Opened 40 Years Ago: ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK (7/10/1981)

 

ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK opening
in Toledo, OH on 7/10/1981

Retro Review: WILLARD (1971) and BEN (1972)

WILLARD
(US - 1971)

Directed by Daniel Mann. Written by Gilbert A. Ralston. Cast: Bruce Davison, Ernest Borgnine, Sondra Locke, Elsa Lanchester, Michael Dante, Jody Gilbert, William Hansen, John Myhers, J. Pat O'Malley, Joan Shawlee, Alan Baxter, Sherry Presnell. (PG, 95 mins)

A surprise sleeper smash for Cinerama Releasing in the summer of 1971, WILLARD, from the masters of horror at Bing Crosby Productions, has been out of circulation for a number of years but has resurfaced, along with its sequel BEN, on Blu-ray courtesy of Shout! Factory. To those under 30, WILLARD has probably been supplanted by the minor cult following of its over-the-top 2003 remake, but for Gen Xers and older--those fortunate enough to have seen it theatrically or on one of its many TV airings as kids throughout the '70s and '80s--the original WILLARD remains one of the most beloved horror films of its day. It's creepy enough to make you squirm and give everyone the willies, but carries a PG (or GP at the time) rating that allowed it to have a huge impact on kids who were actually allowed to see it. It also helped that everyone at some point in their lives probably felt like Willard Stiles, the slumped-shouldered sad sack played by Bruce Davison in the role for which the veteran character actor is best known, even with a Best Supporting Actor Oscar nomination for 1990's LONGTIME COMPANION. Endlessly picked on at work by his cruel, bullying boss Al Martin (an essential Ernest Borgnine performance) and never given a moment of peace at home by his needy, domineering mother Henrietta (Elsa Lanchester), Willard is a ticking time bomb looking for a way out. He has no friends and his birthday party is attended only by his mother's elderly friends who start in on him about how he needs to stand up to Martin, a conniving asshole who co-owned a foundry with Willard's late father only to muscle him out of the partnership and stress him into an early grave. Martin kept Willard on the payroll as a consolation prize for being screwed out of co-ownership, putting him in sales accounting, dumping everyone else's work on him and forcing him to come in on weekends in the hopes that he'll quit. Willard's only joy in life comes from a family of rats he finds in the backyard. He spends all of his free time with them, playing with them and teaching them tricks, eventually getting them to understand voice commands and perhaps even developing a kind of psychological connection with them. He bonds with two in particular: good-natured and playful white rat Socrates and clingy and vaguely sinister black rat Ben.

Willard soon devotes all of his time to the rats, especially after his mother dies. He moves the fertile rat pack, which has grown exponentially, into the basement, where he has a hard time corralling and controlling them. He ignores the attention given to him by shy, pretty co-worker Joan (Sondra Locke, several years before hooking up with Clint Eastwood) and begins using the rats to plot vengeance against his tormentors. Director Daniel Mann (THE ROSE TATTOO, BUTTERFIELD 8, OUR MAN FLINT) and veteran TV writer Gilbert A. Ralston (BEN CASEY), working from Stephen Gilbert's 1969 novel Ratman's Notebooks, play a little coy with the horror element for a good chunk of the film's running time, whether it's the lighthearted, cute antics of the rats or the completely, almost sarcastically inappropriate score, which sounds like it belongs in a cheerful, uplifting kids movie. Willard just seems shy, lonely, and unable to stand up for himself until his dark side takes over. First it's relatively harmless pranks like setting some rats loose at a swanky work party hosted by Martin that everyone was invited to except Willard, who was nevertheless put in charge of mailing the invitations. But before long, he's using the rats as a decoy to stage a theft of some cash at the home of Martin's sleazy new business partner (Alan Baxter) and eventually, after bringing Socrates and Ben to work with him only to have Martin kill Socrates after he's spotted in the supply closet, training them to attack under the newly-assumed leadership of Ben. It's about 2/3 of the way through WILLARD before its shift to outright horror, and the much talked-about scene where Willard finally exacts his revenge on Martin by bringing along a few thousand of his friends ("Tear him up!" a wild-eyed Willard commands) was the kind of cathartic, crowd-pleasing entertainment that helped make WILLARD such a huge word-of-mouth hit.

WILLARD's inspired willingness to go off the rails in the home stretch makes it especially endearing all these years later. With his mother gone and Martin no longer around to make his life miserable, Willard is finally free and doesn't need his rodent friends anymore. But Ben, feeling rejected on an almost-FATAL ATTRACTION level, won't be ignored, and the scene where Willard's romantic dinner with Joan is interrupted when he spots Ben on the mantle stink-eye squinting at him in a jealous, silent rage is absolute genius. WILLARD inspired one direct ripoff with 1972's STANLEY, about a PTSD-stricken Vietnam vet (Chris Robinson) who trains his pet rattlesnake to take out his enemies, but can be seen in retrospect as a loose precursor to two later 1970s trends: the "nature run amok" (JAWS, GRIZZLY, THE FOOD OF THE GODS, etc) and the "social outcast exacting telepathic revenge" subgenres (CARRIE and JENNIFER--the latter about a teenage girl with both CARRIE-like powers and an ability to control snakes, starring Lisa Pelikan, who was married to Davison for many years--as well as popular made-for-TV-movies like THE SPELL and THE INITIATION OF SARAH). What helps WILLARD a lot is the genuinely terrific performance by Davison, who sells the character much the way Anthony Perkins did with Norman Bates in PSYCHO. Sure, there's the similarities in that they're both sheltered mama's boys, but like Norman Bates, you sympathize with Willard until he starts crossing lines. Norman Bates got off easy by getting to spend two decades in an institution for his crimes. Willard Stiles wasn't so lucky: he made the mistake of fucking with Ben.

WILLARD opening in Toledo, OH on July 2, 1971

BEN
(US - 1972)

Directed by Phil Karlson. Written by Gilbert A. Ralston. Cast: Joseph Campanella, Arthur O'Connell, Meredith Baxter, Lee Harcourt Montgomery, Rosemary Murphy, Kaz Garas, Kenneth Tobey, Paul Carr, Richard Van Fleet, James Luisi, Norman Alden. (PG, 94 mins)

In theaters less than 12 months after WILLARD, the quickie sequel BEN looks and feels even more like a made-for-TV movie than its predecessor, a vibe enhanced by the presence of TV stalwarts like Joseph Campanella and a young Meredith Baxter in leading roles, both of whom accumulating only a small handful of big-screen credits over their long careers (unless I'm mistaken, BEN is the only time Campanella headlined a theatrical release). Stepping in for Daniel Mann was veteran journeyman Phil Karlson, whose directing career dated back to Charlie Chan and Bowery Boys programmers in the 1940s and included some westerns and film noir in the 1950s and Dean Martin's Matt Helm movies in the 1960s. Karlson's biggest success would come 30 years into his career with his next-to-last film when, right after BEN, he directed the surprise 1973 blockbuster WALKING TALL, with Joe Don Baker in his signature role as ass-kicking, hickory-clubbing Sheriff Buford Pusser. Karlson came from the "Let's just get it in the can and move on" school of no-nonsense efficiency, but things get off to a shaky start with an awkward and stilted opening with a bunch of people standing as silent and still as a freeze frame outside the home of Willard Stiles, with BEN picking up immediately after the events of WILLARD. Willard's body has been found in the attic following the Ben-orchestrated revenge attack on him. Dogged detectives Kirtland (Campanella) and Greer (Kaz Garas) find Willard's diary, where he details his training of an army of rats, but the incredulous cops are quick to dismiss it as the rantings of a kook since the rats are nowhere to be found. That's because Ben has directed them to hide in the walls undetected, and while the detectives bicker with cigar-chomping newshound Hatfield (Arthur O'Connell), Ben waits patiently to lead them to a safe place. The safe place turns out to be the sewer, from which Ben and a few other scouts emerge to befriend lonely Danny (Lee Harcourt Montgomery), a frail eight-year-old with a weak heart who lives in Willard's neighborhood. Like Willard, Danny has no friends and spends his time putting on marionette shows in the garage, converted into a workshop/playroom by his single mom Beth (Rosemary Murphy) and big sister Eve (Baxter). Danny and Ben bond immediately, with Ben doing for Danny exactly what he did for Willard when he leads a rat attack on a neighborhood bully who's picking on Danny. Meanwhile, Kirtland and Hatfield are scouring the city for the rat army, though who knows what they intend to do when they find it?

BEN wasn't as big of a hit was WILLARD, though it was just as ubiquitous on late-night TV in the '70s and '80s. With the killer rat angle already established, BEN is able to get right to the horror element and as such, it follows a template not unlike later slasher films like HALLOWEEN, with Ben and the rats terrorizing a small suburban town and going back into hiding, pursued by cops and the media, both of whom have little success in catching them as the body count escalates. Again scripted by Gilbert A. Ralston, BEN manages to be simultaneously more nasty and grisly and more maudlin and silly than WILLARD. There's some amusing scenes like rats invading a health spa and walking on treadmills and an absolutely ludicrous shot of Ben and a few other rats peeking out of the sewer with their eyes fixated on the display window of a nearby cheese shop, not to mention the fact that while Danny speaks and Ben squeaks, they're both able to understand each other perfectly ("Which way, Ben?  Left or right?" Danny asks, to which Ben replies with a series of short squeaks.  "OK, left!" Danny somehow concludes). But elsewhere, it goes bigger and grosser. There's several times the number of rats here than in WILLARD and Karlson really likes going for lingering shots of them swarming over a victim, putting several cast members in visibly unpleasant situations (Eve ends up looking for Danny in the sewer, and Baxter proves herself a real sport by crawling through all sorts of wet gunk and piles of live rats in the glory days of pre-CGI), or taking over a grocery store to the point where literally the entire floor is covered in large rats climbing all over one another. Young Montgomery, who would go on to be a regular presence in '70s horror cult classics like BURNT OFFERINGS (1976) and in the terrifying "Bobby" segment of the TV-movie DEAD OF NIGHT (1977), is pretty hard to take as the whiny Danny, but he's boldly fearless when it comes to working and physically interacting with his rodent co-stars. BEN could use more smartass banter between seasoned pros Campanella and O'Connell and less of Montgomery's Danny and his marionette song and dance productions, but kids ended up digging WILLARD, so they had to make BEN appeal to that audience. That appeal went so far as getting 13-year-old Michael Jackson to record the title song, a heartwarming ballad about a young boy and his best friend who happens to be a super intelligent, insanely possessive, serial-killing rodent. Titled "Ben" but generally known as "Ben's Song," Jackson's theme song ultimately ended up being more popular than the movie it was from, becoming his first chart-topping solo hit and scoring a Best Original Song Oscar nomination, losing to Maureen McGovern's "The Morning After" from THE POSEIDON ADVENTURE. Yes, BEN is an Oscar-nominated film.

Retro Review: SUPER FUZZ (1981)

SUPER FUZZ
(Italy - 1980; US release 1981)

Directed by Sergio Corbucci. Written by Sergio Corbucci and Sabatino Ciufini. Cast: Terence Hill, Ernest Borgnine, Joanne Dru, Marc Lawrence, Julie Gordon, Lee Sandman, Sal Borgese, Woody Woodbury, Dow Stout, Herb Goldstein, Sergio Smacchi, Don Sebastian, Claudio Ruffini, Jack McDermott. (PG, 101 mins)

If you were an 8-to-10-year-old boy anywhere from 1981 to 1984, chances are there was a brief moment in time when SUPER FUZZ was your favorite movie. Playing regionally across the US from the fall of 1981 to the summer of 1982, SUPER FUZZ became a sleeper hit and is probably the best known Terence Hill solo movie in America after the early '70s smashes THEY CALL ME TRINITY (1970) and TRINITY IS STILL MY NAME (1971) that paired him with frequent co-star Bud Spencer. Born in 1939, Hill, whose career began under his real name Mario Girotti in films like Luchino Visconti's THE LEOPARD (1963), found a niche in post-Sergio Leone/Clint Eastwood spaghetti westerns in the late '60s after adopting the Americanized "Terence Hill" pseudonym. Likewise, "Bud Spencer" was an alias for burly Carlo Pedersoli, and starting with 1967's GOD FORGIVES...I DON'T! and its sequels, 1968's ACE HIGH and 1969's BOOT HILL, Hill and Spencer made over 20 films together, with the last being 1994's TROUBLEMAKERS. By 1970, they were among the top box office draws in Europe, with the two TRINITY spaghetti western spoofs becoming major successes in the States. The duo would periodically make solo films but they were almost never as well-received on their own as they were together, though Hill enjoyed some success teaming with Henry Fonda for the Sergio Leone-produced 1973 spaghetti western MY NAME IS NOBODY. But when he tried his luck at crossing over to Hollywood in 1977, starring with Jackie Gleason in the comedy MR. BILLION and with Gene Hackman in the epic Foreign Legion adventure MARCH OR DIE, both films bombed and Hill went back to Italy to lick his wounds. Spencer's only attempt at going Hollywood never came to fruition: in 1987, Menahem Golan tried to kickstart an American career for him with the Cannon family comedy MY AFRICAN ADVENTURE, but Spencer was ultimately replaced by Dom DeLuise and the film retitled GOING BANANAS. His best-known solo vehicle away from Hill is 1979's THE SHERIFF AND THE SATELLITE KID, an Italian-produced, Georgia-shot CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND-inspired kids movie that skipped US theaters and debuted on cable. Spencer was paired with young Cary Guffey, memorably abducted by aliens in the Spielberg classic but here playing a cute extraterrestrial child who lands in Atlanta and spends a lot of time hanging out at Six Flags with the gruff Italian western star.

"Supa snoooo-paaaaah!"

While Spencer was making SATELLITE KID and its 1980 sequel WHY DID YOU PICK ON ME?, Hill starred in SUPER SNOOPER, a superhero cop comedy shot in Miami and directed by DJANGO auteur Sergio Corbucci. SUPER SNOOPER was acquired by Avco Embassy and retitled SUPER FUZZ for its October 1981 US release. Rather than opening it in theaters nationwide, Avco Embassy struck a limited number of prints and rolled it out regionally, moving from the west coast to the east coast at malls and drive-ins over a nine-month period. With a big TV push, the film became a moderate hit whose cult grew exponentially when it appeared on HBO by 1983, where its frequency in airing was perhaps rivaled only by THE BEASTMASTER. Possibly among the ten dumbest comedies ever made, SUPER FUZZ is ingratiatingly silly and filled with enough slapstick antics that it's easy to see why it appealed to young boys at an impressionable age. With his slight Italian accent giving him an Inspector Clouseau-meets-Latka Gravas goofball charm, Hill is engaging in a cartoonish way, mugging shamelessly as grinning, wide-eyed doofus Dave Speed, a rookie Miami cop delivering a traffic citation to an abandoned part of the Everglades where the government is testing a nuclear bomb (!). Unable to make it out in time, he's presumed killed in the line of duty until he reappears several hours later, boasting telepathic powers thanks to the radiation exposure. Paired with irate Willy Dunlop (Ernest Borgnine), a disgraced captain busted down to patrol duty, Dave finds he can see through and move objects, walk on water, catch bullets with his teeth, land on his feet after jumping out of the window of a skyscraper, outrun cars, fly through the air, create a makeshift radio just by making the "call me" gesture with his hand, and later, when he's falsely accused of murder, he can escape execution multiple times by beating the gas chamber, the electric chair, hanging, and a firing squad. His Kryptonite is the color red, a fact uncovered by fading '40s starlet Rosy Labouche ('40s and '50s leading lady Joanne Dru, in her first film since 1965 and her last before her death in 1996), the aging moll of Miami gangster Tony Torpedo (Marc Lawrence). Torpedo's nefarios plan is using his fish distribution company as a front for a counterfeit money operation that's being targeted by Dave and Willy, a former Hollywood stuntman still nursing a 40-year-old crush on Rosy.

Borgnine most likely shouting "ARE YOU CRAZY?!" 

SUPER FUZZ's infectious stupidity starts immediately, with the theme song "Super Snooper," performed by The Oceans. It's the kind of song that sticks with you forever, and its oft-invoked refrain--just one quick "Supa snooooo-paaaaaah!" functioning as a de facto mic drop whenever Dave does something amazing--was probably enough to induce giggle fits in the target demographic then and nostalgic chuckles to that same group now. There is no limit to how ludicrous SUPER FUZZ can be: marvel at how Dave gives three Torpedo guys a beatdown in a dog kennel, then frees the dogs and then crams the three guys into the cage as Corbucci ends the scene with goons panting; behold Dave's ability to communicate with fish while he's under water; and brace yourself for his ultimate display of superhero power ("Supa snooooo-paaaaaah!") as he rescues Willy from a sunken boat by chewing some gum and blowing a bubble so big that it lifts them out of the water and flies them high in the sky above Miami. Hill and Borgnine make a likable team, with Borgnine's Willy especially blustery over Dave's budding romance with his niece Evelyn (Julie Gordon). If you revisit SUPER FUZZ now and don't find yourself transported back to your childhood days of carefree innocence and a significantly less-refined taste in comedy, you can at least get shitfaced by taking a drink every time a harumphing, bloviating Borgnine gets a flustered "Why I oughta..." look on his face and shouts "Are you crazy?!" whenever Super Fuzz does something obviously crazy.

"Supa snoooo-paaaaah!" 

Avco Embassy made a few incidental changes to SUPER SNOOPER in its rechristening as SUPER FUZZ: some of the score cues throughout were replaced with more American-sounding library tracks and some minor edits were made to shorten the running time by a few minutes. The version currently streaming on Amazon is the European SUPER SNOOPER cut, in a pristine HD print with English audio and Italian credits sporting the title POLIZIOTTO SUPERPIU. Kudos to Avco Embassy for not messing up a great thing and leaving the song "Super Snooper" alone. A beloved figure in Italy, Hill is still with us--he's been starring as a crime-solving priest in the popular Italian TV series DON MATTEO since 2000--is very active on social media, and still looks spry and youthful at 78 (Spencer died in 2016 at 86). Where's the SUPER FUZZ Blu-ray with a Terence Hill commentary?

SUPER FUZZ opening in Toledo, OH on 1/29/1982

A recent photo of Hill, posted on his official Facebook page. 

On DVD/Blu-ray: Shout! Factory Roundup

With their Roger Corman line and their endless parade of classic TV shows among other offerings, it's been a busy couple of years for Shout! Factory, who have quietly emerged as the top genre Blu-ray/DVD label for serious cult movie fans and only look to get bigger with their "Scream Factory" offshoot and an MGM licensing deal.  Here's a look at several of their releases from the last couple of months.


CRIME STORY (Hong Kong - 1993)/
THE PROTECTOR (US/Hong Kong - 1985)

Two atypical Jackie Chan films are paired on a single disc, starting with 1993's CRIME STORY, which was released in a dubbed version in the US by Dimension Films in 1996 to capitalize Chan's RUMBLE IN THE BRONX breakthrough (this offers the English dub and the original Cantonese with English subtitles).  It's a different kind of Chan film in that it's a dark and very violent kidnapping thriller that's completely lacking his usual comedic flair.  In a role originally intended for Jet Li, Chan is Detective Eddie Chan, an honest cop trying to get to the bottom of the abduction of a millionaire construction magnate.  CRIME STORY reveals early on that the culprit is actually Chan's partner Hung (Kent Cheng) and there's a nice pre-INFERNAL AFFAIRS vibe to their game of cat & mouse as Hung gets increasingly nervous about Chan's incessant digging.  Chan found the film too dark and insisted, against the wishes of director Kirk Wong (who's interviewed on the Blu-ray) on dumping a subplot about Det. Chan's psychological issues and adding some typically acrobatic martial-arts action sequences.  These scenes don't really gel with the gritty vibe Wong was going for, and because we know in the very beginning that Hung is responsible, there isn't a whole lot of suspense in the film.  The spectacular action scenes then, are really the highpoints, so perhaps Chan was right to overrule Wong.  CRIME STORY suffers from inconsistent pacing, Chan's need to present his character as selflessly heroic as possible (not one, but two scenes where he puts his job aside to rescue someone in distress--you're the hero, we get it) and a very intrusive score, but the memorable action scenes, including one incredible car chase, make it worthwhile.  Wong came to Hollywood a few years later for the 1998 Mark Wahlberg actioner THE BIG HIT, but hasn't directed a film since 2000's THE DISCIPLES, which is credited to "Alan Smithee."

Coming a decade before Chan finally found success in the US with RUMBLE IN THE BRONX, 1985's much-maligned THE PROTECTOR was the second attempt by Golden Harvest to make Jackie Chan a star in the US.  1980's THE BIG BRAWL bombed and Chan's co-starring roles in both CANNONBALL RUN films did little to endear him to American fans.  Chan was never happy with THE PROTECTOR and reportedly clashed with writer/director James Glickenhaus (THE EXTERMINATOR) throughout the shoot and eventually ended up preparing his own version of the film for the Asian market, adding fight scenes and reshooting others, dumping the nudity and the profanity to make it a more traditional Chan film.  THE PROTECTOR tanked in the US, grossing less than $1 million, but time has been pretty kind to it.  If one approaches it as a Glickenhaus film first and a Chan film second, they'll have a better time with it.  The first 20 minutes contain some vintage Glickenhaus fused with Chan's incredible stuntwork.  Chan is NYC cop Billy Wong, who's sent to Hong Kong with crass partner Garoni (Danny Aiello) to take down the crime lord who's kidnapped the daughter of a Manhattan business partner.  THE PROTECTOR drags a bit in the middle, but Glickenhaus, one of the action genre's most underrated craftsman, is really at the top of his game here and the film is immensely enjoyable if you're into the whole trashy B-movie thing.  It's nonstop F-bombs (even one from Chan!), gratuitous nudity, insane violence, Aiello dialing his Noo Yawk schtick to 11, and every cop movie cliche known to man.  Shout's 1.85:1 Blu-ray features some nice extras, including an interview with a diplomatic Glickenhaus, who says the disagreements came after the film was finished and insists he and Chan were always amicable and professional, a great featurette showing the NYC locations then and now, and the 88-minute Chan-supervised Asian cut, dubbed in Cantonese with English subtitles.  It follows the same basic plot structure, but adds a subplot with actress Sally Yeh and has enough major differences that it qualifies as a completely different film. (CRIME STORY: Unrated, 107 mins./THE PROTECTOR: R, 95 mins; THE PROTECTOR, Chan cut: Unrated, 88 mins)

DEADLY BLESSING
(US - 1981)

Low-key Wes Craven horror film takes its time getting revved up, but offers a few decent scares and one memorable bathtub encounter with a snake that's endeared itself to devout followers of '80s horror cinema.  After her husband dies mysteriously, pregnant Maren Jensen (the original BATTLESTAR GALACTICA) and her two visiting friends (GREASE's Susan Buckner and Sharon Stone in one of her earliest roles) are terrorized and persecuted by the husband's estranged family, a community of Hittites from which he was banished.  Craven does some clever misdirection and we're of course led to believe that Jensen's irate father-in-law (Ernest Borgnine) is behind all the mayhem, but that's too easy and always be wary of prominently billed actors who don't appear to have much to do with the plot.  DEADLY BLESSING almost feels like the kind of slow-burner that a lot of indie horror filmmakers are going for today (I'm surprised it hasn't been remade with some kind of Westboro Baptist Church-type extremist group in place of the Hittites), and it subverts expectations time and again.  The plot twist in the finale is genuinely unexpected in the way it changes your views of the perceived crazies and who the real antagonists of the story were.  An interesting and unusual film that's marred only by a last shot that feels like it doesn't belong, only in the sense that it takes a frightening premise essentially grounded in reality and turns it otherworldly and supernatural in a way that provides a cool shock to go out on, but also cheapens the film to some degree.  Also with Lois Nettleton, Michael Berryman (as the Hittite village idiot...or is he?), Jeff East, and "introducing" Lisa Hartman, even though she'd been in several TV movies and starred in a TV series years before doing this film.  Shout's 1.78:1 Blu-ray features a commentary with Craven and Horror's Hallowed Ground's Sean Clark (where Craven admits he hasn't seen the film in many years and is "foggy" on a lot of details but says he's always been "embarrassed" by the last shot), and interviews with Buckner and Berryman.  (R, 102 mins)

DEATH VALLEY
(US - 1982)

This desert-set thriller wasn't a success in theaters, coming along at the height of the slasher craze, but it's bit more restrained than most (there's some brief nudity and a couple of gory throat slicings) and feels a lot like a made-for-TV movie.  Heavy cable rotation in the mid-1980s has earned it some sentimental affection and a devoted cult following.  For the most part, it's sluggishly-paced and rather average, with an overbearing score by Dana Kaproff that really goes out of its way to mimic Bernard Herrmann at his stringiest, but it has its moments and Stephen McHattie is a memorably effective killer, pursuing young Peter Billingsley (a year before A CHRISTMAS STORY), who's vacationing in Arizona with his divorced mom (Catherine Hicks) and her new boyfriend (Paul Le Mat).  Director Dick Richards and screenwriter Richard Rothstein give us a lot of repetitious character-building scenes of young Billingsley sullenly giving Le Mat the cold shoulder before forming a tentative bond, but things pick up considerably once Le Mat and Hicks go out to dinner, leaving Billingsley alone with one of horror cinema's most useless babysitters as McHattie shows up ready to kill.  Shout's 1.78:1 Blu-ray transfer looks good and there's a commentary track with Richards, best known as the producer of 1982's TOOTSIE and as the guy who got into an on-set brawl with Burt Reynolds during the making of 1987's ill-fated HEAT.  DEATH VALLEY isn't bad--it was nice to revisit it after 30 years but it's nothing special, and a good example of something whose status may be elevated somewhat because it was seen at such an impressionable age.  (R, 88 mins)

THE DUELLISTS
(UK - 1977)

Ridley Scott's debut feature wasn't a big box office hit but it became a major cult film and established him as enough of a visual stylist that it led to his breakthrough blockbuster ALIEN two years later.  Based on Joseph Conrad's short story "The Duel," THE DUELLISTS finds two French army officers in the Napoleonic era, D'Hubert (Keith Carradine) and Feraud (Harvey Keitel), engaged in a nearly 20-year battle over a perceived insult that neither of them even remember by the end of the film.  In 1800, the easy-going D'Hubert was assigned to find hot-tempered, bullying Feraud and place him under house arrest at the base camp after the dueling-obsessed Feraud nearly killed the local mayor's son.  An offended Feraud instead takes his frustrations out on D'Hubert and so begins a grudge match that consumes their lives over the next two decades.  Their battle is a metaphor for the madness of war, a recurrent Conrad theme that was being explored at the same time by Francis Ford Coppola's APOCALYPSE NOW (1979), of course based on Conrad's novel Heart of Darkness.  Working with fencing choreographer William Hobbs (whose expertise also helped make 1973's THE THREE MUSKETEERS, 1974's THE FOUR MUSKETEERS, and 1981's EXCALIBUR, among others, so memorable) and debuting cinematographer Frank Tidy (who never again shot a film this beautiful), Scott makes his mark with THE DUELLISTS, showcasing intense, brutal, bloody duels (how did this manage to get a PG rating?), and utilizing the natural lighting style that made Stanley Kubrick's BARRY LYNDON (1975) so visually stunning.  Shout's Blu-ray looks very good, easily the best it's ever looked since it was in theaters, but shows some wear at times, and it's likely just inherent in the 1970s film stock.  Some of the exterior shots (particularly in the closing scene) and ornate interiors are absolutely breathtaking.  Carradine and Keitel do good work, despite both being miscast as officers in Napoleon's army.  Scott gathered a fine supporting cast:  Edward Fox, Robert Stephens, Cristina Raines, Tom Conti, Diana Quick, Alan Webb, Jenny Runacre, Alun Armstrong, Maurice Colbourne, W. Morgan Sheppard, a young Pete Postlethwaite, and Albert Finney.  Narrated by Stacy Keach. Carradine and Keitel would reunite a decade later in Damiano Damiani's ancient Rome-set religious mystery THE INQUIRY (1986). (PG, 100 mins)

THE SEVEN-PER-CENT SOLUTION
(US - 1976)

The 1970s saw numerous revisionist Sherlock Holmes films, such as Billy Wilder's THE PRIVATE LIFE OF SHERLOCK HOLMES (1970) and THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS (1971), with George C. Scott as a mental patient who thinks he's Holmes.  THE SEVEN-PER-CENT SOLUTION, adapted by Nicholas Meyer (TIME AFTER TIME, STAR TREK II: THE WRATH OF KHAN) from his own novel, opens with the dark, rarely-depicted-on-screen drug-addicted side of Holmes, showing the great detective (Nicol Williamson) in the midst of a crazed cocaine binge as his brother Mycroft (Charles Gray) and Dr. Watson (Robert Duvall) conspire to trick him into going to Vienna to rehab with none other than the renowned Dr. Sigmund Freud (Alan Arkin).  While in Vienna, a cleaned-up, clear-thinking Holmes finds himself with Watson and Freud in pursuit of one of Freud's kidnapped patients (Vanessa Redgrave).  All of this leads to a thrilling train chase and Holmes and the villain squaring off for a swashbuckling showdown atop a speeding train.  Meyer and director Herbert Ross find the perfect balance between drama, humor, and spectacular action throughout, and while such shifts in tone might have come off as jarringly uneven, they make it a very natural and organic progression.  Williamson's Holmes ranks among the best, and while Duvall initially feels miscast as Watson, he eventually settles into the role and captures the spirit of Watson even if is his strange accent is a bit distracting.  The film is mainly played straight, especially in the early going, but has a lot of humor, such as Holmes and Watson investigating a bordello where Holmes tries to shield the proper Watson's eyes from some of the more lascivious sights on display (it plays like a moment that Williamson might have ad-libbed).  This was a big-budget release from Universal, and Meyer's script got an Oscar nomination, but these days, THE SEVEN-PER-CENT SOLUTION is generally well-regarded but remains little known outside of cult movie circles and hardcore Holmes enthusiasts, which is a shame.  It's a rousing adventure, brilliantly acted, and prefigures Guy Ritchie's SHERLOCK HOLMES in a number of ways, and Robert Downey, Jr.'s portrayal of Holmes owes much to Williamson's often manic interpretation of the character.  Also with Laurence Olivier as an innocent, falsely-accused Moriarty, Joel Grey, Samantha Eggar, and Jeremy Kemp, THE SEVEN-PER-CENT SOLUTION is a richly entertaining film that's aged beautifully.  Shout's 1.85:1 transfer spotlights Ken Adam's stunning production design, and the Blu-ray/DVD combo set also offers an interview with Meyer.  (PG, 114 mins)

Cult Classics Revisited, Special "Super Bowl Stupidity" Edition: THE LAST MATCH (1990)

THE LAST MATCH
(Italy - 1990)

Directed by Larry Ludman (Fabrizio De Angelis).  Written by Gianfranco Clerici and Vincenzo Mannino.  Cast: Oliver Tobias, Ernest Borgnine, Henry Silva, Charles Napier, Martin Balsam, Melissa Palmisano, Jeff Moldovan, Jim Kelly, Jim Kiick, Jim Jensen, Bart Schuchts, Elmer Bailey, Mark Rush. (Unrated, 85 mins)

In a perfect world, THE LAST MATCH would be an integral part of the Super Bowl pre-game show, an ideal time to annually visit one of the all-time dumbest action movies ever barely released to an ambivalent public. Made at the end of the '80s Italian action cycle and, as far as I can tell, never released in the US, not even on video (IMDb credits Vidmark Entertainment, and the above art--not only showcasing '70s-style "faces in boxes" but also head shots of the actors that actually appear to be from the '70s--has the Imperial Entertainment logo, but neither ended up actually releasing it), this hilariously awful actioner from director/head coach Fabrizio De Angelis (utilizing his trusty "Larry Ludman" alias seen on such 1980s video store mainstays as the THUNDER WARRIOR trilogy, DEADLY IMPACT and the KARATE KID ripoff KARATE WARRIOR), with input from offensive coordinator Gianfranco Clerici and special teams coach Vincenzo Mannino, fails to execute its howler of a game plan, drawing multiple flags for sheer idiocy.

Pro football quarterback Cliff Gaylor (Oliver Tobias) calls an audible (OK, I'll stop) when his daughter Jenny (Melissa Palmisano) is falsely accused of drug smuggling and thrown in prison while vacationing in an unnamed Latin American country. After a useless US Embassy official (Charles Napier) does nothing but refer him to a corrupt local attorney (a profusely sweaty Martin Balsam), Gaylor thinks all hope is lost. That is, until his gruff, fatherly coach (Ernest Borgnine) shows up with the team to draw up the perfect game plan.  And Borgnine is a coach who really thinks outside the box:  the team brought along their uniforms and equipment, along with props like a sliced-open football, into which their kicker stuffs a grenade and punts at a hovering chopper! Coach Borgnine and his special infrared binoculars are able to survey the prison and he directs his players where to fire and when to attack, which they do with enthusiastic grunts of "Hut! Hut! Hut!" as they crash through doors and walls, guns blazing, clad in full game-day attire. Why? Because it's the biggest game of their lives! Evil, leering prison warden Henry Silva never stands a chance against this Hall of Shame team!

I'm not making this up.  This movie is for real.  It exists.  Don't believe me?  Well, here you go:

The above clip, coupled with the one below, is essentially THE LAST MATCH in a nutshell.  This second clip gives you more "Hut! Hut! Hut!" football commando action, Henry Silva overacting,  Coach Ernie's infrared binoculars, staggeringly bad music, a sleepy Tobias, and even an inside-the-helmet POV shot.

THE LAST MATCH probably sounds a lot more delirious than it plays.  It's carelessly shot and lacks even the production values of cheap Italian action films of just a few years earlier, with much of the budget obviously going to aging, coasting vets like Borgnine, Balsam, and Silva.  But once the football commandos suit up and raid Silva's prison, it becomes every bit the lunatic idiocy that the poster promises. The film was shot in Florida, and adding to its insanity is that it also offers supporting roles for a few off-season or retired football players with Florida ties as members of Coach Ernie's football commando unit:  former Florida State star and then-Buffalo Bills QB Jim Kelly (early in the Bills' 1989-93 stretch of Super Bowl futility, for which THE LAST MATCH must at least be partially accountable) and all-purpose Miami Dolphin Jim "Crash" Jensen are clearly visible, along with some retired Dolphins like tailback Mike Kozlowsky, receiver Elmer Bailey and Jim Kiick, a RB with the legendary undefeated 1972 team.  Former Miami Hurricanes RB Mark Rush and Bart Schuchts, a Florida State standout and then-linebacker for the Arena League's Denver Dynamite, also appear.   Has Jim Kelly ever fessed up to being in this thing?  There's no mention of it on his Wikipedia page or his web site.  Why is he in this?  How did this happen?  Did he have nothing better to do in his offseason?  Kelly was at the height of his career in 1990--it's amazing that he wasn't used to sell this in the US.  I wonder why they didn't just go ahead and make this an outright comedy. It's actually played totally serious, though Borgnine seems to be at least partially amused. Silva doesn't do much but smirk at Tobias, leer at Palmisano and yell at his guards, while Napier and Balsam aren't even in it enough to register. Tobias, who previously played for Coach Fabrizio on the much better COBRA MISSION (aka OPERATION NAM), is terrible, trying to be all grim and pissed-off but looking more like he took a sedative that's just starting to kick in.

Packed with establishing and filler shots that take entirely too much screen time (not to mention a completely anti-climactic ten-minute coda that just proves De Angelis has no idea how to piece together a convincing-looking football game), clumsy shots of the unnamed Latin American country that happens to have Florida highway signs, an utterly terrible score, slumming name actors (including two Oscar winners in Borgnine and Balsam), a woefully weak lead performance, and arguably the most ridiculous premise in all of 1980s (for all practical purposes) Italian B-movie action, THE LAST MATCH is a total fumble, but a must-see for all bad-movie aficionados.