Movietale Review: PUSS IN BOOTS (1988, Eugene Marner)

Stars: 3 of 5.
Running Time: 96 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Produced by Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus' Cannon Films. Starring Christopher Walken, Jason Connery (son of Sean, THE LORDS OF DISCIPLINE, MERLIN), Carmela Marner (Cannon's BEAUTY AND THE BEAST, a waitress in EYES WIDE SHUT).
Tag-lines: "Meet the craftiest cat in the kingdom!"
Best one-liner: "Imagine giving you the sausage, Puss. I should make a sausage out of you. You'd make... one decent meal, and a fur cap. Is that all you can do for me, Puss? A sausage and a fur cap...?"

The trailer for PUSS IN BOOTS proclaims it to be 'A Cannon MOVIETALE' and shows a dusty, leatherbound tome emblazoned with their glorious logo which opens to reveal...


...Well, Golan and Globus, I'm not gonna lie- you had me at 'Cannon Movietale.' And what a tale it is.

Christopher Walken plays the eponymous feline in footwear as a 'man with a lot of cat-like tics.'

MEW

He's fantastic. But he's not a cat. My girlfriend remarked that the only thing that made Puss special was the fact that he was a CAT making all these shrewd, political power-plays. She said, "A MAN in boots ain't worth shit!" And it's kinda true. If it was just some schmo tooling around the countryside in boots, I'd have no reason to care. But since it's Walken, prancing and singing and dancing a jig, winking almost nonstop, ruffling his eyebrows to entice a pheasant, twirling his mustache, and taunting an ogre while trotting about in a deluxe Tricorner hat- I have to take this very seriously.

"I might explode, but,...

...what, the whoa...

...I still have got eight lives, to go!"

He's doing that thing he does where he removes all punctuation from the script and fashions his own grammatical rules (i.e., "Get me some boots" becomes "Get me, some boots...!"). This works wonderfully. "I might explode, but, what the whoa– I still have got eight lives, to go!" The movietale itself starts with a bang– within the first 15 seconds, we have got a storm, frightened peasants, and ogre (who I actually think SHREK ripped off)

transforming into lions, tigers, and bears via blue, electrical flashes!

RAWRR

FOOOSH

GRRR

Cannon does the best with their budget that they can. Sure, the royal carriage is made out of cardboard and the 'cat transformation' consists of flash cuts back and forth between Walken and a still image of a cat.

Now you see 'im...

...now ya don't. (Except for the shoulder poking past the inferior matte.)


And they couldn't get Sean, but they got A Connery (his son, Jason, who's no great shakes).

His father is famous for appearing in Cannon's SWORD OF THE VALIANT.

But the film's crowning, blunderous achievement is Carmela Marner as Princess Vera.

She is the worst. Forget critiquing the nuances of her performance- I don't even think she's off book! She makes 'Lisa' in THE ROOM look absolutely vivacious. In all, the mushy, wet powdered wigs of one particular scene make a great metaphor for this movietale as a whole... which I clearly still recommend!

-Sean Gill

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Broadway After Dark on PRINCES OF DARKNESS

Though the run is over, more reviews keep coming in. Broadway After Dark weighs in on the show HERE. Of yours truly, they say "Sean Gill's sound design is excellent."

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Film Review: 99 AND 44/100% DEAD (1974, John Frankenheimer)

Stars: 4.2 of 5.
Running Time: 98 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Richard Harris (RED DESERT, UNFORGIVEN, ORCA), Chuck Connors (THE RIFLEMAN, TOURIST TRAP), Bradford Dillman (THE AMSTERDAM KILL, THE ENFORCER), Edmond O' Brien (SEVEN DAYS IN MAY, THE WILD BUNCH), Ann Turkel (HUMANOIDS FROM THE DEEP, DEEP SPACE), Tony Brubaker (FRIDAY FOSTER, famed stuntman for everyone from Jim Brown in THE RUNNING MAN to Carl Weathers in PREDATOR and ACTION JACKSON), Zooey Hall (HIT!, THE WORLD'S GREATEST LOVER). Music by Henry Mancini (THE PINK PANTHER, CHARADE, LIFEFORCE). Written by Robert Dillon (PRIME CUT, FLIGHT OF THE INTRUDER, 13 FRIGHTENED GIRLS, FRENCH CONNECTION II).
Tag-lines: "Everyone is dying to meet Harry Crown."
Best one-liner: "That suit- you look like a white popsicle."

99 AND 44/100% DEAD. A purity of death. A standard by which we become hardened, brutalized, and numb. Under the watch of a tattered American flag, this film's cyclical violence begins and ends with a macabre underwater graveyard which pendulates between looking genuinely macabre and looking like some outtake from THE GOONIES (or PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN?).


"Losers, all of them losers..." pontificates Richard Harris' stone-cold killer, Harry Crown. And are they losers because of the precise longitude and latitude of where they've ended up? Losers because of the anonymous, ignoble manner in which they've died? Or losers because we're all fated to be, just as soon as we embrace that extra 56/100 of a percent? "A cigar doesn't care who smokes it," riffs Harris. Just as a corpse doesn't care when a fish gobbles up its eyeballs?

Showing as a part of this year's 'William Lustig Presents' festival at the Anthology Film Archives, John Frankenheimer's 99 AND 44/100% DEAD is a much maligned film, and one that hardly sees the light of day outside of $100 VHS sales and oddball repertory screenings.


It's truly an oddity in form and substance, from the Roy Lichtenstein-style credits to Henry Mancini's "whistlin' honkeytonk meets cool driving horns" score to its crimewave-war zone/ Anywhere City, U.S.A. setting to its cartoonishly nihilistic viewpoint to its off-kilter melodrama– this movie is a runaway train, and its final destination is clearly cult movie greatness. It's THE STONE KILLER meeting YOJIMBO in a DICK TRACY comic strip.

A car soars off of a pier, and, before splashing into the bay, spectacularly explodes.


There're giant alligators in the sewers. A man accidentally leaps down an open elevator shaft. A bomb is set off by an errant fly.

BZZ

A man runs at a car, about to fling a bundle of dynamite straight out of a Wile E. Coyote cartoon. The car revs its engine, and proceeds to semi-comically chase the man down a sidewalk.


A peculiar, artsy, inflatable naked woman serves as a meeting place for two couples who exchange stilted, deadly serious dialogue worthy of a sad sack Harlequin romance.


Ann Turkel (a late replacement for Jacqueline Bisset) is a sleazy dance hall gal, Richard Harris' main squeeze (they married in real life), and a third grade teacher who drives a school bus in a ridiculous chase that is probably the second best school bus chase scene of the 1970's (after DIRTY HARRY).


Richard Harris is a brutal, nonchalant, disdainful, cigar-smokin' individual who strolls away casually from explosions, years before it became an unbearable cliché. He offhandedly plucks the feathers from Ann Turkel's outfit as if it causes him great annoyance. He wears rockin' 70's suits and at one point what appears to be a priest's cassock. His hair appears horrifically molded into the shape of Michael Caine's in GET CARTER. Is this intentional? It's anybody's guess.


Harris' sidekick is a likable, sort of poor-man's Roman Polanski and wearer of so-called 'white popsicle suits,' played by Zooey Hall.


Finally, Chuck Connors is 'Claw Zuckerman,' the sort of man who can somehow steal a movie right from under Richard Harris.


He terrifies the men and the ladies alike, and his redunkulous set of eccentric arm attachments is worth the price of admission alone.

By the time you get to 'wine opener' and 'S&M whip,' you know you're in for something special. I've specifically outlined my love for Chuck Connors elsewhere, but this is truly a remarkable role for him- equal parts proto-Willem Dafoe and Bond villain- and you kinda wish he had more screen time.

The legendary Chuck Connors WILL SNIP YOU IN DA NUTS

And I've neglected to mention that there's no ambient sound– and the Foley guys had a field day. Great swaths of silence are punctuated by the deafening snaps of Richard Harris' eyeglasses being unfolded.

At first, this is puzzling. The dialogue is tinny and most of the sounds are ear-splitting, jarring, and metallic– a train screaming down some rusty tracks, a car's squealing tires as it turns a corner, or the impossibly long ricochets of a bullet volley. When Turkel helms the schoolbus, we're entreated to the most down n' dirty, screeching, unpleasant sounding car chase ever mixed. But it's a particular choice, this distressing aural aesthetic- it's as if Frankenheimer outsourced it to the Looney Tunes' own ACME corporation! (And, in fact, a "Sound by ACME" credit would have really made my day.) But you adjust to it. You hear the deafening snap of Harris' glasses and, perhaps like Pavlov's dogs would've- you ready yourself for the rain of bullets that will follow!

One of the most curious crime films to emerge from Hollywood in the 1970's, 99 AND 44/100% DEAD certainly has more in common with a bizarro Seijun Suzuki flick (BRANDED TO KILL or YOUTH OF THE BEAST), than the high-profile crime sagas which were sweeping up the mainstream accolades (like THE FRENCH CONNECTION or THE GODFATHER). And in the end, I can only choose to embrace its rich strangeness and screwy élan. A little over four stars.

-Sean Gill

Junta Juleil's Summer '10 Movie Series
1. HELL IN THE PACIFIC (1968, John Boorman)
2. KUFFS (1992, Bruce A. Evans)
3. THE OUTFIT (1973, John Flynn)

4. FOR Y'UR HEIGHT ONLY (1981, Eddie Nicart)

5. A*P*E (1976, Paul Leder)

6. BLIND FURY (1989, Philip Noyce)
7. HIS KIND OF WOMAN (1951, John Farrow)
8. HIGH SCHOOL U.S.A. (1983, Rod Amateau)
9. DR. JEKYLL AND MS. HYDE (1995, David Price)
10. MIDNIGHT IN THE GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL (1997, Clint Eastwood)
11. 1990: BRONX WARRIORS (1982, Enzo G. Castellari)
12. FALLING DOWN (1993, Joel Schumacher)
13. TOURIST TRAP (1979, David Schmoeller)
14. THE THREE MUSKETEERS (1973, Richard Lester)
15. BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA (1986, John Carpenter)
16. TOP GUN (1986, Tony Scott)
17. 48 HRS. (1982, Walter Hill)
18. ONCE UPON A TIME IN MEXICO (2003, Robert Rodriguez)
19. TALES OF THE CITY (1993, Alastair Reid)
20. WHITE LINE FEVER (1975, Jonathan Kaplan)
21. 99 AND 44/100% DEAD (1974, John Frankenheimer)
22. ...

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Film Review: WHITE LINE FEVER (1975, Jonathan Kaplan)

Stars: 4.75 of 5.
Running Time: 90 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Directed by Jonathan Kaplan (TRUCK TURNER, BAD GIRLS, PROJECT X, BROKEDOWN PALACE, 40 episodes of ER). Written by Kaplan and Ken Friedman (JOHNNY HANDSOME, HEART LIKE A WHEEL). Starring Jan-Michael Vincent (AIRWOLF, HOOPER, THE MECHANIC, John Flynn's DEFIANCE), Kay Lenz (AMERICAN GRAFFITI, BIG WEDNESDAY, HOUSE), L.Q. Jones (THE WILD BUNCH, CASINO, BULLETPROOF), Dick Miller (BUCKET OF BLOOD, GREMLINS, EXPLORERS), Slim Pickens (DR. STRANGELOVE, POOR PRETTY EDDIE), R.G. Armstrong (PREDATOR, BULLETPROOF, CHILDREN OF THE CORN, THE FUGITIVE KIND), Sam Laws (TRUCK TURNER, WALKING TALL, THE FURY), Don Porter (YOUNGBLOOD HAWKE, THE RACKET), Leigh French (HALLOWEEN II, TALK RADIO). Music by David Nichtern (THE BIG PICTURE, THE SPIRIT OF '76). Costumes by Lambert Marks (MURDER SHE WROTE, THE MECHANIC, CATCH-22).
Tag-line: "Carrol Jo Hummer--A working man who's had enough!"
Best one-liner: "Don't sass me, you little sonofabitch!"
I had the pleasure of seeing this a few nights ago at the Anthology Film Archives' annual festival, "William Lustig Presents." Many reviews on this site, and indeed many of my favorite movies have been featured at Lustig's series– from ROLLING THUNDER to THE OUTFIT to THE STONE KILLER to DARK OF THE SUN. I urge anyone in the New York area to check out some of these flicks on the big screen- and you just might spot, wandering in and out of the screenings, that steadfast, jovial icon of gritty NYC and true soldier of cinema, Bill Lustig himself! This review shall take the form of a conversation in a squalid Alphabet City alleyway, populated by smoking piles of trash and busted-up, empty cans of Schlitz (and possibly continued from HERE):

"Psssst. Hey bud- you get a kick out those Weng Wengs I hooked you up with?"
–"Yeh, they sure did the trick. I still need to digest 'em. How'd you get your hands on 'em?"
"I got myself a French connection."
–"Oh, yeah? Well, whaddya got today?"
"Trucker movies, my friend. Rare trucker movies. Perfect for those hot summer evenings of chirping crickets and ice cold tall-boys."
–"You got TRUCKIN' BUDDY MCCOY?"
"Sadly, no. But I'll do you one better: WHITE LINE FEVER."

–"Keep talkin'."
"We got a 'docudrama'-style opening. A trucker being interviewed for the local news. Says he's beholden to the banks and the freight companies. Says he carries a gun in case they try and take his truck. Says 'You never know until you're put to the test.' Wise words... and you'd do well to keep 'em in mind. Next up- I love these 70's movies- we got a montage and family album style opening credits sequence. We get all the exposition we need in about a minute and a haff. Soldier boy Jan-Michael Vincent (as Carrol Jo Hummer) comes home to his sweetie-pie, Kay Lenz (as the newly minted Mrs. Jerri Kane Hummer). They're just tryin' to eke out a livin'. Carrol Jo picks up a rig named the "Blue Mule" (for kickin' ass, that is) and Jerri picks up some mind-numbin' employment at the Dr. Pepper factory. It's marital bliss for the 5 or so minutes before Carrol Jo is asked to sacrifice his principles by his handlers."
–"So what happens? Does he give in?"
"Hell, no, he doesn't give in, you shitheel! And damn you for thinkin' that he would. He mounts a fierce fuckin' crusade against the powers that be, from the crooked financiers to the low-down freight-haulers to the corrupt cops and evil shit-brickin' bastards. Some would call this a fool's errand, but if everybody kowtowed and bent over for The Man, we wouldn't have any of the finest films of the 1970's."
–"How's the cast?"
"'How's the cast?' How do you think the cast is?!- the cast is fuckin' great. Jan-Michael Vincent was one of the most promising actors of the decade- THE MECHANIC, BIG WEDNESDAY, DEFIANCE, HOOPER- you name it.

He's a likable presence, and you completely believe that he's the kind of guy who'd hang offa his rig with a shotgun, blastin' away for his God-given right to haul clean, honest cargo.


Then, Kay Lenz is cute as a button, and with a lot more fire. I mean, she was BREEZY for chrissakes- that's the title character in a Clint Eastwood movie!

Kay and Jan discuss family planning.

Then we got Dick Miller, playin' a trucker named 'Birdie Corman.' Did I mention that Kaplan was a Corman/Dante crony? Dante even gets his name dropped- a shipping executive is told that he has an upcoming appointment with a 'Mr. Joe Dante.' Anywho, Miller is great. He's wearin' an open plaid shirt that's so fuckin' big, it looks like a robe. He gets some borderline action scenes, and gets to flash that terrific head-shake/bemused smile look which says 'Damn, that kid's got guts!'
And did I mention Slim Pickens? When he first appears, he's wearing a bolo tie the size'a my fist and some flower-embroidered county western duds that'd make Merle Haggard blush.

He shouts "Well, bless my ass, Carrol Jo!" and immediately tosses him a can of Schlitz from his mini-fridge in his wood-paneled prefab office."
–"This sounds like my kinda flick!"
"Shut it! I ain't done! ...So Slim works as an intermediary between The Establishment and the truckin' buddies. Carrol Jo is a sort of monkey wrench in the works. Before Slim can say "Don't sass me, you little sonofabitch!," they're on opposin' sides of this struggle. But Slim might just have a conscience under that 10-gallon hat after all..."
–"Who else is in it?"
"Don't interrupt- I'm not finished with Slim yet. He gets a great scene where he's speeding down the highway, feeding his secretary-love connection chocolates from a junky drug-store's assortment. It's this kinda stuff that's worth the ticket price alone."
–"So how about–"
"Then we got L.Q. Jones. He's higher up on the chain than Slim. He was one of Peckinpah's favorites, and goddamn there was a reason for that. Here, he's an evil country shitball with a soul patch and a comb-over who lasciviously eyeballs his female employees like there's no tomorrow- and there might be no tomorrow if Carrol Jo catches up with 'im!"
–"Well you've certainly convinced me about the cast. But why do you hold it in such high regard?"
"Alright, listen. This movie was built, brick by brick, from real workin' peoples problems, frustrations, fears, and dreams. This is not some silly Americana shit, made by studio hacks who never really worked a day in their life. This is the genuine article.

Note the obelisks of Schlitz at the left.

The lifeblood is foamy Schlitz and Wild Turkey by the gallon. It's adorned with turquoise jewelry and peppered with more reaction shots than you can shake a stick at. It's dejected women sitting in an abortion clinic, staring at a poster that says 'Love is a fourteen-letter word: Familyplanning.' It's hot asphalt and stale, flavorless gum. It's truckin' stunts and men versus forklifts. It's men and women who are sick of bangin' their heads against the wall while some blubbery fuck in a plush office is gettin' rich offa it.

Plus it's got music that's kind of the unlikely love-child of the scores from DELIVERANCE and TRUCK TURNER."
–"Sold."
"En-joy. Make sure you got enough beers before ya start it, though."
–"Will do."
"And none'a them prissy beers."
–"Alright."
"You know what I'm talkin' about."
–"I do."
"Not even Coors. Coors might be too prissy for this movie."
–"I'll keep it in mind."
"In fact, Schlitz is probably best."
–"I figured."
"Or Lone Star. Lone Star would be okay, too."


-Sean Gill

Junta Juleil's Summer '10 Movie Series
1. HELL IN THE PACIFIC (1968, John Boorman)
2. KUFFS (1992, Bruce A. Evans)
3. THE OUTFIT (1973, John Flynn)

4. FOR Y'UR HEIGHT ONLY (1981, Eddie Nicart)

5. A*P*E (1976, Paul Leder)

6. BLIND FURY (1989, Philip Noyce)
7. HIS KIND OF WOMAN (1951, John Farrow)
8. HIGH SCHOOL U.S.A. (1983, Rod Amateau)
9. DR. JEKYLL AND MS. HYDE (1995, David Price)
10. MIDNIGHT IN THE GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL (1997, Clint Eastwood)
11. 1990: BRONX WARRIORS (1982, Enzo G. Castellari)
12. FALLING DOWN (1993, Joel Schumacher)
13. TOURIST TRAP (1979, David Schmoeller)
14. THE THREE MUSKETEERS (1973, Richard Lester)
15. BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA (1986, John Carpenter)
16. TOP GUN (1986, Tony Scott)
17. 48 HRS. (1982, Walter Hill)
18. ONCE UPON A TIME IN MEXICO (2003, Robert Rodriguez)
19. TALES OF THE CITY (1993, Alastair Reid)
20. WHITE LINE FEVER (1975, Jonathan Kaplan)
21. ...

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Film Review: BEAT GIRL (1959, Edmond T. Gréville)

Stars: 2.5 of 5.
Running Time: 99 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: David Farrar (BLACK NARCISSUS, THE 300 SPARTANS), Noëlle Adam (WOMAN IN CHAINS, CRAZY IN THE NOODLE), Christopher Lee (Hammer's DRACULA series, THE WICKER MAN, THE THREE MUSKETEERS), Gillian Hills (BLOW-UP, THE KILLER WORE GLOVES), Oliver Reed (THE DEVILS, TOMMY), Peter McEnery (VICTIM, RASPUTIN). Music by John Barry (GOLDFINGER, BODY HEAT, HOWARD THE DUCK).
Tag-lines: "My Mother was a stripper...I want to be a stripper too!"
Best one-liner: "Next week - boom! - the world goes up in smoke. And what's the score? Zero!"
AKA: WILD FOR KICKS

To say that BEAT GIRL is a good movie would be a lie. BEAT GIRL is not a good movie. And it's the sort of 'not good' movie that connoisseurs of the 'Something Weird' catalog will be all too familiar with: tedious pseudo-exploitation. But by and large, these films are bringing something to the table amidst the intolerable line-readings and murky film-to-VHS-to-DVD transfers. Allow me to explain:

Ostensibly successful architect Paul Linden (David Farrar) returns from France having snared a young wife Nichole (Noëlle Adam), much to the chagrin of his daughter Jennifer (Gillian Hills).

Paul's dream apparently is to possess this chippy wife and build some monstrous concrete complex called 'CITY 2000,' where everything is quiet, and you can feel like you're alone even in the midst of the teeming masses, if you can dig that.

His darling daughter Jennifer thinks that noise is strictly for squares and she hangs with a rough n' tumble crowd of beatnik boppers. She won't give Nichole the time of day till she learns that she used to be...a stripper! Drawn to and repulsed by the curious world of insalubrious adult sexuality (represented aptly by oily club owner Christopher Lee!), one thing leads to another, and- as they were wont to say in the 50's- sex, sin, and shame rear their ugly heads.

CHRISTOPHER LEE WILL PUT THE MOVES ON YOU...


...AND NOW 66.66% OF THIS FAMILY ARE STRIPPERS.

Now let's talk about the acting here for a minute. Aside from Christopher Lee (and a surprise guest star I'll discuss in a moment), it is absolutely contemptible. We're talkin' lifeless, D.O.A. line readings- and lots of 'em. Characterization? What is that? We are talkin' dullsville, Daddy-o.

Most of it emanates from our two blonde-coiffed leads- a couple of bargain-basement, gutter Bardots who are so scuzzy, they'd make Loni Anderson look like Grace Kelly. What's up with this unrighteous jive, BEAT GIRL?

"I served with Loni Anderson, I knew Loni Anderson, Loni Anderson was a friend of mine, and Burt's and Dom's. Baby, you are no Loni Anderson."

But the men are by no means getting off the hook here– take a gander at this Elvis-impersonatin' tuff guy:

I propose that even from this solitary freeze frame, you can imagine what discordant anti-musical sufferings accompany this boy and his guitar within the context of the film.

I was nearly ready to agitate some gravel when a schweet bar scene comes on. Now this was made back in a time where if a bar was called 'The Grotto,' it was a fucking grotto- a goddamned cave! Now, what's that music?... Dig them killer-diller riffs and groovy licks! Those cats are in orbit! Well, razz my berries- that's the 'John Barry Seven' with some thick, dissonant, radioactive vibes! I'll just guzzle some foam, kick back and rel– WAIT, WHUTTT? Who is that young, plaid-shirt-wearing cad dancing AT our feeble heroine?

It's young Ollie Reed!!! Sure, he's credited as 'Plaid Shirt' and he only gets a line or two, but he is takin' it for all it's worth. And...uh... I'm pretty sure he's inebriated (which ought to go without saying). He begins the scene rip-roarin' drunk and dancin' up a storm. As it progresses we see him go from merry to soused to shitfaced to just plain wasted:

Keep fighting the good fight, Mr. Reed. We'll never forget you... Plaid Shirt.

And speaking of lackluster character names, the unfortunate Anthony Singleton is billed as 'Green Pants'- an especially demeaning moniker given that this is a black and white film. Best of luck in the future, Mr. Singleton- I'd honor you with a freeze frame if I had any idea which character you played.

So, in the end, BEAT GIRL proves itself occasionally capable of holding one's attention. I suppose I could talk about the beat movement, social mores, counterculture trends, and the like, but I must admit the film has me feeling a bit like this drummer: capped, dragged, and beat.


-Sean Gill

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