Posts Tagged ‘Crime’

Kiss of Death

Saturday, February 6th, 2010

company: 20th Century Fox
year: 1947
runtime: 99′
country: United States
director: Henry Hathaway
cast: Victor Mature, Brian Donlevy,
Coleen Gray, Richard Widmark,
Taylor Holmes, Howard Smith,
Karl Malden, Anthony Ross
writers: Ben Hecht, Charles Lederer
and Eleazar Lipsky
cinematographer: Norbert Brodine
music: David Buttolph
dvd company: 20th Century Fox
release date: December 6, 2005
retail price: $14.98
disc details: Region 1 / NTSC / dual layer
video: 1.33:1 / full screen / progressive
audio: Dolby Digital 1.0 mono (English, Spanish)
Dolby Digital 2.0 stereo (English)
subtitles: English, Spanish
special features: Feature commentary by
Alain Silver and John Ursini, theatrical trailer,
stills gallery, promotional trailers for other Fox Noir
(Call Northside 777, House of Bamboo, Laura,
Panic in the Streets, The Street With No Name)
order this film from Amazon.com


Plot: An ex-con back in prison for a jewelry heist squeals on the mob that hired him after learning that his wife has died in his absence.

What a great film!  Victor Mature last paid visit to this site via Hal Roach Sr. and Jr.’s original cavemen-versus-dinosaurs epic One Million B.C., which cast and typecast Mature as the stoic slab of manhood he would play time and again throughout his career (Samson and Delilah, Demetrius and the Gladiators and so on).  Henry Hathaway’s location-bound neo-realist noir requires far more of Mature as a performer than any of those efforts did or would, and the actor, cast against then and future heavies Brian Donlevy (Beginning or the End, The Quatermass Xperiment) and Richard Widmark (Panic in the Streets, The Bedford Incident), proves time and again that he can pull it off with chops to spare.

Mature plays Nick Bianco, a decent man forced by unfortunate circumstance into a life of crime.  His past is checkered, his father was shot dead by police when he was just a kid and he spent time in prison as a young adult.  His wrap sheet is enough to keep him from finding a steady job in post-war New York, so Bianco turns to pulling contract heists for the local mob.  On Christmas Eve a jewelry store hold-up goes sour, and Nick finds himself on the street in front of the Chrysler Building with a policeman’s bullet in his leg.  Assistant D.A. D’Angelo (Donlevy) offers Nick is offered a plea deal, but he refuses it, getting 15 years in Sing Sing while his accomplices go free.

Nick, good guy that he is, is more than happy to serve the time for the crime he knows he committed, and is led by shady (or shyster, as D’Angelo puts it) lawyer Houser into believing that his wife and two young daughters will be taken care of.  He couldn’t be more wrong.  After an affair with Nick’s old cohort Rizzo his wife takes a nosedive into alcoholism and depression, eventually snuffing out her miseries in a gas stove.  Nick doesn’t find out until well after the fact, and concerns over the welfare of his children, now in an orphanage, and a visit from his former babysitter Nettie (Coleen Gray in her first billed role) convince him that helping the assistant D.A. might be the right thing to do after all.

Ratting on his cohorts in the Christmas Eve jewelry store job is small stuff, and soon Nick is put on the job of squealing on slick mobster Tommy Udo (Widmark in his Academy Award-nominated screen debut), a squirrelly sociopath Nick first met while awaiting trial in the Tombs.  The gig works, and Nick gives D’Angelo all the evidence he thinks he needs to put Udo away on a murder wrap.  Bianco goes on with his life, marrying the much younger Nettie and living with his kids in Queens under an assumed name.  But it isn’t long before D’Angelo is calling again, demanding that Nick shed his secrecy and testify in the Udo case, a guaranteed conviction we already knows is going to swing the other way.

With the sadistic Udo back on the streets, Nick knows that it’s only a matter of time before he gets an unwanted knock on his door.  Realizing that D’Angelo will be of no help, Bianco puts his family on a train to the country and goes out to find Tommy himself to settle things once and for all.

Kiss of Death is best remembered, and perhaps rightly so, for the hilariously sadistic breakout performance of Richard Widmark as the demented hood Tommy Udo.  With sunken eyes, a slicked-back hair piece and a constant giggle, Udo is more of a cartoon caricature than a human being, but even caricatures can be dangerous.  Udo is the man Houser calls when there’s dirty work that needs doing, and when the lawyer is led to believe that Nick’s old friend Rizzo is squealing on the mob it’s Udo he sends in to fix things.  And fix them he does, wrapping Rizzo’s wheelchair-bound mother with electrical wire and sending her on a face-first trip down her tenement’s stairs.  Widmark’s performance is absolutely electrifying here, and he imbues Udo’s human weasel (undoubtedly an inspiration for Judge Doom’s henchmen in Who Framed Roger Rabbit?) with enough raw power to make him a believable threat, even when so obviously physically outmatched by co-star Mature.

Though he can’t help but be upstaged by Widmark in his gravy role, Mature is no push-over.  At 6 foot 2 inches tall he looks a bit like Gulliver after his landing on Lilliput when decked out in his suit tie (perhaps an intentional move to make the family man look all the more out-of-place as a criminal), but his emotions are spot on and in the final confrontation with Widmark he more than holds his own.  It’s interesting that even in noir Mature can’t escape Biblical associations, and his sinner-turned-martyr is followed by a good deal of Christian symbolism.  Prison bars cast shadows that form crosses in at least two scenes (one of them across Mature’s face) while he is seen centered beneath another (this one in a stained glass window) when he visits a Catholic  orphanage with D’Angelo and his cop assistant.  When it comes time for the cops and robber to take their seats in a waiting room, Mature sits directly below a painting of Christ, and a nun working the orphanage, much to the embarrassment of the assistant D.A. and his friend, has to ask which of them is the ex-con father.

While much of the symbolism looks to have originated with director Hathaway (Call Northside 777, True Grit), it extends well into the Hecht and Lederer (and possibly the Lipsky source story, though I’ve not read it to check) as well.  The assistant D.A. who saves Mature from prison is named Louis D’Angelo (Louis ‘of Angels’) and Mature himself plays a character named Bianco (white), re-enforcing his overall goodness.  It’s never terribly overbearing and no one will ever confuse Kiss of Death for a Christ allegory, but it’s interesting to point out all the same.


Veteran director Henry Hathaway plays the early events as realistically as possible for a dramatic film, showing us through the procedure of Mature’s confinement and ushering us through a series of real locations.  The drama will seem dated for anyone happening upon it today, but seeing the Tombs, the D.A.’s office, and Sing Sing and its workshops alive on the big screen helps.  The documentary style on display, with its high-key lighting and straight compositions, stands in for that classic noir aesthetic for the first two acts, not that it hampers the suspense (an early scene of Nick trapped in an elevator is superbly claustrophobic).  The change arrives with a call from D’Angelo informing Nick that Tommy Udo has beaten his murder wrap, and from here on out fans of low-key noir stylings will find themselves in familiar territory.  Hathaway ramps his crime drama into a slick thriller in the third act, and his direction of Mature, crushed by the realization that his work with D’Angelo was for nought and turned paranoid by fear for his family’s well being, is exceptional.

My only real complaint is with the framing and the ending, which smells of studio tampering, not that either of these things keeps the film from succeeding.  The film is bookended with narration from Nettie, who offers a bit of useful backstory in the beginning and adds a happy high note to the otherwise grim finale.

Those worried about spoilers should skip this rest of this paragraph. Nick ends them film prostrate on the ground, shot half a dozen times in the gut by the vengeful Udo, with the three-time-loser immediately apprehended by police for the assault and locked away for good.  As Nick is shuffled into an ambulance, obviously on his way out, Nettie’s narration chimes in to let us know that he, in no uncertain terms, survives.  Here we fade to a stock shot of New York seen at the beginning of the film, then the ending title.  There’s ample evidence here to indicate that Nettie was not originally intended to be the framing device, and the Nick did not actually survive.  It seems far more likely that assistant D.A. D’Angelo was set to be the original framework for the piece, particularly given that the source story was based on the experiences of its author Eleazar Lipsky, a former prosecutor.  It’s food for thought certainly, but as I said, not enough to ruin the picture.


Kiss of Death gets exceptional treatment as part of the Fox Film Noir collection, with the black and white feature and supplements spread over a hefty 7.5 gigs of disc space.  The progressive transfer is excellent for such an old catalog title, with tight 1.33:1 framing and healthy detail.  Contrast looks appropriate if a little boosted and a fine layer of that beloved film grain is present throughout.  Damage is limited but still present, mostly as dust and speckles but occasionally as more obvious chemical imperfections.  It’s never enough to really distract from the viewing and I suspect this is the best the film has looked in a good long time.  Audio is available in three flavors, English in Dolby Digital 1.0 mono and 2.0 stereo, and Spanish in Dolby Digital 1.0 mono.  Recording on all three is crisp, and I didn’t note much difference between the stereo and monophonic tracks.  Subtitles are available in English and Spanish.

Fox offers up a feature commentary track from Alain Silver and John Ursini as the chief supplement for the disc.  While short on background information and high on observations of things that will be pretty obvious (at least I hope so) to most viewers, the pair still offer up some good information – certainly worth a listen and not nearly so pointless as some other tracks I’ve come across (Once Upon A Time In The West, for instance).  The other supplements are pretty standard issue, a theatrical trailer in good shape, a still gallery, and a collection of trailers for other Fox Noir titles (including Panic in the Streets, starring Widmark, and Call Northside 777, directed by Hathaway).

This is a great disc from Fox, currently on sale at 60% savings (a bargain price of just $5.99) at Amazon.com.  Fans and film buffs in general are encouraged to indulge.  As for the film, what more need be said?  It’s a landmark performance from then-newcomer Widmark and one of the best from the underrated Mature, all wrapped up in a fine crime drama by director Hathaway and writers Hecht, Lederer and Lipsky.  The fine score is so good we’ve heard it thrice, with the opening theme recycled for Elia Kazan’s Gentlemen’s Agreement and the less upstanding 3D attraction Gorilla At Large (insert your own canned ape sound effects here – they did).  Excellent stuff, and highly recommended.

Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans

Monday, December 21st, 2009

postera.k.a. The Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call – New Orleans
company: Millennium Films
and Saturn Films
year: 2009
runtime: 122′
country: United States
director: Werner Herzog
cast: Nicolas Cage, Val Kilmer,
Eva Mendes, Feiruza Balk,
Jennifer Coolidge, Brad Dourif,
Michael Shannon, Shawn Hatosy
writer: William M. Finkelstein
cinematographer: Peter Zeitlinger
music: Mark Isham
out in limited release
pre-order the film from Amazon.com:
DVD | Blu-ray


Warning: This review probably contains some spoilers.



Plot:
A police lieutenant is hampered by drug addiction, local gangsters, and an ever-loosening grip on reality while heading up a homicide investigation in post-Katrina New Orleans.

Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans is, in a word, unlikely.  A reboot in name only of the 1992 cult picture Bad Lieutenant produced more than 15 years after the fact with Nicolas Cage in the starring role and Werner Herzog in the director’s chair, its very conception seems suspect, and yet it’s here all the same.  Herzog has taken the script by William M. Finkelstein (writer for N.Y.P.D. Blue and L.A. Law, amongst other television shows) and made something special, a darkly comic tale of corruption, addiction, and redemption and one of the best films of the year.

Herzog’s sense of location is as impeccable as ever, and he makes the depopulated ruins of New Orleans parishes, crumbling in the shadows of the glass towers of the city proper and festering with all manner of crime, as much a character as any other in the film.  Set only a few months after the disaster of Katrina, Herzog’s New Orleans is a place already forgotten by those on the outside – a near-apocalyptic landscape that can’t help but be the birthplace of monsters.

One such monster is newly promoted police lieutenant Terence McDonagh (Cage), a pitiable creature whose chronic pain has led him into addictions to heroin, crack, and cocaine.  McDonagh is an undeniably talented officer, seen at one point single-handedly apprehending a suspect while a SWAT team waits outside, but his tunnel vision starts to get the better of him after his promotion.  As he tells a suspect he’s arresting, “it’s amazing how much you can get done when you’ve got a simple purpose guiding you through life.”  Unfortunately for McDonagh, securing a constant supply of illicit drugs has become that simple purpose.

Things go well for a while.  McDonagh subsists off the steady stream of cocaine and prescription drugs filtering into the evidence room of his department and even finds a kindred spirit and devoted lover in high-class prostitute Frankie (Mendes).  But the life can’t last, and soon he’s betting on football games with money he doesn’t have and getting in trouble with the local mob.  The hallucinations – particularly of ambivalent iguanas on stakeouts – don’t help.  McDonagh hits rock bottom hard, forced to make an uneasy allegiance with the local gangster responsible for the homicide he’s investigating after the case falls apart due to his own negligence.

Herzog keeps the audience aware of the fact that, in spite of all the snarling, screaming, and frequent insanity, McDonagh is ultimately just a decent human being in the midst of making the worst decisions of his life.  The accident that led to his chronic pain was the result of his rescuing a suspect, left behind after the waters began to rise -  no good deed goes unpunished.  Herzog allows McDonagh to commit (and get away with) truly despicable acts on the shaky road to redemption, but always leaves ample room for forgiveness, never letting McDonagh succumb to mortal sin.  The lieutenant  even goes so far as to save the life of murderous gangster Big Fate (Alvin “Xzibit” Joiner) from his depraved partner Stevie (Kilmer).

I never thought I’d find myself praising a performance from Nicolas Cage, but here it’s deserved.  Kudos to Herzog for allowing the actor to flex his professional muscles, which have gone so underserved by recent efforts like Next, Ghost Rider, The Wicker Man, and on and on and on.  Cage lurches through the film like an old-school Universal monster, retaining that all-important note of tragedy while on his drugged-out rampage.  It’s the best performance that’s been seen from the actor in years, and a welcome respite with crap like Ghost Rider 2 (I suppose even Cage has to eat) on the way.

Herzog keeps up his well-earned reputation for experimentation and even finds room to dabble with surrealism in Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans.  McDonagh’s highs are amplified with operatic outbursts of handi-cam wildlife close-ups (notably of an iguana and an alligator) while another  scene has the youthful soul of an aged hit man break dancing after the man himself is killed.  The ambiguous fish-tank ending will leave many viewers scratching their heads, though it seems entirely appropriate in the context of the film.  Herzog always has had an affinity for being strange just for the sake of being strange, and that’s just fine with me.

Teaming up with Herzog once again is cinematographer Peter Zeitlinger (Encounters at the End of the World, Wheel of Time, and Invincible to name a few), and his presence is welcome here.  Frequently working with natural light alone, Zeitlinger ensures Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans’ place as one of the best photographed pictures of the year.  Composer Mark Isham (Invincible, The Black Dahlia) provides the exceptional score, its themes rich in accoustic guitar and augmented with occasional explosions of harmonica.   Here’s hoping a CD release is on the way.

Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans is out in limited release in the States with simultaneous Blu-ray and DVD releases slated for April of next year from distributor First Look Films (this article will be updated with a disc review at that time).  This is, for my money, one of the best films I’ve seen all year – old or new.  Herzog is still a master of the craft, and his latest comes very highly recommended.

Miragemen

Friday, August 28th, 2009

Mandrill Films [2007] 90′
country: Chile
director: Ernesto Diaz Espinoza

cast: Marko Zaror, Maria Elena Swett,
Ariel Mateluna, Mauricio Pesutic

When he and his brother were young, Maco’s (Marko Zaror) parents were killed in a robbery. Maco now works as the bouncer of a slightly classier strip club, but the death of his parents hasn’t left him with much of a life – he’s honing his martial arts skills alone in his nearly empty cellar hole of an apartment and is obsessed with physical fitness, and that’s all he has in life. He certainly has neither friends nor lovers.

Maco is still less hurt than his brother who lives in a mental institution, traumatized and depressed and unable to even leave his room.

One night on his way to work, Maco witnesses a robbery. He kicks the perpetrators’ asses, donning the mask he takes from one of them for no reason he himself could explain, rescues their victims and flees. One of the victims (Maria Elena Swett) is a TV reporter and on the next evening news, Maco finds himself styled as a masked vigilante hero.

His brother sees the news too, and the newly made hero seems to help him to get in contact with reality again. With a motivator this strong, Maco really doesn’t have much of a choice. He buys himself a reasonably silly outfit and tries to become the masked vigilante his brother dreams of.

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At first, his exploits aren’t always dignified, but everything goes reasonably well. Things change for him with rising popularity, though, and soon he has to cope with the dark side of the vigilante business – a media circus that wants to use him and eat him up, criminal enemies who are more dangerous than your typical street thug and the simple fact that Maco himself is not made of steel nor a millionaire playboy.

Mirageman demonstrates admirably that you don’t need Hollywood blockbuster money to create a good superhero movie. Director/writer Ernesto Diaz Espinoza and his star and martial arts and stunt expert Marko Zaror (who before made Kiltro, “the first South-American martial arts movie”, if I can believe what I read) take the whole masked vigilante thing down a to the street level and into something more aking to reality as we know it and ask the question how and why a physically normal man in modern Chile would go about being a hero of a sort. It’s probably as close to realism as you would want a film like it to be.

The film’s low budget aesthetic helps a lot to build this mood. Espinoza uses a lot of handheld camera (not to be misinterpreted as “shaky-cam”), while at least some of the film is obviously shot guerilla style on the streets, giving everything a gritty sheen which reminds every reviewer writing about the film – me included -  of 70s cinema, as does the third generation funky soundtrack. The colours are unfortunately very much of the yellow, blue and gray 2000s, but I’m willing to let this slide as one of the compromises people making movies without much money have to make to be able to produce something at all.

The first half of the film plays at least in parts for laughs, but it never overplays the humor in the way your typical spoof would do it. The film’s humor instead arises mostly from thinking the difficulties of things like costume changes in real life through and looking at them in a clever and dry sort of way without any need to fall back on meanness or slapstick.

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But Espinoza is also able to handle the darker and more tragic parts of his film well, shifting its mood from lightness to grimness in a fitting replica of the history of superhero comics. If one goes into the film only expecting sweetness and light and broken bones, one would probably be shocked by the big final battle.

There are also some very fine fights on display which Espinoza decides to show instead of hiding everything in them away by way of fast cutting and stupid camera effects. It does of course help that Zaror is an actual martial artist who is able to perform authentically enough looking fights without problems. To my surprise, Zaror shows himself also to be quite a decent actor, able to sell the psychological scars of his character well enough.

Of course there are flaws – the film’s pacing is a little jagged and not every element and character is as clearly or logically developed as our hero and his brother. I found the deus ex machina character who helps Maco a few times especially clumsily inserted.

Still, its healthy mixture of believability and playfulness, comedy and tragedy is what makes Mirageman so satisfying. It’s the great little superhero movie that could, even though too few people know about it.

For more bizarre movie goodness, be sure
to visit Denis’ excellent review blog The Horror!?

Icons of Sci-Fi: Toho Collection

Monday, August 24th, 2009

casecompany: Sony
release date: August 18, 2009
retail price: $24.96
details: 1x DVD5 + 2x DVD9 / NTSC / Region 1
subtitles: English
film: The H-Man
a.k.a. Bijo to Ekitainingen
company: Toho Co. ltd.
year: 1958
runtime: 86′ / 78′
director: Ishiro Honda
cast: Kenji Sahara, Yumi Shirakawa,
Akihiko Hirata, Eitaro Ozawa
film: Battle in Outer Space
a.k.a. Uchu Daisenso
company: Toho Co. ltd.
year: 1959
runtime: 93′ / 93′
director: Ishiro Honda
cast: Ryo Ikebe, Kyoko Anzai,
Koreya Senda, Yoshio Tsuchiya
film: Mothra
a.k.a. Mosura
company: Toho Co. ltd.
year: 1960
runtime: 101′ / 90′
director: Ishiro Honda
cast: Frankie Sakai, Hiroshi Koizumi,
Kyoko Kagawa, Jerry Ito
Order this collection from Amazon.com


This has been a long time coming from Sony / Columbia Pictures, who have been sitting on renewed rights to a trio of Toho-produced science fiction and fantasy classics for the past 20 years.  The good news is that this Icons of Sci-Fi collection [hopefully the first of many more to come] is well worth the wait, a few nagging caveats aside.  I think it best that we get those out of the way right now.

The biggest complaint I have is with just how cheaply the set appears to have been put together – this is a far cry from the excellent slim-case packaging of the earlier Icons of Horror: Sam Katzman Collection.  The cover is a aesthetically off-putting blob of photoshop madness that’s far beneath what we know Sony can produce when they put their minds to it.  The packaging itself is a single Amaray case with a single hub used to house all three discs in a small stack, making scratching during removal all but inevitable [this reviewer's first action after opening the set was to put each disc in a proper case of its own and chuck the one provided in the garbage].  Then there is the labelling of the discs themselves, which is just printed text on the silver DVD surface.  I expect this kind of garbage from companies like Mill Creek or Navarre, but from a major studio it’s nigh on unacceptable.

Less a complaint than an admission of personal disappointment is the lack of supplemental material [beyond the two fine audio commentaries, to be discussed below] for the set.  Both Toho and Sony / Columbia Pictures have trailers for these films in storage, but they are nowhere to be found on this set.  The most we get is a bit of cross-marketing via a trio of previews for unrelated releases that can be found on the disc for THE H-MAN.

That said, the set’s retail price is low and the sale price at most online retail outlets even lower – I snagged my copy for less than what a bootlegged disc of any one of these films would have cost from popular fan venues like Video Daikaiju and for a third of what a R2 Toho disc can be imported for.

It’s also important to note that all three films in this set received digital restorations from Sony, which recreated the English dubbed editions through a combination of their own less than stellar  elements with new interpositives provided by Toho Co. ltd.  The image quality remains consistent between the English dubbed and original Japanese versions, as shown in the second and fourth captures from THE H-MAN.  While some dust, speckling and minor damage is still present, the transfers are very satisfying to behold and will be a real treat for stateside fans.

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THE H-MAN is a film I fondly remember waking up early to see on the precious few occasions that it aired through the late 80s and early 90s, but my younger self couldn’t have appreciated the true spectacle of the thing from the cut and cropped version that kicked around on US television.  The film follows the interweaving stories of a woman on the run, detectives out to solve a gang-related missing persons case and a young researcher looking to prove his radical hypothesis that exposure to intense radioactivity can liquify living tissue.  It’s a bizarre mix of crime noir and Quatermass-inspired science fiction goodness and one of the most memorable of the non-daikaiju efforts Toho was producing at the time.

The script by Takeshi Kimura [MATANGO] from a story by Hideo Unagami is played essentially straight and offers up plenty of opportunities to showcase the horrific powers of the titular menace [and, vicariously, nuclear weaponry].  The H-men [or liquid humans, as they are referred to in the original Japanese] are the bi-product of nuclear testing in the Pacific and a unique metaphor for mankind’s more destructive tendencies.  Kimura’s end message is clear – more tests mean more H-men, and more H-men mean no humans.  Ishiro Honda’s direction is deft and assured, and he allows the picture to retain a welcome darkness in spite of its primary focus on entertainment.  Special effects by Eiji Tsuburaya are more limited with this effort than with the other two in the set but are no less accomplished – who can forget those oozing swaths of green slime or the vistas of Tokyo waterways engulfed in flame.

Sony offers up two transfers of THE H-MAN, the original Japanese cut and the shorter English dubbed American theatrical cut, on a dual layer disc.  The general details are the same, with the restored sources being presented in fine 16:9 enhanced 2.35:1 Tohoscope with great color and solid contrast.  Hajime Koizumi’s vivid scope cinematography is well served.  Audio is presented in the original 2.0 stereo for both the English dubbed and Japanese versions, with the latter having the best fidelity overall – Masaru Sato’s lively score, one of the best out of his early work, punches through nicely.  Separate easy to read English subtitles are provided for both versions.  For an older Toho title THE H-MAN looks very good here, and I’ve no complaints with the presentation.

This film gets the short end of the stick in the supplements department and is the only one of the set not to feature a commentary track – a pity, really.  The only supplements are a trio of trailers for unrelated Sony product.

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BATTLE IN OUTER SPACE, Toho’s big sci-fi special effects blockbuster for the New Years season of 1959 / 1960 plays like a thematic sequel to THE MYSTERIANS from two years earlier [there are no direct plot connections to the earlier film, though a few characters share names with characters from that film], but with the bulk of the action moved beyond Earth’s atmosphere.  The story concerns a moon-based assault on our planet by the war-mongering people of Natal and the efforts of the United Nations to stop the invaders.  The fantasy quotient of BATTLE is spot on.  Audiences are treated to a lunar offensive by way of ray-gun armed super vehicles that look like a cross between the Oscar Meyer Weinermobile and the landmasters from DAMNATION ALLEY, an outer space dogfight between alien saucers and Earthly fighter craft and the uprooting of downtown Tokyo by the Natalian mothership.

Unfortunately the drama of BATTLE is strictly bottom-of-the-barrel stuff.  Romantic interest must have been deemed necessary late in the game and seems to have been tacked on as an afterthought, with the relationship between stars Ryo Ikebe and Kyoko Anzai relegated to two brief scenes in which the former is a complete jackass.  The rest of the screenplay is devoted exclusively to military / scientific babble and the stereotypical threat-speeches from the Natalian invaders.  The only really promising element is the character of Iwomura played by the eccentric and ever-reliable Yoshio Tsuchiya, and his arch from scientist to Natalian slave to self-sacrificing hero is still shortchanged by the writing.

Inept as it is in the drama department, Eiji Tsuburaya’s effects direction is top-of-the line for the genre.  The lengthy moon offensive and it’s bevy of blue screen work is particularly impressive, as is the first-of-its-kind outer space dogfight.  Tsuburaya’s work is enough to make BATTLE a must-see for genre aficianados.  Akira Ifukube’s rousing score, one of his best for the genre, is another high point of the film – the dark and melodious themes that accompany Earth’s astronauts on their first visit to the moon are not to be missed.

BATTLE IN OUTER SPACE was not edited in regards to running time by Columbia Pictures, though new titles were made and much of the Ifukube soundtrack removed in favor of bland library cues.  Sony presents the film on a single layer DVD5 with seemless branching between the original Japanese and English dubbed variants.  The transfer is 16:9 enhanced in the original Tohoscope ratio and looks splendid, with vibrant colors and contrast – I’ve seen this film in all manner of disrepair over the years and the restoration here is a revelation.  While the vast majority of the transfer is encoded for progressive playback, the branched opening and closing segments are interlaced and a drop in quality is noticeable [particularly at the end of each version].  Audio is presented in Japanese and English, both in their original 2.0 stereo formats.  Unfortunately someone seriously goofed on the subtitle front, and the only option available are the subtitles made for the English dubbed varient.  That version’s talkiness leads to many subtitled lines that simply don’t exist in the original Japanese and the dub-titles are, predictably, not always accurate to the Japanese dialogue that is present.

Supplements are limited to a fine commentary track by authors Steve Ryfle and Ed Godziszewski, two of the best in the business as far as genre commentaries are concerned.  The two keep the discussion lively, entertaining and, most important of all, informative.  Thanks to the branched structure, the commentary track is accessible from both the English and Japanese cuts of the film.

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Rounding out the collection is one of the most highly regarded of Toho’s giant monster efforts, the big budget fantasy MOTHRA.  The story has a bit of a KING KONG vibe, with two young women substituted for the giant ape as the exploited centerpiece.  Novel to this film is the concept of a giant monster as an impartial guardian, concerned only with the well being of the two Infant Island princesses.  The peaceful culture of Infant Island exists in stark contrast to the rest of the world in MOTHRA, even with the Cold War literally knocking at its door through its use as a nuclear weapons test site by the country of Rolisica [a fictitious stand in for Cold War superpowers Russia and the United States].

MOTHRA was a huge undertaking for Toho, warranting a higher budget than was typically alotted their already largely budgeted genre pictures, and it shows.  Special effects director Eiji Tsuburaya is at the absolute height of his talents here, creating vast cityscapes for the larval and adult Mothras to destroy.  Some of the models are quite large and, as such, feature an amount of detail rarely seen in miniature work – seeing them smashed to bits by the unstoppable monster-god is pure old-school spfx bliss.  A sequence in which the larval Mothra destroys a dam is simply astounding and was recreated by Teruyoshi Nakano, albeit on a smaller scale, for the much maligned GODZILLA VS. MEGALON.

The drama in this case is, in contrast to BATTLE IN OUTER SPACE, quite good and balances out the picture nicely.  Frankie Sakai and Kyoko Kagawa are wonderful as a trouble-causing reporter / photographer team, two characters who would be recycled [with different actors] in 1964’s MOTHRA VS. GODZILLA.  Hiroshi Koizumi, one of my favorite genre actors, plays the eccentric linguist Chujo, who is forever at odds with Jerry Ito’s greedy opportunist Rolisican Clark Nelson.  Nelson is one of the most ridiculous and audacious villains in Toho history, and is so identifiably bad that it’s hard not to boo and hiss whenever he’s on screen.  A prime example of his character comes just before he is killed at the conclusion of the film, with Nelson stealing the cane from a hobbling elderly man and hurling it into the street.  Then there is the twin sister musical act The Peanuts [Emi and Yumi Ito], whose reasonable performances and exceptional voices hold MOTHRA together.

Sony presents MOTHRA on a dual layer disc with two unique transfers – one for the English and another for the original Japanese variants of the film.  Both are presented in 16:9 enhanced 2.35:1 Tohoscope and are progressive, with exceptional color and contrast.  The level of detail is a notch higher here, and Hajime Koizumi’s work as cinematographer is well served once again.  This is easily the best looking film of the set.  Audio is presented in 2.0 stereo for both films, with the original Japanese element being the most aurally satisfying.  Seperate subtitles in an easily readable white font are provided for both variants.

Another choice commentary track by Steve Ryfle and Ed Godziszewski is on board as the only supplement, but it’s a welcome one.  The pair are as entertaining and informative here as ever, and provide extensive background and production information for the title.  The commentary track is available for the shorter English dubbed variant of MOTHRA only.

While more supplements and [especially] better packaging could have improved my reception of this set, I found myself growing more and more satisfied with it as I watched.  The films all look fantastic [brief interlacing on BATTLE IN OUTER SPACE aside] and the addition of the English dubbed US theatrical variants is just what my inner child ordered.  This one is an easy recommendation and a must-buy as far as I’m concerned.  Now if whoever is sitting on the U.S. rights to the Brenco Pictures distributed Toho classics GORATH, THE LAST WAR and THE HUMAN VAPOR will just get with the program . . .

High Crime

Friday, August 7th, 2009

a.k.a. LA POLIZIA INCRIMINA LA LEGGE ASSOLVE
Capitolina Produzioni Cinematografiche [1973] 100′
country: Italy
director: Enzo G. Castellari
cast: Franco Nero, James Whitmore,
Delia Boccardo, Fernando Rey

Genuan Commissioner Belli (Franco Nero) is one of those highly irascible cops movie Italy is full of, always screaming and raging about the terrors of corruption etc and etc.

Belli’s unwillingness to play politics and his nearly comical impatience lead to frequent clashes between him and the chief of detectives, Commissioner Scavoni (James Whitmore), but the older cop obviously respects Belli’s passion for justice a lot and treats the younger man with the patience one has for talented if absolutely mad little children.

Scavoni himself has a secret file full of information that he wishes to use to bring the whole network of corruption and crime that dominates his city to fall, yet he does not dare to use what he has too early out of fear that all his efforts might go to waste.

Life in Genua isn’t going to get easier for the two. A new organisation tries to bust in on the turf of the city’s aging crime lord Caffiero (Fernando Ray), and the new guys are even more brutal and reckless than the Mafia the police knows. A bunch of car chases and shoot-outs later, all tracks lead Belli to the highly respected industrialist clan of the Grivas, but witnesses have the sad habit of dying.

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Belli is finally able to shout Scavoni into using the material he has on the Grivas, but the old cop is murdered and his files lost before he has even begun to make a ruckus. Scavoni’s death just intensifies Belli’s crusade, a crusade that will in the end be very costly for everyone involved, especially Belli’s loved ones.

Enzo G. Castellari’s High Crime is one of the core films of the Italian police film genre of the 70s and to me, it is one of the best parts of it.

That the film is highly kinetic and racing from one brilliantly filmed action sequence to the next is par for the course in the genre, yet Castellari’s action – always given a rhythm of its own by a hypnotic score by the de Angelis brothers -  feels somehow more driven and desperate than the action scenes in the films of his contemporaries. There’s a special feeling of recklessness and wildness at High Crime’s heart you won’t too often find in European films, even other Italian cop movies, and that connects Castellari’s work in my mind with the sheer madness of Hong Kong cinema of the 80s and early 90s.

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But even here, the action is not all there is to the film. I remember more than one film of the genre I had difficulties to stomach on account of their unpleasant politics which usually just start with the supposedly heroic cops getting mightily pissed off by the fact that they have to keep to the laws they are sworn to protect. The longing for a police state is often quite strong in these films and makes me in cases like the films of Umberto Lenzi nearly physically uncomfortable. Now, I wouldn’t call High Crime’s politics pleasant, but they are a lot more complex than in some of the lesser films of the genre. It is very helpful that Belli may be overtly irascible and not exactly a stickler for human rights, but at least we never see him torture gay people or fake evidence. Basically, Belli comes across as a decent man in a society teetering on the edge of chaos, much more interested in getting the big fish than in kicking in the teeth of some junkie. Actually, one of the things the film seems to say the loudest is “look at the big picture to end corruption”.

It does of course help quite a bit that Franco Nero plays Belli as highly sympathetic in his desperation for change, an impression that is strengthened further by the scenes he has with his girlfriend (Delia Boccardo) and his daughter. That a pleasant family life won’t be in the card for Belli is obvious from the beginning, but the way Castellari handles the things that were bound to happen to the two is at once so ruthless and so right (in the context of the film, mind you) that I couldn’t help but be impressed.

One of my pet theories about directors of action films is that the great ones can’t be judged by the quality of their action sequences alone, but by the quality of the melodrama in their films and the way they use this melodrama to heighten the tension and meaning of their action. That’s the reason why the American action cinema of the 80s does so little for me – they just didn’t know what to do with their heroes’ emotions, if they admitted to the existence of them at all.

Castellari knew.

For more bizarre movie goodness, be sure
to visit Denis’ excellent review blog The Horror!?

Qurbani

Friday, July 10th, 2009

F.K. International [1980] 157′
country: India
director: Feroz Khan
cast: Feroz Khan, Vinod Khanna
cast: Zeenat Aman, Amrish Puri

Rajesh (Feroz Khan) leads the charmed life of a manly man Robin-Hood-like thief, a life that is more than a little sweetened by the existence of his beautiful nightclub singer girlfriend Sheela (Zeenat Aman, alas not allowed to do more than that description promises). Between random motorcycle riding and disapproving of Sheela’s job (but hey, she disapproves of his job too, so they’re on the same level here), there’s not much that troubles him . . .

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