Tomb of Forgotten Film: The Cincinnati Kid (1965)

As I wisk myself off to the City that Care forgot, this week is going to be devoted to films that take place in New Orleans. All your favorite features will go on as normal thanks to the magic of computers (and my working way far ahead). In the meantime, don’t forget that this week I’ll be talking about my time in New Orleans including things to do, food to eat, and where some of these films were shot. So click on the link in the sidebar to check out I Got the Ways and Means: A New Orleans Travel-blog. 

Today’s film features one of my favorite actors of all time, and even though you wouldn’t know it from the title, it’s one of my favorite New Orleans films. I’ll cut the buildup short this time and get right to the heart of it with today’s selection from the Tomb of Forgotten Film…

The Cincinnati Kid (1965) starring Steve McQueen, Edward G. Robinson, Karl Mauldin, Ann Margret, Rip Torn, and Tuesday Weld. Directed by Norman Jewison. 

In every city you go to there’s a top poker player, in New Orleans, that player is the Eric ‘The Kid” Stoner (McQueen). So when poker legend Lancie “The Man” Howard (Robinson) rolls into town a game in inevitable. First, the man rolls though Slade (Rip Torn), a poker player from the upper crust of New Orleans society. When Slade is cleaned out, he tries to get the dealer, Shooter (Karl Mauldin) to fix the game between “The Kid” and “The Man”, but when it comes game time; all their fates hang in the cards. 

The Bugg Picture

While poker is at the heart of this picture, character is what really drives it. While McQueen played more action-oriented roles, as “The Kid”, he really flexes his acting chops as the upstart player coming up against the established pro.  Playing against an  actor like Edward G. Robinson, who brings gravitas to the role of  Lancie “The Man” because of his legendary silver screen roles. McQueen makes the story about more than two generations of poker players. It becomes a battle between one of the coolest customers in ‘40’s cinema and the king of cool himself. 

As if this film didn’t have enough going for it in the cool department, it was almost directed by Sam Peckinpah, but after the producers canned him, he went on to make Major Dundee. Sam had intended to shoot the film in black and white,and unbeknownst to the producers intended to include some nude shots. They were outraged that Sam would try and make “a vulgar kind of picture”. Jewison was brought in to replace Peckinpah,  and the producers scrapped the footage along with actress Sharon Tate, replacing her with the more demure Tuesday Weld.  

Norman Jewison, what is there to say about this guy who directed The Russians Are Coming the Russians Are Coming, Rollerball, and In The Heat of the Night. Even if you don’t think you’ve seen one of his films, chances are you have. Norman eschewed Peckinpah’s notion to shoot in black and white. He is said to have felt that the poker game with it’s high contrast black, red, and white cards lost something without color. Muting the color palette, Jewison tries to create the feeling of the late 1940’s. Unfortunately, the costuming varies widely, McQueen’s character rocks a wardrobe that could have been the sixties or last week, but assuredly not the forties. There are a few other anachronisms including the diesel trains that “The Kid” ducks behind while escaping though a train yard.

While there are some slipups, it is easy in the post Pulp Fiction era we live in to chalk up the tiny discrepancies to that magical occurrence known as “movie time”, and like QT’s films, Cincinnati Kid relies on sharp, crisp dialog. Thankfully even beyond McQueen and Robinson we get some great performances.  Ann Margret does a wonderful and very sexy job as Melba,  Karl Mauldin’s philandering wife. There’s a scene where we are first introduced to her character, Melba, and she is cutting a piece of a jigsaw puzzle to make it fit. It’s a beautiful piece of character, and Margret captures the essence of the man eating woman child. 

As her put upon husband, veteran actor Karl Maulden, whose been in everything from Pollyanna to Argento‘s Cat o‘ Nine Tails, also puts in a stellar performance. Mauldin’s “Shooter” must contemplate whether to buckle under the strain or compromise his spotless 25-year reputation. Mauldin plays it all in posture, “Shooter” begins to look as if he has a massive weight on him. While McQueen is all easygoing luck, Maulden just can’t catch a break. 

 Rip Torn, who always makes a film better, makes an appearance here as the villainous Slade. It always completely throws me off what a baby face Torn has in the film he comes off like the New Orleans society ass he‘s supposed to be. You also get appearances from Joan Blondell, a siren of film noir, and her exchanges with Robinson are brilliant, Jack Weston who is emblazoned on my mind as the resort director in Dirty Dancing, and Mr. Hi-Di-Ho himself, Cab Calloway. As all these characters converge around the poker tables it becomes something of a prehistoric episode of Celebrity Poker Showdown, so I was none too surprised when I saw the disk had a commentary track from Dave Foley and Phil Gordon. 

The weakest performence came from Tuesday Weld., but I’m  not convinced it was all her fault. As “The Kid”s girlfriend, she seems to only crop up as a motivation for McQueen’s character, and never has any real personality. When you examine her performance versus the femme fatale embodied by Ann Margret, it becomes even more diminished. It’s too bad because it leaves the romantic subplot to a series of long scenes that go by without a real spark between the leads. 

I think its about time to end now with the beginning. As the film opens, we get a great title song done by the indomitable Ray Charles, and then the movie moves quickly into establishing the local with one of the classic New Orleans shorthand’s, the Jazz funeral. As we continue to explore these films set in the Crescent City, nearly every one will contain one of these things: a Jazz Funeral, Mardi Gras, a Voodoo Priest or Priestess, or a swinging Jazz Combo (which also applies here with an appearance by the Preservation Hall Jazz Band). While the city doesn’t play a major role in the film (in the novel by Richard Jessup, the basis for the script, the setting was St. Louis), it does add a certain flavor to the proceeding that only New Orleans can bring. As for me, well I’ll be back tomorrow with another NOLA flick, in spirit at least, but my body is somewhere on Bourbon Streets sippin’ a hurricane or a Big Ass Beer and feeling just as cool as Steve McQueen. Later, folks. 

Bugg Rating

Tomb of Forgotten Film: Forbidden Photos of a Lady Above Suspicion (1970)

What do you get when you have an Italian movie featuring beautiful women, intrigue, and a title that runs between seven and ten words? A giallo of course and nothing whets my appetite for an Italian thriller more than a title that could double as a tongue twister. So when I saw the title of tonight’s film, I knew I had to give it a look. And who wouldn’t want to look at….

The Forbidden Photos of a Lady Above Suspicion [Italian: Le photo proibite di una signora per bene] (1970) starring Dagmar Lassander, Peir Paolo Capponi, Simon Andreu, and Nieves Navarro. Directed by Luciano Ercoli. 

While taking a walk on the beach, Minou (Lassander) is hounded by a man on a motorcycle. He corners her and she thinks he intends to rape her. He cuts open the front of her dress, but stops short, telling her that her husband, Peter (Capponi) is a murderer and a fraud. Days later, he calls her at home and plays a tape for her. On it she hears Peter planning to do in his business partner, and the man says he will give the tape to the police if she does not become his sex slave. She acquiesces and gets the tape, but the man shows up again, this time with photographic evidence of their tryst. With no other choice, she tells Peter the whole tale and they go to the police. When they arrive at the apartment where she had been violated, it seems to have been empty for many years, and with no one to believe her, Minou begins to believe she is losing her mind

The Bugg Picture

The Forbidden Photos of a Lady above Suspicion (heretofore referred to as Forbidden Photos) is the first film from producer turned director Ercoli. He would follow this film up with his two more popular films Death Walks on High Heels (1971) and Death Walks at Midnight (1972). Unlike those films which follow a more traditional giallo formula, Forbidden Photos dispenses with the traditional murder plots and instead turns an eye to blackmail. In some aspects, this film is not what many would consider a giallo seeing there’s no black gloves, little blood, and not a boob to be found (although there is some stunning side boob), but it’s still plenty sleazy and a pretty good mystery to boot. 

The script was written by the prolific scribe Ernesto Gastaldi who also penned such films as Hands of Steel, Scorpion with Two Tails, and 2019: After The Fall of New York (all for Sergio Martino). Gastaldi puts forth some engaging characters and a pretty fine twist that I did not see coming, but more than that he dared to break the formula. By steering the focus of the film from more traditional giallo themes, it kept me interested unlike so many in the sub-genre which can feel like carbon copies. 

Adding to my interest in the film was a duo of hot redheads. Dagmar Lassander, of House by the Cemetery, as Minou, seems the model of the bored, strung out housewife with her steady diet of tranquilizers and whiskey until  she is swept up into the blackmailers plot of perverse S&M sex. From there the confusion and shame play across her face beautifully, and when she must confront questions of her own sanity, she seems genuinely bewildered. Then there is Nieves Navarro as Minou's best friend Dominique. Navarro’s character is a perfect counterbalance to the staid housewife. She revels in her sexuality and owns a massive collection of pornographic pictures, something that must have seemed particularly shocking to an early 1970’s audience. After all, the sexual revolution might have been in full swing, but people are still scandalized by the thought of a woman enjoying pornography even in this day and age. The two characters compliment each other’s performances rather well, and this is only enhanced by the subtle lesbian undertones that are left to the imagination. 

Complimenting the performances of the ladies are the films two gents. Simon Andreu’s nameless blackmailer is suitably slimy, and each time he appears on the screen you know he’s going to say or do something horribly creepy. He was very interesting to watch, and for me, I always find men who revel in punishing women for sexual gratification rather disturbing. On that level, Andreu definitely worked for me as a villain. Unfortunately, the weakest character is Peir Paolo Capponi’s Peter. We never get to know the man or his motivations. Seeing as the plot revolves around his wife’s desire to protect him from being labeled a murderer, there is little reason given as to why she would be so protective. Peter comes off like a jerk, and as the film unfolds, there is good reason to believe that’s what he is. 

As with many of the Italian thrillers, this film also features an impossibly peppy main theme. This time the score is provided by Ennio Morricone, and while he provides some interesting tracks that harkens to his non-soundtrack experimental albums, there is nothing here that was particularly memorable or moving. In fact the music seemed so bland at points that I barely noticed its presence. However Alejandro Ulloa, the cinematographer who would also work on Fulci’s Conquest and Castellari’s High Crime, makes his presence known. There are many stunning shots that litter the film, and his choice of shots in the sex scenes makes them erotic without the use of graphic nudity. There is also some nice use of light and shadow, but unlike similar shots in the films of Argento or Bava, I found that some of them felt forced and unnatural.  

Forbidden Photos is not a classic film, but it is a good example of what a film can do when it reaches beyond the expectations of its genre. When you combine that with a color palette that pops, style that oozes from the screen, and a pair of female leads that command your attention, and you get an above average example of giallo cinema. So if you’re in the mood for a quirky thriller with a twisty ending that will leave you guessing, then check this one out. 

The Bugg Picture

Tomb of Forgotten Film: Frenzy (1972)

After the last few films I had viewed turned out to be puzzling, troublesome affairs full of opaque meanings, disturbing visuals, and enigmatic themes, I was ready to settle in to a film that was on a more straightforward course. I still wasn’t quite ready to give up the thrills though. So with that in mind I picked a film that I had never seen (and scarcely heard of) but one of the lauded masters of the thriller, Alfred Hitchcock. I knew I would be in for a film that would still have great visual flair and some interesting characters, but what Hitchcock does better than any other director is turn the thriller on it’s ear. In many of his films (i.e. Psycho) you know quite well who the killer is, yet the film still manages to excite and engage. In fact some people love Hitch’s work so much it put’s them in quite a….

Frenzy (1972) starring Jon Finch, Barry Foster, Barbra Lee Hunt, Anna Massey, Alec McCowen, and Vivian Merchant. Directed by Alfred Hitchcock. 

When he gets fired from his job as a bartender for nicking a drink, Dick (Finch) finds himself broke and low on luck. He doesn’t even have enough money to put down on a 20 to 1 sure bet at the track that his friend Bob (Foster) told him about. To make matters worse, he pays a visit to his ex-wife Brenda (Hunt), now a prosperous London match maker, and makes a fool out of himself at her club when she invites him to dinner. To cap off his day, Dick has to resort to sleeping at a Salvation Army shelter as he has no place else to go.     

Just when he thinks things can’t get any worse, Brenda turns up dead, strangled to death by the Necktie Killer who has been stalking the city’s streets. Dick had been seen leaving her office shortly before she was discovered and soon becomes the prime suspect. He goes into hiding with the help of his girlfriend Babs (Massey), but she is later found dead as well. Framed for murders he did not commit, Dick becomes a victim of circumstance while the real killer gets away, but will justice ever get served. Oh, yes, as certain as Bob’s your uncle. 

The Bugg Speaks

Yes, I know the synopsis tells who the real killer is, but in my defense within 20 minutes of watching he film, the whole audience knows who the killer is. The most wonderful thing about this film is that it really doesn’t matter. With this story based off of the book Goodbye Piccadilly, Farewell Leicester Square by Arthur Le Bern, Hitchcock is striking back to the theme of the wrongly accused that he has focused on many times in the past with his films The Lodger, North By Northwest, and, of course, The Wrong Man. 

By showing the three sides of this tale, the wrongly accused, the actual guilty party, and coppers on the case, Hitchcock illustrates quite effectively how crazy bad one man’s luck could be. Everything that Dick does points the finger in his direction. This is not a man framed (at least not at first); this is a man who framed himself by simply going about his business. He has a heated argument with his ex-wife, and he’s seen leaving her office. His girl brings him his suitcase and is found dead only hours later, and worst of all, his only friend in the world is actually the Necktie Killer. You have to feel sorry for the guy. This kind of luck you can only get when you’ve got no luck at all. 

To really bring the character of Dick to life, it required a man who looked hangdogged and completely defeated by life, and thankfully Hitch found his man in Jon Finch. With the glories of victories in the war long behind him, Dick appears constantly crestfallen, and Finch brings this air to the character from the first moments he appears on the screen. Then as the case begins to mount against him, Finch brings the character down and down, spiraling into his own pit on confusion and despair. The only thing that bothered me about the performance was the lack of reaction to either his ex’s or girlfriend’s deaths. For a character that is so easy to pity, this move made him seem crass, and I just can’t see why this direction was taken. I don’t need him to drop to his knees in a “Why, God, why?!” moment, but I surely expected some kind of emotional response. 

As the antithesis to the beaten down Dick (oh, man there is something wrong with that phrase, but I’m leaving it ‘cause it makes me laugh.), you have the successful dapper Bob played by Barry Foster. We’ve seen Barry before on these pages, but it’s been quite some time since I took at look at Twisted Nerve. It seems that Hitchcock was impressed with Foster’s acting in the Twisted Nerve, which plays out a bit like a cut rate Hitchcockian thriller, and cast him in this film when Michael Caine passed on the role. It seems Caine, who was coming off the success of The Italian Job and Get Carter, did not want to be associated with the role of a serial killer rapist, but nine years later he’d happily take the job as the transsexual murderer in De Palma’s Dressed to Kill. But I digress.

 Foster is the very ideal of the early 60’s swinging London gent with his Savoy Row suits and incredible head of blonde hair, oh, and a penchant of killing nubile young women with his neckties. I really enjoyed his performance; the highlight of which has to be the darkly comic scene wherein he has to peruse one of his victims that he’s stuffed in a sack and thrown into a potato truck. His ordeal of getting the tie pin that she she was clutching out of her rigored fingers is both a very funny bit of physical comedy and shocking as he breaks her fingers to get at the clue he left behind. Couple this scene with the one where he commits rape while grunting “Lovely” over and over, and you’ve got the portrait of a very twisted individual. 

However, even though Foster and Finch were highly enjoyable, I really enjoyed all the time we spent with investigation officer Det. Lt. Bowers played by Alec McCowen. While we do get some fairly rote investigation scenes from him, the real good stuff comes when we follow him home at the end of the day. Chatting about the case with his wife, played by Vivian Merchant, we see how focused and narrow-minded Bowers has become about the facts of the case. Even as his wife brings up many good points that would contradict his suppositions about Dick, Bowers is blinded by what he perceives as an open and shut case. In a nice easy bit of character development, we also learn that Bowers has his own troubled at home. It seems Mrs. Bowers is a terrible cook, and she loves to try exotic and unappetizing dishes. At one point Bowers is describing a truck stop and muses on all the good foods they serve there and the sparkle in his eyes as he daydreams about edible food is almost good enough for me to recommend this film to any man who’s ever had to endure a horrid dish that his wife is quite proud of. Not that I have ever had to do that. I have always enjoyed everything that Ms. Directed has cooked.

Sadly what doesn’t add anything to the proceeding are the ladies. While both appear partially undressed (or at least some body doubles do) neither is very lovely, talented, or interesting. They appear only to further the story along and end up on the slab. It is a pity, and I have to wonder how much better the film might have been with Elke Sommer or the like taking on one of the roles. 

I know I’m going on a bit here, so thanks to anyone who’s still with me. I just have a few more thoughts left. The cinematography, as with most Hitchcock films is beyond excellent. The director of photography was none other than Gil Taylor who had already made a name for himself shooting The Beatles’ A Hard Day’s Night and Dr. Strangelove. He would go on to work on many more legendary films such as Flash Gordon, The Omen, and some film called Star Wars. There are several stunning pieces of camerawork including a tracking shot almost as impressive as the one in Goodfellas and with twice the impact to the story. There are many great angles explored and the camera keeps the film, which clocks in just shy of 2 hours, from ever growing stale. 

I do have some concerns over the score by Ron Goodman who also provided the music for films such as Day of the Triffids and Gawain and the Green Knight. Originally intended to be scored by Henri Mancini, Hitchcock was unhappy with the results and hired Goodman in his place. I would really like to hear the opening theme Mancini composed as I really felt as though Goodman dropped the ball in setting the mood for the piece. While it sounds very, well, British, I don’t really need music to tell me we’re in London when I was clearly see Tower Bridge rising over the Thames in the opening shots. Throughout the film the music is uneven, but I did rather enjoy the tune over the closing credits. I’m certain I’ve heard it before, and it may have been re-used in some other film, but I just can’t put my finger on it. 

In the end (yes, there is an end in sight, folks), Frenzy does not rank up there with the classics that Hitchcock has given us, but even his films that are not quite up to par with the rest of his work are generally better than most other flicks (except Topaz, yuk!). Since it’s one I had never seen it was refreshing to see how Hitch moved into the ‘70’s and began to wrap up his career. It was his first ‘R’ rated film, and his second to last film overall. It took some chances, but still maintained many of the ideas he had long been working with. Thankfully due to the performances of the three male leads, the film becomes something, not quite special, but noteworthy. If you’ve seen a good portion of the master’s catalog, then check Frenzy out. If not, get thee directly to the store and buy a copy of North by Northwest, Vertigo, or Rear Window. 

Bugg Rating 

INCREDIBLE TRAILER FROM HITCH HIMSELF! A MUST WATCH!

Tomb of Forgotten Film: Future Force (1989)

I don’t recall things being that bad in 1989. Sure George H.W. Bush took office. Sure Muslims were out to kill Salman Rushdie. And, yeah, maybe the Exxon Valdez might have spilled oil all over the place and Pete Rose was banned from baseball, but there was good stuff too. That was the year of Burton’s Batman and the Sega Genesis. The same year that Ted Bundy got the chair, and the Simpsons debuted in their own show. So what in the world made the folks behind this film think that by the far-flung year of 1991 the world would get so violent and crazy. And we’d have laser gun gloves. And a private police force. And David Carradine. Well, I guess the last part did come true, but not much else about….

Future Force (1989) starring David Carradine, Robert Tessier, Anna Rapagna, and Partick Culliton. Directed by David A. Prior.

John Tucker (Carradine), an officer for C.O.P.S. (the “Civilian Operated Police State”), has a reputation for bringing in his criminals dead rather than alive, but it’s not as if he doesn’t warn them. Each time he faces off with a baddie he intones the new Miranda warning, "You've committed a crime. You're presumed guilty until proven innocent. You have the right to die. You choose to relinquish that right you'll be placed under arrest and put in prison.". Sometimes the crooks listen, but more often than not, Tucker doesn’t care either way. Packing a six-shooter and a laser blasting glove, he’s one of the best.

When he goes to make an arrest of the traitorous TV reporter Marian Sims (Rapangna), he soon finds himself on the other side of the law when he finds out that Marian is in possession of a videotape that proves corruption in the ranks of the C.O.P.S. Mob boss Grimes (Culliton) will stop at nothing to get it, but he’ll soon find out that he can’t escape the long arm….or glove of the law.

The Bugg Speaks

You know what’s futuristic? A warehouse district somewhere in L.A., people packing revolvers, and a big badass weapon that looks more like Nintendo’s doomed power glove. Oh, wait, that’s the wrong list. That’s my list of things that are NOT futuristic. My mistake and the mistake of Future Force. I have stated many times at the Lair that I love a film set in a dystopian future. So when I picked this flick up on VHS, I thought it looked great. I love David Carradine for all his hammy acting. I thought the idea of him with a robotic arm was full of goofy goodness. I thought the idea of a privatized police force could make for some interesting, ham-fisted, b-movie social commentary. I was wrong on all fronts.

Let’s just take these things one at a time. First off, a dystopian future. I love a film that intones that terrible things will come to pass in the 15 or 20 years it would take us to get to a year like 2002, but really, 2 years! Perhaps David Prior, who is known for his mostly terrible low budget films such as the 1988 Joe Spinelli vehicle Operation Warzone, thought that by reigning in the year he could get by with things not looking so futuristic. It might have worked too, that is if he hadn’t named his film FUTURE Force. C.O.P.S would have been a much better moniker, but at the time, there was a short-lived children’s animated series by the same name, and I’m sure no one wanted those two things to be confused.

Speaking of confused, David Carradine looked like he wondered exactly how he had reached this new low, and this is the man who had already appeared in gems like 1984’s The Warrior and the Sorceress and Safari 3000 (1982). The once svelte actor looked pretty paunchy here, and it wasn’t just his stomach that was bloated. His acting ranges from so flat you wonder if he was awake to so over the top you wonder if he was just powering through the scene so he could take a hit off the craft services table. I don’t know if I can blame him though. If I was saddled with a prop like the laser glove and it’s incredibly bad looking blue lasers, I don’t think I could muster up giving a crap either. Yet there’s something really shocking about his paycheck…er, I mean performance. He returned to the character the year after in the sequel Future Zone, which I read was the better of the two. It wouldn't take much for this to be true. 

So maybe they could save this flick with a dab of that social commentary I was looking for. Give us some overreaching moral lesson, and struggle get your point across or spell it out implicitly in case we‘re too dumb to notice(either way being in great b-movie tradition). So does Future Force pump up the subtext? Not a chance. This movie is at its core one of the most basic stories ever. Bad guys want to kill girl and hero won’t let them. That’s it. I think there was a large opportunity missed here, but the script by Prior and Thomas Baldwin barely achieves passable dialog so I was expecting too much.

I’m not going to waste all our time talking about the other actors in the film, all bad, the direction, clunky at best, and the effects, well; let’s just say they took special to new heights. In the end this film disappointed on all levels. I felt sure that I would encounter a film that could take on the “so bad it’s good" moniker, but instead I wish I had left Future Force in the past where it truly, truly belongs.

Bugg Rating

Tomb of Forgotten Film: There Was A Little Girl a.k.a Madhouse (1981)

Hello and welcome back to the Tomb. What are the chances after twin Van Cleefs that my next film would revolve around identical twins again? Well, they’re pretty good because today I have the tale of a couple of sisters who have a special bond, but unfortunately for one of them, the other needs to be in bonds. 

There Was A Little Girl [a.k.a Madhouse] (1981) starring Trish Everly, Michael MacRae, Dennis Robertson, and Allison Biggers. Directed by Ovidio G. Assonitis. 

Julia is a beautiful young teacher at a school for deaf children, and one afternoon her uncle, Father James, convinces her to visit her twin sister Mary in the mental institution where she is confined. Julia is terrified of her sister who used to torture her as a child, but she agrees to go. When she arrives to find her twin horribly disfigured and threatening to killer her, Mary regrets making the visit. Soon strange things begin to happen around Julia’s home, and she discovers that Mary has escaped from the hospital. 

The Bugg Picture

There Was a Little Girl is a film with a setting in the American south, it’s roots firmly planted in the Italian cinema director Assonitis was known for. Ovidio G. Assontis is perhaps best known as a producer of films such as Man from Deep River and American Ninja IV, but he did find the time to direct a few films including Beyond the Door and tonight’s feature, which he also wrote. There are definitely some of the earmarks of Italian horror cinema, flawed logic, shaky effects, and a score by Riz Ortolani who is best known for his Cannibal Holocaust. However, the film takes many stylistic tones from the Southern gothic surroundings. 

Filmed on location in Savannah, Georgia, the location itself definitely became part of the film. Julia’s home is located in The Kehoe House which, as is mentioned in the film, was once a funeral home. It does have a history of haunting which stems from a legend about twin children who were killed while playing in a chimney. It is said that all the chimneys in the house, which are shown many times in the film, were blocked up and decorated with angels to remember these children. If that was not enough, the house was owned at the time by none other than Broadway Joe Namath who was hoping to turn the property into a nightclub, but due to the protests of his neighbors, the project never came to fruition. At one point in the film there is a broadcast about an NFL player being given a hard time by his team mates for doing a Sassoon jeans commercial, and I can only assume that this was a nod to Namath’s own past and Beautymist pantyhose commercial.

One of the most surprising things about this film is the acting, and none more surprising than Trish Everly. Her turn as Julia was her one and only film role, and that’s really a shame. The weight of the film mostly rested on her, and she does a good job portraying the guilt and fear her role demanded. Also very good in the film was Dennis Robertson. The kindly Father James is not all he seems and became all the more creepy when I realized he resembled Ted Haggart, the evangelical preacher who became notorious for his connection to a gay prostitute and meth use. Robertson who played bit parts mostly in TV from 1964-1990 gives a very unsettling performance that is extremely convincing. Less convincing was Allison Biggers as the homicidal twin Mary. She shows up in very few scenes and when she does, there is not much to her role. I think the film could have been improved by making her character a bit more fully developed. 

Where the film really stumbles is its special effects. While they are effects, I’m not so sure they are particularly special. Most of the kills in the movie do not come at the hands of Mary, but rather at the paws of her dog, a vicious Rottweiler. Unfortunately while it is actually a dog in the long shots, in the close-ups it is replaced by a rubber dog head which looks more akin to Triumph the Insult Comedy Dog’s ugly brother. They try to keep it in the shadows, but by the time the dog meets its grisly end via a drill to the head, the effect has more than worn out its welcome. The few other kills are relatively bloodless, but there are some nicely made up “corpses” near the end of the film. All in all, I had to wonder why this film was slapped onto the Video Nasties list by the British government in 1984. 

The film making itself is nothing to write home about. The film moves at a laconic pace, and it could definitely have benefited by a tighter hand in the editing room. There are some striking shots, and Assonitis was working with veteran cinematographer Roberto Piazzoli who also worked on Cozzi’s Starcrash and Deodato’s Raiders of Atlantis. The shots in Julia’s home are the most well done, and they fully utilize the gothic architecture to build tension on the screen. 

While the acting in the film is fairly strong, there are too many other detractions in the film which leave it as a half baked attempt at best. For anyone in the market for an offbeat slasher, then check this one out. There was a little girl, who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead. When her film was good it was very good indeed, but when it was bad, it was horrid. 

Bugg Rating

Tomb of Forgotten Film: Hands of Steel (1985)

I want to give credit where credit is due. Tonight’s film is one I never would have heard of if it wasn’t for The Gentlemen’s Guide to Midnite Cinema. The Gentlemen’s Guide is a weekly pod cast devoted to all kinds of cult film and hosted by Big Willie and The Samurai, and back in episode 12 they reviewed this forgotten classic. I think it was Big Willie who had found a video tape copy of the film and from their review alone, I knew this was one I wanted to see. But how? This Sergio Martino effort was out of print and unless I found a copy on tape then I was out of luck. 

It was a few weeks later when the Gentlemen’s Guide hipped me to something else which was very cool, Cinema de Bizarre. Before they could even broadcast the first show with their discount code, I had already rushed over and made a purchase. Then a couple of weeks later they made an important announcement. CdB had obtained an incredible, crystal clear, widescreen version of the movie. I was elated, and I still am. So, I shot off an e-mail to CdB HQ, and he hooked me up with a copy. With that out of the way, I can bring you the film itself. If you only ever see one film about a cyborg assassin getting involved in the world of roadhouse arm wrestling, then see…

Hands of Steel [Italian: Vendetta dal futuro] (1986) starring Daniel Greene, John Saxon, George Eastman, Janet Argen, Claudio Cassinelli, Darwyn Swalve. Directed by Sergio Martino. 

Paco Queruak (Greene) is an assassin working for an evil foundation which seeks to take over the political structure of America. The foundation has poured tons of resources into Paco’s training, education, and body over the years, and now he is sent on his first mission as the perfect cyborg assassin. He is to seek out the extremely popular head of the reigning political party, Rev. Arthur Mosley, and dispatch him. Paco gets to the man with no problem and kills him with a swift blow from his robotic hands. Or at least he thinks that Mosley is dead. Paco has to make a hasty departure and escapes into the Arizona desert. 

After wandering for a while, Paco finds a bar owned by Linda (Argen) and offers to help around the place in exchange for a place to stay. He soon finds that while the bar is quiet by day, at night, it comes alive when passing truckers stop by for beers and to do a little arm wrestling. Paco soon faces neighborhood tough guy, Raoul (Eastman), and wins the match handily. Raoul soon brings in the tri-state champion to face Paco in a match where the loser will be bitten by a poisonous snake. Little does Paco know that the head of the foundation, Mr. Turner, and his hit men are out to punish Paco for failing his mission. They will stop at nothing to take out the killing machine they created, but Paco has had a taste of freedom and no longer will he be any man’s slave. 

The Bugg Picture

So there have been some great films that feature arm wrestling….well, I take that back. There’s been Over the Top, which I enjoy buy most do not, but while arm wrestling plays a minor part in Hands of Steel, it is those scenes that will stick with you long after you see the film. I was again pleasantly surprised to find a film which was as good as the hype around it (however insular that hype had been), and while many of the stylistic elements which gave Martino’s earlier films such an appeal are gone, there is much to like from the script, cast, and director. I’m going to go ahead and talk about the script for a second because while I loved it there is little I need to say. Hands of Steel is well paced, and its characters fairly well rounded for this type of film. While its cyborg plotline might well have been written to cash in on the success of 1984’s The Terminator. Some of the elements of the humanization of the cyborg character are more reminiscent of films which followed it such as T2 and Robocop. 

As for the cast, most of these people are familiar to fans of Italian cinema by reputation alone. First, though, a moment about The Saxon. Just a glance at John Saxon’s resume yields titles such as Nightmare on Elm Street, The Glove, The Last Samurai, Pelts, and The Girl Who Knew Too Much.  John plays the heavy here, and whether he’s in his palatial office, behind the controls of a helicopter, or trying to gun Paco down with a massive laser, Saxon's performance is pitch perfect. While the star of the film, Daniel Greene, has no where near the acting prowess of Saxon, Greene nevertheless carries the film quite well. While in any other flick his wooden acting might seem terrible, the man is a cyborg, his acting is not wooden it is so obviously made of steel! Though I must say for a man made of mostly cybernetic parts he seems awfully sweaty. Anyhow, Green, whose previous credits mostly included television roles, would go on top fill small roles is Arthur 2 and Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. These days Greene oddly enough seems to only pop up in cameo parts in the Farrelly brothers films. How Green and the Farrellys got hooked up I would love to know, but for now, it will have to remain a mystery. 

As the credits continue to roll, there’s George Eastman. I’ve talked a ton about Eastman lately with my review of Absurd and Anthropophagus. Eastman had previously worked with Martino on his 1983 post-apocalyptic opus 2019: After the Fall of New York, and in Hands of Steel, he makes an appearance as Raoul, the sore loser. Eastman is wonderfully wild eyed, and his attempt to capture and derail Paco from taking on the local champ is one of the film’s shining sequences. Also the broad accent that is given to Raoul allows for some unintentional humor such as when he declares himself a "weeiner". Then there’s Claudio Cassinelli. The veteran actor, who had appeared in Fulci’s  Murder Rock as well as Martino’s Big Alligator River and At the Mountain of the Cannibal God, sadly lost his life during the making of this film when a helicopter he was aboard crashed.  Finally there is Janet Argen as the woman who wooed the cyborg’s heart. She was quite lovely in the film, but her dubbing sounded a bit like someone was trying to go for a Kathleen Turner huskiness. While I got used to it, at first I wondered if Paco was not the only character in the film with after market parts. 

Martino has been a director that I have enjoyed since my first viewing of At the Mountain of the Cannibal God, and here he handles this action fare pretty well. As I stated before it was not as well shot as his earlier work although there were some shots of the desert locals that were very John Ford-esque. Martino was working here with long time cinematographer Giancarlo Ferrando, who paired with Sergio for some 35 films (as well as doing the same duties on Troll 2). I assume lower budgets, tighter shooting schedules, and differing genres may account for Hand’s of Steel’s lack of style, but it is pretty amazing to think that this film and a dazzling piece like Your Vice is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key come from the same eye. All that being said, if I did not know the director or cinematographer’s work, then I would say this is a fine example or a workmanlike mid-80’s action effort. 

Adding to the film is the sound track which was provided by Claudio Simonetti, the former keyboardist for the seminal Italian group Goblin. Naturally this means the soundtrack is synth heavy, but what else would you expect from an action movie from this era. There are a few really great tracks, and I have to add this one to the list of sound tracks that I wish I had. However, I would have to watch listening to it while driving, or I’m afraid I might get quite a few speeding tickets. 

So it’s time I get around to parting words about Hands of Steel, and yet there is so much more I would love to tell you about. Darwyn Swalve and the “Indian style” arm wrestling match. The hit man and his Silent Bob style partner. The adventures of the cops and Dr. Peckinpah. The scene where the truckers egg on Paco to arm wrestle by giving him a note on toilet paper, and Paco replying with his own note on a piece of marble counter top he rips off. Yeah. It’s that kind of film. Once you see it you just want more and more folks to check it out. Some may scoff at my grade and think it quite high for a film like this, but for pure entertainment Hands of Steel is one of the best films out there. Sure it’s not Citizen Kane, but what Hands of Steel actually is is a piece of genre film that any lover of action or Italian cinema should own. 

Bug Rating 

Tomb of Forgotten Film: White Line Fever (1975)

Heya folks and welcome back to the Tomb. I’m reaching deep into the vaults to draw out an 18 wheeler classic. That’s right folks we’re talking Truck-spoitation. Before I get into tonight’s films I want to say that I have a deep love for trucker films. I’m sure it started was a lad when I loved films like Smokey and the Bandit and BJ and the Bear on TV. When I got a bit older and found out about Peckinpah, I went around his catalog and found many great films, and much to my surprise they included the trucker film that’s almost as fun as its theme song, Convoy. Recently, I caught one I’d never even heard of when I saw Breaker, Breaker with Chuck Norris. Sadly the trucks played a small part in the film, but it did pay off when a gang of trucks attacked a town. Each of these films had a different view of “the trucker life” so romanticized in the late seventies when it came to popularity alongside with Outlaw Country, Urban Cowboys, and CB‘s. I think I have finally stumbled on what will become my favorite of the genre. So get on your Trucker Hats, roll up the sleeves to your best washed out work shirt, slap a little bit of grease on yourself randomly and enjoy the smooth ride as we get….
White Line Fever (1975) starring Jan Michael Vincent, Kay Lenz, Slim Pickens, L.Q. Jones, Sam Laws, Don Porter, Dick Miller, Martin Kove. Directed by Jonathan Kaplan.

Carroll Jo Hummer (Vincent) thinks he’s going to just buy himself a rig and become an owner/operator running loads around Arizona. So with his wife, Jerri Kane (Lenz), he buys himself a 38 thousand dollar rig, and after a custom paint job, he christens it the ‘Blue Mule’. Right away Carroll Jo begins to pick up jobs, but after rebuffing work from a crooked shipper, Duane Haller (Pickens), he begins to find out about the dark side of trucking. To knock some sense into him, Haller dispatches a couple of thugs to provide a beating to Hummer while he’s handcuffed to his rig.

Carroll Jo finds himself unable to get work anywhere and takes matters into his own hands. He shows up and Duane’s office, with a shotgun in hand, and demands to see Haller’s boss Buck (Jones). Carroll Jo uses his “persuasion” techniques to get a job, but he ends up no better. The jobs he gets all turn out to be impossible missions, usually because of the interference of Buck and Duane’s thugs. Soon Carroll Jo begins to build support for his cause, and someone take it upon themselves to run down Buck. Naturally, Hummer is the prime suspect and taken off to jail where he narrowly misses being convicted. Upon his release, Carroll Jo soon learns that an evil corporation is behind all the dirty dealing in the trucking world. So what other choice do he and his fellow truckers have, but to take the fight to The Man.

The Bugg Picture 

 
Let me start right off with a few, ok, more than a few, words about the cast we have here. First off we’re talking JMV in his prime. Some nine years before he would become something of a big name with Airwolf, Vincent throws down not only a pretty fine display of acting skill but also the chops to sell the fight scenes. White Line Fever revolves 100% around his character and there is very little screen time without his presence, and surprisingly after I finished watching the film I instantly wished there was more to this character’s story. While many people may see this film as another variation of the Walking Tall or Billy Jack formula, the performances from Vincent and the other lead actors give this film much more depth than one would expect. So it would be dismissive of the film to assume it was just a mere clone.

Now onto the other leads, and it reads like a Who’s Who of genre film actors. First off you’ve got Kay Lenz as Carroll Jo’s wife, Jerri Kane. Lenz was a veteran of films such as American Graffiti where she appears as the girl Ron Howard‘s Steve dances with. Strangely enough, Howard and Lenz also co-starred in one episode of The Andy Griffith Show. She would also go on to become a frequent bit player on tons of TV shows and also providing the voice for American Maid in the animated Tick cartoon. In White Line Fever, Lenz is cute as a button and looks the prefect ‘70’s down home trucker wife. Her chemistry with Jan Michael is one of the things that give the film the authentic feeling which really sells the story.

I hate to keep going on about the cast so I’ll make a few of these short. Dick Miller, you know him, you love him, and he’s been in everything. Don’t think you know who he is, well, you do. Slim Pickens. All I need to say is Dr. Strangelove. A word about L.Q Jones. He’s got The Wild Bunch and Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid on his resume, but where I knew him from was as the Vegas councilman who tries to get Joe Bob Briggs his job back in Casino. Here the very young, blonde and very mustachioed Jones was second only to Vincent for sheer entertainment to watch. But wait there’s more, how does Martin Cove hit you. That’s right the Cobra Kai sensei showing up here as one of the thugs, a thug named Clem to be exact. Even the small roles tend to have someone interesting in them. The prosecutor who goes after Carroll Jo for Duane’s death is R.G Armstrong who some may recognize from roles in The Red Headed Stranger, Lone Wolf McQuade, and his turn on Millennium.

So needless to say it was a powerhouse cast, but director Jonathan Kaplan was no slouch either. Having just come off directing the much acclaimed Isaac Hayes film, Truck Turner, he teamed up with cinematographer Fred J. Koenekamp, the Director of Photography for Patton. The result is a flick which has a much in common with seventies cinema as it did John Ford. Many of the shots are stunningly realized, and the scenes involving the Rigs are filmed in such a way that it delivers the sense of power these machines have. That is one other thing about the film that Kaplan and co-writer Ken Friedman got very right. Instead of films such as Convoy or Smokey and the Bandit which mainly feature full on 18 wheels of fury, White Line Fever concentrates most of it’s time focused on the rig. As this is the story of an owner/operator making a stand against the corporation I think this makes good sense. After all, a trucker with a load on his back is just an employee.

So needless to say I really liked this one, and it goes to the top of my list of truck-sploitation flicks, and pretty high up there with cult movies overall. I’m going to try and be as realistic about my rating as I can. Personally for me this is a 5. It’s a solid film which I will want to watch time and time again, but I’m going to shave a bit off of that to account for my enthusiasm not just for the film, but for the sub-genre as well. That being said, if you only see one film about the fight of one trucker going up against the big corporation, make it White Line Fever. 

Bugg Rating

This one is kind of hard to find so check out Cinema de Bizarre if you want to pick it up.