composer John Hurt and his wife Susannah York. Exploring the power of shamanic aboriginal spells, including the terrifying ability to kill by shouting, the film deftly plays upon the viewer's skepticism by contrasting the modern technology used to create Hurt's otherworldly music, supplied by Tony Banks and Mike Rutherford of the prog rock group GENESIS, with the primal force of Bates' sonic tsunami. Enigmatic, eerie, and worth watching to witness Jim Broadbent, in his film debut, as a man driven convincingly insane by the supernatural forces at play. DVD REGION 2

Friday, 11 October 2013

IMMORTAL SPECTRES FROM THE PAST Part Two


DON'T LOOK NOW (1973: Dir. Nicolas Roeg)





Precognition is a tricky device to pull off in a film. To portray it poetically, without resorting to crude editing and cheap shock effects is the real prize, and no one has done it with more art and taste than Nicolas Roeg in Don't Look Now. Roeg, a former cameraman and cinematographer (Lawrence of Arabia, Petulia), was the reigning king of the flash-forward, a technique he often employed to give his films a kind of interior dream logic, thus injecting the audience deep into the minds of his protagonists. From James Fox's protean gangster in Performance (1970), to David Bowie's asexual alien in The Man Who Fell To Earth (1976), Roeg illustrated the fears and insecurities of these characters by inserting unsettling visions of past and future reality into the cinematic narrative of his films. As the grieving father on a working holiday in Venice, Donald Sutherland is another of Roeg's troubled heroes, and it is Roeg's bold visual and editing choices that make the morbid dread of Sutherland's tragic fate such a traumatic experience for audiences, leaving the shaken viewer with a very palpable sense of loss after the final credits roll. DVD & BLU-RAY

Thursday, 10 October 2013

IMMORTAL SPECTRES FROM THE PAST Part One

                                                                                                                                                 MALPERTUIS (1971: Dir. Harry Kumel)





Some films haunt you forever. Many years ago I had a film professor who showed us in class, his favourite cult film, the neglected Belgian fantasy-horror Malpertuis directed by Harry Kumel, famous for his outre vampire film Daughters of Darkness (1971). At the time I vowed not to be drawn in by his cultish obsession and despite being intrigued by its surreal imagery I put the film aside in my mind, but months later the worm turned. Without prompting, its dream-like properties started to surface again in my thoughts. Soon I was craving the experience of seeing it again if only to confirm its power over me. Unfortunately, the herculean lengths that my prof regaled us with, regarding attempts to acquire his pirated copy, had proven all too true. In the era of VHS, the film was unobtainable, except by the most clandestine of means. Bereft, all I could summon up in my mind were disconnected scenes of phantasmagorical characters, and indelibly malefic production design. In the meantime I read, and was suitably impressed by, the eponymous novel by Belgian fantasist Jean Ray, upon which the film was based. Finally in 2004, the Belgium Film Archive undertook a restoration, and in the process revealed that the version previously available was in fact a bastardized cut of the film, edited for its Cannes Film Festival premiere without the approval of its director. A two-disc all-region PAL DVD was released soon after, containing both cuts of the film and featuring a cornucopia of extras compiled by Kumel himself. Re-visiting the movie after decades of yearning was inevitably a slight disappointment, but shortly after seeing the directors' cut for the first time, its spell was cast over me anew. I luxuriated once again in its one-of-a kind casting of seemingly mis-matched European stars including a ferret-like Michel Bouquet, licking his lips over the girlish, sexy, and mysterious Susan Hampshire (in three roles), as an elephantine Orson Welles oversees the action from his engulfingly commodius bed. The audacity of its premise in an age before the unlimited special effects tools of CGI might limit its impact on contemporary audiences, regardless one cannot help but marvel at the nightmarish atmosphere Kumel created within his limited means. I still watch in awe, as it reaches its outlandish climax with a confidence of style and mood that makes Malpertuis a lost classic of its genre. DVD REGION 1 & 2