Peter Sellers (1925-1980) was renowned as a gifted comedic genius, but it was also no secret that he was notoriously difficult on a movie set. His behavior during the making of the 17th century pirate comedy GHOST IN THE NOONDAY SUN in 1973 nearly destroyed the career of promising director Peter Medak, who at the time was riding high on the worldwide critical acclaim of 1972's THE RULING CLASS. The nightmare production of NOONDAY SUN haunted Medak so much over the years that he made the documentary THE GHOST OF PETER SELLERS as a sort-of therapeutic, closure-seeking exorcism. From 2016 to 2018, the now-82-year-old Medak and screenwriter friend Simon van der Borgh (IN TRANZIT) traveled across the US, Europe, and to the still-standing locations on Cyprus, interviewing some of the very few surviving actors and various others with connections--Sellers' personal assistant, co-writer/co-star Spike Milligan's agent, co-star Anthony Franciosa's widow, among others--to share their memories of a project that began with such promise and enthusiasm and quickly devolved into a miserable catastrophe thanks to Sellers' erratic and unpredictable behavior. Sellers pursued Medak for the project, and even though Sellers was in a major slump at the time prior to the PINK PANTHER series starting up again in 1975, the director jumped at the opportunity since "he was the greatest comic actor in the world." It was a big-budget production backed by Columbia and was being shot on location on Cyprus, but Medak sensed something was wrong before shooting even began. He met with Sellers to go over the script and it quickly became apparent that the star still hadn't even read it, and he was later distracted on the phone by an argument with girlfriend Liza Minnelli. Sellers then arrived on Cyprus "catatonically depressed" after breaking up with Minnelli the day before. Within a few days, Sellers somehow fired the producers and tried to talk Medak into quitting. Shortly after that, a long, complex exterior tracking shot was ruined when Sellers, already living with chronic cardiac issues after several mild heart attacks dating back to 1964, collapsed, screaming in agony, suffering another apparent heart attack. He was airlifted to a hospital as production was briefly halted while they waited for word on the star's condition. A few days later, Medak opened a Cyprus newspaper and saw a paparazzi shot of Sellers in London, out on the town with Princess Margaret. "Who fakes a heart attack when they already have a heart condition?" Medak wondered. "And how did he even get off the island?"
Sellers and Medak on the chaotic set of
the doomed GHOST IN THE NOONDAY SUN
Sellers returned to Cyprus two days after that with a fake doctor's note saying he couldn't work, and it became obvious to Medak that Sellers was deliberately trying to get out of the movie and was willing to sabotage it to do so. Columbia execs and producer John Heyman started sending telegrams to Medak threatening to fire him if he couldn't get his act together (Medak: "Tell fucking Heyman to get down here and try to control Peter!"). Sellers had a heated confrontation with Franciosa and refused to be in the same shots with him going forward (cue a scene with the two of them from NOONDAY SUN and it's glaringly obvious they weren't there at the same time). Shooting fell weeks behind schedule (Medak's handwritten notes: "Sellers pissed off," "Sellers refused to work," "Sellers being impossible again," and typed production notes documenting Sellers' numerous absences or needing to leave the set early because he was "seasick"). Sellers tried to organize a rebellion among the crew and called for a "no confidence" vote in Medak in an attempt to get him fired, then he threatened to quit unless Medak allowed his longtime friend Milligan to completely rewrite the script. In doing so, Milligan also gave himself a prominent and shamelessly mugging supporting role, but because so much time was lost, entire key scenes were never shot and when Columbia saw what Medak was barely able to cobble together, they refused to release the movie and shelved it. It's both darkly humorous and heartbreaking watching Medak relive these memories--the time and distance make him able to see the sheer absurdity in the way the film crashed and burned, but at the same time, it clearly had a profound effect on him. He gets quite emotional at times (Milligan's agent grabs him by the hand and tells him "You are more than this...you need to let it go"), though you see him finding some catharsis and much-needed closure during the process. And with his still-pronounced Hungarian accent, Medak's narration and observations bring to mind Werner Herzog, and THE GHOST OF PETER SELLERS has numerous similarities to Herzog's 1999 documentary MY BEST FIEND, about his tumultuous collaborations with the maniacal Klaus Kinski.
There's also some priceless home movie footage of Milligan cracking himself up reading his own script (it's interesting that not one clip of GHOST IN THE NOONDAY SUN shown here is even remotely funny in or out of context), or Medak having a sitdown with Sellers' CASINO ROYALE and THE MAGIC CHRISTIAN director Joseph McGrath and his FIENDISH PLOT OF DR. FU MANCHU director Piers Haggard as they share some Peter Sellers horror stories (McGrath: "It was never fun working with him"). Medak never became the auteur that THE RULING CLASS hinted he might be, but he went on to a busy journeyman career in film and TV, with projects ranging from excellent (1980's THE CHANGELING) to not (1986's THE MEN'S CLUB and 1998's SPECIES II), and he enjoyed a brief resurgence in the early '90s with a trio of acclaimed crime thrillers: 1990's THE KRAYS, 1991's LET HIM HAVE IT, and 1994's ROMEO IS BLEEDING. GHOST IN THE NOONDAY SUN remained unreleased for years before it surfaced in Canada in 1984 as THE PINK PIRATE (!) and eventually turning up on home video and syndicated TV in the US not long after. Medak gets a little meandering and veers off course at times, particularly during a long segue where Sellers talked him into directing a Benson & Hedges commercial during production. But it's a must for Sellers fans and a worthy addition to the "nightmare clusterfuck movie shoots" documentary subgenre along with the likes of BURDEN OF DREAMS, HEARTS OF DARKNESS, and LOST IN LA MANCHA. It's a fascinating look at a production gone horribly awry and a filmmaker who's been haunted by the traumatic experience for decades. As an emotional, teary-eyed Medak states at the end when he thinks of Sellers: "He was a fucking genius. And it was a great to be there for just a second, whatever pain it caused." (Unrated, 93 mins)
PORTRAIT OF A LADY ON FIRE (France - 2019)
One of last year's most acclaimed arthouse titles, French filmmaker Celine Sciamma's slow-burning period piece PORTRAIT OF A LADY ON FIRE got a brief Oscar qualifying run in NYC and L.A. in December 2019, but the COVID-19 coronavirus ended up shutting down its early 2020 rollout and relegating it to VOD. In late 17th century France, artist Marianne (Noemie Merlant) is hired by a Countess (Valeria Golino) to journey to an isolated island off the coast of Brittany. She is to paint a portrait of the Countess' daughter Heloise (Adele Haenel), who was recently whisked away from a convent to fulfill an arranged matrimonial contract with the son of a prominent Milanese family after the death of her older sister. "Did disease take her?" Marianne asks servant girl Sophie (Luana Bajrami), who replies with a curt, loaded "No." A previous painter was unable to complete a portrait of Heloise because she refused to sit for him. "She refuses this marriage," the Countess explains. Tasked with painting Heloise without her knowing it, Marianne agrees to the cover story of being hired as a companion for her walks, committing the details of her face to memory for the painting and serving as a deterrent should Heloise impulsively decide to commit suicide like her sister. The standoffish Heloise eventually opens up and the pair bond to the point where Marianne feels she must explain her true purpose for being there. Heloise sees the resulting portrait and dislikes it, prompting Marianne to destroy it. The Countess is about to dismiss Marianne until Heloise agrees to sit, with her mother announcing that she's going away for five days and she expects the work to be finished upon her return.
That Marianne and Heloise will fall into a forbidden romance is a given, but PORTRAIT has a lot to say about patriarchal society and the role of women within it, while drawing extensively from the story of Orpheus and Eurydice. Both Heloise and Sophie have a difficult time grasping the relative freedom Marianne enjoys. She has no plans of being married and is set to take over her father's business upon his retirement or death. In a world where women like Sophie exist to serve others and Heloise is forced into an arranged marriage as a replacement for her dead sister because, well, a deal's a deal (in her last letter to Heloise, her sister gave a vague apology, the meaning of which became unfortunately clear to her in the aftermath), Marianne's independence is an anomaly. With its ornate production design and some BARRY LYNDON-style natural lighting in its early sequences, PORTRAIT OF A LADY ON FIRE is exquisitely detailed almost to the point of Kubrickian detachment for a while, but around the time of the bonfire sequence, you realize just how much it's pulled you in and it really becomes an emotional wrecking ball in its closing minutes (and while there are fleeting erotic elements, we're not talking BLUE IS THE WARMEST COLOR here). The camera adores Haenel and her haunting, expressive eyes--she and Sciamma were a couple in the years prior to making this though they remain friends and professional collaborators--and this probably would've been a hit on the arthouse circuit had a pandemic not occurred. (R, 121 mins)
THE CHANGELING (Canada - 1980) Directed by Peter Medak. Written by William Gray and Diana Maddox. Cast: George C. Scott, Trish Van Devere, Melvyn Douglas, Jean Marsh, John Colicos, Barry Morse, Madeleine Thornton-Sherwood, Helen Burns, Frances Hyland, Ruth Springford, Eric Christmas, Roberta Maxwell, Bernard Behrens, J. Kenneth Campbell, Michelle Martin. (R, 107 mins)
Though a huge success in its native Canada, the tax shelter-era haunted house chiller THE CHANGELING was released to middling box office in the US in the spring of 1980, sandwiched between the previous year's megahit THE AMITYVILLE HORROR and the soon-to-be-released THE SHINING. While it didn't really find an audience in American theaters, it gained a strong cult following on cable and in video stores throughout the decade. Time has been kind to THE CHANGELING, and it's held in high regard today and belongs near the top of any short list of great haunted house horror movies, often mentioned in the same breath as 1963's THE HAUNTING and 1973's THE LEGEND OF HELL HOUSE. In a year where the horror genre was dominated by the controversy and game-changing impact of FRIDAY THE 13TH and the explosion of the slasher film, THE CHANGELING, directed by versatile career journeyman Peter Medak (THE RULING CLASS), brought a level of class and respectability thanks to the presence of revered, award-winning actors like George C. Scott and Melvyn Douglas and a notable lack of gore, exploitation, or even gratuitous post-EXORCIST/OMEN demonic histrionics (though one minor supporting character dies an OMEN-esque death late in the film). Even in 1980, THE CHANGELING felt like a bit of a throwback that didn't quite go in the direction that horror was trending, which may have diminished its commercial appeal then but almost certainly helped contribute to its ability to stand the test of time and remain as chillingly effective nearly 40 years later. The film has never been ideally represented on home video until now, thanks to Severin's recent Blu-ray release, which finally gives this classic the loving presentation it so richly deserves.
After his wife Joanna (Jean Marsh) and daughter Kathy (Michelle Martin) are tragically killed in a horrific road accident, music professor and composer John Russell (Scott) leaves NYC and moves to Seattle for a teaching position at his alma mater. Still grieving and looking for privacy and place to compose music, Russell rents the long-abandoned Chessman House, a massive, isolated Victorian mansion that's owned by the local historical society. It's more space than he needs, but there's a large music room with a grand piano, and he appears to be settling in until he's awakened every morning at 6:00 am by a loud banging that the caretaker writes off to the house having an "old furnace." Soon, there's strange sounds, doors slamming, faucets turning themselves on, and a brief apparition of a boy drowned in a bathtub. One historical society matron informs him "That house doesn't want people," criticizing society rep Claire Norman's (Trish Van Devere, Scott's wife) decision to lease the house to Russell. After other inexplicable instances--the discovery of a secret, hidden room, Russell finding a music box in the attic with a melody identical to the one he's been composing, and Kathy's ball bouncing down the steps, prompting him to throw it in a nearby river only to be greeted by the same, dripping wet ball bouncing down the steps to welcome him when he returns home--Russell and Claire make arrangements for a seance where the medium (Helen Burns) establishes contact with a restless spirit residing in the house and unable to find peace. At first, Russell assumes it's his daughter trying to make contact with him, but the spirit soon reveals itself to be a boy named Joseph who was killed in the house in 1906. What follows is a labyrinthine conspiracy mixing the paranormal and the political, especially once the events are brought to the attention of wealthy and powerful Senator Carmichael (Douglas), who seems to hold the key to the secret of what happened at the Chessman House over 70 years earlier and desperately wants to keep that truth buried.
THE CHANGELING is an absolutely terrifying film that's not easily shaken, with numerous spine-tingling scenes that stay with you and more than a few passing references to staple of the Italian horror and gialli (the central character being a composer, an old house with a horrible secret, the existence of a walled-up room where something unspeakable occurred). The believable performance of Scott keeps the film grounded and gives it an indisputable degree of seriousness and gravitas that a younger actor and character would've lacked. Scott's casting also links it to the then-trendy genre trope of aging Hollywood leading men doing horror (Gregory Peck in THE OMEN, William Holden in DAMIEN: OMEN II, Kirk Douglas in THE FURY, Charlton Heston in THE AWAKENING, etc), but the PATTON Oscar-winner plays it totally straight and never once conveys the feeling that the material is beneath him (for example, as great as it was, Peck wasn't that enthused about being in THE OMEN, and Holden only did the sequel after turning down the role that went to Peck and seeing what a blockbuster it became). The venerable Melvyn Douglas is also marvelous as the ailing politico with a dark secret. With a distinguished acting career that dated back to 1928, Douglas was coming off of his second Best Supporting Actor Oscar for 1979's BEING THERE (he also won for 1963's HUD) but certainly didn't phone it in for THE CHANGELING. The frail, 79-year-old actor can be seen late in the film slowly ascending a staircase that's engulfed in flames in a truly startling shot that wouldn't even be attempted today without the extensive deployment of unconvincing CGI ("Fucking Melvyn...he did it," Medak gushes on the Blu-ray's commentary track). A tireless workhorse to the end, Douglas died in August 1981, with his final two films released posthumously: the Peter Straub adaptation GHOST STORY (which teamed him with fellow legends Fred Astaire, Douglas Fairbanks Jr, and John Houseman) hit theaters in December 1981, while the little-seen Roger Vadim caper comedy THE HOT TOUCH received a very spotty release much later in December 1982.
Like THE SHINING, which would be in theaters two months later, or any great ghost story for that matter, THE CHANGELING gets a ton of atmosphere out its haunted central location, in this case the expansive Chessman House, represented by an exterior facade and built on three-story soundstage at a Vancouver production facility at the cost of $500,000. While lacking the hypnotic Steadicam effect of what Stanley Kubrick accomplished with THE SHINING, Medak still uses the house's endless corridors and maze-like structure to maximize tension and terror, even featuring one of the best horror movie staircases this side of PSYCHO. 1972's THE RULING CLASS hailed the Hungarian-born Medak as a major new talent, but the disastrous, long-shelved 1973 Peter Sellers comedy GHOST IN THE NOONDAY SUN immediately derailed him. He's alternated between TV and film for his entire career, job-hopping on a diverse list of TV staples like SPACE: 1999, HART TO HART, REMINGTON STEELE, MAGNUM P.I., FAERIE TALE THEATER, HOMICIDE: LIFE ON THE STREET, LAW & ORDER: SVU, THE WIRE, HOUSE, BREAKING BAD, and HANNIBAL. After THE CHANGELING, Medak floundered on the big screen in the '80s with misfires like ZORRO, THE GAY BLADE and THE MEN'S CLUB, but he enjoyed a bit of a resurgence in the early 1990s with a trio of acclaimed crime thrillers with THE KRAYS, LET HIM HAVE IT, and ROMEO IS BLEEDING before settling back into hired-gun mode with the likes of SPECIES II. The now-80-year-old Medak also directed the upcoming documentary THE GHOST OF PETER SELLERS, chronicling the chaotic shooting and colossal failure of GHOST IN THE NOONDAY SUN, which has clearly haunted him over the years like the spirit of Joseph in the Chessman House.
THE CHANGELING opening in
Toledo, OH on April 25, 1980.
