Savage Seven, The (1968)

Savage Seven, The (1968)

“Those bastards wanted to play cowboys and Indians; let’s give ’em a game.”

Synopsis:
When a gang of motorcyclists led by Kisum (Adam Roarke) roars into an Indian village, both mayhem and tentative alliances — particularly with Johnnie (Robert Walker, Jr.) and his sister (Joanna Frank) — ensue.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Gangs
  • Motorcyclists
  • Native Americans

Review:
Richard Rush — best known for The Stunt Man (1980), though he also helmed GFTFF titles Hells Angels on Wheels (1967), Psych-Out (1968), and Getting Straight (1970) — directed this exploitation film which holds the distinction of being selected for the First Quentin Tarantino Film Festival (held in Austin, Texas in 1996). There is very little to it other than numerous confrontations between obnoxious bikers and Native Americans who live in a small town run by a corrupt businessman (Mel Berger).

As described in the New York Times’ review, “The movie is one continuous uproar of unmuffled motors and head-cracking and emphasized cruelty from one and to another.”

Robert Walker, Jr. — perhaps best known by GFTFF fans for his supporting performance as an explosives expert in The War Wagon (1967) — plays a central Native American role:

… and Joanna Frank has quite a bit of screentime as his sister, pursued by Adam Roarke’s Kisum.

Note: Viewers may enjoy spotting Penny Marshall in her screen debut, eight years before she achieved lasting television fame in “Laverne and Shirley.”

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • László Kovács’s cinematography

Must See?
Nope. Listed as a Cult Movie in the back of Peary’s book.

Links:

No Way to Treat a Lady (1968)

No Way to Treat a Lady (1968)

“You see how I’ve fooled ’em? I’m a master of disguise!”

Synopsis:
A serial killer (Rod Steiger) uses a variety of disguises to kill middle-aged women across New York while playing cat-and-mouse with a detective (George Segal) whose overbearing mother (Eileen Heckart) and new girlfriend (Lee Remick) keep him otherwise occupied.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Cat and Mouse
  • Detectives and Private Eyes
  • George Segal Films
  • Lee Remick Films
  • Rod Steiger Films
  • Serial Killers

Review:
Shortly after his Oscar-winning turn in In the Heat of the Night (1967), Rod Steiger starred in this adaptation of William Goldman’s novel, itself loosely based on an article about the Boston Strangler. The storyline is decidedly formulaic in its — well, formula of repeatedly showing Steiger dressed up in an outlandish costume and sporting a convincing accent while stealthily killing a gullible woman, then calling Segal to brag about his deed. He impersonates an Irish priest:

… a German plumber:

… an effeminate wig seller:

… a police detective (nice nod to Chief Gillespie):

… a cross-dressing woman in a bar:

… and a waiter.

Meanwhile, interspersed between these murders and follow-up phone calls, we see Segal henpecked by his Jewish mother:

… and romancing Remick, who very conveniently falls for him and thus serves as gorgeous eye candy throughout. (Her character is too good to be true.)

There are plenty of cringe-worthy moments throughout the screenplay — including all scenes between Segal and Heckart (though her fans will likely be happy); the appearance of a dwarf (Michael Dunn) who insists he is the killer and takes offense when he’s not believed:

… and Steiger’s caricatures of a gay man and a trans woman (though I suppose those could be explained as his own character’s poor acting choices). While nothing about this storyline is particularly surprising, viewers who enjoy a straightforward whodunit filled with plenty of complex disguises will likely appreciate it. Watch for Barbara Baxley and Doris Roberts as two sisters who manage to escape Steiger’s clutches.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Fine location shooting throughout New York
  • Jack Priestly’s cinematography

Must See?
No. Listed as a Personal Recommendation in the back of Peary’s book.

Links:

Death by Hanging (1968)

Death by Hanging (1968)

“For human beings, death comes when one consciously accepts it.”

Synopsis:
When a Korean-born Japanese man (Yung-do Yun) who has been sentenced to death by hanging “refuses” to die, his captors debate the ethics of killing him again, and try to get him to remember his identity and his crimes.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Black Comedy
  • Death and Dying
  • Japanese Films
  • Nagisa Oshima Films
  • Race Relations and Racism

Review:
The second film by Japanese director Nagisa Oshima listed in Peary’s GFTFF — after the disappointingly talky Night and Fog in Japan (1960) — is this much more intriguing dark comedy about the ethics of life, death, crime, race, and capital punishment in post-WWII Japan. The film starts off in a documentary-like style, as we’re walked through the process of how “death by hanging” is carried out in Japan: no details are spared, from a description of the section of the prison where the execution chamber is located, to what’s inside the chamber, to the final rites and rituals offered up to the man who is about to die (including “his last cup of tea and last cigarette”).

Everything seems to be going according to routine — but the first surreal plot twist in the film comes when the men in charge of overseeing this process discover that the criminal’s heart won’t stop beating; in other words, the man’s body seems “unwilling” to actually die. What to do next? Nobody seems to agree, or to want to take ultimate responsibility. The perverse dilemma is summed up in the following exchange:

“Sir, allow us to execute him again.”
“Execute him again? He wasn’t executed!”

Indeed. What does it even mean to “be executed”? We learn that according to Japanese rules, the condemned man’s “noose can’t be undone until five minutes after death” — but since he “hasn’t been executed yet,” the noose can’t come off. He can’t receive another “prayer and hymn” since “he’s already received his last communion.”

Given that “his soul is with God” but “his body’s alive,” is he “mentally incapacitated” — in which case “the execution must be halted”? (After all, the team would “get in trouble for executing someone who’s unconscious” given that “the point isn’t just to take his life; the prisoner’s awareness of his own guilt is what gives execution its moral and ethical meaning.”) The men try to resuscitate the prisoner, leading to such darkly humorous and perverse justifications as, “Warden they’re trying to revive him so they can kill him again!” and “Let’s revive him first; the execution is a separate issue.”

Eventually the story takes yet another weird turn, as the prisoner (Yun) is revived but claims not to remember who he is or what he’s done. When Yun is told about what he — “R” — has done, he claims “I don’t feel I’m R at all.” Very convenient — to claim one no longer “relates” to the acts one has carried out, given that the lethal consequences of said acts remain very much real.

However, R can’t (or shouldn’t) be executed if he’s not consciously aware of his crimes — therefore the hanging team begin re-enacting his life and crimes, during which time we learn that he had a rough childhood as a Japanese of Korean descent growing up in a large, impoverished family. (Korea was a colony of Japan from 1910 to 1945.) It seems that the executioners may even be gaining some perverse enjoyment out of recreating Yun’s toxic crimes of passion and vengeance:

… and the fact that everyone heads out of the prison itself during the reenactments speaks to how surreal things have become.

Discussions of Yun’s racial identity take center place in the final third of the film, especially as he engages in discussions with someone referred to as his sister.

By the film’s finale, we have a bit more sympathy for how and why Yun ended up as a criminal — which perhaps was Oshima’s primary goal; and meanwhile, we’ve certainly been made to reflect more deeply on what it means to consciously take someone’s life in exchange for their crimes against others.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Yasuhiro Yoshioka’s cinematography

Must See?
Yes. Listed as a Personal Recommendation in the back of Peary’s book.

Categories

  • Foreign Gem

Links:

Hell in the Pacific (1968)

Hell in the Pacific (1968)

“Oh – for a second I thought you were a Jap.”

Synopsis:
During World War II, an American pilot (Lee Marvin) and a Japanese captain (Toshiro Mifune) are marooned together on a deserted island and must learn how to get along with one another to survive.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Deserted Island
  • John Boorman Films
  • Lee Marvin Films
  • Survival
  • Toshiro Mifune Films
  • World War II

Review:
Shot entirely on location in the Rock Islands of Palau, this unusual World War II-era film has just two actors — neither of whom speak each other’s language — and is primarily focused on how the men negotiate existence with one another. Will they continue to fight and possibly kill each other, as they have been trained to do?

At first, this is absolutely on their minds; but gradually they come to realize that collaboration for survival makes so much more sense. With Marvin and Mifune in the lead roles, we are always intrigued to see what will happen next — and Conrad Hall’s cinematography brings everything to vivid life. While it’s not must-see viewing, it’s well worth a look.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Lee Marvin and Toshiro Mifune as the stranded men
  • Conrad Hall’s cinematography

Must See?
No, but it’s definitely recommended for one-time viewing.

Links:

Immortal Story, The (1968)

Immortal Story, The (1968)

“I don’t like prophecies.”

Synopsis:
In 1860s Macao, an aging merchant (Orson Welles) tasks his assistant (Roger Coggio) with finding a sailor (Norman Eshley) and a woman (Jeanne Moreau) who can act out an oft-told story of a one-night encounter.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Historical Drama
  • Jeanne Moreau Films
  • Orson Welles Films

Review:
Orson Welles’s feature-length — well, hour-long TV-length — follow-up to Chimes at Midnight was this adaptation of a short story by Isak Dinesen (one of Welles’s favorite authors), whose oeuvre Welles had hoped to tap into even more. It tells a simple yet very odd tale of a wealthy man:

… determined to make a sexual fantasy story come true (There really isn’t much more to it than this.) Welles’s assistant (Coggio) finds Moreau — who has a grievance against Welles given he is living in the house previously owned by her father, who committed suicide — and then Eshley to play the central roles in the apocryphal legend of a couple who experience an “earthquake” during their lovemaking.

To say more would spoil this almost-barely-there story — but suffice it to say, not too much else happens.

Note: This film was released in the United States on a double-bill with Luis Buñuel’s Simon of the Desert (1965).

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Willy Kurant’s cinematography

Must See?
No; this one is only must see for Welles completists.

Links:

Beyond the Law (1968)

Beyond the Law (1968)

“I did nothing — absolutely nothing.”

Synopsis:
An Irish-American lieutenant (Norman Mailer) presides over a fictional Manhattan precinct while two of his detectives — Rocco (Buzz Farber) and Mickey (Mickey Knox) — mercilessly grill various suspects.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Marsha Mason Films
  • Police
  • Rip Torn Films

Review:
Norman Mailer’s second of four directorial outings (his third, Maidstone [1970], is also listed in GFTFF) was this documentary-esque independent film, inspired by Andy Warhol, which according to Wikipedia “was shot over four nights with three film crews and sound professionals” and made with “next-to-no script;” instead, the actors were told to “wing it” and “explore some ideas that echo [Mailer’s] literary concerns, like the psychopathic hipster, the home-grown totalitarian, complex give-and-take of lovers, and the existential relationship between the cop and the criminal.”

Is it successful, or at least interesting? Marginally so — but this one will really only appeal either to fans of ’60s independent films and/or Mailer. Watch for Rip Torn as “Popcorn”:

… Marsha Mason as a young woman out to dinner with the detectives:

… George Plimpton as the town’s visiting mayor:

… and, of course, Mailer himself.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • D.A. Pennebaker, Nicholas Proferes’ and Jan Welt’s cinematography

Must See?
No, though it’s worth a look if you’re curious.

Links:

Charlie Bubbles (1968)

Charlie Bubbles (1968)

“What do you do all day?”

Synopsis:
A hugely successful writer (Albert Finney) living and working in London travels with his secretary (Liza Minnelli) to his hometown of Manchester, where he visits his ex-wife (Billie Whitelaw) and child (Timothy Garland).

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Albert Finney Films
  • Liza Minnelli Films
  • Writers

Review:
Albert Finney’s sole directorial outing was this highly personal film — scripted by Shelagh Delaney — about the downsides of fame. As the movie opens, we see Charlie (Finney) talking about taxes and money in a high-brow restaurant, where he encounters an old friend (Colin Blakely) who brings out the child in him.

Unfortunately, this is the most carefree we see Charlie throughout the entire film; after getting drunk with Blakely at a working men’s pub, he returns home to his glacially austere residence, with surveillance cameras set up in every room:

… and a young secretary (Minnelli) eager to do anything and everything for and with him.

However, Charlie is clearly both exhausted and unhappy, to the point where even a beautiful young assistant can’t meet his needs. A road trip to visit with his son results in an awkward outing to a soccer game:

… and his ex-wife seems equally miserable, raising chickens and making awful organic food from scratch while smoking non-stop.

The paparazzi won’t leave Charlie alone, either. What’s a poor rich man to do? Well, the film’s final scene provides one convenient option, though it can’t last for long.

It’s easy to see why Finney gravitated towards this material — surely it mirrored many of his own sentiments and experiences — though it doesn’t leave the viewer with a particularly satisfying feeling, other than to be grateful for a lack of fame and fortune in our own lives.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Peter Suschitzky’s cinematography

Must See?
No, though it’s worth a one-time look. Listed as a Cult Movie in the back of Peary’s book.

Links:

Warkill (1968)

Warkill (1968)

“It’s just another war, Mr. Sutton — and I’m just another guy doing a job.”

Synopsis:
A war correspondent (Tom Drake) sent to investigate a renowned guerrilla colonel (George Montgomery) in the Philippines is dismayed to learn that Montgomery is brutally no-holds-barred in his approach to finding and killing Japanese soldiers.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Journalists
  • Jungles
  • Soldiers
  • World War II

Review:
Ferde Grofé Jr. (son of composer Ferde Grofé) wrote and helmed this low-budget action flick filmed in the jungles of the Philippines, set during World War II but released during the height of the Vietnam War. I wasn’t able to learn too much more about the film — it has only four User Reviews on IMDb, and no External Reviews — but it effectively tells the tale of a writer whose rosy image of the “war hero” he’s written about in books for children:

… becomes instantly deflated upon meeting and spending time with him. Drake is disgusted to learn that Montgomery has no mercy at all for the enemy, resorting to whatever means necessary to find and kill them, and never taking prisoners of war — except in one particularly brutal sequence when he uses a wounded soldier as bait to lure more men out. When Montgomery and his crew (nicely populated by a mix of races):

… arrive at a hospital housing wounded Japanese POWs, he has no intention of doing anything to protect them, even upon learning that they will be mercilessly slaughtered by their own commanders if found. The main arc of the storyline shows Drake and Montgomery in a sort of cat-and-mouse tension with one another, as Drake becomes increasingly disillusioned while we (and he) simultaneously learn more about why Montgomery makes the choices he does. This isn’t easy viewing, but it nicely challenges our expectations about war heroes — which I believe was precisely Grofé Jr.’s point.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Many tension-filled moments

Must See?
No, but it’s strongly recommended for one-time viewing if you can find it. Listed as a Sleeper in the back of Peary’s book, which makes sense.

Links:

War and Peace (1965-67)

War and Peace (1965-67)

“Why cannot men do without war? How is it we women are content with things as they are?”

Synopsis:
During Napoleon’s invasion of Russia, wealthy Pierre Bezukhov (Sergei Bondarchuk) marries a beautiful woman (Irina Skobtseva), but pines after young Natasha (Lyudmila Saveleva), who is pursued by both widowed Prince Andrei (Vyacheslav Tikhonov) and handsome Anatole (Vasiliy Lanovoy).

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Historical Drama
  • Love Triangle
  • Royalty and Nobility
  • Russian Films

Review:
Relatively unknown writer/actor/director Sergey Bondarchuk was selected by the Soviet government to helm this massive, Best Foreign Oscar-winning adaptation of the nation’s most beloved novel, by Leo Tolstoy. Almost no expense or detail was spared in bringing the Napoleonic era — specifically the years from 1805-1812 — to life: 103 different shooting locations were used; over 100 studio sets were built (including a replica of Moscow simply to burn down); “original art, jewelry, swords, guns, and period furniture from several museums, as well as replicas of period military uniforms, decorations, ball gowns and costume jewelry pieces” were used:

… and there were no less than 1,500 horses and 12,000 extras (including many from the military, working at no additional expense) utilized in the four battle sequences: the Battle of Schöngrabern, the Battle of Austerlitz, the Battle of Borodino, and the Battle of Krasnoi.

Split into four separate films, the adaptation faithfully tells the epic tale of Pierre Bezukhov, Natasha Rostova, and Prince Andrei Bolkonsky — as well as various other supporting characters — through the following segments (totaling 6 hours and 33 minutes).

In “Part I: Andrei Bolkonsky,” we’re introduced to primary characters, with highlights including a wild night of debauchery:


… the death of Pierre’s father:

… and a snowy duel.

In “Part II: Natasha Rostova,” we see 16-year-old Natasha attending her first ball:

… falling in love with Andrei:

… going on a wolf hunt:

… dancing in a rural cottage:

… and being seduced by wily (married) Anatole (Vasiliy Lanovoy).

“Part III: The Year 1812” consists of nearly non-stop battle sequences (and their aftermath), taking place as Napoleon’s army invades Russia.


“Part IV: Pierre Bezukhov” wraps things up with plenty more violence and destruction, including the burning of Moscow:

… Pierre’s attempt to go undercover and assassinate Napoleon:

… and a deathbed reconciliation for Natasha and Andrei.

Little of this is told or filmed in a conventional manner; as noted in Keith Watson’s review for Slant:

“In contrast to Hollywood epics of the era like Joseph L. Mankiewicz’s Cleopatra and William Wyler’s Ben-Hur, which are marked by long, static processions of extras marching around expensive sets, Bondarchuk never simply shoots for coverage. His camera instead darts and dashes through grandiloquent interiors and hellish battlefields, roving through burning buildings and flying through the air like a cannonball. Where another director might have resorted to a simple wide shot or close-up, Bondarchuk gives us a sweeping helicopter aerial, a complicated superimposition, an expressive split screen, or a camera that seems to float above a ballroom…”

Vyacheslav Ovchinnikov’s unusual score adds to the at-times surreal nature of what’s taking place, which feels appropriate given the grand scope of what Tolstoy and Bondarchuk are aiming for. While it’s obviously a huge investment of time, this historical drama represents the best of mid-century Soviet cinema, and should be seen once by all film fanatics.

Note: This film (really a mini-series) has been the most challenging to pin a date on out of all titles in Peary’s book. The first two films “had their world premiere on 19 July 1965, in the Kremlin Palace of Congresses,” and were screened more broadly across the USSR in 1966, with the next two episodes following in 1967 (though with distribution across 117 countries, screening dates and total lengths varied). It won an Oscar as Best Foreign Film in 1969 (meaning it was entered in 1968), and it was screened on ABC television in 1972. Suffice it to say that people across the globe saw this film in a variety of formats, lengths, and languages, all simply adding to its truly epic scope.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Truly incredible sets, costumes, and overall production design
  • Fine cinematography
  • Vyacheslav Ovchinnikov’s very unique score

Must See?
Yes, as a Soviet-era masterpiece.

Categories

  • Foreign Gem

Links:

Herostratus (1967)

Herostratus (1967)

“If I’m born, I’ll have a few laughs — and then I’ll kick out.”

Synopsis:
A nihiliastic young man (Michael Gothard) pushes his way past the secretary (Gabriella Licudi) of a big-wig advertiser (Peter Stephens) to convince Farson (Stephens) that he wants to commit suicide amidst media fanfare — but will he change his mind before the pivotal moment arrives?

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Experimental Films
  • Media Spectacle
  • Suicide

Review:
Australian-born writer-director Don Levy was inspired by the legend of Herostratus when making this experimental art film early in his career. According to Wikipedia:

Herostratus (Ancient Greek: Ἡρόστρατος) was a 4th-century BC Greek, accused of seeking notoriety as an arsonist by destroying the second Temple of Artemis in Ephesus (on the outskirts of present-day Selçuk), one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. The act prompted his execution and the creation of a damnatio memoriae law forbidding anyone to mention his name, orally or in writing. The law was ultimately ineffective, as evidenced by surviving accounts of his crime. Thus, Herostratus has become an eponym for someone who commits a criminal act in order to become famous.

Why this was intriguing to him is unclear. The film itself is widely viewed as a critique of manipulative advertising, though that’s not quite accurate — rather, we see a tale of a thoroughly unlikable, self-obsessed protagonist we can barely stand to be around during the first hour of the film:

… who gradually becomes tolerably sympathetic as he makes romantic connections with a beautiful secretary (Licudi):

… and comes to realize that Farson is an even greater cynic and coercive asshole than he is.

If none of this sounds particularly appealing, that’s because — it’s not. Making things even more challenging is Levy’s relentless use of artsy experimental techniques, including intercutting fairly obvious symbology (i.e., meat being cut), utilizing occasional rapid-fire (subliminal) editing, and incorporating freeze-frames.

Sadly, both Levy and star Gothard (who is well cast) committed suicide themselves at the ages of 54 and 52 respectively, showing that the film’s topic wasn’t too far off the mark in relevance for those involved.

Note: Watch for Helen Mirren in her screen debut as a sexy commercial actress modeling orange rubber gloves.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Keith Allans’ cinematography

Must See?
No, unless you’re curious. Listed as a Cult Movie in the back of Peary’s book, which it may at one point have been.

Links: