Farewell, Maria Rohm and Deanna Lund

Earlier this week, word came of the passing of Austrian actress Maria Rohm, who had starred in numerous films produced by Harry Allan Towers, whom she married in 1964. In her earliest films - THE MILLION EYES OF SU MURU, THE VENGEANCE OF FU MANCHU, THE HOUSE OF 1000 DOLLS - it must be said that she did not make much more than a picturesque impression, but when Towers began working with Jess Franco in 1968, she became a primary focus of the films that followed - 99 WOMEN, THE GIRL FROM RIO, MARQUIS DE SADE'S JUSTINE, and most particularly VENUS IN FURS, EUGENIE... THE STORY OF HER JOURNEY INTO PERVERSION, and COUNT DRACULA, in which her roles became exquisitely tailored to her capabilities. Since her husband's death in 2009, Rohm - whom he called "Schnitzel" - lived in relative seclusion in Toronto, and dealt with recurring bouts of ill health. In 2013, she arranged for Bear Manor to publish her husband's autobiography MR TOWERS OF LONDON: A LIFE IN SHOW BUSINESS. I was fortunate enough to befriend Maria through Facebook for several years, and it was a pleasure to witness her pleasure at seeing her work discovered and appreciated by new generations on DVD and Blu-ray. She was 72.

Farewell also to actress Deanna Lund, best-remembered as a cast member of Irwin Allen's LAND OF THE GIANTS, though she was also a frolicking bikini girl in STING OF DEATH, one of the androids who marched out of Dr. Goldfoot's Bikini Machine, the temptress known as Tuff Bod who lured spy Jonathan Daly in the cult classic OUT OF SIGHT, Anna Gram - the moll to John Astin's Riddler on BATMAN, and a passing gleam in Elvis Presley's eye in two of his movies (PARADISE HAWAIIAN STYLE and SPINOUT). She also worked with Jim Wynorski in TRANSYLVANIA TWIST. So much Baby Boomer pop culture packed into a shapely nutshell, she was 81.

(c) 2018 by Tim Lucas. All rights reserved.

Reviewed: THE ISLAND OF DR. MOREAU (1977)

Burt Lancaster as Dr. Moreau.

It shouldn't come as too much of a surprise that this second filmed version of H.G. Wells' 1896 novel THE ISLAND OF DR. MOREAU is tonally similar to PLANET OF THE APES (1968): it was directed by Don Taylor (ESCAPE FROM THE PLANET OF THE APES), its half-human supporting cast are adorned with similar facial appliances by Oscar-winning makeup artist John Chambers (assisted by Dan Striepeke and Tom Burman), and Michael York strikes a respectably Hestonian figure as the shipwrecked sailor hero. Approaching his title role with customary poise and eloquence, Burt Lancaster is the cinema's only Moreau whose brilliance an audience can believe. He's not a camped-up autocrat with a messianic complex; when he strikes a messianic pose to keep his creatures in line, it's not a pose but the well-earned authority of a man who has played Moses. Nevertheless, he is deranged and his derangement is subtle enough to be plausible, his isolation from society having led him far afield of matters of morality and conscience, which York's accidental arrival brings suddenly to bear. There is a mutual respect, a cerebral spark between the two men that legitimizes York's questions and begins to slowly deconstruct the unassailable world this outcast has built for himself. What becomes particularly clear in this telling is that Moreau's misanthropic experiments, supposedly undertaken for the benefit of a mankind he has eschewed, have resulted in volatile conditions wherein any independent action runs the risk of producing truly Biblical consequences. In this respect, this oft-overlooked version remains more potent than either Erle C. Kenton's 1932 classic or the 1996 John Frankenheimer version shanghaied by Marlon Brando.

Barbara Carrera and Michael York.

Revisiting the film again after a gulf of 40 years, I find that it has aged remarkably well: the supporting roles of Nigel Davenport, Richard Basehart (as the Sayer of the Law), and Barbara Carrera well complement the two commanding leads; Gerry Fisher's cinematography (though occasionally marred by haphazard subjective insert shots during action scenes) is appropriately scenic and humid; the dramatic scenes are well-written; the action scenes feature some impressive stuntwork, and Lawrence Rosenthal's exotic, primitive score finds an appeal similar to that of Jerry Goldsmith's original APES music. I was also pleasantly surprised to learn that M'Ling, Moreau's half-human majordomo, was played by Nick Cravat - Lancaster's acrobatic partner in so many wonderful 1950s films like Jacques Tourneur's THE FLAME AND THE ARROW. 

Remarkably, this was one of the last horror films to be distributed by American International and presented by Samuel Z. Arkoff, though nothing about it strikes an AIP vibe. Well... except for some unfortunate editorial meddling. Alas, the film's reputation was initially hobbled, and unfortunately will likely remain so, by the way it dances around the important issue of Carrera's female lead Maria. Of course, Maria is the analog of Kathleen Burke's "Panther Woman" character in the pre-code 1932 version. However, due to a fairly early scene in which she and York consummate their attraction, it was decided to skirt the issue of  bestiality and to leave her exact nature ambiguous, to make the difference between a GP and an R rating. Alternate endings were reportedly planned or shot (in one of them, Maria was to give birth in the escape boat to a litter of kittens!), and Kino Lorber's handsome Blu-ray disc includes (with two bonus trailers) a single close-up image of Carrera in semi-feline makeup, which a sloppy edit snips out of the climax. Without this necessary jolt, there is no complexity to the ending and the thought-provoking film ends with a simple implied rescue and no further consequences from the adventure. Marvel Comics produced a graphic novel adaptation (script by Doug Moench, pencils by Larry Hama and inks by Jess Jodloman) that retained the original ending:

Thanks to Gary Teetzel for bringing this to my attention.

The disc's aspect ratio is 1.85:1 and it upgrades the previous DVD release with the theatrical 2.0 stereo mix. 

If you don't mind going into a picture whose endgame is disappointment, there is much here to reward your time, not least of all York's powerful portrayal of a man resisting the chemically induced reversion to animal instincts. In his work here, one can see a rare antecedent of what David Cronenberg and Jeff Goldblum achieved in THE FLY. 

(c) 2018 by Tim Lucas. All rights reserved. 

RIP Janine Reynaud (1930-2018)

"In Corfu, Lorna Green. In Capri, Lorna Green. In England, Lorna Green. In Lisbon, Lorna Green. I love everything and everyone that reflects Lorna Green." - SUCCUBUS (1967)

Farewell to one of the most iconic of Jess Franco stars, Janine Reynaud, who so imperiously embodied Lorna Green in his breakthrough film NECRONOMICON (aka SUCCUBUS) as Lorna Green (pictured), and was also prominently featured opposite Rosanna Yanni in the “Red Lips” entertainments SADISTEROTICA (aka TWO UNDERCOVER ANGELS) and KISS ME, MONSTER. 

She also worked for directors Antonio Margheriti, Max Pecas, José Benazéraf, and Sergio Martino along the way, appearing in such films as KILLERS ARE CHALLENGED, CASTLE OF THE CREEPING FLESH, I AM A NYMPHOMANIAC, FRUSTRATION, CASE OF THE SCORPION’S TAIL and BLINDMAN (in which she plays a remarkably minor part, no more than an extra, but must have done so for the privilege of working with Apple and Ringo Starr). She was married for a time to her frequent co-star, the equally mysterious and bizarre Michel Lemoine - it’s unfortunate their undoubtedly fascinating story will remain untold - and later retired to Texas while he remained in Paris. 

Au revoir, Madame - and thank you for the fantasies.

DEATH SMILES ON A MURDERER Previewed

It has happened once or twice that I've come aboard a project as audio commentator not quite knowing in advance what I'm going to bring to it, but feeling an intuition I should proceed. Such was the case with Arrow's DEATH SMILES ON A MURDERER, directed in 1973 by Joe D'Amato under his real name of Aristede Massaccesi. This afternoon, I zoomed through an advance screener - not as in "fast-forwarded," but as in "enraptured." I am so proud of this whole package, I could burst.

It wasn't a movie I knew well and, to be perfectly honest, I'm not a big D'Amato fan, generally - but when I revisited DEATH SMILES before making my decision to sign on, I sensed that it was not an opportunity to be missed. To my surprise, I could see something in it that I immediately felt a need to share with other people - not unlike why I'm posting this blog entry today. Almost as soon as I started working on the commentary, I felt a strange alchemy at work that was undoubtedly brought on by Berto Pisano's score, one of the most spellbinding in Italian horror; I found myself responding to the film's images and their poetry rather than their meaning or their production history minutiae. It was unexpected and delightful.

Klaus Kinski and Ewa Aulin.

I couldn't be happier with the extras. Kat Ellinger has contributed a marvelous video essay on the full breadth of Joe D'Amato's work, a much-needed addition to the package; then there is also a brief archival interview of D'Amato talking about the film, about 5m long. My commentary is more of a shot-by-shot "reading" of the film, an appreciation and analysis of the film itself, rather than a documentation of the filming, though I cover some of that, as well. I think I took a step up with this one. But the icing on the cake is a 40+ minute camera interview with the elusive Ewa Aulin herself.

Greta von Holstein - Avenging Angel.

Not at all what I expected, Ewa is not one of those fashion models who puts her nose in the air and dismisses her genre films. No - she dismisses the fluff like START THE REVOLUTION WITHOUT ME! It's the genre films she understands, appreciates, and articulately defends as works of art! She loves Tinto Brass and Giulio Questi and she speaks  speaks warmly and with engagement about working with D'Amato, too! I was completely charmed by her; I could have listened to her talk all night! She is the epitome of a cultured European artist and audience - and the tomes on the bookcase behind her during the interview, thick books on the visual arts, only support this.

Arrow's DEATH SMILES ON A MURDERER will be streeting in the UK on May 21, then here in the States on the day after. Mark this baby down as a must-have.

(c) 2018 by Tim Lucas. All rights reserved.

RIP Pamela Gidley (1965 - 2018)

I'm particularly saddened to see this one go.

A former Wilhelmina fashion model, she won the crown in the second annual Most Beautiful Girl in the World competition in Sydney, Australia, in 1985 at the age of 19, making her an instant draw for the movies. She was unforgettably sexy in Steve De Jarnatt's CHERRY 2000 (1987) and Mike Figgis' LIEBESTRAUM (1991 - a masterpiece, I thought) and unforgettably tragic as Teresa Banks in David Lynch's TWIN PEAKS FIRE WALK WITH ME (1992). Has anyone ever played a more believable corpse? Outwardly cool and mysterious, with a kittenish demeanor, she had an intimate voice, an aura of danger, and a taunting look that suggested she was amused to find out whether you would succeed or fail with her - she’d get her kicks either way.

As feature options dwindled, she gravitated to series television with continuous roles in STRANGE LUCK, THE PRETENDER, CSI: CRIME SCENE INVESTIGATION (covering the first three seasons) and SKIN, and she also directed a short film of her own (I JUST FORGOT) in 2004. Unfortunately, her screen credits end about 12 years ago, though she was included in the recovered deleted scenes of FIRE WALK WITH ME.

She had a rare magnetism - strong, even street-tough, yet somehow otherworldly and ethereal too - and I often wondered what had become of her. Looking over her filmography, I see that I have some catching up to do. It has been reported on her Wikipedia page that she died in her New Hampshire home on April 16, at the age of only 52. No cause mentioned.

(c) 2018 by Tim Lucas. All rights reserved.

Third Crepax Volume Now Available

A few days ago, I became aware that the EVIL SPELLS, the third volume of Fantagraphics’ complete works of Guido Crepax, has been out since January. I was able to find a copy at a welcome reduced price and just finished perusing it. I thought some of my readers might like to know that, in addition to Crepax’s adaptations of JEKYLL AND HYDE, THE TURN OF THE SCREW, and three Poe stories (entitled “Three Gialli”), this volume contains his legendary masterpieces about Valentina and Baba Yaga; I’m not sure if these have ever been published before in English. 

Adding further contextual interest is a four-page interview with director Corrado Farina, conducted the year of his death (2016), about the film he based on these stories (BABA YAGA aka KISS ME, KILL ME, 1971). There is also a  marvelous introduction by Barbara Uhlig that discusses the whole Italian movement of comics films and the rise of the giallo, and extensive notes on each story. 

There is also a tidbit in Ms. Uhlig's essay that I wish I had unearthed while preparing my commentary for THE WITCHES... that Italian feminists of this era called themselves “Le streghe” because they were fed up with being considered “good girls.” Considering the general lack of supernatural elements in the Dino De Laurentiis production, this eureka sheds intriguing new light on the proceedings that might have been fruitful to explore.

(c) 2018 by Tim Lucas. All rights reserved.

Recent Viewings: THE ORGY AT LIL'S PLACE (1963)

Ann, a young woman from a small town, travels to the Big Apple in the 1960s in hopes of becoming an actress. In doing so, she finds it sometimes necessary to take some odd jobs to make ends meet, but she has the constant support of a boyfriend who believes in her.

No, I haven't decided to review Season One of THAT GIRL! I'm talking about the legendary "lost" Adults Only film, THE ORGY AT LIL'S PLACE (1963)! 

In one of the biggest buried headlines in home video history, this tantalizing title - long assumed to be, along with numerous early Andy Milligan titles, a fatality of the bonfires to which distributor William Mishkin assigned prints of his properties that stopped paying their keep in rental fees - has turned up as a bonus co-feature on Vinegar Syndrome's Blu-ray disc of PICK-UP, a mystical 1973 skin-flick directed and photographed by Bernard Hirschenson, the award-winning cameraman who also shot DAVID AND LISA, SATAN IN HIGH HEELS, the "Keep America Beautiful" ad with Iron Eyes Cody, and... THE ORGY AT LIL'S PLACE.

Directed by Jerald Intrator under the name J. Nehemiah, THE ORGY AT LIL'S PLACE was shot in and around New York City in 1962. In the biggest of the film's surprises, future director Del Tenney (THE HORROR OF PARTY BEACH, THE CURSE OF THE LIVING CORPSE) is credited as assistant director, and furthermore plays what is ultimately the film's male lead, the heroine/narrator's boyfriend Charlie, working under the name "Bob Curtis." At the eponymous orgy (where a group of NY socialites play Strip Dice, a game that quickly turns into Just Roll the Dice and Laugh), he even performs a couple of stanzas of a folk song. In his capacity as assistant director, it seems likely that Tenney may have handled all the second unit NYC travelogue material, which is actually the film's most impressive content. 

The real ace in the film's deck was its cinematographer Bernard "Bernie" Hirschenson, a former GI cameraman whose other achievements include DAVID AND LISA, the "Keep America Beautiful" ads with Iron Eyes Cody, and SATAN IN HIGH HEELS. The ads for the film looked sordid, but the cinematography is excellent throughout and effectively captures the greatest American city at its greatest. For most Adults Only films of this period, a big screen is hardly a requirement but if you have one, it's going to add a great deal to the film's scenic impact. 

 

The film was successful and attracted a good deal more than the usual mainstream attention; it's rumored to have found its way into at least one Johnny Carson monologue. But somehow it disappeared from any and all circulation until a near-pristine print was recently discovered on file at the Kinsey Institute, where a collection of erotic films had been maintained. I assume there might have been a problem with Kinsey letting the film out of their hands for commercial use, but Vinegar Syndrome was able to acquire it for use as a free bonus feature through the American Genre Film Archive. Otherwise, I suspect ORGY would be the A-title here.

And despite that harsh and somewhat sleazy title, THE ORGY AT LIL'S PLACE turns out to be a surprisingly wholesome movie about - as I mentioned - a small town girl ("Carrie Knudsen" = Kari Knudsen) who joins her sister ("June Ashlyn" = June Ashley) in NYC with naïve dreams of becoming an actress and gets work as a model on some torrid projects. There are nightgown and bubble bath assignments, even a couple of Bondage spreads. She takes on the work in good humor; it’s a living. It's remarkable in light of where the movies generally took such stories in subsequent years, but nobody gets hurt, nobody gets mugged, nobody rubs up against the Mob, nobody gets raped, nobody even gets their career ruined or heart broken for not coming across sexually. Call it naïve, but ORGY seems to have been made with unusual care to appeal to female viewers, unusual for adult films at this time - and the silvery black-and-white photography actually explodes into full color when all our heroine’s dreams come true. 

Among the cast members is '70s soap star Robert Milli (billed as "R.M. Miller"), who had also appeared in Graeme Ferguson's THE SEDUCERS (1962 - written by Wilson Ashley - any relation to June?) and played a key role in Tenney's THE CURSE OF THE LIVING CORPSE (1971).

Oh, and this guy strikes me as familiar, maybe with slightly more gray in his har. Does anyone recognize him? If so, drop me an email or message me on Facebook.

Buy PICK-UP (with THE ORGY AT LIL'S PLACE) here.

(c) 2018 by Tim Lucas. All rights reserved.

Claudia Cardinale at 80

I’ve told the story here, at least a couple of times, about how I first saw ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST by accident as the unexpected half of a double feature, and how it so unexpectedly and completely moved me in ways to which my 12 year old self was accustomed that I left afterwards without seeing the Elvis Western I’d come to see. I knew Elvis couldn’t possibly compete with what I’d just experienced, so I picked up my coat and I left. I look back on this moment as the first adult decision of my life.

I was moved by a lot of different things about the film, but I now realize that its female lead Claudia Cardinale - who turned 80 yesterday - gave what was probably the first truly dimensional, empathetic portrayal of a woman I had ever seen in a film. Jill McBain is introduced as a New Orleans hooker who had the good fortune to catch the eye of a rich, romantic widowed landowner. She moves to join him and steps off the train to find him and his three children massacred for standing between some dangerous men and a goal they cravenly coveted - the raw lumber and iron necessary to build a town called Sweetwater, which Jill had somehow inspired in a heart no longer beating.

Jill is not your usual heroine; she is more of a look behind the scenes of a traditional western heroine’s life as she fights to survive and claim what she has earned. Throughout the film she is attended by three different men, each of them vultures of a kind and, in addition to whatever else the story eventually settles, the film is about how these three men interact with her and how her heart finally settles on one of them, who isn’t the worst one but really isn’t the right one either. When we meet her, she is one kind of illusion, the kind of woman whose promenading glance and well-turned ankle that might inspire a man to look at a handful of dust and dirt and believe in a place called Sweetwater. Then her life is blindsided by tragedy and the need to understand what has happened to her dreams and why. To learn the answers, she must navigate her way through the mysterious intersecting motives of these three men. By the end of this journey, she has gone from being confused by the name Sweetwater to becoming a literal waterbearer for the town springing up around her and the first train rails to connect the two halves of America from east to west.

Jill wasn’t the first woman of her kind in a western, but she was the first one I ever encountered. What she taught me that day at the movies, some men never learn.

Auguri e grazie, Claudia Cardinale.

(c) 2018 by Tim Lucas. All rights reserved.

Recent Viewings: THE PSYCHOPATH (1966)

Margaret Johnson in her doll palace.

There is an Amicus production I’ve known for about 15-20 years and have never really liked at all: Freddie Francis' THE PSYCHOPATH. 

Since its original release in 1966, the Paramount release has been all but impossible to see - except in a pan-and-scanned copy that first ran on TNT with commercial interruption way back when I first taped it, eager to see one of the more important titles that eluded me back in the day. It more recently ran on TCM in the same ugly copy. But this past week it was released on Blu-ray by Kino Lorber in an actual Techniscope presentation. Imagine how these frames would have looked cut in half to fit your TV screen...

Patrick Wymark interrogates the principal cast.

 

 

I am surprised to report that I have done A COMPLETE TURNAROUND! With the full frame revealed, with the contrast corrected, the film has a marvelous look, with a strong cast and an Elisabeth Lutyens score with a eerie lullaby motif. I believe there may also have been a scene or two cut from the version I had previously seen, as some girly photos are taped to a man’s wall, a bit stronger than Paramount would have allowed for an all ages matinee movie in 1966. Not to mention half the screen was missing in every shot of that TV print! Admittedly, the Robert Bloch script is a little obvious, but the actors are top notch and the team responsible for THE SKULL are turning the screws as ably as ever, with some masterful compositions and set pieces.

Judy Huxtable and Alexander Knox.

Seeing it this way, it is also much easier to appreciate that director Freddie Francis must have seen a Bava film or two by this time, because we get some of his giallo atmospherics - the scattered dolls, the strobing lights, the victim trying to elude her killer while wearing a candy apple red mackintosh out of BLOOD AND BLACK LACE. Indeed, this film can now be taken into account as a likely inspiration for some of Argento’s later imagery, and his uses of murder fetishes, particularly in DEEP RED (1975). As the title suggests, Bloch’s script is a quirky elaboration on his PSYCHO - it’s a more baroque study of a somewhat similar, somewhat dissimilar situation and - what a nice surprise! - grandly effective at times. The climax of the film achieves a level of simultaneous high camp and grand tragedy - actually operatic - and (this is no spoiler) Margaret Johnson's final flourish must have had matinee kids squirming in their seats back in the day. 

This is now going to be my chief reference when I tell people that presentation has everything to do with how we respond to a film. Mind you, the opening reel of the film has some unavoidable scratches, but they are much easier to ignore when the frame brightens to a day scene - and thereafter it is smooth, enjoyable sailing. On Facebook, Kino Lorber's Frank Tarzi has credited disc producer Bret Wood with being wholly responsible for the reconstruction of the film's Techniscope elements and color correction, making it releasable in the first place as a more elaborate restoration would have been outside the company's budget. The color palette is essential to the film's enjoyment, featuring extraordinary uses of lavender and royal blue that I'd never noticed in my old faded copy. There's also an audio commentary by Troy Howarth and a grab bag of trailers for similar recent Kino Lorber product.

Very happy to scratch this important restoration off my list of disappointments after all these years... but don't get me started on THE DEADLY BEES (also 1966), pretty much an abject failure from the same filmmakers! 

(c) 2018 by Tim Lucas. All rights reserved.