Without a doubt the most troubled production on my list, Rough Cut boasts not only two uncredited directors (Peter H. Hunt & Robert Ellis Miller), but four filmed endings. Nevertheless it is a treat for Burt fans, being his only attempt at a Cary Grant type role, an actor of whom he had always expressed great admiration. Originally a Blake Edwards project before his early departure, it became Burt's only film directed by Clint Eastwood's mentor Don Siegel (Escape From Alcatraz), a former Cambridge graduate whose personal Anglophilia was an asset for this made in England diamond caper comedy. Unfortunately a falling out between Siegel and tyrannical producer David Merrick led to the director's firing, rehiring, then permanent removal, resulting in a denouement completely re-written and shot by others. A bit of a dog's breakfast but a must for Reynolds and Siegel completists.
8.
PHOBIA (1980: Dir. John Huston)
The Paramount party poopers strike again! A particular obsession of mine is the general unavailability of Canadian films from the so-called "tax shelter era" between 1975 to 1982. Phobia was one of the higher profile movies from this busy period of production, not least because it was directed by Hollywood legend John Huston (The Maltese Falcon, The Man Who Would Be King). Huston returned to Toronto, the city where his father was born, to make this unique addition to his eclectic oeuvre, a Hitchcock style horror with a nearly all-Canadian cast. Seen at the time to be a crass slumming job for Huston, it was torn to pieces by the critics and soon forgotten. Also contributing to the film's negative reception, was its notoriety as the only feature film to star Paul Michael Glaser of Starsky & Hutch fame.An actor of limited charisma, his casting provided none of the box office draw required for this lower budgeted genre exercise. According to prominent Canadian film historian Gerald Pratley, a not unworthy film from Huston and one that is ripe for re-examination.
The spy film is my default genre whenever I am undecided about what to watch. There are only a handful of espionage movies that I do not own in one form or another, but at the top of my list is this cynical Seventies entry. Directed by Brit television veteran Cyril Frankel (The Baron, The Champions, Department S), Permission To Kill stars Dirk Bogarde as a chilly spymaster ruthlessly manipulating the lives of various men and women for government-sanctioned purposes as well as his own nefarious ends. Co-starring are Ava Gardner, one of Dirk's favourite leading ladies, Bekim Fehmiu, an unlikely Serbian sex symbol of the era, and future James Bond Timothy Dalton. I saw this film only once on VHS, and its final moments still linger in my memory nearly two decades later.
6.
LOOKING FOR MR. GOODBAR (1977: Dir. Richard Brooks)
Richard Brooks was a major filmmaker having directed such classics as Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and In Cold Blood, so when he decided to adapt Judith Rossner's controversial bestselling novel about the dangerous nightlife of a sexually promiscuous single woman, it seemed like a natural fit, one that paid off both critically and financially. Diane Keaton, in one her most vulnerable performances, is joined by a flawless supporting cast including Richard Gere and Tom Berenger in their first major roles, and the always fascinating Tuesday Weld, whose unpredictable career choices rarely paid off with such commercial success as this. Special mention must also go to the cinematography of William A. Fraker, whose chiaroscuro lighting bathes the film in suitably ominous textures. Yet another Paramount casualty of neglect, rumoured to be tangled up in nearly insurmountable music rights issues.
The life of a completist collector is often a frustrating one, especially when the final piece of the puzzle remains consistently beyond one's grasp. I am a devoted fan of Blake Edwards and his seminal jazzy television hero Peter Gunn, having acquired nearly all of Edwards' feature films and the entire 1958-1961 run of his Peter Gunn TV series. Then why can't I get my hands on Gunn, the feature film spin-off, that like many vintage Paramount productions, seems buried in a vault somewhere, never to see the light of day. I salivate as I read about its swinging Sixties style and risque plot twists dreamed up by screenwriter and author of The ExorcistWilliam Peter Blatty, but alas, I am resigned to gaze longingly at its kinetic poster campaign wishing for the miracle of its long-delayed reappearance.
4. FRAULEIN DOKTOR (1969: Dir. Albero Lattuada)
Another lost Paramount classic and for many years my most wanted film after an unforgettable viewing on A&E channel in the late Eighties. Fraulein Doktor is Sixties Euro-pudding at its finest, an Italian co-production shot in Yugoslavia with a predominantly British cast and co-written by three Italians, an Irishman and a Canadian, detailing the heart-stopping adventures of a female German counter-spy in World War I. Impressive for its careful balancing of large scale action with intimate drama resulting in a potent anti-war film that deserves to be expeditiously rescued from its imposed obscurity.
A little something different for a while as I chose ten films that I have always wanted to own but are not available in any officially sanctioned digital versions. Some I may have seen long ago and some I have longed to see. These are personal choices and in no way reflect artistic merit unless otherwise noted.
1.
I WALK ALONE (1948: Dir. Byron Haskin)
I have been a Burt Lancaster and Kirk Douglas fan forever, so not having access to I Walk Alone, their first appearance on film together seems unjust in the extreme. The film also marked the screen debut of Tony Curtis, another famous co-star of Burt's, as well as the directorial debut of Byron Haskin (War of the Worlds), one of the earliest special effects men to become a fully fledged filmmaker. Having no memory of ever seeing it, I cannot comment on its status as an important film noir. Until recently another film missing in action was Burt's other 1948 noir Kiss The Blood Off My Hands, a film with a haunting title cherished by every Lancaster fan.
2. THE STRANGER'S HAND (1954: Dir. Mario Soldati)
Novelist and film critic Graham Greene enjoys a sterling reputation for his cinematic contributions, both as a screenwriter and an author whose works have been adapted into numerous espionage and suspense dramas. His most lauded film was Carol Reed's The Third Man starring Orson Welles and Joseph Cotten. Trevor Howard and Alida Valli co-starred, and were opportunistically reunited five years later in another Greene adaptation, The Stranger's Hand, an Anglo-Italian co-production that has been unavailable in any home video format. I remember watching it twenty years ago on television in Halifax, and being struck by its atmospheric Venetian scenery, a rather obvious attempt to replicate the ominous shadows of The Third Man's fabled post-war Vienna setting.
There is nothing more dismal than enduring weeks of Valentine's Day commercialism when you have just experienced a bad break-up. My cinematic antidote of choice to such ubiquitous displays of affection is the thriller, Play Misty For Me, Clint Eastwood's directorial debut, and one of the most trenchant films from his entire 40+ years behind the camera. Based on a story idea by co-screenwriter Jo Heims, this nail-biting nightmare is the prototype film of romantic obsession gone horrifyingly wrong. While its values are firmly rooted in the swinging Seventies, the entirely plausible scenario continues to resonate due to Eastwood's clear understanding of his main characters, Dave Garver (Eastwood), a jazz d.j. who reads poetry to his lovelorn listeners, and Evelyn Draper (Jessica Walter), a delusional fan whose one night stand with Garver spirals into a paranoid fixation. Walter's barnstorming performance is the film's raison d'etre, veering from girlishly sexy, to sympathetically vulnerable, and finally, violently dissociative. The girlfriend from hell may now be a genre stereotype, but Walter got there first, and her seminal interpretation has the edge on all successors. Although a neophyte film-maker, Eastwood shows remarkable tonal maturity, wisely establishing the perceived sexual freedom of the era before he carefully unleashes the full psychopathic threat of his female antagonist. It is a deft balancing act best represented by the way pianist Eastwood uses music to convey the suspense surrounding the relationships on screen, such as underscoring the romantically pastoral interlude between Garver and his girlfriend Tobie (Donna Mills) with Roberta Flack's signature hit The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face, or staging a tense scene during a crowded Cannonball Adderley concert at the Monterey Jazz Festival. To shore up his confidence, Eastwood cast close friends in featured parts including veteran director Don (Dirty Harry) Siegel in a rare acting role as Garver's bartender pal, and memorable character face John Larch, Clint's golfing partner at the time, as the powerless policeman assigned to the Garver's harassment case. That same year, Heims would contribute, without credit, to Eastwood's mega hit Dirty Harry, but most importantly she would write the screenplay to his much overlooked May-December romance Breezy (1973), the first film he directed in which he did not appear. There had always been the rumor of a romantic relationship between these two creative partners, but sadly Heims early death at 48 years old robbed them of any further collaborations. Her feminine point of view would prove to be an important lasting influence on Clint, paving the way for his future feminist films, Tightrope (1984), Heartbreak Ridge (1986), and The Bridges Of Madison County (1995). DVD & BLU-RAY
Following the critical success of The QuillerMemorandum, Michael Anderson continued to attract star power and prestige with two bold Catholic chronicles, the underrated ecclesiastical/philosophical/geo-political thriller The Shoes of the Fisherman (1968), and the medieval drama Pope Joan (1972), Anderson's most troubled feature which was later shortened and re-released as The Devil's Imposter. Both were physically and artistically challenging productions as were his next two films, Doc Savage: The Man of Bronze (1975), a campy pulp fantasy, and Conduct Unbecoming (1975), a claustrophobic courtroom drama, both hampered by their respective penny-pinching producers. Logan's Run (1976), a hit adaptation of the well-regarded dystopian novel followed. It became Anderson's second highest grossing movie, finally breaking his string of box office disappointments. Riding this fresh wave of popularity, he was approached by Italian producer Dino De Laurentiis to direct Orca, the follow-up film to Dino's mega-production of King Kong (1976). With a script by Sergio Leone alumni Luciano Vincenzoni (The Good The Bad & The Ugly) and Sergo Donati (Once Upon A Time in the West), De Laurentiis sought to combine the unrelenting suspense of Jaws with the pathos of Kong. Remembering the notorious logistical problems experienced by Spielberg and his crew, De Laurentiis wisely chose Anderson, an expert in open water shooting with two previous ocean epics under his belt The Wreck of the Mary Deare (1959), and Flight From Ashyia (1964). This mindfulness paid off, with the film's 6 millon dollar budget being well spent on a story that has stood the test of time as the only serious rival to Jaws. Anderson knew that two elements needed to be totally believable in order to sell the film's slightly preposterous premise, the orca and his nemesis. Relying on past loyalties, Anderson cast Richard Harris in the lead, an actor he had discovered and prominently featured in two of his previous films, the Dublin shot IRA drama Shake Hands with the Devil (1959) and the aforementioned Mary Deare. Harris, with his baleful blarney charm, is both sympathetic and morally dubious as a fishing boat captain who, while trying to capture a male killer whale, accidentally kills its female mate and her unborn offspring. Played by a convincing combination of animatronic and live aquarium whales, the cunning creature then relentlessly stalks Harris for bloodthirsty revenge. Not surprisingly, what may have seemed a mawkish yarn to audiences of the Seventies, now plays to our more environmentally conscious culture as an allegorical tragedy, assisted in no small part by the scenic Newfoundland-shot cinematography of Ted (Thunderball) Moore, and Ennio Morricone's emotive, heart-wrenching score. Marketed unsuccessfully as an exploitation picture by Dino De Laurentiis, Orca was envisioned by Anderson as something much more unsettling, a dark fable of mutual destruction, that at its core, is a sincere plea for respect and understanding amongst the many lifeforms of our fragile planet. DVD REGION 1 & 2 Blu-ray
THE QUILLER MEMORANDUM (1966: Dir. Michael Anderson)
The Sixties were a busy period for Michael Anderson. Although he didn't enjoy the success to rival Around The World In Eighty Days, he did work with a panoply of Hollywood legends including: Gary Cooper, Deborah Kerr, Richard Widmark, Yul Brynner, Tony Curtis, Sophia Loren, and George Peppard. Anderson's dream project was to film Harold Pinter's adaptation of the Robin Maugham novel The Servant. Unfortunately after much effort and Pinter's unwavering support, he was unable to secure financing so he sold the property to American expatriate director Joseph Losey, who made the acclaimed film in 1963 starring Dirk Bogarde. Pinter was always appreciative of Anderson's valiant efforts, so he offered to write for him another more commercial script, this time adapting the first of Elleston Trevor's Quiller novels The Berlin Memorandum. The resulting film re-titled The Quiller Memorandum,turned out to be a high point of Anderson's entire output, featuring Pinter's uniquely rhythmic dialogue, full of pauses and repetitions, underscoring the obfuscatory espionage practiced by every character on screen. As expected, Anderson assembled a talented pool of actors, including star George Segal in his second top-billed role as the eponymous Quiller, an intrepid agent assigned by British intelligence to ferret out neo-Nazis in West Berlin. Although the idea of altering Quiller's British nationality was a commercial one, it allowed Segal to bring an effortless New York Jewish warmth to his performance, thus humanizing his isolated foreigner as he interacts with a rogue's gallery of cool Germans and stiff Brits. Quiller's worthy adversary is Oktober, a knuckle-cracking Nazi played with witty relish by Max Von Sydow. Often employed in sinister roles, the lanky blonde Swede was ideally suited to the role of a cultured Aryan interrogator, with his commanding voice amplified and imposing height maximized, by the vaulted ceilings of his secret headquarters. As a menacing presence, he is in stark contrast to Quiller's stuffy British superiors, played by George Sanders, Robert Flemyng, and Alec Guinness, who in an obvious Pinter touch, are depicted as a ludicrous cabal of food-obsessed social snobs. An unusually smart and cynical suspenser, The Quiller Memorandum remains largely forgotten today in a culture dominated by successful brands like James Bond and John Le Carre. It's sole lasting legacy may be the title song Wednesday's Child, sung by Matt Munro, composed, along with the film's haunting score by John Barry, and employing the exotic sound of the cimbalom, a Hungarian hammered dulcimer that Barry had used in the previous year's soundtrack to the first Harry Palmer spy film The Ipcress File. Once again Anderson demonstrated a great ear for marrying music with imagery, a talent that would serve him well in the future. DVD REGION 1 & 2
