Saw The Viking Queen, yet another British Hammer film. Directed by the guy who directed Jason & the Argonauts, this had a little bit more meat than some of the other Hammer films I'd seen lately. The score by Gary Hughes was excellent. A little too much scene chewing by the Druid priest. A little too much exploitation flesh to take the film seriously. Don Murray and Andrew Keir were fine. Carlita was pretty, the actress who played her younger sister even more so, but they didn't carry enough weight, they needed some big Xena-like amazon in there and they have these runway models instead. I loved how abrupt the ending was. Again, no great shakes, but watchable and entertaining enough.

Islands in the Stream, kind of the ultimate Father's Day movie with George C. Scott parenting the whole world by the end of the movie. Very sentimental, though the Conservatism shows through (there's lots of familial love but it's not unconditional, first you have to show you have The Right Stuff). But I loved the characters and most of the dialogue and there are great sequences like the Marlin fishing but also smaller moments which are just as great like Scott's letter to his kids where he talks about the sea. Jerry is so right, he never did a better job of scoring a film in his entire life, so perfect, so on the money. This film was a critical and financial bomb and some of the Sunday crowd I showed it to thought it was slow and predictable, but I was with the film the whole way.

This film really needs to be revived. It's not available on vhs or dvd and I'm not even sure there are prints available of it to rent or show. My copy came from a Cinemax airing over 10 yrs ago and I re-located the tape and watched it. I plan to show it Sunday, I was just checking the tape to see what shape it was in and wound up watching the entire film (which I'll have to watch again Sunday). Having seen it only once all that time ago, I'd forgotten the thing and like I said, wow.

Now the comments on this film over at the IMDB call it boring with the people all sitting around being depressed. I'm sorry but nothing could be further from the truth. It's true that not much happens but the talk and few incidents that are there are more than enough to fill the running time.

There are 5 people, none of them played by name actors, a sixth if you count the kid who is born, but just as big a star is the Frank Lloyd Wright house the film is centered around. It's Oboler's own house in Malibu. I've never been to Malibu. I presume it must be built up now but in 1951 it looked like barren countryside and the house dominates the landscape, it must be worth some big bucks these days.

Like I said, it's mostly talk, some jabs about how miserable life was before civilization ended, some guesswork as to why they're alive and no one else is, more decisions about what to do now, very low key stuff but that's what makes it so compelling, the end of the world told on a very human scale.

I liked the look of the film, nothing in the studio, lots of close-ups, a very minimal tone to the drama then sudden outbursts and then a return back to the lower key. The film used the house and actors to their best advantage. I was impressed.

As for the film, I was just amazed by how loving all the connections between people were, even when there was disaproval, like when Thomas Hudson decides to get rid of Eddie, you can see he's tough and unrelenting but has had a lot of conflict about getting to the decision. I was impressed with the camera positions, Schaffner is right where he needs to be, close or far, depending on the action in every shot. And, while there are some neat things in Patton, this is much more my kind of film and I think it's superior to Patton, at least in terms of content, not vice versa.

Gae

Speaking of films set on water, I watched Finding Nemo. Can't fault the animation which was superb. Thomas Newman score was fine. A simple idea and an ancient plot, a father and son are seperated and try to get back to each other, but what the heck, it worked. The real meat of the film seems to be its themes. The fish are way too human to see this in anything but human terms so the film is really about the effects of being an over-protective parent. The dad is just too scared that things will go bad to cut his kid much slack. He has valid reasons for this, bad things do happen throughout the film, it's not the safest ocean/world out there, but overall, most of the bad stuff gets survived. The dad's attitude creates another problem which is, that having been raised with the over-protection, the son doesn't think he can be very effective or social in the world. Once away from his dad and in the company of other fish, he finds he can accomplish things he would never have known he could at home. Over the course of looking for the son, the dad learns to trust life and not worry as much and have fun a little too. The dad is a kind of animated version of the Steve Martin character from Parenthood. What's interesting is the dad does get knocked around or gets so depressed at times that he stops going for a while. That struck me as a truthful point. But then he gets back up and continues on or else he wouldn't get to where he wants and needs to go. So the film ultimately reflects a very positive go-getter philosophy at heart. Since the dad is voiced by Albert Brooks, you could see all this as a tract against Jewish neurosis and kvetching, but I won't press that point. The film had humor which is always a plus, though I did get tired of all the different quirky fish personalities. This is no Toy Story, but there's enough good stuff in it to recommend it.

At last, a film I can wholeheartedly recommend, though it's hardly a barrel of laughs: Paul Schrader's AFFLICTION, that one with Nick Nolte as the mediocre cop out to redeem himself by trying to solve a murder case, whilst struggling with his demons in the very physical form of an abusive father (Oscar-winning James Coburn).

I think AFFLICTION is a brilliant tragedy. The pain of existence! Incomprehension! The incompatability of differing points of view, all the characters interconnected yet not connecting! It also touches on how we re-invent history ("Facts do not make history" says a very sane and well-adjusted Willem Dafoe, but he he also seems to misunderstand the complexity of the real story). Yes, AFFLICTION is sometimes awesomely good, and it's almost unbearable to watch the suffering of the Nick Nolte character going off the rails and blaming it on his toothache! Excellent acting too - both Nolte and Coburn are superb.

The music reminded me of a cross between Michael Small and Carter Burwell, drained of all happiness, an empty shell of a score. Much of the time it's just a relentlessly buzzing drone, indicative of the nightmare going on inside Nolte's head.

AFFLICTION (USA 1997)

Directed by Paul Schrader
Screenplay by Paul Schrader, from the novel by Russell Banks
Photography by Paul Sarossy
Music by Michael Brook

I'm in two minds about the JG score. On the one hand the action cues seem a shade more inspired than usual for 90s Jerry, and the spotting is even sometimes quite thrilling, but part of me wishes he'd gone against the grain a bit more with the patriotic stuff. Was the composer parodying what was very nearly a parody already? Something tells me not - I get the impression that this was a sincere, straight-faced approach to the material. Or maybe he just thought that the film was so ridiculous anyway, why not go the whole hog?

AIR FORCE ONE (USA 1997)

Directed by Wolfgang Peterson
Screenplay by Andrew Marlowe
Photography by Michael Ballhaus
Music by Jerry Goldsmith

I got into films early. My mom would drop me off at some movie theater to get rid of me so she could shop or have an affair or do whatever she was doing and I saw a LOT of movies. And not just new films but a lot of revival stuff that was going around on big screens in the early 70s.

A guy at the local library did a whole festival of Marx Bros. films in 16mm for 2 years straight and then he quit. The people at the library wanted to continue showing movies so they picked up where he left off but showing all sorts of films. So, I went from the Marx Bros. one year to seeing stuff like Smiles of A Summer Night the next. That year, Jim Limbacher, who wrote a number of reference books on film music, did the scheduling and introductions, but he got involved with other things and couldn't schedule or attend the next year's films. But I got to know JL and kept up with him until his death.

I was already seeing a ton of classics on TV and knew my way around Welles, Hitchcock, and a lot of other film. So, I asked the library people if I could help pick the films for the next year, and they said yes. So, I was 13 when I scheduled my very first film for an audience--and introduced it too! A no-brainer: North By Northwest. But there were already more obscure and foreign films later in the list for that year.

I did the library series until I graduated from high school and at the same time I did a series of different films at the high school as well. To this date I can't believe I showed stuff like Persona to the high school crowd. Not even the teachers were watching this stuff. Needless to say, the high school films didn't do as well as the library films as the kids were more into football and not coming back to school after hours. But, I wasn't really doing it for the high schoolers but for myself to see films I wanted to see projected. Still, a few people came out to every film I showed.

[The library had a budget and their films were free but I had to pay for the high school series films, so I charged admission. There were a number of loan libraries I could get prints from for free or for very little money, JL helped me get some films, once I'd borrowed the library series film and showed it the next day at the high school. When we were hurting for cash, I'd show Night of the Living Dead or something similar and make a ton of cash so I could go back to showing Alexander Nevsky or M. Hulot's Holiday and the like for a few more months until the kitty went dry again.]

I went to college and as soon as I had my sea legs as far as the town and grades and the like were concerned, I joined a college campus film society. There were a few at the time. I joined the oldest and most classical Hollywood. And, I've been showing films through it ever since.

Attendance dropped off in the mid-90s and all the societies died but ours, but we just cut back the number of times we'd show a semester. One by one all the long term members who lived in town bowed out, it was tough to get new students, they'd join for their resumes and never show up after that, and the costs of doing things got so high that we had to get smaller and less equipped facilities.

The society owned a number of 16mm prints so we'd run those over and over rather than rent from companies. Meanwhile to satisfy myself in the "lean years", I was also scheduling films for the Japanese Dept.'s free film series and similar things around the town and campus all this time too.

Now, I am the film society.

I don't project the 16mm anymore. The university still provides us with a small office and that's where the prints are (I'd be willing to sell some if you're interested). I get access to a small classroom. I had a video projector but the university didn't want to loan it out this year so now I'm showing all the stuff on a large TV set descended from the ceiling. Not bad once the lights are out actually, but not quite what the video projection was. Showing the films on vhs for free is probably still illegal so the screenings aren't public--I sent out emails to certain depts on campus and made people join up as members so it's all a private club and a regular crowd of the same faces (between 5-30 depending on the film) shows up every Sunday at 1pm when I show the films.

I did a whole series of Jean-Pierre Melville films starting in January. If you look back over the What Have You Seen in this Month topics you should be able to put together the list. Last week was Islands in the Stream. I watched Five earlier in the week and showed it to an audience today. Next week is Female and Night World, two pre-code films. Coming up are Pierrot Le Fou, Iphigenia, Ogin-sama, and Charles & Ray Eames shorts, among others.

You could say showing films to people is in my blood and I've been doing it for nearly as long as watching films and collecting and listening to film music.

One neat thing about showing films is that you get to see them with an audience which can sometimes change the effect drastically. For example, just a few weeks ago I showed Skyscraper Souls. Now it's one thing to watch SS at home on TV and another to show it to even a small crowd since they laughed at a lot of stuff which makes the film funnier when you watch it or they would respond to subtle things and make you aware of how those things could effect a crowd even if you didn't think as much about the bits yourself. So seeing films with people is instructive. Plus, we talk about the movies afterwards, not everybody, some people just take off, but a few stay and we go over the details, even if just to clarify plot points, which helps.

So that's the story. Why do I do it? I like it. I get a lot out of it. And, I think it's important to have certain films seen by people and not forgotten. So there, You ask: you get.

Certainly, the realistic environement of the story doesn’t lend itself easily to Hitchcock’s stylization, and the ending is somewhat frustrating, since the progression of the narration doesn’t build-up to a climax, and turns out to be rather un-suspenseful by the director’s usual standards.

Nevertheless, he doesn’t hesitate to depart from the rules, be daring, and play upon the spectators’ expectations. I’m referring to the fact that many key dialogued scenes are shot in a way so that you’re not allowed to actually hear the words.
For example, he films from the distance and in one shot the crucial scene where Roscoe Lee Browne bribes a cuban official in an hotel lobby, so we see things only from the point of view of Frederick Stafford, standing across the street.

There a constant feeling of ambiguity and uncertainty repeated throughout many scenes by this simple device of showing us people talking ,but us not hearing them and thus left guessing.
The suspense is more insidious and generated by a constant play between what is shown and what is hidden, by giving us only partial informations.
The idea is best expressed in the scene where a dying tortured cuban woman reveals in a barely audible whisper the name of the leader of her resistance ring. At first you can’t hear it, and you believe the information will remain concealed, and then she repeats it into the ear of her torturer – the suspense here is hanging to a whisper.

The movie boasts Hitchcok’s trademarks, especially the use of close-ups for dramatic effects, a typical silent movie technique, and truly beautufil images : the overhead shot of a dead Karin Dor slipping to the ground, her red dress spreading like a corolla, the striking image of the tortured cuban couple filmed like a pieta, …

The film suffers most in the acting department, particularly Stafford as the french secret agent who scouts for the CIA, and Karin Dor as a cuban freedom fighter, on the other hand the supporting cast does a fine job.

The distant style of the direction didn’t call for an intrusively dramatic score, and Jarre’s discreet one sounds perfect to me, particularly a beautiful waltz variation on his main theme that lends a poignancy to the scenes between Stafford and Dor – something the actors couldn’t have achieved by themselves.

I remember showing them, "France Société Anonyme" (Alain Corneau's first movie), "Citizen Kane", "Big Sky", "The African Queen", "Sleuth", "Zardoz" and "Charley Varrick".

We were still living in the aftermath of 1968, or I should say what young rebels without a cause could fantasize of it, and political pictures, intimate stories with a social message, were much more popular among my friends than some old John Huston's movie - to tell the truth "African Queen" was jeered at.

Going back to the subject of "TO HAVE AND HAVE NOT" remakes, I have to say I prefer Michael Curtiz's "BREAKING POINT" to Hawks' picture.

While watching the movie, though, there was something bugging me about John Richardson in the film and I couldn't put my finger on it. Sure he had a different "hair-do" to the original "She" and he was a couple of years older but there was something more profoundly unreal about him. Finally I realised what it was. Hammer,like they were in the habit of doing with some leading ladies, had dubbed his voice with one of those really deep authoratative voices that you usually hear on movie trailers. On second hearing, it was exactly the same voice that "Count Mitterhouse" had in "Vampire Circus" and was really weird and distracting when dubbed onto John Richardson. If you compare his voice in the original "She" it was a lot softer and velvety. It was really distracting and affected the overall performance in the movie.

Back to the music...Nascimbene's score has two central contrasting themes which are great. There's the up-tempo jazzy theme played on sax for Berova (very 60's) and then there's the majestic orchestral theme that keeps reappearing throughout the film. I love this theme as it conjures up the imagery of both the ancestry of the city of Kuma and the feeling of Killikrates yearning for the return of Ayesha. Nascimbene could really write and capture the emotion in his scores couldn't he? Especially, for me, his Hammer scores like SHE and One Million Years/When Dinosaurs Ruled...etc! Shame about some of the films though! AKITTA, AKITTA!!

Gae

Both stories are going to be constantly intertwined, the spectator invited to jump from past to present and vice versa, in Alain Resnais' fascinating movie - as if each story was echoing the other.
A third story is added up to the mix, a medieval legend born out of the imagination of the Institution pupils.

The quest for happiness and the questions raised by the concept of determinism are enshrined in Bruno Nuyten's sumptuous photography, the magical feeling and the captivating atmosphere of a secluded world generated by Resnais' vision.

The somewhat "art deco" style world of Forbek, its mysterious atmosphere and the presence of his oriental aides are reminiscent of serials.

The score unsettlingly moves without transitions from "modern" writing to light operetta, and on many occasions, the characters sing their lines out of the blue.

In the end, Forbek's plans go astray; his disapproving father dies, so does Ardant's husband during the process, and Ardant herself having not drunk the potion, confronts Forbek, revolting against happiness being reduced to a state of perpetual dispassionate bliss; their argument ending in a violent fight.
The final scene sees a desperate Ardant vainly trying to shake her awaken friends off their daze, pursued by a wounded and yelling Forbek.

On a similar note, anthropologist Geraldine Chaplin tries to set up a love affair between two participants of the seminar, to prove her point about the real nature of love; only to see her maneuvering backfire at her.

And the seminar itself ends in a failure, due to the unability of the participants to reconcile their views on education.

And enthralling work of art, with many touches of irony and great acting - the movie marks the entry of Sabine Azéma into the world of Alain Resnais - which took me on a fascinating and stimulating journey.

Directed by Sidney Lumet
Screenplay by James Hicks
Photography by Andrzej Bartkowiak
Music by Paul Chihara

Main Cast: Jane Fonda, Jeff Bridges, Raul Julia

Boozy, second-rate actress Jane Fonda (hee hee) wakes up again with a hangover, only this time there's a body in the bed with her, and it's got a knife through the heart.

Potentially thematically rich (acting within acting; Hollywood as the identity changer), THE MORNING AFTER soon makes it clear that it doesn't intend to exploit any potent ideas at all. It's watchable as a kind of Hitchcockian dilemma for about twenty minutes, but for me it failed on even the most basic thriller level.

What really surprised me was that Sidney Lumet directed this - surely his blandest, most anonymous effort. Anyway, I felt that it was barely better than an average TV Movie. What's more, the tearfully uplifting ending in the hospital is WORSE than an average TV Movie, and put me in mind of a Venezuelan soap opera (not that I know what they're like).

Jane Fonda throws herself into the part as usual. You've got to admire her dedication, but I found her performance overbearing, sort of Emma Thompsonish. Jeff Bridges is more effective, his restraint maintaining a fine degree of ambiguity (nice guy or killer?), but really, the actors are defeated by the weak material and corny lines.

Directed by Delbert Mann
Screenplay by Terence Rattigan and John Gay, from the play by Terence Rattigan
Photography by Charles Lang
Music by David Raksin

Main Cast: Burt Lancaster, Rita Hayworth, David Niven, Wendy Hiller, Gladys Cooper, Cathleen Nesbitt, Felix Aylmer, Rod Taylor, Audrey Dalton, May Hallatt

In a genteel English seaside boarding house, skeletons begin to rattle in the closets, where the lies, facades and hypocrisy of the residents and staff eventually come to a head.

Good-looking but inevitably talky film of the play. Not very exciting I'm afraid, and only really stimulating once it gets into the home straight and the cards are on the table. Niven is wonderful and touching as the pathetic "Major"; the other characters make less impact.

Synth percussion dominates the score. Moments of interest, nothing special.

BULLETPROOF MONK (USA 2003)

Directed by Paul Hunter
Screenplay by Don't Know
Photography by Can't Remember
Music by Eric Serra, I think

Graham: You asked about my Sunday showings so I gave you what you asked for. Given the response to Billy Elliot, I suggest you stay away from programming as a hobby. I experienced the film group snobbery thing when I tried to join the first of 2 film groups on campus, thankfully there was an alternative.

SirT: Major jealousy for seeing a Resnais film that I can't see in the US. With Ardant and Azema as a plus.

All: Saw two pre-code films today with the Sunday crowd, Female, with Ruth Chatterton, and Night World with Karloff, Raft, Lew Ayres, and Mae Clarke. Female was superior, well-acted, great Deco sets, a bit of a cop-out as the woman, who spends most of the film on the make and running through guys (she's compared to Catherine the Great at one point), turns out only to want a husband and kids in the end. But Chatterton is great in the role, the script has juice, and the whole film speeds by in 60 minutes. What's there not to like?

Night World whizzes by in 60 minutes as well. It's a lot more episodic than Female with a lot of different characters hanging around a night club. The film suffers black, jewish, sexist, and gay stereotypes, which makes it difficult to enjoy and support. Still, it's a part of the culture so I felt it shouldn't remain buried despite these un-PC elements. Not as good as Female, though not without a couple of good laughs and solid scenes. It has a brief Busby Berkeley number and a mostly jazz score by Alfred Newman! It's a strange, sleezy film, and I'm not quite sure what they were aiming at, except to say that urban civilization is a mess and it's best to leave it behind if you can.

Gae

"Sudden Impact" doesn't examine the character's ambiguity and ambivalence and is not as multi-dimensional and thought-provoking as "Dirty Harry", both in style and content; and not as visually exciting.

Still, I think Eastwood may be the last Hollywood classical director. There is an uncommon - by today standards - flow to his direction, he gives ample time for a scene to fully develop, nothing is hurried.

The film takes its full dimension when it concentrates on the Sondra Locke character and the San Paulo segment. The atmopshere goes darker and darker, violence becomes more realistic and destructive - as opposed to the "comic book" treatment of the San Francisco scenes. The beautiful night photography, the introduction of odd details, unusual characters, a downbeat feeling and a particular sense of humour, the somewhat overall eerie atmosphere; all these elements combined themselves to pull the movie into familiar Eastwood territory.

On the other hand, frustration arises from an underuse of a low-key Lalo Schifrin's score.

WHOEVER SLEW AUNTIE ROO (GB 1972)

Directed by Curtis Harrington
Screenplay by Robert Blees and Jimmy Sangster
Photography by Desmond Dickinson
Music by Kenneth V. Jones

Main Cast: Shelley Winters, Mark Lester, Chloe Franks, Ralph Richardson, Lionel Jeffries, Hugh Griffith, Rosalie Crutchley, Pat Heywood

At the tail end of the slew (¡aHEEhoo!) of similarly titled Grand Guignol fare (WHATEVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE?; HUSH HUSH SWEET CHARLOTTE; WHATEVER HAPPENED TO AUNT ALICE?; WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH HELEN? - the latter also pairing director Harrington with Shelley Winters), ROO has quite an excellent first half, balancing the grotesque against the innocent with a good eye for picturesque, almost Dickensian (almost), detail. The ensemble playing is quite fun to watch here, particularly Ralph Richardson as a phoney half-pickled medium.

Unfortunately it all begins to fall apart once the film's point of view switches to that of the two lead children, and it all turns into an exceedingly tame, and all too literal, retelling of the Hansel and Gretel story. The children are just too stilted to carry the necessary dramatic weight, Winters increasingly cuts off too much ham, and there's far too much running around and clumsily falling over towards the end. A pity, because it promised much (and I still think Harrington is an interesting director - I'm intrigued by NIGHT TIDE, his first movie, starring Dennis Hopper as a sailor who falls in love with a mermaid. Music by no less than David Raksin).

Unfortunately, he's also responsible for a piece of cheap rubbish titled "Devil Dog", which I saw in an atrociously French-dubbed version.

I remember vaguely "Auntie Roo" from some summer horror festival held at a local multiplex many years ago, so I can't really comment on it.

As for Harrington himself, I agree he is an interesting director who under the right conditions delivered from time to time a fine little "cult" movie with a style.

For those interested, I have found this interview that covers his whole career.

Harrison Ford - Han Solo
Carrie Fisher - Princess Leia
Billy Dee Williams - Lando Calrissian
Anthony Daniels - See Threepio (C-3PO)
Peter Mayhew - Chewbacca
Ian McDiarmid - Emperor Palpatine
David Prowse - Darth Vader
James Earl Jones - Darth Vader [Voice]
Alec Guinness - Ben "Obi-Wan" Kenobi
Frank Oz - Yoda [Voice]
Sebastian Shaw - Anakin Skywalker
Kenny Baker - R2-D2

Return of the Jedi is usually considered the weakest of the original Trilogy, but on another viewing, compared to the later installments, its a masterpiece and has stood the test of 20 years very well.
Gone are the overly complex political shenanigans of the most recent installments, gone are the annoying side kick comic relief characters too (although the overly cute Ewoks almost fall into this category) and gone are the annoyingly juvenile unfunny quips of dialogue....C3P0 and R2D2 ARE actually funny in this one. Instead, we have an absorbingly simple (on the surface) story of the Rebel Alliances assault on an almost completely built new Death Star.
From the start and the opening scenes of Han's rescue to the above mentioned battle, we are drawn along with the story and characters and have no doubt as to the onscreen activities at any time. Within this basic story though, there are the complexities of the interactions between the characters. Han's ongoing courtship with Leia is developed further but the main relationships center around Luke and his relationships with everyone. Skywalker is the pivot, the catalyst for most of the on-screen activities. He not only has the brother/sister relationship with Leia to deal with and his continuing friendship with Han, but more importantly he has to resolve the issues within himself, his father and the Dark side of the force, represented by the Emperor. He has to deal with his destiny as a Jedi Knight and what are essentially his passage of rites as a man as well as a Jedi.
The final third of the film with three conflicts occurring at once is absolutely masterful film-making. The Special Effects of the Death Star battle set the standards for the next 20 years of Sci/Fi movies and are still unsurpassed.
The emotional apex of the movie though, for me, is Darth Vader's redemption as he sacrifices his own life to save Luke from certain death by the Emperor. I've always been deeply moved by this scene as throughout my life, I have always had lots of unresolved issues with my own father. Issues, that up until his premature death 3 years ago, we never really resolved. This is why this scene is so moving for me. Darth vader's selfless final act is the ultimate show of paternal love. It has to be said that throughout this section of the film and especially at the above moment, John William's score is epic in proportion and contributes immeasurably to the overall emotional impact. My favourite subtle moment here is the moment when the camera minutely tracks in on Darth Vader's mask as he looks on at his son Luke being electrocuted by his master, the Emperor. We cant see any expression on his face, yet we can feel the pain and torment that he is feeling. The moment of release when he finally makes his choice is just one of those magical cinematic moments that dont come along very often.
I dont need to say any more about the rest of the film as we all know what happens dont we. In the Star Wars universe everyone lives happily ever after...until the next installment!! A classic ending to a classic trilogy!

Gae

Directed by Antón Reixa
Screenplay by Xose Morais and Antón Reixa, from the novel by Manuel Rivas
Photography by Andreu Rebés
Music by Antón Seoane

Main Cast: Tristán Ulloa, Luis Tosar, Maria Adánez, Nancho Novo

Rabble-rousing doctor is sent to jail at the start of the Spanish Civil War, where one of the guards is forced to question his own loyalties.

Manuel Rivas is one of Galicia's most poetic young writers, but I didn't detect much poetry in this straightforward film adaptation. Looking like a plush TV series, I felt it sorely lacked imagination and a sense of cinematic magic.

The cast is no great shakes either. Lightbulb-headed Tim Robbins-nosed Tristán Ulloa (previously seen, especially his knob, in LUCÍA Y EL SEXO) hardly exudes charisma, although the implication could be that Franco had even the most unassuming people shot. Boris Karloff-mouthed Sean Connery-eyebrowed Luis Tosar has the pivotal role of the prison guard who must reconsider where his real loyalties lie, but he conveys little with that perpetual bad fart expression.

The music score has a kind of melancholy Morricone tone to it, and is probably quite accomplished, but I've already forgotten it.

For a much better film of Rivas' stories, see LA LENGUA DE LAS MARIPOSAS (BUTTERFLY'S TONGUE) or better still, read his books. If you buy the Harvill Press translation of CARPENTER, I get 0.4% of the profits, 'cos I'm mentioned in the translator's note. So far I've saved up nearly enough to buy da book!

I like the two regular stars, John Vivyan and Ross Martin. The shows had good scriptwriters: Gene L. Coon and Stirling Silliphant among them. Episodes were directed by Jack Arnold and Blake Edwards. All the episodes have great Henry Mancini music. But only 5 of the 10 episodes in the set are solid and that makes you wonder how poor the whole 39 episode season must've been like. It never went past one season which might just be the answer. Why the show falls flat despite such good raw material is hard to pinpoint, but ultimately, the plots are routine and the shtick gets tiresome. Not that there isn't one good program of select episodes worth watching, the pilot and pool playing episodes especially, but overall I can see now why the series was a flop.

Essentially, the movie is about showcasing the talents of the sublime Cyd Charisse both in carefully-staged dance numbers - The "Frankie and Johnny" ballet, "Sleeping Beauty" - and nice comedy moments.

Serviceable direction from Roy Rowland.

Quite enough to make a happy man of me.

Confronted with surreal events, they keep their polished and suave manners, their hypocrisy, only driven by the self-centered urge to satisfy their desires.

Apparently disconnected scenes follow the structure of one character's dream leading into another one's.