Thursday, June 19, 2008Pirates of Blood River Release Year: 1962Country: England Starring: Kerwin Mathews, Christopher Lee, Andrew Keir, Glenn Corbett, Marla Landi, Michael Ripper, Peter Arne, Oliver Reed, Jack Stewart, Marie Devereux, Desmond Llewelyn. Writer: Jimmy Sangster Director: John Gilling Cinematographer: Arthur Grant Music: Gary Hughes Producer: Anthony Nelson Keys Availability: Buy it from Amazon Promote It: Digg | del.icio.us After taking several years off, the 1950s saw the return of the pirate movie, thanks largely to the efforts of Walt Disney. In 1950, Disney produced a colorful, fast-paced, and smartly written adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson's classic adventure tale, Treasure Island. Two non-Disney sequels -- the directly related Long John Silver and the dubiously connected Return to Treasure Island -- followed in 1954, and a TV series came out in 1955. Plus, it seemed like every other episode of "The Wonderful World of Disney" featured either pirates or kids in coonskin caps solving a mystery in a spot called Pirate's Cove. Along similar lines, Disney released a classic version of Jules Verne's 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, and in 1958, the first of the Sinbad films featuring special effects by Ray Harryhausen showed up. While these last two weren't pirate movies per se, they still had the air of old fashioned high seas adventure and swashbuckling about them. So someone at England's Hammer Studios, possibly Anthony Nelson Keys or Michael Carreras, walks up to screenwriter Jimmy Sangster and says to him, "Jimmy, old boy, we want to make a pirate film, and we want you to write it." Sangster, fresh off the astounding success of his scripts for Hammer's most famous films -- Horror of Dracula, The Mummy, and Curse of Frankenstein, among others, excitedly agrees. It'll be fun to bring the Hammer style into the realm of swashbuckling pirate movies. Sangster's mind is undoubtedly already formulating a story when Keys and/or Carreras adds, "Only here's the thing: we don't have any money for a boat, so don't write a script that features a pirate ship."
A pirate movie without a pirate ship? Sangster, by his own admission, was somewhat baffled by the whole idea. Of course, pretty much every pirate movie sets a good deal of its action on land. Errol Flynn's Captain Blood spends at least as much time on land as he does standing in heroic poses at the wheel of a ship, yelling "avast" and "me hearties." But he does spend time standing in heroic poses at the wheel of a ship, yelling "avast" and "me hearties." And his films feature plenty of ship-to-ship action, raids, and cannon fire. Ditto the Disney films. Plenty of on-land action, but also plenty of ship-to-ship shenanigans. It's hard to believe that even the tiny budgets within which the average Hammer Studio film had to operate couldn't be stretched in some way to come up with a pirate ship for their pirate movie, since hard to believe that anyone would make a pirate movie without a ship. But no. Sangster's task remained the same: write a pirate movie without a pirate ship. By 1962, Hammer had become synonymous with horror films, even though the studio's output before the release of the above-mentioned "big three" delved into pretty much every genre, as most studios would. But once Dracula, the Mummy, and Frankenstein were released, it was all about Hammer horror. Any other type of production was pushed to the back burner, both by the studio itself and by the public, who proved in those early days to have a near insatiable appetite for the lurid, colorful style of sex and blood Hammer routinely used to outrage critics and members of the decency police. But the desire remained, however flickering, to make sure Hammer didn't become just a horror factory, and doing a period piece pirate film seemed like a nice fit. They could recycle most of the props and costumes from their other films. And although they weren't horror films, pirates lent themselves to easy adaptation to horror film tropes, what with all the skulls and creeping about and stabbing each other that went on in them. They just couldn't have a boat, although they were afforded a few seconds of stock footage of someone else's boat to show during the credits.
In some ways, perhaps, this rather large restriction ended up helping Sangster, because the end result is a cracking good adventure story in which you barely even notice that the pirates never set foot onto a ship. Onto a raft, yes, but never a ship. I'd expect no less from Sangster, who is, in my opinion,easily one of the best screenwriters who ever entered the business. Unable to fall back on pirate movie standards like the cannon battle and a scene of guys with swords clenched in their teeth swinging from one ship to another, the harried screenwriter delivers instead a landlocked pirate film that, in many ways, plays out like an American western, albeit one with far more men adorned with a variety of colorful silk scarves. American Kerwin Mathews -- Sinbad in The 7th Voyage of Sinbad -- stars as fiery young Jonathon Standing, the member of a Huguenots settlement on a remote island somewhere that I don't think is ever clearly defined. The Huguenots were basically the early Protestants, frequently at odds with Catholic kings and churches and prone to being persecuted and going to war with dominant Catholics throughout the 1500s, well into the 1600s. The island settlement, then, is one of relative secrecy, and it is lorded over by a council of religious elders who dole out law based on strict Protestant interpretations of the The Bible. This apparently worked well for many years, but by the time Jonathon Standing comes around to make out with buxom Hammer glamour regular Marie Devareaux, the council has become largely corrupt, creating tension throughout the townsfolk, who feel that the elders have given in to petty power obsessions and greed rather than dictating the word of God. Jonathan's own father is the head of the council, but even if some vestige of an honest and noble man still exists within old Jason Standing (Andrew Kier, actually the same age as Kerwin Mathews), he is too weak-willed against the other members of the council for it to matter. In fact, when Jonathan himself violates the rules of the town by comforting the abused wife of one of the council members, Jason condemns the popular young man to hard labor in the colony's prison -- a virtual death sentence, we learn. The conviction of Jonathan only serves to make the crowds angrier, but like most angry crowds, there is much muttering beneath the breath and complaining, but no one is quite ready yet to take up the torches and pitchforks.
In prison, Jonathan fares poorly, as his popularity with hoi polloi makes him a target of the sadistic guards. So it isn't long after his clothes have been reduced to prison regulation tatters that he escapes, leading his captors on a wild chase through the island's swamps before coming face to face with Count Dracula! Well, with venerated horror film icon Christopher Lee, here playing French pirate captain LaRoche and sporting a deformed hand and an eyepatch. LaRoche makes about as nice as a ruthless, cold-hearted pirate can and cuts a deal with Jonathan. In exchange for the Huguenots not telling anyone LaRoche and his crew use the cove as a rest stop, LaRoche will...actually, I sort of forgot what his end of the bargain was. It doesn't really matter, because as soon as Jonathan leads them toward the settlement, the pirates start killing and making demands about a treasure they claim is hidden within the town. Jonathan knows they are mad, that there is no treasure, but that doesn't stop the motley band of cutthroats from laying siege to the town. The townsfolk rally to their own defense and seem to be holding their own for a while, but their wooden walls were meant to defend against wild animals and jungle critters, not well-armed pirates. LaRoche and his gang soon capture the town, promising to hang people until the elders give up the treasure. It's up to Jonathan and his young friends to wage a guerrilla style war against the occupiers, culminating in a fairly unsurprising revelation about the alleged treasure and the giant statue of the town founder and a fairly exciting duel between Jonathan and LaRoche.
Despite the lack of a pirate ship, Pirates of Blood River has a tremendous amount going for it. Chief among its many assets is the cast, buoyed by a likable Kerwin Mathews and an exceptional venerated horror film icon Christopher Lee, who gets to stretch his acting chops a little more than usual in the role of LaRoche. Lee was a big star by 1962, but two of his biggest roles had been entirely speechless, and one afforded him like three lines and five minutes of screen time. He was known, therefore, far more for the characters he played than he was as venerated horror film icon Christopher Lee the actor. Pirates of Blood River lets him come out from behind the bandages, scar make-up, and fangs and, in their place, wear an eye patch and speak with a French accent. LaRoche is a good character, one that interests viewers because it's obvious that there is much more to the him than we are ever allowed to discover. How did he lose his eye? What happened to his hand? How did he become a pirate? Why is he so haunted and determined? None of these questions are ever answered, and that allowed LaRoche to be interesting without being over-exposed. We are teased with his mysterious past, but it's never demystified for us. Free from the fetters of playing a creature, venerated horror film icon Christopher Lee seems to really be giving it his all, channeling perhaps Basil Rathbone's backstabbing French pirate from Captain Blood. He also handles the swordplay well. The duel between he and Mathews is excellent, and even though he is tall and lanky and playing a guy with one eye and a gnarled arm, you never really doubt that venerated horror film icon Christopher Lee could whup you if he wanted to.
Propping up the pirate end of things are some of Hammer's most reliable supporting players, including Michael Ripper in a rare non-innkeeper role. Here he is LaRoche's supposed best friend, though it's obvious LaRoche doesn't consider anyone a friend. Ripper really gets to ham it up, speaking with a bombastic uber-pirate style that would make Long John Silver himself proud. Also int he cast of scalawags is a young Oliver Reed, though he's not really around terribly long. The entire crew tears into their roles with joyous abandon, as merry and drunk as they are threatening and violent. On the other side of the fence is another set of villains: the town elders. Just as ruthless, just as greedy, only far more devious about it. Caught in between these two forces are Jonathan and the townspeople who respect him as a voice of reason and proponent of liberty. It's very much a "freaks versus the squares" cultural battle and not unlike what we would see a few years later in Mario Bava's Danger Diabolik: hip young people caught between two opposing yet similar monoliths of status quo society. For Diabolik, it was a corrupt government and organized crime; for Jonathan, it is a corrupt theocracy and a bunch of pirates. In the end, neither side appeals to our free spirits, and they chose to reject them both. Hammer often found itself in trouble with religious authorities because of the content of their films. They usually weaseled their way out of it at the last second by having Peter Cushing clutch a Bible or something, thus proving that the film was good and moral. In the case of The Pirates of Blood River, despite the absence of a Frankenstein monster, screenwriter Jimmy Sangster really gets to lash out against religious intolerance and hypocrisy. The elders start out kind of jerky, and then you think maybe Jonathan's father will have some sort of a change of heart at some point. But he only gets worse, and he is willing to see every single person in the town butchered rather than give up the treasure about which only he knows. In the end, he gets his just desserts, as does the dastardly LaRoche, leaving Jonathan to start society anew.
Although this was a decidedly non-horror adventure film, there are still horrific elements in the movie, as there would be in other of Hammer's subsequent pirate movies. The opening sequence, in which Jonathan is discovered making out with a married woman, is probably the film's most horrific scene. Pursued through the swamp by vengeful town elders, the poor woman stumbles into the titular Blood River, which happens to be infested with piranhas. As originally filmed, the poor girl screams and thrashes about as blood bubbles up all around her. The piranhas themselves are wonderfully realized by nothing more than having rapidly moving ripples spread out across the water. Hammer wanted the film to receive a much more family friendly rating, in the spirit of increased returns and inspired no doubt by the exciting but family-friendly Disney pirate films. The scene was eventually cut down to remove the blood, and then restored years later for the film's long-awaited debut on DVD. It's a chilling scene, and director John Gilling plays it wise by letting the imagination do most of the work. The screaming and the blood is graphic enough. He doesn't undercut the power of the moment by cutting to a shot of a rubber piranha. I do regret, however, that they don't cap the scene with a shot of a perfectly intact, bleach white plastic skeleton bobbing to the surface. That's always classy. But I guess Hammer was saving all their skeleton-related pirate hijinks for Night Creatures. I don't know what other cuts Hammer made to the film that have since been restored. The sword wounds are all pretty bloody. Not Lone Wolf and Cub geyser of blood bloody, but when a guy gets impaled, the sword on which he was impaled comes back all covered in grue. Still, I suppose that's about as family friendly as Hammer was capable of being, and it's family friendly enough for me. i don't come from the school of thought that maintains all children's fare must be bloodless, harmless, and never ever scare the wee ones. I'd much rather take my family to see Pirates of Blood River than a movie where a sass-talking CGI animal learns a skill that helps him win a contest while referencing pop culture.
That does bring us to another of the film's sundry assets: director John Gilling. By all accounts, Gilling was difficult to work with even under the best circumstances. In the case of Pirates of Blood River, it seems he was nearly intolerable. Gilling wasn't meant to be the director originally, but the man they'd assigned to the job had been in a spot of trouble with the American Un-Activities Committee, that embarrassment of a Congressional organization that spent so much time and money trying to ferret out commies and liberals int he motion picture industry. Kerwin Mathews was nervous about working with such a man, fearing that the long arm of stupidity would reach him even in England and ruin his career back home. Not that, by 1962, Mathews had much of a career. But it was enough that the supposedly bankable American was uncomfortable, so the director was replaced by an unenthusiastic John Gilling. As a director, coming into a production for which there is already a script, a cast, a crew, and sets is usually thought to be rather an unenviable situation, and Gilling wasn't shy about letting his displeasure be known. Still, however big a jerk he might have been on set, the end results were usually fantastic. That was certainly the case in 1966, when he directed one of my favorite Hammer horror films, Plague of the Zombies. And it's the case with this film as well. Pirates of Blood River, even without a ship, is a fast-paced, well-made adventure tale. As cranky as Gilling may have been, there's no doubt that he still put himself into making the best possible movie he could. Released in 1962, it'd be a little disingenuous to claim that the movie was influenced by something like Vietnam, even though there is a definite counter-culture air about the story. More than likely, and as I alluded to earlier, the film was influenced both by previous pirate films and by Westerns. The Huguenot settlement, with it's rough-hewn wooden walls, has the look of a pioneer fort. And the pirates laying siege to it is reminiscent of Western movie Indians doing the same. However, at some point in the film, the roles are reversed, and the pirates become the victims of hit and run warfare waged by Jonathan and his band of fighters who, despite being outmanned and outgunned, use their intimate knowledge of the jungle around them to pick the pirates off a few at a time, leaving the brigands harried, demoralized, and eventually, mutinous. That the pirates are French only supplies another link to the emerging conflict in Vietnam, but as Sangster has never mentioned this in an interview, I think it's more a case of coincidence and hindsight equipping us with the ability to infuse the film with influences and meanings that aren't there. Still, it's kind of fun, and it keeps film studies professors in business and away from actual film work, where they would do untold amounts of damage with their crackpot experimental videos.
So make a pirate movie, they told Jimmy Sangster, one in which the only time the pirates are in the water is when they board a poorly made raft that sinks shortly after being launched. Whatever the challenges may have been, he pulled it off. And Hammer pulled it off. The Pirates of Blood River was well received by audiences, and in true Hammer fashion, that meant they would do their best to milk the popularity for as long as they could. Over the next couple of years, Hammer produced several more pirate films, usually with the same cast. They even sprang for a mock ship for one of the films, and they intended to recycle it for other pirate films until it caught on fire. Captain Clegg, also known as Night Creatures, was released in 1962 as well and continued the Hammer style of making pirate movies set entirely on land. In 1963 came The Scarlet Blade (the only Hammer pirate film that, as of this writing, remains unavailable on DVD). And in 1964, with The Devil Ship Pirates, they finally sprang for that mock-up of a ship, even though that film, like the others, takes place largely on land and sets. But that was about it for Hammer pirate movies. The ship accidentally caught on fire and thus couldn't be reused (though the burning was incorporated into the film). As if that accident signified something more, production of Hammer swashbucklers more or less came to a close with that film as the studio focused itself almost entirely on horror films. So while it may not have the panache of an Errol Flynn movie or the budget of a Disney live action film,and while it may not have a pirate ship in it, The Pirates of Blood River is still a solid adventure tale, with plenty of action, a dependable cast, and a look that fools you into thinking this is a much higher budget film than it actually is. It's nice to see these old Hammer swashbucklers getting some attention. Now if someone would only get around to releasing the rest of their caveman adventure movies and Moon Zero Two, I'd be a happy lad. ![]() Labels: Action: Adventure, Pirates, Series: Oceans Against Us, Stars: Christopher Lee, Studio: Hammer, Year: 1962 posted by Keith at 5:41 AM | 4 Comments Wednesday, July 20, 2005Girls! Girls! Girls!
1962, United States. Starring Elvis Presley, Stella Stevens, Jeremy Slate, Laurel Goodwin, Benson Fong, Robert Strauss, Guy Lee, Frank Puglia, Lili Valenty, Beulah Quo. Directed by Norman Taurog.
It would only be a matter of time before we once again saw Elvis frolicking on the sands of Waikiki in those little swimming trunks that were so popular back in the day. Elvis managed to pack three more movies into a single year when 1962 saw him star as a good-natured buffoon in the little-talked-about Follow That Dream, take on the role of a boxer in a remake of the 1937 Edward G. Robinson film Kid Galahad, and mount a not-entirely-triumphant return to surf and sand in Girls! Girls! Girls! Elvis plays his usual character: a young guy looking to make it on his own. In this case, he's Ross Carpenter, captain of a charter fishing boat owned by a kindly Eastern European couple. Ross harbors dreams of one day having enough money to be able to purchase the sleek sailboat he and his late father built together, which was later sold to the same Eastern European couple. They are kind enough to let Ross take the boat out for a spin whenever he wants and even live on it, but when one of the couple falls ill, they must move to a dryer climate and sell off their boats - including Ross' dream. A rude businessman comes into the picture as a potential buyer, and Elvis woos a young woman who he doesn't realize is rich enough to buy the boat for him - not that his pride would ever allow him to accept such an offer. Any attempt to do so simply triggers one of the patented "I gotta make it on my own" speeches that were de rigueur for Elvis movies. That's about as much of a plot as you could hope for in a post-Blue Hawaii Elvis movie. Every movie cast him as a down-on-his-luck outcast with a tough exterior and a heart of gold, who just needs to devise one ingenious plan to make his humble dreams come true.
Girls! Girls! Girls! wastes no time getting Elvis to sing. The opening credits see The King perched precariously on the front of his speeding fishing boat, snapping his fingers and belting out the theme song with full accompaniment by the phantom band that seemed to follow him around in all his movies to provide back up music to his singing, no matter how rustic and remote the setting for the song may be. The song isn't especially bad, but it's not especially good either, which describes most of the songs in the film. Only "Return to Sender" stands out among the crowd of otherwise forgettable tunes, including the puzzling "Song of the Shrimp," a heartfelt ballad about a little shrimp who valiantly gives his life up in order to make a bowl of shrimp creole taste just right. Elvis does a lot of the "finger snap and wiggly hand shake" stuff this time around, and it's odd once again seeing him perform for delighted middle aged onlookers when he was previously considered so taboo by the same. It's almost as if their smiles aren't smiles of appreciation, but are instead victorious sneers generated by the fact that they won. They took Elvis and tamed him. Elvis sings a lot, as he tended to do, even more so than in Blue Hawaii. At least in that film, they'd always put a couple lines of dialogue between songs. There are times here where Elvis goes from one musical number to the next without so much as a word in between to break things up. When he's forced to take a job as a nightclub singer to help raise money to buy back his boat, he gets to sing even more. It's in the nightclub setting that he comes into frequent contact with a former flame with a huge chip on her shoulder, played by the drop-dead beauty Stella Stevens. She has absolutely nothing to do here other than snap at Elvis, pout, and, well, I guess that's about all she has to do here. Her character has no point. There's no spot in the movie where she has a sudden realization or does something that redeems or even explains her character's presence. She just shows up from time to time to nag Elvis for a while, then walks off. The focal point of Elvis' attention is Laurel Goodwin as Laurel Dodge, a rich girl pretending to be poor so she can find true love - to bad she never met up with Elvis' character from Clambake (where he plays a rich boy pretending to be poor in order to find true love). Laurel's acting job is adequate and her character has more meat to it than Stella's, but she's still pretty boring. I guess the producers of an Elvis film wanted to fill them with beautiful ladies to attract the guys, but not make them so interesting that female audience members couldn't turn up their noses and think, "What does he see in her?" Incidentally, for a movie called Girls! Girls! Girls! and featuring a theme song about how Elvis runs wild chasing the skirts, there are only two in the movie, at least up until the finale when girls come out of the woodwork for no reason other than it's the big film-closing musical number. Another of the problems with Girls! Girls! Girls! comes from the attempts in all of Elvis' films to bring him down off the mountain and pass him off as just a regular Joe with regular Joe problems. Elvis came from this background, and he has enough charm and natural charisma that you're willing to go with the flow and accept him as a down-on-his-luck fisherman who just needs a break. But every time he opens his mouth to sing, Elvis' voice comes out. This is not the voice of a struggling musician, and Elvis' real life is the perfect example of why this just doesn't work. He was poor and struggling, but when he opened his mouth and started singing, it wasn't long before he skyrocketed to fame. It's hard to imagine a guy that can sing like that performing for a crowd of twenty in some dockside nightclub. Wouldn't word eventually get around that a guy with a voice that could make him the next king of rock 'n' roll was performing down at the wharf?
But I guess part of the fun with Elvis movies is believing that he can have normal problems just like the rest of us. Hey! If Elvis has girl troubles and works a crappy job for a jerk of a boss, then my life must not be so bad either! Sure I may not have his hair, or his looks, or his signing voice, or his undeniable charisma and Southern Boy charm, but other than that we're a lot alike. But these are the least of Girls! Girls! Girls! offenses. First and foremost on the list of crimes is the inclusion of the Chinese family who inhabit Ross' beloved Paradise Cove. What you have here is an attempt by the filmmakers to provide the film with believable, human characters that don't pander to the Hollywood stereotype of Asians, which at the time was confined primarily to Suzie Wong types and Japanese kamikaze pilots. Their hearts were in the right place when they tried to create a sympathetic Asian family who treat Ross (Elvis!) like their own son. Again, shades of Elvis' real life shine through the material here, since he was very close to black musicians and his black housekeeper. Unfortunately, their hearts were in the right place but they were still woefully wrong-headed in their approach, not unlike Elvis who, despite his appreciation for blacks and their music, never did much to promote them as the source for his inspiration, keeping them in his shadow or making food at Graceland. His heart was in the right place, but a man in his position could have, probably should have, done more. Rather than learn anything about what actual Chinese families and customs might be like, the scriptwriters apparently turned to the age-old nonsense of Rogers and Hammerstein musicals. Thus, every moment of dignity is undermined a scene later when "oriental" music begins and two little girls do that thing where they smile big, waggle their head, fold their arms in front of them, and shuffle around taking those tiny little baby steps. Did anyone in the history of China every do this? I know some of those old dresses were a bit confining and women took small steps, but this is ridiculous. You never saw Bruce Lee do that. And did Chinese Americans really address everyone as "honorable mother" or "honorable father" or "honorable king of rock and roll who just wants to make it as a fisherman?" It's telling that almost all the Asian actors who appear in the Paradise Cove scenes were extras (no one is going to shell out for stars like Nancy Kwan) in 1961's Flower Drum Song, another attempt by non-Asian filmmakers (or playwrights, I suppose) to accurately portray Asian culture. Both Flower Drum Song and Girls! Girls! Girls! get points for trying, especially since it was such a rarity to see any film at all that attempted to deal with Asians as something more than laundromat owners or cooks, but a little more attention to reality and a little less to the pageantry of musicals would have made for a much better experience. Nothing on display in Girls! Girls! Girls! is so outrageous as to send someone into a fit of anger, but there are definitely some moments where you have to roll your eyes. The film mercifully avoids the "flied lice" linguistic humor, but there are enough "ah so!" moments in the film to really make a lad wince. I wince not so much because it's another example of Asian culture warped through the lens of ignorant American cinema. I wince because you can tell despite the gong music that the writers were trying really hard to avoid all the stereotypes and racial pitfalls, but they just didn't succeed. On the flipside, where else are you going to hear Elvis Presley sing in Chinese and watch him do the little walk? Elvis' acting is about par for the course. The material doesn't work for him as well as it did in Blue Hawaii, and from time to time we get glimpses of his weaknesses in front of the camera. He still oozes charm and sex appeal though, and since his heart was still in the game in this point, that's enough to carry him to an enjoyable if not shining performance. This movie also lacks the top-notch supporting cast of Blue Hawaii, but no one here is awful. Jeremy Slate as Wesley Johnson, the scummy businessman who buys Elvis' dream boat out from under him, is as rotten as a character can be without actually being evil. As far as smarmy businessmen jerks go, he's got it nailed. Stella Stevens and Laurel Goodwin we've covered already. Stella went on to appear in the Matt Helm spy spoof The Silencers alongside Dean Martin, The Poseidon Adventure, and has worked and continues to work steadily since then. Goodwin all but disappeared shortly after her role here. She made a couple more movies, appeared in "The Cage" episode of Star Trek, and that seems to be about it. Benson Fong and Beulah Quo as Mr. And Mrs. Yung lead the Asian cast (which also consists of Guy Lee, who starred as the horribly named Ping Pong in Blue Hawaii, and child actors Ginny, Elizabeth, and Alexander Tiu). Scenes between the adults are not bad at all, and anyone who has spent time in a Chinese household will recognize that the film's more authentic moments come amid the banter between these two. It's only when the kids come running on screen that the film breaks out the Chinese pajamas and goofy music. The kids aren't bad as actors, though about all they do here is giggle and sing.
Taurog's direction this time out is fairly uninspired. Competent but uninspired - a description that seems fitting for an Elvis movie. There's very little of his sweeping love affair with Hawaii as seen in Elvis' last Polynesian adventure. The direction attempts to reflect Ross Carpenter's (remember, that's who Elvis plays!) bum situation. Frankly, I'd prefer if the film opened up a little and wasn't so studio-bound, but I guess with so many films being produced so quickly, they had to cut costs somewhere, and the somewhere this time out was the scenery. Though the promotional material references Elvis being back in Hawaii, there's little on display to clue you in to the location. Most of the action takes place on board a boat, in a nightclub, or down at the docks. It might as well be New Orleans with all the seedy wharf nightclubs and shrimp boat fishing. Director Norman Taurog would indulge himself endlessly in sweeping travelogue photography for both Blue Hawaii and 1966's Paradise Hawaiian Style, but that sort of pandering to dramatic scenery is missing here. Only the sequences set in Paradise Cove have any Hawaiian feel to them. I guess he figured it was too soon after Blue Hawaii to do another Blue Hawaii, and by 1966 he figured again it was long enough after Blue Hawaii to do another Blue Hawaii. The Paradise Cove set is a lovely mix of Hawaiian tropics and Chinese decor, but one location can't make up for all the dull nightclubs and office interiors. The boating scenes aren't anything to write home about either, and they look as if they were concentrating mostly on simply not falling off the boat. The camera bobs and shakes dramatically with the waves, which is why for key scenes we get everything acted out on a set with rear projection of the ocean. Rear projection is just something you expect from an older film, especially when someone is driving or water skiing. Girls! Girls! Girls! is light and inoffensive fair, save of course for a few ill-advised moments involving those Chinese kids. There's no brilliant movie here, that's for sure, but while it may lack the qualities that make a film impressive, Girls! Girls! Girls! is still pretty entertaining. Elvis looks good, the story is okay, and everything is pretty breezy and fun despite the film's flaws. Even if Elvis harbored dreams of becoming a real actor, everyone else involved with the film never attempted to make anything other than a goofball musical comedy. So that's exactly what you get here. There are better examples of the genre, but there are also examples that are a whole lot worse. That may not sound like much of a ringing endorsement, but if you're looking for nothing more than silly fun in the sun, this movie will deliver. Additional points are added for its attempts to combat Asian stereotypes, but then they lose those points again for indulging in musical numbers that pander to those same stereotypes. Big points get awarded for the finale, Elvis Presley's Cavalcade of Girls, which sees Elvis return to Paradise Cove for a show-closing musical number in which girls from all over the world, wearing everything from hula skirts to Capri pants to slinky cheongsams come out to go-go dance with The King. And if that isn't enough, Elvis sings in Chinese and sings that ballad about the brave little shrimp. It would be some time before they'd send Elvis to the Hawaiian well for a third time, and by then it was more of a desperation move to revitalize interest in the films.
Labels: Beach Party Tonight, Musicals, Stars: Elvis, Year: 1962 posted by Keith at 11:33 AM | 1 Comments Tuesday, September 14, 2004The Premature Burial
1962, United States.Starring Ray Milland, Hazel Court, Richard Ney, Heather Angel, Alan Napier, John Dierkes, Dick Miller. Directed by Roger Corman. Available on DVD (Amazon).
After the runaway success of House of Usher and Pit and the Pendulum, Corman was growing dissatisfied with his AIP contract. He had proven to be a profitable director, and now he was a critically acclaimed director as well. His two films had more or less single-handedly lifted the reputation of AIP out of the realm of the drive-in circuit and established them as a genuine studio that made genuine movies with genuine class. Corman's two Poe films also lifted the flagging reputation of horror, which since its heyday at Universal during the 1930s had sunk lower and lower until it was basically considered schlock, then almost replaced entirely by science-fiction and Communist paranoia films. Hammer's Dracula and Frankenstein movies had gone a long way to revitalizing the horror genre, but Corman's Poe films undoubtedly contributed a great deal to solidifying the resuscitation, at broad but especially in the United States where theater owners were proud to see that yep, we could make 'em just as good here as they could over there. So while Corman was basically getting along with AIP head honchos Sam Arkoff and John Nicholson, he thought that maybe in light of his more or less revolutionizing the way he, the studio, and horror films were regarded in America, he might be entitled to a better contract. AIP politely disagreed with him, and so Corman took himself and his idea for the third Poe film elsewhere. Because Vincent Price was under contract to AIP, he couldn't cast Price in the lead role, and so he set about looking for a new actor to fulfill the spotlight in his production of The Premature Burial. Corman eventually came up with Ray Milland. Milland was blissfully ignorant of the fact that one day in the future AIP was going to graft his head to Rosie Grier, and so he agreed to take on the Poe-perfect role of a man obsessed with the belief that he will be buried alive, as was his cataleptic father. Because Richard Matheson was also under contract to AIP, Corman turned to screenwriters Charles Beaumont (7 Faces of Dr. Lao) and Ray Russell (X: The Man with the X-Ray Eyes).
The essence of the films, however, came with Corman. Like the previous two films, The Premature Burial would come steeped in the signature atmosphere of the Poe films: billowing fog tumbling across eerie landscapes, tormented souls, a psychedelically-tinted nightmare sequence, creepy old houses, brooding characters, and as is obvious from the title, a thing or two about being buried alive. The day Corman was to begin principal photography, he was pleased to see Arkoff (or maybe Nicholson, or maybe both of them) show up on the set to wish him good luck despite the differences they'd had over Corman's new contract. Differences, hell! It turned out that AIP had just purchased the studio for which Roger Corman was making the picture, so it was going to be an AIP film after all. Granted it was too late to recast the lead, but Milland was still thought of as an Academy Award winning actor, and not as "the white guy from The Thing with Two Heads," so his casting in the lead was something to crow about, even if the part, like all other leads in the Poe films, was tailor-made for Vincent Price. Milland plays Guy Carrell, an upstanding and intelligent member of the gentry who has a small quirk in the form of a near crippling fear of being buried alive. Now no one wants to be buried alive, except maybe show-off escape artists and people competing for fifty bucks and a burger on the latest reality show, but Guy's fear of being entombed while still among the living goes way beyond the usual healthy fear of having dirt piled on top of you. So obsessed is he with the concept that it threatens to ruin his newly minted marriage to Emily Gault, who is played by Hammer Studios veteran Hazel Court (The Curse of Frankenstein, and she would appear later in two more Corman AIP Poe films, The Raven and The Masque of the Red Death) - and if you know Hazel Court, then you don't want to derail anything involving her in your bedchamber. Guy shuns his wife and friends in favor of building the most elaborate tomb ever devised. I'm not exactly certain what Guy's occupation is, but it must have something to do with being an architectural, engineering, and mechanical genius, because the failsafe tomb he constructs for himself is a marvel. If I set out to build my own premature-burial-proof tomb, it would probably end up looking like a couple of pieces of plywood nailed together with a hole cut in the back so I can crawl out if I should happen to find myself mistaken for a corpse. Buy Guy's tomb is utterly lavish. In fact, it's seems even nicer than his home. It's comes stocked complete with a break-away coffin so that should one wake up and find oneself in such a pine box, one need only tap the side to have the whole thing spring open or fall to pieces. A variety of levers sound various alarms to let everyone know he's been mistakenly buried, just in case the half dozen or so escape hatches don't open. And should that happen and he has to wait for someone to her the bells, he can while away the hours reclining in plush overstuffed chairs, drinking brandy, and flipping through the tomb's selection of reading material. And should these ten thousand redundant escape plans all fail, he's also stocked the tomb with poison, so that when he's finished all his sausages and books, he can just kill himself rather than be bored. I've seen fewer failsafe devices on the nation's nuclear arsenal! Not that I've seen the nation's nuclear arsenal, but I can't imagine it's as well thought-out as Guy's crypt.
You'd think that would be the end of it, but various things keep happening to keep Guy preoccupied with being buried alive. Additionally, his wife and the local quack think that if he's ever going to make any progress in combating his phobia, he needs to, among other things, ditch the tomb. You'd think that since the tomb has brought him an unparalleled peace of mind, they'd just let it be. I mean, it is a nice crypt, after all, so why not keep it around? Even if he isn't buried alive, it'll be a swell place to just be buried regular and dead. This being a Corman Poe picture, it's no great leap to figure out that someone is plotting to use Guy's fear of premature burial to drive him mad and thus achieve some small sort of financial or property gain that hardly merits such a lavishly complex and psychologically difficult scheme. Some people would just whack him on the head with a candelabra and blame it on Colonel Mustard, but these people always have to construct intricate "drive them mad" intrigues that are as complicated as Guy's crypt. Like the previous two Poe films, The Premature Burial has a tendency to get bogged down beneath the weight of its own exposition-heavy plot. Unlike the previous two films, however, it doesn't have Vincent Price on hand to liven up the material. Milland gives it the ol' college try, but he seems lost with this type of material. Where as Price would have had no problem taking the script and making it work for him, Milland's portrayal comes across as excessively whiny at times and dreadfully dull at others. Still, at least Milland put effort into the role and manages a few strong scenes, which is more than could be said for the shameful display put on by Jason Robards when, some years later, he too found himself filling in for Vincent Price in a Poe film, that one being Gordon Hessler's Murders in the Rue Morgue. If nothing else, The Premature Burial proves that it wasn't just fan bias toward Vincent Price that kept Milland and the movie from earning a more cherished spot. Price was more than a fan favorite: he was an integral ingredient in making the films successful. Without him, it wasn't just that "things just aren't same." His absence from the Poe films very nearly causes them to cease being Poe films. Exactly why Price is so indispensable to Corman's Poe pictures is a little difficult to explain, but if you see them, well then you just understand. Part of it, naturally, has to do with the fact that Price was a marvel at turning a bad script into a good movie, and while the script for The Premature Burial isn't bad per se, it is perhaps something much worse: dull. Corman pours on the atmosphere - there is more fog here than in the previous two films combined, and believe me those films had a lot of fog in them - but Ray Milland simply doesn't have Price's knack for making you want to listen to him talk even during the slow spells. He never manages to invest the character with any sort of spark, and as such no real sympathy for him or his story ever develops in the viewer. It's a perfectly serviceable performance, and Milland has nothing to be ashamed of (unlike you, Jason Robards!), but, well -- just watch the end, when Guy emerges from his inevitable getting buried alive scene and has thus gone completely bonkers and launches into a gleefully mad bout of revenge. Milland is OK, but you just can't help thinking how great the whole scene would have been if Price was given a chance to do it. The rest of the cast performs with the usual competency one has come to expect by this point from both AIP and Hammer films, though some of the characters seem to be involved in subplots that never really go anywhere or get fully explained (why was Guy out there helping steal a corpse in the beginning of the film anyway?). Besides Hazel Court, who gets more of a chance to act here than she did in Curse of Frankenstein (and has one of the best scenes in the movie, during which she explains to Guy that he's already dead, and his obsession with being buried alive has, in a way, already buried him alive), familiar faces like Alan Napier (Alfred the butler from the old Batman television series) and Dick Miller (The Terror, Truck Turner, Gremlins, and about ten million other movies) are on hand to round out the cast with their solid character acting. Unfortunately, the script tends to let the performers down, and almost all the characters are either undeveloped, underdeveloped, or just plain unlikable. Without Price around to liven things up, the weakness screams at you like one of those screaming skulls. You know the ones. The ones that scream. I don't know enough to know how closely the movie clings to the original 1844 story, but by all accounts, it sticks to the source material pretty tightly. Poe himself was possessed of a very similar fear of being buried alive, which is why it figures so frequently into his stories and thus so frequently into the Poe movies. Still, after seeing a buried alive plot in both of the previous films, one can't help but hope for something a little different the third time out. Instead, we get the "total package" buried alive movie, one in which interment of the living isn't just a part of the plot, but the entire plot. And speaking of plots, did I miss the part where they tell us exactly why shadowy characters are attempting to drive poor Guy insane? Plus, you'd think that after the guy has gone on and on about catalepsy for the whole movie, when he actually does lapse into a cataleptic state, they'd do more than just shrug and go, "Well, looks like he's dead. Let's get to burying'"
The lack of freshness combined with some gaping lack of explanations keep The Premature Burial situated firmly around or maybe, if I'm feeling good, slightly above the mediocre mark. Plus, it's just not scary. Even with the gnarled old trees and fog, there are never any chills, and certainly nothing on par with the rampaging sister Usher in House of Usher or any number of scenes in Pit and the Pendulum. As such, Premature Burial remained for a long time the ignored entry into Corman's cycle, more or less skipped over as people hastened to get from Pit and the Pendulum on to Tales of Terror, Masque of the Red Death and The Raven, when everything was back as it should be and Vincent Price was once again stalking across the screen in period costumes. Premature Burial feels like a misfire - not a dreadful misfire, or an entirely unwatchable one, but a misfire never the less. The pieces -- Corman, Poe, Price, Matheson, and musical composer Les Baxter -- clicked so perfectly in the first two films that it becomes obvious something is amiss in The Premature Burial. The film does have its moments -- chief among them Milland's exquisitely enthusiastic tour of his "buried alive-proof tomb" -- but the whole thing never fully gels. It was obvious that there just shouldn't be any tinkering with the formula, so AIP made sure everything was back in place for the fourth film, the anthology Tales of Terror. Labels: Director: Roger Corman, Horror: Poe, Netflix Diary, Studio: AIP, Year: 1962 posted by Keith at 11:30 PM | 0 Comments |
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