“Don’t Let the Bastards Get You Down!”

by Kimberly Lindbergs | November 17, 2011

Categories | Movie Reviews, Actors, British Cinema, Karel Reisz, Tony Richardson

I recently got the opportunity to discuss the work of British screenwriter and novelist, Alan Sillitoe with members of The Alan Sillitoe Committee, including Alan’s son David. The name might not be familiar to many film fans but Alan Sillitoe is responsible for writing SATURDAY NIGHT AND SUNDAY MORNING (Karel Reisz; 1961) and THE LONELINESS OF THE LONG DISTANCE RUNNER (Tony Richardson; 1962). He gave a voice to Britain’s “angry young men” and helped define a generation.

Both SATURDAY NIGHT AND SUNDAY MORNING and THE LONELINESS OF THE LONG DISTANCE RUNNER are films that are near and dear to my heart and undoubtedly two of the best films to emerge from the British New Wave in the ’60s. I’ve briefly mentioned both movies on numerous occasions but I haven’t given them as much attention as I’d like. SATURDAY NIGHT AND SUNDAY MORNING will be airing on TCM this Saturday (Nov. 19th) so I thought it would be a good time to rectify my negligence. You can find my interview with members of The Alan Sillitoe Committee at the Movie Morlocks and I thought I’d share some of my thoughts about the film here.

In SATURDAY NIGHT AND SUNDAY MORNING, Albert Finney made his incredible screen debut as a young man by the name of Arthur Seaton. Arthur is a working-class lad raised in Nottingham who lives with his parents. He has a dead-end factory job that pays the bills but it leaves little room for much else. He spends the work week looking forward to his Saturday nights and Sunday mornings. During these weekend breaks Arthur fishes with friends, drinks himself into a stupor and seduces any willing lady that catches his eye. When he clashes with his boss and is accused of being a ‘red’ (communist) or gets beaten up for sleeping with a married woman, Arthur doesn’t let it faze him and lives by the motto, “Don’t let the bastards get you down!” while making it known that, “I’m out for a good time - all the rest is propaganda!” Arthur is much too smart and much too curious to be satisfied with the life his parents have accepted. Unfortunately his rough existence has made him a little mean and he doesn’t suffer fools lightly. But underneath all that false bravado is an angry young man with a volcanic size chip on his shoulder that could explode at any moment. Despite the underlying tension that filters through every frame of SATURDAY NIGHT AND SUNDAY MORNING, the film seems to end on a somewhat upbeat note with Arthur denouncing his parents (”They have a TV set and a packet of fags, but they’re both dead from the neck up.”) and realizing that he’s his own man, able to make his own way in the world, even if that world seems determined to hold him back.

“And trouble for me it’ll be, fighting every day until I die. Why do they make soldiers out of us when we’re fighting up to the hilt as it is? Fighting with mothers and wives, landlords and gaffers, coppers, army, government… Well, it’s a good life and a good world, all said and done, if you don’t weaken, and if you know that the big wide world hasn’t heard from you yet, no, not by a long way, though it won’t be long now.”
- Arthur Seaton from Alan Sillitoe’s ‘Saturday Night and Sunday Morning’

Watching SATURDAY NIGHT AND SUNDAY MORNING again recently, I was reminded of how poignant and powerful the film’s underlying message still was. Few films address the concerns of young working-class people so directly and so well. As I said earlier, it’s one of the most important movies that emerged from the British New Wave and it features a literal ‘who’s-who’ of British cinema at the time including the fabulous Albert Finney, as young Arthur. Finney swaggers through the film like a beautiful bulldog always keenly aware of everything going on around him. The film made Finney a star and it’s easy to see why. He’s a handsome man but it’s more than just looks that make young Finney so irresistible. He’s truly committed to the role of Arthur Seaton and he was able to harness the kind of rough and tumble working-class spirit that is so hard to find in today’s young actors. He’s a genuine tough guy and you don’t want to mess with him but he’s just soft enough to win a woman’s heart.

SATURDAY NIGHT AND SUNDAY MORNING was directed by Karel Reiz who brought a real authenticity to the film. Reiz was part of the British Free Cinema movement and his documentary background gave him the ability to truly capture the Nottingham local. He gave the film a real sense of place and purpose. The celebrated cinematographer Freddie Francis also helped shape the look of the film and there are some truly beautiful scenes that showcase Albert Finney and his costars (including award-winning actress Rachel Roberts and Shirley Anne Field) in the most flattering light imaginable. These lush moments can occasionally take you out of the film but Reiz and Francis quickly return you to the gritty streets of Nottingham. SATURDAY NIGHT AND SUNDAY MORNING was also edited by Seth Holt (THE NANNY) and produced by Tony Richardson (THE LONELINESS OF THE LONG DISTANCE RUNNER) along with Harry Saltzman (LOOK BACK IN ANGER). And last but not least, it features an amazing jazz riddled score by John Dankworth (THE SERVANT).

If you’d like to learn more about this terrific film please follow the link to the Movie Morlocks. It will take you to my interview with members of The Alan Sillitoe Committe where we discuss Sillitoe’s work in film.
- “Don’t Let the Bastards Get You Down!” @ TCM’s Classic Movie Blog

I also wanted to give a special shout-out to fellow film blogger and Alan Sillitoe Committee member Neil Fulwood who agreed to answer questions and went out of his way to contact Alan’s son David. Cheers, Neil! Please stop by his terrific film blog, The Agitation of the Mind and tell him I sent ya.

Comments Off

New John Dankworth Compilation

by Kimberly Lindbergs | August 12, 2009

Categories | News, Soundtracks, Composers, British Cinema, Dirk Bogarde, Joseph Losey, Julie Christie, Laurence Harvey, Karel Reisz

Laurence Harvey, Julie Christie & Dirk Bogarde in Darling (1965)

During the recent Dirk Bogarde movie marathon on TCM I ended up watching John Schlesinger’s Darling (1965) again which stars Dirk Bogarde along with the wonderful Julie Christie and jaw-droppingly gorgeous Laurence Harvey. I’ve seen the film many times before but I love all three of the film’s stars so I never get tired of watching it. Besides the actors and Schlesinger’s impressive direction, another reason that I find Darling incredibly watchable is the film’s great score by British composer John (aka Johnny) Dankworth. Dankworth was an amazing talent and he’s responsible for composing the soundtracks for some of my favorite British films of the ’60s. He also created music for terrific television shows like the original Avengers.

After watching Darling again I decided to try and hunt down a copy of the film’s soundtrack online. Unfortunately I had no luck, but I did discover that a new John Dankworth compliation CD has just been released called Let’s Slip Away - Film and TV 1960-1973.

Let’s Slip Away is the first CD compilation of John Danworth’s scores so if you’re a fan of his music you’ll definitely want to get yourself a copy. This impressive 2 CD set from Eclipse in the UK features over 40 music tracks and includes theme music from Darling as well as Saturday Night and Sunday Morning (Karel Reisz; 1960), The Servant (Joseph Losey; 1963), Morgan: A Suitable Case For Treatment (Karel Reisz; 1966), Modesty Blaise (Joseph Losey; 1966) and Accident (Jospeh Losey; 1967). The collection also includes extensive notes by Workers Playtime DJ Martin Green.

The official Eclipse site calls Let’s Slip Away “Beautifully cool jazz-pop from the days before Johnny started calling himself John and getting all serious on your ass.”

Sounds good to me!

The CD collection was released earlier this month and you can currently find new copies at Amazon selling for about $18.75, but there seems to be a glaring error on the website that also lists the CD for $170. Ignore that ridiculous price! If you can’t get new copies of the CD at Amazon I highly recommend picking up a copy at my favorite online soundtrack shop Movie Grooves.

Comments (3)

Seth Holt’s The Nanny (1965)

by Kimberly Lindbergs | April 17, 2008

Categories | Movie Reviews, British Cinema, Hammer Horror, DVD of the Week, Pamela Franklin, Thrillers, Bette Davis, Seth Holt, Karel Reisz

Evil nannies that are determined to harm the innocent children they care for have become a popular recurring menace in many horror films over the years and last week one of the best nasty nanny movies was finally released on DVD for the first time.

I originally saw Seth Holt’s chilling British thriller The Nanny (1965) when I was just a kid and it terrified me. I haven’t seen the film in its entirety in many years so I was afraid it wouldn’t live up to my fond memories of first watching it but The Nanny managed to exceed my expectations. The great thrillers Hammer produced during the sixties and seventies are often overlooked by critics since they don’t contain vampires, werewolves or any mad doctors but many of them are just as good or better than many of the monster movies the studio made. Great Hammer thrillers such as Freddie Francis’ Paranoiac (1963) and Peter Collinson’s Straight on Till Morning (1972) are some of my favorite Hammer films and The Nanny is another one of the studio’s best and most unusual efforts.

The film stars the late great actress Bette Davis whose 100th birthday was recently celebrated by 20th Century Fox with a wonderful DVD set titled Bette Davis Centenary Celebration Collection, which includes The Nanny as well as four other Davis films. Bette Davis isn’t a name that most film fans associate with Hammer Studios but the actress made two films for Hammer during the sixties. The first one was The Nanny, which she starred in after filming two successful gothic thrillers in Hollywood (What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? and Hush… Hush, Sweet Charlotte) and afterward she appeared in Hammer’s black comedy The Anniversary (1968), which was directed by the talented Roy Ward Baker.

In The Nanny Bette Davis gives one of her most remarkable and nuanced performances as a dutiful servant of an upper class British family who has spent her entire life caring for the children of wealthy individuals and neglecting herself. As the film opens we discover that the family Davis’ character currently works for has lost their little girl in a horrible accident. They blame their precocious 10-year old son Joey (William Dix) for her accidental drowning and they’re struggling to deal with his eminent return home after the boy has spent two years away at a juvenile psychiatric facility for disturbed children. When Joey’s father (James Villiers) and the nanny arrive at the school to take Joey home, the audience is introduced to the boy in a beautifully shot but rather disturbing scene that’s reminiscent of Bud Cort’s mock suicide in the unforgettable opening of Harold and Maude made six years later. Joey’s dark sense of humor is clearly troubling to the adults around him and it might seem strange that a 10-year-old would be preoccupied with death. But when a child comes face to face with mortality at an early age it’s not unusual for them to feel the urge to act out in various ways. Before the boy leaves the school a doctor tells Joey’s father that he has developed a strange aversion to middle-aged females and on the ride home Joey makes it clear that he doesn’t like or trust his middle-aged nanny. Since the nanny is played brilliantly by Bette Davis it’s not hard to understand why she might make the boy uncomfortable.

Davis was an unsettling presence in horror films in the sixties and she easily generates a kind of dread and sense of unease when she’s on screen. With a simple raise of her thick arched eyebrow she can send chills down your spine. Young Joey is so frightened by her that he immediately moves into a room with a window near a fire escape so he can quickly get in an out of his family’s luxurious apartment if the need arises. He also refuses to eat the food that his nanny prepares for him and he won’t take a bath until his mother (Wendy Craig) makes the nanny promise to stay out of the bathroom. His gruff father and emotionally unstable mother become increasingly frustrated by their son’s behavior and wonder if they should have kept him locked up. The nanny seems to come to the boy’s defense at first but as the film unfolds she also turns on Joey and the audience is left to wonder who is to blame for the boy’s seemingly erratic behavior. Is the boy’s paranoia justified? Or should the family have kept little Joey locked away forever?

(WARNING: Spoilers ahead!)

After Joey’s father is forced to leave home on business, the boy is left alone with his mother and nanny who have clearly developed an odd sort of codependent relationship over the years. The nanny has been with the family for a very long time and also took care of Joey’s mother when she was a young girl. Joey’s mother is played wonderfully by the British actress Wendy Craig and it’s hard not to sympathize with her since she’s clearly suffering a deep depression following the unexpected death of her young daughter. As the perfect upper class family life she has long imagined for herself begins to unravel all around her, she regresses to a child-like state herself and the nanny is forced to brush her hair and even feed her. When she suddenly falls ill due to food poisoning and must be taken to the hospital, all fingers point to Joey as being the culprit but Joey blames the nanny. He later confesses to his cute teenage neighbor (Pamela Franklin) that he believes the nanny also killed his sister and is now trying to kill him as well. Joey’s accusations are hard to ignore and it’s not much of a surprise when the audience discovers that the nanny is the real source of horror in the film even if a few minor red herrings attempt to focus the audiences attention on the troubled young boy.

What is surprising is the incredibly creative way director Seth Holt chose to shot the film and his wonderful use of flashbacks to show the events as they originally happened. The director also creates some truly terrifying moments in the movie such as when Joey’s aunt (Jill Bennett) who suffers from a terrible heart condition spots Davis standing next to the boy’s bedroom door with a pillow in her hand. Dear old nanny intends to suffocate the child in his sleep but she sweetly tells Joey’s aunt that she is only trying to make the boy more comfortable by bringing him another pillow.

Bette Davis is really remarkable in The Nanny and her understated performance in the film often stands out in stark contrast to her other popular roles in horror films from the same period. Even though the relationship between director Seth Holt and Bette Davis was problematic on the set by all accounts, Davis did manage to follow the director’s recommendation to play the role extremely low-key and internalize aspects of her character that could have easily boiled over the top and found their way onto the screen. The young actor William Dix is also extremely good as Joey. I’m personally very critical of child actors and I often find them too mannered and unbelievable in their roles. But young Dix brings a realism to his role as Joey in The Nanny that is really remarkable at times and he seems to understand his character in ways that would completely escape many experienced adult actors.

The film’s script was written by Hammer luminary Jimmy Sangster and based on a book by author Marryam Modell (using the pseudonym Evelyn Piper) who also wrote Bunny Lake Is Missing, which was adapted into another terrific film by Otto Preminger the same year. The Nanny and Bunny Lake is Missing share somewhat similar themes. Both stories feature children in peril and in order to save them someone must try and convince disbelieving authority figures that a child is in danger or being harmed. I don’t know if Marryam Modell had any experience with child abuse herself, but there is an underlying attitude in both of her stories that suggests she might have.

The talented director Seth Holt began his career co-directing and editing films for Britain’s Ealing Studios, including the wonderful 1945 horror anthology Dead of Night. Holt is mostly known for the entertaining thrillers he made with Hammer Studios and his name rarely comes up when critics are talking about the British New Wave and various kitchen sink dramas but it should. Holt’s first film is a remarkable crime drama called Nowhere to Go that was co-written by Kenneth Tynan who helped usher in the era of “angry young men” as an important theater critic. Nowhere to Go is a stylish modern crime film with a great jazz score by Dizzy Reece and a bleak ending that’s somewhat reminiscent of Godard’s Breathless (1960). It’s an important film in the evolution of British cinema but it’s often overlooked and deserves a wider audience. Seth Holt was also responsible for the impressive editing work in Karel Reisz’s seminal British film Saturday Night and Sunday Morning (1960).

While watching The Nanny I was extremely impressed with the way Holt managed to subtly weave important themes found within the best films of the British New Wave such as the effects of poverty, class divides and youth rebellion into a Hammer horror film. Even though The Nanny could be viewed as a simple thriller about a tormented and troubled child being pursued by a psychotic nanny, underlying that is the complicated background of the nanny herself who was forced into a life of servitude do to her status and background. Her position in life has dire consequences for her own family as well as those she works for. During the film the audience is given the opportunity to sympathize with Davis’ character who is obviously deeply disturbed. This is an incredibly adult and modern approach to take in any horror film about a potential child killer even by today’s standards.

In an unforgettable scene that takes place in a poor British neighborhood clearly suffering from economic and social conditions that plague the lower classes; Bette Davis is forced to confront her past and the death of her own daughter due to a horribly botched back-alley abortion and we watch her quietly fall apart. Unlike the wealthy mother of Joey who lost her own daughter and now relies on the nanny to groom her and feed her, Davis’ character has no one but herself to rely on. In her pain she turns inward and clearly doesn’t like what she finds there. In her psychotic state she ends up cruelly lashing out at the most vulnerable thing she can, an innocent, wealthy, sheltered and pampered little child that she’s been forced to care for who will never know the kind of economic disparity that she’s been struggling with her entire life.

Davis’ last Oscar nomination was for her role in What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? and it’s often considered her greatest role of the sixties, but in my opinion her greatest achievement as an actress during that decade might be found in The Nanny.

As I mentioned above, The Nanny is available on DVD as part of the 20th Century Fox Bette Davis Centenary Celebration Collection, which is now selling at Amazon or you can purchase The Nanny individually. The film has been beautifully restored by 20th Century Fox and it really looks terrific. The DVD also comes with some nice extras such as poster, stills and lobby card galleries, TV spots, the original trailer and restoration comparisons. The Nanny should also be available for rent online at Greencine and Netflix. If you’d like to see more images from the film please see my Flickr Gallery for The Nanny.

Comments (16)

Favorite DVD Releases of 2007: Part III.

by Kimberly Lindbergs | February 16, 2008

Categories | Movie Reviews, Favorite 2007 DVDs, Malcolm McDowell, Delphine Seyrig, Orson Welles, Karel Reisz

Favorite DVD Releases of 2007: Part III. - Top 30 DVDs #11-20.

John Savage in The Killing Kind (1973)

The Killing Kind (Dark Sky Films)
Please see my brief look at this Curtis Harrington film HERE.

Latitude Zero (1969)

Latitude Zero (Dub Sub) (Media Blasters)
Please see my review of Ishiro Honda’s Latitude Zero HERE.

Legends of the Poisonous Seductress #1: Female Demon Ohyaku (1969)

Legends of the Poisonous Seductress #1: Female Demon Ohyaku (Synapse Films / Ryko)
Legends of the Poisonous Seductress #1: Female Demon Ohyaku (Yoen Dokufuden Hannya no Ohyaku, 1968) is the first film in a trilogy of pinky violence films released by Synapse / Ryko. I haven’t had the opportunity to see the other two films in this series yet, but Female Demon Ohyaku is an incredibly effective revenge tale featuring some bold black and white cinematography by Nagaki Yamagishi and impressive direction by Yoshihiro Ishikawa. The film stars the lovely Junko Miyazono as Ohyaku Dayu and she’s very good here as a young tightrope walker who falls in love with a handsome thief (Kunio Murai). After the two are involved in a failed plan to steal money from the local government, Ohyaku Dayu is tortured and her lover is brutally killed, so she vows revenge on his murderers. Legends of the Poisonous Seductress #1: Female Demon Ohyaku is one of the earliest examples of the pinky violence genre and the film is surprisingly erotic and brutal at times. The adult nature of the movie’s themes and its period setting give Yoshihiro Ishikawa’s movie an air of gravitas that is often missing from typical pinky violence productions. The Legends of the Poisonous Seductress series was never theatrically released outside of Japan but thanks to Synapse, western viewers now have the opportunity to see these fascinating films. The DVD includes a nice looking widescreen presentation of the film with English subtitles, commentary by Chris Desjardins (aka Chris D.), trailers for all three of the Legends of the Poisonous Seductress films and liner notes written by Chris Desjardins as well.

Julia Foster and Tom Courtney in The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner (1962)

The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner (Warner Home Video)
In some ways Tony Richardson’s The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner (1962) could be viewed as a sort of older sibling of Lindsay Anderson’s If…., but Richardson’s film is a quieter movie in many ways and its power comes from the almost documentary-style direction Richardson uses while employing popular New Wave techniques such as montage and jump cuts to tell his tale. The film centers on an angry and self-destructive youth named Colin, who’s played wonderfully by the British actor Tom Courtney. Courtney may have been a few years too old for his role, but his world-weary looks only add to the effectiveness of his performance in my opinion. The film is based on a novel by Alan Sillitoe who also wrote the screenplay. Sillitoe had previously written Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, which was made into a film by Karel Reisz, and although both of Sillitoe’s novels helped give voice to Britain’s “angry young men” in the late fifties and early sixties, The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner is a very different work that has a much stronger anti-establishment message than Saturday Night and Sunday Morning. Besides Lindsay Anderson’s If…., The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner also shares a sportsmanship theme that is somewhat comparable to Anderson’s This Sporting Life, but neither of these films should be viewed as simple “sports” films. This Sporting Life and The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner use football and long distance running as mere background elements to round out their complex narratives dealing with masculine pride and male identity in Postwar Britain. I hope to write more about this wonderful film in the future, but I will add that the new Warner DVD includes a terrific looking transfer of the film that has been enhanced for widescreen displays and the original theatrical trailer. I wish Warner had included more extras with this important release as well as a commentary track, but since this is the first time the film has officially been made available on Region 1 DVD, I can’t complain too much.

Helga Line and Tony Kendall in The Loreley’s Grasp (1974)

The Loreley’s Grasp (Deimos Entertainment / BCI Eclipse)
After being disappointed by Amando de Ossorio’s The Night of the Sorcerers (1973), which was also released on DVD last year by Deimos / BCI Eclipse, my expectations were extremely low for the director’s The Loreley’s Grasp (1974) (1974). Thankfully I was pleasantly surprised by this terrific film, which is undoubtedly one of the Amando de Ossorio’s most entertaining efforts. The Loreley’s Grasp is basically a monster movie with an attractive European cast, but Amando de Ossorio’s creative direction and writing combined with the beautiful locations, groovy fashions and the unusual folktale elements in his sctory really elevated the material in my opinion. The Loreley’s Grasp is stylish and occasionally trashy fun that is well worth a look if you enjoy European horror movies as much as I do. I’m grateful that Deimos / BCI Eclipse is making an effort to release so many previously hard to see Spanish films on DVD and The Loreley’s Grasp is definitely one of their strongest releases. The newly restored widescreen transfer looks terrific and the DVD comes with some nice extras including a theatrical trailer, two audio tracks (English subtitled and dubbed), the Spanish credit sequence, still gallery, and informative liner notes by author Mirik Lipinski.

Malpertuis (1971)

Malpertuis (Barrel Entertainment)
I’ve admired Harry Kümel’s marvelous vampire film Daughters of Darkness (1971) for many years but I’ve never had the opportunity to see any of the directors other movies. Thankfully that changed this year after Barrel Entertainment released Kümel’s fascinating Malpertuis (1971) on DVD in 2007. Malpertuis is an unusual and surreal film that mixes fantasy and horror elements with Greek mythology. The cast includes the talented British actress Susan Hampshire who starred in Neither the Sea Nor the Sand (another film on my list of favorite DVDs of 2007) and the enigmatic Orson Welles, who manages to make a big impression here even though his role is rather limited. Harry Kümel’s direction might seem a little muddled at times, but I was totally enchanted by this beautiful film and it was easily one of the most interesting movies I was introduced to in 2007. The film was definitely helped by Gerry Fisher’s color photography and a wonderful Georges Delerue score. While watching Malpertuis I was reminded of Guy Green’s underrated film The Magus (1968) that appeared on my list of Favorite DVDs last year. Both films share a similar sensibility and they would make for an interesting double feature. This two-disc DVD set is loaded with noteworthy extras including two versions of the film (the director’s cut and a copy of the English language version that debuted at Cannes in 1972), a trailer, multiple featurettes including Susan Hampshire: One Actress, Three Parts and Orson Welles Uncut, which collects rare outtakes of Welles on the set of Malpertuis while the cast and crew discuss what it was like to work with him. The DVD also features Audio commentary from Harry Kümel and a lengthy interview, but unfortunately the director comes across as a rather ungrateful and bitter man with a limited sense of humor. I was more impressed by the 7-minute featurette about the surreal novelist Jean Ray that was included on the DVD and it made me eager to seek out his work. Overall this is a really remarkable release!

Jean-Baptiste Thierree in Muriel (1963)

Muriel (Koch Lorber Films)
The more I’m exposed to Alain Resnais, the more I fall in love with his work so I was thrilled that Koch Lorber decided to release the director’s award-wining film Muriel (Muriel ou Le temps d’un Retour, 1963) on DVD last year. I had never seen Muriel before but I was utterly transfixed by the film. Like Resnais’ previous films, Muriel explores complex themes about memory and the passing of time as it’s experienced by people who have been deeply traumatized by events that are often beyond their control. Muriel stars the lovely and talented Delphine Seyrig in one of her least glamorous roles as a widowed woman in France trying to make sense of the past, while her family and friends struggle with the after-effects of the Algerian War. I loved the way Resnais creatively played with montage and color in Muriel, but the film occasionally appears a bit static when compared to his earlier efforts such as the magnificent Hiroshima mon amour (1959) and Last Year at Marienbad (1961). This is probably due to the lack of dolly shots in Muriel, which are often one of the director’s most notable trademarks. Critics love to use words like “impenetrable” when discussing Resnais’ films and I personally find his work complex but very accessible. As much as I love the visual poetry Alain Resnais is able to manifest in his work, I’m really drawn in by the language at times that has a lucidity and pure magic that I find utterly compelling. No matter what writer Resnais is collaborating with, the director is able to bring his own rhythm to the screenplay, which easily distinguishes the work of one of France’s greatest auteurs. The Koch Lorber DVD contains a nice widescreen presentation of the film with English subtitles, the original theatrical trailer and an interview with author Francois Thomas.

Sally Smith in Naked You Die (1968)

Naked You Die (Dark Sky Films)
Please see my review of Naked You Die at Cinedelica, which you can find HERE

Neither the Sea Nor the Sand (1972)

Neither the Sea Nor the Sand (Image Entertainment)
Please see my previous review of Neither the Sea Nor the Sand HERE.

Malcolm McDowell in O Lucky Man! (1973)

O Lucky Man! (Two-Disc Special Edition) (Warner Home Video)
Please see my brief look at Lindsay Anderson’s O Lucky Man! HERE.

Links to the first, second and fourth part of my Favorite DVD Releases of 2007 list can be found below:
- Favorite DVD Releases of 2007: Part I. - The DVD Year in Review - An Introduction
- Favorite DVD Releases of 2007: Part II. - Top 30 DVDs #1-10
- Favorite DVDs of 2007 Part IV. (#21-30)

The last part of my Favorite DVD Releases of 2007 - #21-30 will be posted tomorrow.

Comments (7)

Favorite DVD Releases of 2007: Part II.

by Kimberly Lindbergs | February 12, 2008

Categories | Movie Reviews, Favorite 2007 DVDs, Lindsay Anderson, Richard Harris, Malcolm McDowell, Criterion, Peter Cushing, Teruo Ishii, Doris Day, Alejandro Jodorowsky, Karel Reisz

Favorite DVD Releases of 2007: Part II. - Top 30 DVDs #1-10.

Black Test Car (1962)

Black Test Car (Fantoma)
Yasuzo Masumura is one of my favorite Japanese directors, but unfortunately many of his films are unavailable on DVD and have never been seen outside of Japan. Thankfully Fantoma has been making an effort to release many of Masumura’s films and in 2007 they released his brilliant and extremely dark satire Black Test Car (Kuro no tesuto kaa, 1962). The film takes a rather unflattering look at the corruption and greed behind the burgeoning car industry in Japan and anyone who’s familiar with the director’s earlier film Giants and Toys (Kyojin to gangu, 1958) will immediately spot similarities between the two movies. Masumura was a director who was clearly interested in critiquing Japan’s economic boom and exploring the ways in which American capitalism was affecting Japanese society after WW2. As much as I enjoyed the director’s colorful satire Giants and Toys (1958), I personally think Black Test Car is a more effective film dealing with similar themes and I’m grateful that Fantoma has made it available on DVD. Black Test Car features some stunning black and white photography, and Masumura’s direction is top-notch here. All the actors involved with the production deliver some great performances, but I found Jiro Tamiya and Junko Kano especially effective as a young couple whose relationship becomes deeply strained throughout the course of the film. The Fantoma DVD contains an excellent widescreen transfer of the film along with the original theatrical trailer, a biography on the director and still galleries.

Peter O’Toole in Becket (1964)

Becket (MPI Home Video)
I enjoy well-done British historical dramas and many great ones were released on DVD for the first time last year including the wonderful Anne of the Thousand Days (1968), which I also considered including on my list. But my favorite film of the bunch was Becket (1964), which is based on the Tony Award-winning play written by Jean Anouilh. The film plays somewhat free and loose with historical facts, but still manages to be an engaging and thoughtful take on the important events surrounding the relationship between King Henry II and Thomas Becket (the Archbishop of Canterbury from 1162 to 1170). Becket was directed by the gay filmmaker Peter Glenville and he injects the film with a wonderfully subversive edge that hints at a deeper relationship between Becket and King Henry II, who are played brilliantly by Richard Burton and Peter O’Toole. The film can be viewed simply as a great historical drama and I first saw it presented as an education tool when I was in high-school, but I also think Becket is one of the most sentimental and moving films ever shot about unrequited love shared between two men. Watching Peter O’Toole and Richard Burton struggle with their feelings for one another is what really keeps the film interesting and adds weight to the political power plays in the film and its dramatic conclusion. The DVD features an audio commentary from Peter O’Toole, the original trailer, an impressive still gallery and archival interviews with Richard Burton as well as composer Laurence Rosenthal and editor Anne V. Coates.

Doris Day in Caprice (1967)

Caprice (20th Century Fox)
Like movies such as Last of the Secret Agents? (1966) and Skidoo (1968), Caprice (1967) is a film often talked about disparagingly by people who’ve never actually seen it and it’s nowhere near as awful as you’ve been led to believe. Yes, the film has its problems and its stars (Doris Day and Richard Harrison, who’s rarely looked so good) don’t seem to have much chemistry on screen, but this entertaining spy satire also contains some really funny bits, well-done action scenes, fantastic Ray Aghayan costumes and a wonderfully polished pop-art look thanks to director Frank Tashlin and Oscar winning cinematographer Leon Shamroy. I never expected Caprice to get a DVD release, much less one as wonderful as this, but 20th Century Fox really went all out last year. Besides a spectacular restored widescreen transfer of the film, the DVD also includes commentary tracks by film historian John Cork and Pierre Patrick, a fascinating interview with costume designer Ray Aghayan, radio interviews with Doris Day and Richard Harrison, a nice photo gallery and two interesting shorts called Double-O Doris and Doris and Marty that explores the strained relationship between the Doris Day and her husband & manager, Martin Melcher. Hopefully I’ll get around to writing a longer review of Caprice in the future, but in the meantime, I highly recommend the film if you happen to enjoy Dean Martin’s Matt Helm movies as much as I do.

Chosen Survivors (1974)

Chosen Survivors / The Earth Dies Screaming (Midnite Movies / 20th Century Fox)
Last year 20th Century Fox released some terrific films as part as their wonderful Midnite Movies series, including The House on Skull Mountain / The Mephisto Waltz double feature, which I also wanted to include on my list. I haven’t seen all of last year’s Midnite Movie double features, but Chosen Survivors / The Earth Dies Screaming was one of my favorites. Before the DVD was released I hadn’t seen either of these unusual science fiction films before, but I really enjoyed them. Chosen Survivors (1974) tells an apocalyptic tale about a group of strangers thrown together in a sort of underground holding tank by the U.S. military after a thermonuclear war has destroyed earth’s surface. Things get worse when bloodthirsty bats show up and start killing people. There’s something strangely compelling about the film, and it’s definitely helped by the wonderful space age set designs and cast, which includes Jackie Cooper in what has to be his creepiest role ever. The film was directed by Sutton Roley who made lots of films for television and Chosen Survivors often has a “small set” feel, but it’s also really entertaining. The Earth Dies Screaming (1964) has a somewhat similar theme involving space aliens who use poison gas to wipe out the earth’s population leaving only a handful of survivors to deal with the aftermath. It was directed by the talented British director and Hammer legend Terence Fisher, who brings a lot of stylish touches to this low-budget movie. Overall I enjoyed Chosen Survivors a bit more, but The Earth Dies Screaming contains some rather creepy moments reminiscent of George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead (1968). This nice looking two-disc DVD set from 20th Century Fox makes for a worthwhile night of viewing.

The Holy Mountain (1973)

The Films of Alejandro Jodorowsky: Fando y Lis / El Topo / The Holy Mountain (Starz / Anchor Bay)
This impressive DVD collection features three of Alejandro Jodorowsky’s earliest films and besides one major complaint I have (when will we get a good NTSC Region 1 DVD release of the director’s best film, Santa Sangre?), this really is a spectacular collection of avant-garde cinema that should be savored. Jodorowsky’s surreal efforts play with genre expectations and are loaded with iconographic imagery and strange landscapes that I never get tired of exploring. El Topo (1970) is probably my favorite film in the collection, but The Holy Mountain (1974) gets more interesting with each viewing. Alejandro Jodorowsky is a fascinating artist and this important collection sheds some much needed light on his body of work. This new DVD set features beautiful restored and re-mastered transfers of his films, plus many impressive extras including soundtracks for El Topo and The Holy Mountain, exclusive in-depth interviews and a feature-length documentary about the director, photo galleries and Jodorowsky’s directorial debut short called La Cravate, which was long thought lost.

Anais Nin in Inauguration of the Pleasure Dome (1954)

The Films of Kenneth Anger” Vol. 1 and Vol. 2(Fantoma)
Fantoma should be applauded for bringing this terrific two-volume collection of Kenneth Anger’s esoteric short films (1947-1981) to DVD. Previously I had only seen a few of Anger’s films (Inauguration of the Pleasure Dome, 1954 and Invocation of My Demon Brother, 1969) on poor-quality videos, but Fantoma really did a spectacular job of restoring these experimental movies and they look better than ever. I’ve only managed to watch the first volume of this new DVD collection myself, but I wanted to include both volumes on my list because I think Anger’s work is smart, challenging, thought provoking and well worth seeking out. Many interesting counterculture figures and artists such as Anais Nin, Anton LaVey, Mick Jagger and filmmaker Curtis Harrington appear in Anger’s films and collaborated with him, which makes these films important historical documents as well as fascinating viewing. Extras include a deluxe 48-page book with an introduction by Martin Scorsese, audio commentary from Kenneth Anger, rare outtakes and more.

The Singing Street (1952)

Free Cinema (Facets)
This amazing three-disc DVD collection from Facets collects many influential short films from Britain’s Free Cinema movement, which helped reinvent documentary in the early 1950s and gave birth to the British New Wave. Working on shoestring budgets with hand-held 16mm cameras, directors like Karel Reisz, Tony Richardson and Lindsay Anderson were able to create startling films that brilliantly brought Britain and its working-class citizens to life, while exploring the underlying social tensions that seemed to be lingering right under the countries surface after WW2. This is the first time these important films (shot between 1952-1963) have been made available on Region 1 DVD and they really highlight the imagination and intelligence of these young British filmmakers, who would go on to create some of the greatest films made in the sixties and seventies. This three-disc DVD collection includes an extensive booklet from the BFI (British Film Institute) and an interesting documentary about the Free Cinema Movement. I hope to write much more about the films in this wonderful collection soon.

Peter Cushing in From Beyond the Grave (1973)

From Beyond the Grave (Warner Home Video)
Please see my previous review of this terrific Amicus anthology film HERE.

Horrors of Malformed Men (1969)

Horrors of Malformed Men (Synapse Films)
For years I’ve been hoping someone would unearth this rare experimental Japanese horror film that was often assumed lost after it was banned in Japan shortly after its initial release, so you can imagine how happy and surprised I was to discover that Synapse was releasing it on DVD last year. Thankfully the film did not disappoint and Horrors of Malformed Men (1969) turned out to be one of the most fascinating Japanese horror films I’ve ever seen. Horrors of Malformed Men is based on an original novel by the popular Japanese author Edogawa Rampo that borrows a lot from H. G. Wells’ classic The Island of Dr. Moreau. Director Teruo Ishii takes what could have been a somewhat familiar premise and turns it into a fascinating fever dream that combines Butoh dance, stunning color photography and a haunting soundtrack by famed composer Masao Yagi. You might laugh, you might cry and you might even have your mind blown by this unapologetically strange and surreal film. Be sure to watch the great interviews included on the DVD with directors Shinya Tsukamoto and Minoru Kawasaki, which only add to the film’s enjoyment and offer an interesting look at the influence this unusual movie had on a new generation of Japanese filmmakers. Other great extras include audio commentary by author Mark Schilling, the original Japanese trailer, a poster gallery and detailed biographies of director Teruo Ishii and author Edogawa Rampo.

Malcolm McDowell in If…. (1968)

If…. (Criterion Collection)
When I first saw Lindsay Anderson’s If…. (1968) it deeply affected me and helped spark my lifelong interest in British cinema. Over the years my admiration for Anderson’s smart film about British youth “revolting against the status quo and daring to imagine what it might be like to put something else in its place” (David Ehrenstein - from his Criterion Essay written for DVD release of If….) has only grown. In the film Malcolm McDowell gives an iconic performance as a troubled student named Mick Travis who rebels against the system with his imagination and wits. I love the way Anderson creatively mixes color with black and white photography within If…. in order to give Mick Travis an inner life that’s so incredibly rich that he seems to literally live and breath right on the screen. If…. has often been compared to Jean Vigo’s 1932 classic Zero for Conduct and Anderson was undoubtedly inspired to some degree by that film, but If…. is clearly a product of the turbulant times that it was made in and frankly it’s a superior and more complex effort that ranks as one of the greatest and most important British films of the sixties. Criterion really did a remarkable job on their two-disc DVD presentation of If…., which includes a newly restored high-definition digital transfer of the film approved by cinematographer Miroslav Ondricek, an insightful audio commentary with actor Malcolm McDowell and film historian David Robinson, interviews with McDowell, Ondricek, Anderson’s assistant Stephen Frears, producer Michael Medwin and screenwriter David Sherwin, Anderson’s Academy Award–winning documentary about a school for deaf children called Thursday’s Children (1954) narrated by Richard Burton and a very nice booklet featuring articles about the film by David Ehrenstein, as well as screenwriter David Sherwin and director Lindsay Anderson.

Links to the first, third and fourth part of my Favorite DVD Releases of 2007 list can be found here:
- Favorite DVD Releases of 2007: Part I. - The DVD Year in Review - An Introduction
- Favorite DVDs of 2007 Part III. (#11-20)
- Favorite DVDs of 2007 Part IV. (#21-30)

Part III. of my Favorite DVD Releases of 2007 - #11-20 will be posted soon so stay tuned!

Comments (16)

DVD of the Week: This Sporting Life (1963)

by Kimberly Lindbergs | January 27, 2008

Categories | British Cinema, DVD of the Week, Lindsay Anderson, Richard Harris, Criterion, Karel Reisz

I was hoping I’d get the chance to watch the new Criterion release of Lindsay Anderson’s This Sporting Life (1963) this week, but unfortunately I haven’t had the opportunity to. Since I’ve seen the film before and I have great respect for it, I really have no problem recommending the new Criterion disc. It promises to be one of the best DVD releases of the year. I hope to delve deeper into the film in the future after I have a chance to view it again so you can expect to see more posts from me about the British New Wave and British cinema in general in 2008.

In the meantime, if you haven’t had the pleasure of seeing Anderson’s gritty bleak drama yet, I highly recommend This Sporting Life. The film was produced by the talented filmmaker Karel Reisz (Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, Morgan: A Suitable Case for Treatment, etc.) and his influence on the production seems somewhat apparent when you watch the film. This Sporting Life is really a pivotal film in Lindsay Anderson’s directorial career and undoubtedly one of the most important films to come out of the British New Wave. It also features one of Richard Harris‘ finest performances.

The new Criterion DVD boasts a lot of great extras including multiple short films by Lindsay Anderson, audio commentary by Paul Ryan and David Storey, a documentary and interviews with people who knew and worked with the director. Criterion’s two disc DVD presentation of This Sporting Life is currently available from Amazon for $34.99 and the film is also available for rent from online sources like Greencine and Netflix.

Comments (14)

The Terrorists Are Coming, the Terrorists Are Coming!

by Kimberly Lindbergs | November 12, 2007

Categories | Movie Reviews, American Cinema, Comedies, War, Norman Jewison, John Phillip Law, TCM, Karel Reisz

I recently had the opportunity to see Norman Jewison’s extremely silly and sometimes smart 1966 comedy The Russians Are Coming, the Russians Are Coming for the first time in about 20 years when it played on TCM. When I was a kid The Russians Are Coming, the Russians Are Coming was one of my favorite comedies for reasons I can’t really explain, except it seemed to portray adults as I saw them then - easily frightened big kids who projected their fears onto their children and conformed to every bad idea that society and the government tossed their way.

I was afraid the film wouldn’t hold up after such a long period of time between my last viewing so my expectations were extremely low going into the movie but once it ended my appreciation for it remained. It’s no longer one of my favorite comedies but I really admire its undeniable charm and the way it manages to cram complex ideas into easily digested entertainment that the whole family can enjoy. Simply put, it’s a lightweight version of Kubrick’s brilliant Dr. Strangelove (1964) and it works.

The Russians Are Coming, the Russians Are Coming opens with a Russian sub running aground in a small New England coastal town. Naturally chaos erupts because the U.S. is in the middle of the cold war and only four years have passed since the infamous Cuban Missile Crisis. The Americans think the Russians are invading and the whole town pulls out their guns and comes together to form a modern day militia in an effort to stop them. Of course things aren’t exactly what they seem since the Russians in the sub are merely trying to get back home. After bouts of hysteria and plenty of violent outbursts, the panicky town’s folk and the frazzled Russian soldiers manage to come together to save the life of a young child in peril and the sub returns home.

There are some standout performances in The Russians Are Coming, the Russians Are Coming, including Carl Reiner’s terrific turn as a comedy writer trying to calm the paranoid town and the very funny Alan Arkin playing a smart Russian Lieutenant who’s trying to get a handle on the slowly escalating events all around him. Brian Keith is also very good as the town Sheriff who can’t believe the situation he’s found himself in. Arkin’s Russian Lieutenant and Keith’s small town Sheriff could have been roles written purely for easy laughs but they’re not. Viewers are asked to sympathize with both men in some ways and we do. The gorgeous John Philip Law also shows up as a Russian solider who speaks a little bit of English and ends up falling for a perky American blond played by Andrea Dromm. The two young lovebirds make a cute couple and their romance echoes themes found in Shakespeare’s classic play Romeo and Juliet, which gives the film an emotional core that I personally found rather sweet and appealing.

The beauty of The Russians Are Coming, the Russians Are Coming seems perfectly clear today as we deal with some vaguely defined idea of an enemy we’re supposed to fear enough to give up our Constitutional Freedoms and basic human compassion for. The film has often been unfairly criticized for its dated jokes, simple plot and silly slapstick style humor. But if the ideas presented in Norman Jewison’s film are so dated, simple and silly, why are people still making the same absurd mistakes outlined in a movie made some 40 years ago? If anything, the film’s basic premise and themes are as pertinent as ever. Underneath all the movie’s jokes and gentleness, The Russians Are Coming, the Russians Are Coming knows that war is a nasty business and there are rarely any victors.

The Russians Are Coming, the Russians Are Coming has often been compared to It’s a Mad Mad Mad Mad World (1963) due to it’s title, characters and a large cast that happens to have some similar actors including Jonathan Winters, but I think The Russians Are Coming, the Russians Are Coming is a much stronger film that is willing to explore big ideas that were not very popular at the time that the movie was made, while keeping its tongue firmly planted in its cheek. Apparently the movie was banned in the USSR after its release, but it was nominated for a Best Picture Oscar in 1966.

The script is based on a novel called The Off-Islanders by the American author Nathaniel Benchley who happens to be the father of Jaws author Peter Benchley. I find it amusing that both men wrote books set in small New England towns where they were raised. And both stories focus on a town being terrorized by some unknown scary “other.” It’s also worth noting that one of my favorite American filmmakers, the great Hal Ashby, also acted as an editor on the movie.

These days it can be hard to find anything worth smiling about but if you haven’t seen The Russians Are Coming, the Russians Are Coming I recommend giving it a look. It just might make you laugh. The movie is available on DVD from Amazon and it’s playing again on Turner Movie Classics Nov. 28th when the great actor Brian Dennehy hosts four of his favorite films. I really like Brian Dennehy so I was happy to discover that he selected the film to play with two other films from the sixties, Karel Reisz‘s gritty British drama Saturday Night and Sunday Morning (1960) and Bryan Forbes‘s British comedy The Wrong Box (1966). I’ve wanted to see The Wrong Box for years, but it isn’t available on DVD yet so I’ll be watching it on TCM Nov. 28th.

Comments (10)

R.I.P. Freddie Francis 1917-2007

by Kimberly Lindbergs | March 21, 2007

Categories | Directors, British Cinema, Hammer Horror, Amicus Productions, Freddie Francis, Peter Cushing, Oliver Reed, Jack Clayton, Karel Reisz

I had planned on finishing up the Lucio Fulci tribute I started last week, which was slowed down by unexpected computer troubles, but I was deeply saddened to learn that the great British filmmaker & cinematographer Freddie Francis had passed away on March 17th due to complications following a stroke and I decided to spend some time writing about Francis instead since he’s long been one of my favorite filmmakers.

Freddie Francis began his career in cinema as a camera operator working with directors like Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger on The Tales of Hoffmann (1951) and John Huston on Moulin Rouge (1952), Beat the Devil (1953) and Moby Dick (1956).

In the late 50s Francis started focusing on cinematography and quickly became a master of his craft. He helped form what would later be called the British New Wave and was responsible for the impressive look of some of the best “angry young men” films of the period such as Karel Reisz’ Saturday Night And Sunday Morning (1960). He also worked with great British directors like Joseph Losey on Time Without Pity (1957) and Jack Cardiff on the Oscar winning Sons and Lovers (1960). His early work helped breathe new life into British cinema and his black & white cinematography for director Jack Clayton was especially groundbreaking. The thoughtful drama Room at the Top (1959) and the haunting thriller The Innocents (1961) are both wonderful examples of what Freddie Francis was able to do with his camera.

Francis later turned to directing and was inspired by filmmakers such as Billy Wilder, William Wyler and Tod Browning, as well as his mentors which included John Huston and Michael Powell.

Some of his best work can be seen in the early films he made for Hammer Studios. Paranoiac is an under-appreciated gem made by Francis in 1963, which is beautifully directed and shot in stunning black & white. The director also managed to get Oliver Reed to deliver one of his greatest performances in Paranoiac playing a tormented alcoholic. Another impressive early effort from Francis was the disturbing thriller Nightmare made in 1964. In Nightmare Jennie Linden plays a young girl who’s plagued by nightmarish visions and Francis does a stellar job of bringing the dark dream world she inhabits to life.

His color films were often just as interesting as his early black & white efforts, and some of his best movies included the seven horror films he made with the great Peter Cushing. Their first Hammer film together was the impressive Evil of Frankenstein (1964). Many fans of the Hammer Frankenstein films shun The Evil of Frankenstein because it takes a much different approach to the the character of the Doctor compared to how he’s usually portrayed in Hammer films. Instead of making Doctor Frankenstein a crazy & nasty man who’s out to do harm by making a monster, Freddie Francis turned him into a sympathetic character who’s horrified by his creation. I personally think the film is a great homage to the classic Universal Frankenstein movies of the 1930s & 40s, and the “birth of the monster” is especially well executed.

Following The Evil of Frankenstein, Freddie Francis began working with Amicus and made my favorite British horror anthology, Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors (1965) which has some extremely effective moments and is creatively shot. It also has a terrific cast that includes Christopher Lee, Donald Sutherland and Peter Cushing as the mysterious fortune teller Dr. Sandor Schreck. Francis had the ability to weave shorter films into a wonderful whole. They didn’t always work, but more often than not they did and in Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors he was once again able to coax his cast of actors into giving some memorable performances as the tormented victims of Dr. Sandor Schreck’s prophecies.

Freddie Francis would later on go to direct many other great horror anthologies including Torture Garden (1967) and Tales of the Crypt (1972). Tales of the Crypt is based on the EC Comic series of the same name and it was the first film Peter Cushing made after the sad death of his wife Helen. I’ve always been touched by the way Freddie Francis and Peter Cushing worked together on Tales of the Crypt. Both men decided to come up with a way to pay their respects to the woman Peter had deeply loved and lost, so they changed the name of Cushing’s deceased wife in the film to Helen and brought actual pictures of her onto the set. Many people assume that Peter Cushing was distraught at the time, but Freddie Francis has always said that it was a choice that he and Peter made together to honor her memory. I’m sure that working on the film probably helped Peter Cushing work through his grief, because he delivered a terrific and sympathetic performance in Tales of the Crypt as the eccentric Mr. Grimsdyke.

Other memorable films that Francis and Cushing made together include the excellent occult thriller The Skull, the creative werewolf film Legend of the Werewolf (1975), the creepy and entertaining Ghoul (1975) and The Creeping Flesh (1973) which brought Peter Cushing together with Christopher Lee in one of their best parings.

Oddly enough, one film that Francis and Cushing did not work on together was Dracula Has Risen from the Grave (1968). The film was Francis’ feature entry into Hammer’s Dracula series, but like The Evil of Frankenstein, Francis didn’t necessarily follow Hammer formula in Dracula Has Risen from the Grave and Peter Cushing’s Van Helsing is nowhere to be found. What his Dracula film does include is some breathtaking studio photography and lovely use of color, which makes it’s one of the most visually striking of all the Hammer Dracula movies. It also has some surprisingly gory moments and Lee’s Dracula is smartly presented as a seductive, yet scary creature with animal instincts and a nasty temper.

As the 1970s approached Freddie Francis was becoming increasingly tired of the British horror genre he helped create. He had never intended on making a name for himself in horror cinema, but the dramas and comedies he wanted to direct never materialized. Horror fans greatly admired his skills as a director and cinematographer so studios like Hammer, Tigon and Amicus continued to offer him projects which he reluctantly accepted. I’m thankful that he did, because I think some of his best work can be found in the atmospheric horror films he directed.

Even his failures were interesting such as the The Vampire Happening (1971) which plays like a stylish gothic episode of Benny Hill and the musical horror comedy Son of Dracula (1974) which features an impressive cast of musicians including Ringo Starr, Harry Nilsson, Peter Frampton, Keith Moon and John Bonham.

In the 80s Francis worked as a cinematographer on such films as The Elephant Man (1980, David Lynch), The French Lieutenant’s Woman (1981, Karel Reisz), Dune (1984, David Lynch), Cape Fear (1991, Martin Scorsese) and Glory (1989, Edward Zwick) which won him his second Oscar.

Thankfully he returned to directing for a brief time to make the terrific chiller The Doctor and the Devils (1985). The Doctor and the Devils was a film that Freddie Francis had wanted to make for 10 years and he got the opportunity to direct it when Mel Brooks (who he had met while working on The Elephant Man) agreed to help produce it. The film is based on a script by Dylan Thomas about the infamous Burke & Hare murders, and it features some terrific performances by a great cast that includes Timothy Dalton, Jonathan Pryce, Stephen Rea, Julian Sands, Patrick Stewart and model/pop singer turned actress Twiggy. Unfortunately Francis was upset with the cuts that 20th Century Fox decided to made to the film. His disappointment and frustration with making The Doctor and the Devils lead him to end his career as a director and focus on cinematography exclusively.

There are few cinematographers that can compare to Freddie Francis and he will be greatly missed, but I also think his wonderful career as a filmmaker has few rivals as well. It’s a shame that he didn’t direct more films in his later years, but thankfully he left us with an amazing filmography of work to enjoy. Even though he often regretted the years he spent in the British horror industry, I believe he achieved his greatest success there and we are lucky that his talent was used to advance horror cinema in creative and smart new directions.

Comments (6)