Reviews

An awkward and snivelling psychopath named Jay Preston has taken a shine to the nightclub dancer he regularly sees perform. This brooding fellow, who goes out in jacket and tie yet lives in an apartment with white brick walls and an iron-framed bed resembling those of a prison cell, is beginning to revolt against his dependency on nudie magazine pin-ups, prostitutes, and the blow-up doll that he keeps readily at hand in the corner of his room. The dancer, named Jennie, is a family-minded woman who is only trying to save money for her wedding and isn't the least bit interested in this twerp whom she doesn't realize is violently obsessed with her and only able to find satisfaction when terrorizing the people around him. Enraged by seeing Jennie with her fiancé, Jay decides to take her hostage at gunpoint and we seem to know just where things are headed...

Born in 1935, Canadian transplant Lindsay Shonteff had a fairly prolific career that began in the early 1960s and lasted into the 2000s, almost entirely on the British exploitation market. Shonteff, who crossed the Atlantic for directing opportunities like his friend Sidney Furie, proved able to work in multiple genres and seemed to be making large early strides under producers like Joseph E. Levine and Harry Alan Towers. Shonteff, however, also peaked early, partly due to his squabbling over and rejection of offers by Columbia and 20th Century Fox, opportunities that tend to only come around once. By the early 80s, having become a self-producer with his wife Elizabeth Gray, he was one of several UK-based exploitation directors getting crowded out amidst rising production costs and increased competition from Hollywood.

'Lipstick and Blood,' a thriller showing every sign of its minimal to non-existent budget, is one of at least two titles that Shonteff filmed directly onto videotape during this mid-80s economic crunch. It was at this time that British exploitation directors were making films solely to test a home video market that was unregulated but eventually tightened by stricter classification and licensing rules. This film, listed by various sources as being released in 1984 but having a 1986 copyright in the end credits, was produced and directed by Shonteff along with 'The Killing Edge,' a scant post-apocalyptic tale that came out around the same time.

Many of Shonteff's professional and aesthetic decisions can be questioned when looking back at his career but it is unfortunate to see a filmmaker of decent ability reduced to this level. 'Lipstick and Blood' contains everything you can imagine from a direct-to-video exploitation flick: opening and closing credits that are of the Commodore 64 desktop variety, an horrendous synth-pop soundtrack made up of about five cues that keep recurring, locations, costumes, and props that don't truly reflect the intended setting, and a cast of obscure actors. All of these things are here; but Shonteff, whom we can assume directed ('Robert Bauer' is only listed as writer for two other Shonteff films in the 80s) and who perhaps did all of the scriptwriting and editing, used his experience to somehow enliven a ho-hum plot with a mesmerizingly warped male character and a couple of twists that cause the story to unexpectedly change its direction. While this still pans out to a standard rape-revenge drama, Shonteff somehow keeps the viewer engaged in a bottom-level production that has everything working against it.

His driving factor is the ever-psychotic state of Jay, played by Joseph Peters, an actor with several television credits that include 'All Creatures Great and Small' and 'ITV Playhouse.' Jay is a thoroughly repellent man whose existence seems to be built around the pornographic models he ogles, fantasizes about, and hangs on his bedroom walls, viewing them as 'if only' targets of his sexual violence and whom he even proceeds to shout down ("Oh, she's better looking than you!...Oh, yeah...She's got class! Real CLASS!"). He starts to imagine his perverted ideas being fulfilled in Jennie and, after a failed attempt at introducing himself, decides to stalk her in hopes of living a 'normal' existence.

Willing to turn over anyone in his path, Preston kidnaps Jennie and forces her to drive his boxy subcompact through a different kind of honeymoon; moving from one hotel to another, he makes Jennie dance for him in the style of her nightclub acts, repeatedly rapes her (thankfully, without being shown the details), and rants at her when not looking too enthusiastic about their new 'relationship.' By the time that Jennie is in his clutches, Preston has already started on a rash of killings to get whatever material comforts he wants or to obtain payback for feeling slighted. These cold-blooded deaths include a prostitute he hires but who only heightens his feelings of inadequacy, Jennie's fiancé, a gas station attendant whose till he empties, an American couple whose Lincoln Continental he drives off with, and, after she manages to escape, both of Jennie's parents.

The sex-crazed sadistic male is a prototype that dots Shonteff's catalog, reaching back to the slasher in 'Night, After Night, After Night,' the lovingly-named Rock Hard who is always looking to engage in kink with Harriet Zapper, and even Charles Vine with his bed-hopping between shootouts in 'The Second Best Secret Agent in the Whole Wide World.' 'Lipstick and Blood,' however, takes this to the nth degree, following a sex deviate in total meltdown before gleefully dishing out his comeuppance. As its title suggests, the film may have been influenced by that 1977 rape-revenge benchmark 'Lipstick,' though Shonteff had plenty of material to borrow from his own work. There is also some critique of capitalism visible, as Preston uses murder to get the woman, cash, and car that his society is demanding every virile male to have. Needless to say, Preston doesn't get any closer to feeling satisfied and begins taking Jennie to task for understandably looking down ("Why don't you cheer up?!" he rages).

Although there is nothing special in Peters's performance as Jay, his erratic psycho manages to carry the film when there is little acting to be had elsewhere. Jay is the element that 'Lipstick and Blood' clings to, as the other roles don't command much of our attention. The role of Jennie is played by an actress named Jane Linter, who only seems to have appeared in this one film. Linter fills the role passively, being pleasant to look at but never energetic. In scenes after which another murder has taken place, Jennie mopes around quietly and looks more tired than scared, though it strangely works at times when Jay is belittling her with his rants or forcing her into another degrading act. The other roles, including Jennie's mother and father (who apparently shelter her, so why did she need to take up stripping?), are not given much screen time for us to know them, besides the fact that most of this film's acting is well below standard.

There is not the amount of blood that one would expect in this film, as Jay Preston's victims are shot or stabbed without a lot of gruesome detail. There is no nudity, with Jennie never actually stripping in the club and having only two other suggestive episodes when she stands in a hotel shower for Preston while dressed and gets a glass of milk poured onto her robe. None of this matters in the broad picture of things, of course, and the film's main problem besides its lack of budget and acting talent are the ridiculous gaps in logic, which Shonteff seemed to be content with throughout his career. 'Lipstick and Blood' seems to exist in a parallel universe where there is no law enforcement - you would think that Jay will eventually be seen in the act and Jennie's parents, her fiancé's family, or her employer would be phoning up after they've gone missing. Common sense also goes out the window when Jay pulls his gun on a pair of guests in the club (amongst an audience of five or six people) and none of the club staff seem to care about it. Near the film's end, Jennie pilfers a shotgun that was kept by the club manager, is later asked if she'd seen it, then performs with it on stage (seems like a bit of a clue as to where that gun went, don't you think?).

There is plenty else to ridicule in a film like this but no one can be expecting art from a videotape that was never going to escape obscurity. There's also no point in ripping up what might have been a project of the director and his own family or friends. While of interest to the most hardcore fans of Shonteff and exploitation videotape collectors, 'Lipstick and Blood' might also be useful to those with a stake in British film and video history, as this came from an odd time when filmmakers were trying new avenues. To my knowledge, this film only exists in its original VHS format and bootlegs. It has been making rounds on YouTube lately and a few odd tapes may be circulating on the Internet but it's definitely not something the average viewer should go hunting for.

The personal sentiments of John Wayne and Kirk Douglas were often light years apart. Both socially and politically, these two veteran stars were of different mindsets and caused on-set tension more than once. Yet in a professional case of opposites attracting, Wayne and Douglas worked together – and often exceptionally well – on three motion pictures in the late 1960s.

Their last project was 1967's 'The War Wagon,' a tongue-in-cheek Western financed by Wayne's Batjac Productions company. Made at the tail-end of American cinema's great Western era, 'The War Wagon' combines action and dark comedy in what is very much an homage to the grand tradition that Wayne, in particular, was an integral part of.

Wayne, in his 162nd film appearance, plays Taw Jackson, a New Mexico rancher who has been released from prison after serving three years of his term. Jackson is seeking revenge against Pierce (Bruce Cabot), a mining company owner who stole his land and sent him behind bars on false charges. He aims to hijack Pierce's notorious War Wagon, a steel-lined coach that is used to transport precious metals.

Aware that a half-million dollars' worth of gold will be shipped in the coming days, Jackson brings together some assistants. He hires a dependable gunman (Lomax, played by Douglas), a drunk explosives expert (Billy Hyatt, Robert Walker Jr. of 'The Ceremony'), a paranoid horse driver (Wes Fletcher, Keenan Wynn of 'Shoot, Gringo...Shoot!'), and an Indian who has assimilated to the White ways of doing business (Levi Walking Bear, 'Dallas' regular Howard Keel).

'The War Wagon' offers a few engaging subplots, including the absence of loyalty from Lomax, who already shot Taw years earlier and has been offered a fair sum by Pierce to finish the job. Character actress Velora Noland plays Fletcher's young, bartered wife who is trapped in her relationship and confides in Hyatt, a man closer in age. The supporting cast is dotted with Hollywood veterans, including Joanna Barnes, Bruce Dern, and Gene Evans.

With a cast of Wayne, Douglas, and familiar support, it is inevitable that 'The War Wagon' entertains. The film seems to wink at campy Westerns of previous decades and never takes itself seriously. Clair Huffaker's screenplay (adapted from his novel 'Badman') uses a taut storyline and keeps us guessing at what happens next. The characters in Taw Jackson's entourage, never really fleshed out by Huffaker's writing, are still an amusing group who don't like each other but must rely on one another to stay alive.

Burt Kennedy's direction is reliable, moving the film at a steady pace. The action scenes are sure-handled and Kennedy (who also directed Wayne's 'The Train Robbers') makes good use of the rugged country in Durango for bands of horsemen and scenes involving Indian tribes who are being driven off the land. The direction is complemented by gritty cinematography from William Clothier ('The Comancheros,' 'Stagecoach') and a rousing score by Dimitri Tiomkin.

Released in 1967, 'The War Wagon' came very late in the game for traditional Westerns; it was around the time that new frontiers were being crossed by directors like Sergio Leone. 'The War Wagon' is aimed at fans of old-time Western stories and doesn't concern itself with a mastery of cinema. There are more than enough clichés and plot gaps to go around and Wayne is making his umpteenth reprise as his old Western self. However, it is impossible not to like the historic combination of Wayne and Douglas, who are almost synonymous with the prairie.

For Western fans, 'The War Wagon' is one of those essentials that should not be missed. Universal Studios has made two releases of the film on DVD, although there is reportedly no difference between them. The more recent was a 2003 disc that is part of the 'Universal Western Collection.' 'The War Wagon' is presented in 2.35:1 widescreen with language options of English, Spanish, and French in Dolby 2.0 mono. Subtitles are provided in English and Spanish only.

Universal's DVD treatment of the film is minimal. Visually, 'The War Wagon' appears to have been transferred from a studio print without cleanup. There are small artifacts throughout the running time and grain, though not overtly noticeable, can be seen on lighter tones. Sound, including dialogue and effects, is generally clear and Dimitri Tiomkin's score is given due recognition in the speakers. The only extras are the theatrical trailer, notes on the production, and written bios of Wayne, Douglas, and Burt Kennedy. Universal's presentation is rather lean, but as one of the actors' lesser films, it will have to do for now.

** ½ out of 4

Roving Reviewer - www.rovingreviewer.blogspot.com

To gain a full appreciation of film noir, you'll have to see 'The Asphalt Jungle' at least once. The John Huston-directed thriller is considered an archetype of the hard-boiled crime genre and has been imitated several times, including as a western.

'The Asphalt Jungle' was made in the thick of Hollywood's Production Code, which placed firm limits on content. Considering the restrictions that Huston and co-writer Ben Maddow had to deal with, 'Jungle' is eye-catching in how it moves against the grain of crime films from its era. Huston and Maddow wrote a faithful adaptation of W.R. Burnett's bestselling novel that treats its criminals with an unusual sensitivity as they try to restore order in their confused lives.

'Jungle' centers on a gem heist plotted by 'Doc' Erwin Riedenschneider (Sam Jaffe), an aging German crook who has been released from prison. Riedenschneider, who is itching to make one final score and ease into retirement, has spent his days in jail planning out a robbery that would net thousands of dollars for himself and his cohorts. In the film's unnamed city (allusions are made to Cincinnati), he gains help from Dix Handley (Sterling Hayden), a heavy who is wanted by police and lives with his friend Doll Conovan (Jean Hagen); Gus Minissi (James Whitmore), a hunchbacked restaurant owner who covers for Dix; and Louis Ciavelli (Anthony Caruso), a locksmith who has a knack for cracking safes.

Riedenschneider is a meticulous schemer who seems to have everything in place to become a rich man. But he and his colleagues reveal their fatal flaws as matters develop. Riedenschneider, for instance, will forget everything when he sees a good-looking woman and Dix is crazed by his family's loss of their Kentucky horse breeding farm. The story further intertwines with Alonzo Emmerich (Louis Calhern), a once-wealthy businessman who becomes an intermediary for selling off the gems. Marilyn Monroe gives an early career appearance as Angela Phinlay, Emmerich's lover who is cohabiting with his sick wife May (Dorothy Tree). John McIntire (as the police commissioner), Marc Lawrence, Barry Kelley, Teresa Celli (as Louis's wife), and Brad Dexter fill supporting roles in a large cast.

Dix and Doll gradually become the focal characters of 'Jungle' as the Kentuckian tries to correct past mistakes and buy his family's farm that was lost years ago. At 6' 5", Sterling Hayden is a physically dominating man on screen yet softened by Dix's feelings of misgiving. Jean Hagen, who later cemented her reputation in 'Singin' in the Rain,' is perhaps the most effective and sympathetic character of all; as a true friend, she supports Dix every step of the way while her affection is mostly ignored.

Huston, as he so often achieved in fifty years of directing, gets strong performances from most of his cast. The leads, especially Hayden, Hagen, Jaffe, and Calhern, give sincere efforts and heighten the story's drama. Nearly two hours long, 'Jungle' moves at a steady pace, devoting the first 45 minutes to Doc's planning of the heist and the last hour to its aftermath. There are simply too many characters for them to be developed thoroughly, but Huston and Maddow succeed in giving them depth on screen. The film's ending is satisfying, if fairly predictable under Production Code restraints.

'Jungle,' with its progressive script and very good performances, was nominated for four Oscars, including Jaffe for best actor and Huston for best director. It's nowadays regarded as a classic in film circles, although there are detractors, including myself. While above average for its time, much of the dialogue is clichéd and many of the conventions are all too familiar for its era. What gives 'Jungle' added life is its take on the criminal psyche, which was usually a subject of malign in Hollywood. Huston and Maddow succeed in making the felons sympathetic by relating to their inner conflicts.

'The Asphalt Jungle' has received an acceptable DVD release as part of a five-disc, boxed set from Warner Bros. and Turner Entertainment. 'Film Noir Classic Collection,' which includes 'Murder, My Sweet' and 'Gun Crazy,' offers 'Jungle' with a short introductory clip of Huston; a commentary track with film scholar Dr. Drew Casper and excerpts of an interview with James Whitmore; and the theatrical trailer. French dubbing is included with subtitles in English, French, and Spanish.

'Jungle' is well-presented visually and soundwise. The transfer keeps a sharp contrast between light and dark shades, which helps to preserve the look that is so important in noir films. Sound is fully balanced with clear dialogue and distinct sound effects.

Drew Casper, who holds the Hitchcock film chair at USC, gives a commentary that is informative but top-heavy on facts we'd get from an encyclopedia or a Google search. Casper devotes much time to discussing Huston, MGM (particularly Louis B. Mayer's fall from grace), and film noir as a style, which is helpful but overlooks what is happening on screen. He also tends to get wound up on certain elements of the film that I, at least, don't find quite as impressive. The disc jacket plugs his commentary 'with co-star James Whitmore,' but the track only excerpts an older interview of Whitmore at appropriate points.

Though not a perfect film and its disc presentation could've been a little more rounded, the Warner/Turner release of 'Jungle' is certainly worth hunting down. Self-proclaimed 'experts' of film noir shouldn't be caught dead without having seen it and the film is likely to entertain anyone with an interest in crime.

*** out of 4

Roving Reviewer - www.rovingreviewer.blogspot.com

Compared to other directors of his ilk, Adrian Lyne's résumé is extremely short. From his debut film 'Mr. Smith' in 1976 to 'Unfaithful' in 2002, Lyne has only nine titles to his credit. This has been a matter of quality over quantity: Lyne is selective with his material to the point of being overtly fussy, but it encourages his painstaking detail and thorough execution.

As a prime example of the gaps in Lyne's biography, 'Unfaithful' is still his most recent film after eight years. The film seems an epilogue to his long-time focus on sexual relationships that peaked with 'Nine ½ Weeks' and 'Fatal Attraction,' both major successes in the 1980s. 'Unfaithful,' using similar material, was also a top box office attraction despite mixed reviews from critics; it has pocketed $122 million worldwide and an Oscar nomination for Diane Lane's performance.

Lyne had long admired the work of French director Claude Chabrol, particularly in his 1969 drama 'La femme infidèle,' which became the starting point for 'Unfaithful.' For years, Lyne tossed around the idea of building on Chabrol's theme, but left matters alone. This changed, however, when the premise of 'La femme' was expanded by writers Alvin Sargent ('Julia,' 'Ordinary People') and William Broyles Jr. (TV's 'China Beach'). This new screenplay gave the affair considerably more detail and told the story with a frankness that is only nowadays possible.

The plot of 'Unfaithful' is painfully simple, yet it touches upon a great many emotions and sentiments. Diane Lane plays Connie Sumner, a suburban New York housewife who has been married for several years to Edward (Richard Gere), the owner of an armored car company. Connie has borne one child, a son named Charlie (Erik Per Sullivan), who attends grammar school. The middle-class family appears stable and free of conflict, but it is painfully ordinary: the large house, the Mercedes, and the shaggy dog look far too neat for problems not to exist beneath the surface.

Connie is a former city resident who has yearned - at least in fantasy - for the bohemian life that Paul Martel (Olivier Martinez) represents. Martel is an antiquarian book dealer who plies his trade from a Manhattan loft. In striking relief to Connie's loving but dull husband, Martel embodies a raw, unbridled sexuality that draws her interest. Through a chance meeting on the street, Connie and Paul settle into an affair that is far more carnal than affectionate.

With a husband and son waiting at home, it is only a matter of time before things start to unravel and hearts are broken. Infidelity is a topic worked to death by cinema, which made 'Unfaithful' a considerable risk to produce. Sargent and Broyles, however, tell the story from both Connie and Edward's viewpoint, leaving empathy for both characters. Tension also reaches high levels through the screenplay's effective plotting and dialogue.

Diane Lane's performance was nominated for several acting awards, including the Oscar and Golden Globe. All three adult leads are very good, but Lane is the person who truly shines. Her performance is intense, nuanced, and without a moment's doubt of her character. Gere and Martinez are effective, particularly in a key scene where the two gentlemen meet. Lyne has done superb work in converting Gere from his usual grittiness to a more vulnerable figure.

The one substantial flaw of this movie is that Paul Martel does not entirely work as a character. We have seen the French man of mystery a bit too often and Olivier Martinez is forced to climb uphill against the sarcasm that his character draws. Luckily, Martinez takes firm hold of the material and works to dispel the stereotype. It also seems that Erik Per Sullivan deserved more screen time as the couple's son, but he fills the child role excellently.

Music duties went to Jan A. P. Kaczmarek, who has since won an Academy Award for 'Finding Neverland' in 2004. Kaczmarek's soundtrack uses regular orchestration, is unobtrusive, and effectively colors the given scenes. 'Unfaithful' is also the first Lyne project edited by Anne Coates ('Lawrence of Arabia,' 'Becket'). Cinematographer Peter Biziou ('Nine ½ Weeks') has returned to Lyne after an extended absence and costume designer Ellen Mirojnick ('Fatal Attraction,' 'Jacob's Ladder') stays on board.

'Unfaithful' is frequently aired on television and there are plenty of DVDs to get your hands on. The 2002 release from 20th Century Fox is packed with extras, including a film-length commentary track with Lyne, commentary from Lane and Martinez on specific scenes, 11 deleted scenes with Lyne's remarks, cast interviews, a 15-minute featurette on Unfaithful's production ('An Affair to Remember'), and an editing featurette with Coates.

The film is presented in anamorphic widescreen (1.85:1) with Dolby 5.1 surround sound. Dubbing is offered in Spanish and French, along with subtitles in Spanish and English. Both the video and audio of 'Unfaithful' are solidly treated. Lyne's commentary offers useful background on the production, especially on why scenes were dropped or changed. The deleted scenes include a moralistic ending that was pushed by 20th Century Fox executives but later dropped in favor of Lyne's version. Decades on, adultery is still a popular subject for filmgoers and Lyne's newest project (not to mention Lane's performance) is definitely worth seeing.

*** out of 4

Roving Reviewer - http://rovingreviewer.blogspot.com

Dario Argento does not look fondly upon his second effort as a director. The middle installment of a trilogy that uses animal references in its titles, 'Il gatto a nove code' AKA 'The Cat O' Nine Tails' is admired by giallo enthusiasts but doesn't have Argento's full support.

Argento, the son of an Italian producer, turned heads with his first directorial gig, 'The Bird with the Crystal Plumage,' in 1970. An impressive effort for any first-time director, 'Bird' won critical praise and even topped the American box office for a week. The following year, 30-year-old Argento teamed with screenwriters Dardano Sacchetti and Luigi Collo on 'The Cat O' Nine Tails,' which fits a premise from Bryan Edgar Wallace (the famed novelist's son) into modern-day scientific research.

Like 'Bird,' 'The Cat O' Nine Tails' is far removed from Argento's later projects, including 'Deep Red' and the otherworldly 'Phenomena.' Argento was still working in the crime and slasher genres with formulaic plotting, but also with a great deal of style and competence. Only two films into his directorial career, 'Cat' is evidence of a full-fledged moviemaker who receives strong performances from his cast and assembles a satisfying final product.

As with his debut film, Argento recruited major talent for 'Cat' in James Franciscus ('Beneath the Planet of the Apes') and Academy Award-winner Karl Malden ('A Streetcar Named Desire,' 'Patton'). Franciscus plays Carlo Giordani, a newspaperman who reports on the burglary of a Rome genetics institute geared to wealthy clientele. Though nothing appears to have been stolen, his interest is heightened by the company's secretive ways of doing business and the mysterious death afterwards of a biochemist working in its labs.

Giordani receives unexpected help from Franco Arno (Malden), an ex-reporter who was blinded in an accident several years before and is now using his sense of touch to design word puzzles. Arno and his young niece Lori (future dubbing voice Cinzia De Carolis) have stumbled upon information that may lead to the killer, providing Giordani and Arno can stay alive. While the police run their own investigation, Giordani and Arno use their journalism skills to examine the institute's strange goings-on, chaired by Fulvio Terzi (Tino Carraro) and his alluring daughter Anna (Catherine Spaak).

'Cat' relies a great deal on Argento's 'first-person' techniques, including hand-held camera shots and unusual angles. Very effective are sequences from the killer's point of view, which project feelings of uneasiness and despair in tense situations. Argento also has fun with clichés such as a femme fatale, a car chase, a gay pick-up bar, and of course, a serial killer. Though its dialogue is awkward (at least in English), Cat's screenplay is efficiently written; the story moves at a reliable pace and tosses in moments of humor.

The lead cast plays their roles effectively. Franciscus uses a laid-back approach that makes his character very likable. Malden, who was portraying a blind man for the first time, gives an energetic performance and is matched by an impressive child outing from Cinzia De Carolis. Catherine Spaak, who plays the film's offbeat love interest, makes good use of limited material. The supporting actors are a usual mix ranging from fairly good to very bad; Rada Rassimov and Horst Frank are two names who stand apart.

Argento, who dislikes this film because of its parallels with the American action genre, made 'Cat' his second project with composer Ennio Morricone. Morricone's soundtrack again relies on serial technique, but is even darker and more restrained than his music for 'The Bird with the Crystal Plumage.' Scenes of chaos and suspense are helped once again by Morricone's fertile imagination; the soundtrack plays a key role in heightening emotion without being pushy or intrusive.

'The Cat O' Nine Tails,' a film recommended for thriller fans, was released on DVD by Anchor Bay Entertainment in 2001. Viewers should have a lot of fun with this offering: the film is presented in widescreen (2.35:1 aspect ratio) with Dolby 2.0 audio in Italian, English, and French. The disc has extras galore, including 'Tales Of The Cat,' a 14-minute featurette with Argento, Sacchetti, and Morricone; the U. S. and international theatrical trailers; TV and radio commercials; radio interviews with Franciscus and Malden; and a gallery of posters and stills.

Anchor Bay presents the film with a tidy appearance; colors are distinguishable without being overtly strong, preserving Cat's muted atmosphere by cinematographer Erico Menczer. There are occasional artifacts, but these are usually not noticeable. The English language track, always a problem in international co-productions, acquits itself; dialogue is generally clear, while Foley effects and Morricone's scoring are distinct.

If you don't know very much about Argento or 'The Cat O' Nine Tails,' you certainly will after pouring over the extras. Many aspects of this film are covered in detail, with Franciscus and Malden's interviews especially interesting. I found this DVD as a $1.99 clearance in my local supermarket, which will be our little secret. The disc also circulates on web sites (especially Amazon) and a newer release is available from Blue Underground.

*** out of 4

Roving Reviewer - http://rovingreviewer.blogspot.com

In the opening hour of Richard Attenborough's monumental Second World War epic, Major General Robert Urquhart, played by Sean Connery, is greeted upon parachuting into Holland by lunatics who have escaped from a nearby asylum. This image sums up perfectly the tragicomic circumstances of Operation Market Garden, an Allied offensive in 1944 that led to some 30,000 casualties between the two sides.

'A Bridge Too Far' is the last in cinema's tradition of grand battle epics, marked by such blockbusters as 'The Guns of Navarone,' 'The Longest Day,' and 'Patton.' All of these titles sported major casts, large-scale action, and outstanding production values. While Spielberg's 'Saving Private Ryan' has paved new roads for the genre, 'A Bridge Too Far' marks the end of a special time in Hollywood when vast arrays of talent came together for a single project. It seems unlikely that another such film will appear in the near future with production costs skyrocketing, so it's quite appropriate that 'A Bridge Too Far' has something of a last word on the Second World War's bloodshed.

Adapted by screenwriter William Goldman from Cornelius Ryan's popular book, 'A Bridge Too Far' steers us through the hasty planning, poor execution, and horrific aftermath of Market Garden, a high-stakes offensive for ending the war in Europe by Christmas 1944. The plan, 'credited' to Bernard Montgomery, involved dropping 35,000 Allied soldiers into Holland to secure key bridges, funnel trailing armies into Germany, and capture Berlin. In other words, Market Garden - the largest aerial operation in world history - was a parachute version of D-Day.

Montgomery's plan was first revealed by Lieutenant General Frederick Browning, depicted as a snooty figure by Dirk Bogarde. Several generals received the plan with enthusiasm, such as Lieutenant General Brian Horrocks (Edward Fox) of British 30 Corps and U. S. Major General Maxwell Taylor (Paul Maxwell). Others, however, looked upon it with reservations: Robert Urquhart, Brigadier General James Gavin (Ryan O'Neal), and Major General Stanislaw Sosabowski (Gene Hackman) were amongst those who found the risks too great. Yet Allied leadership, seeking an end to the war, cooperated. Warnings from Dutch intelligence on the presence of German tank divisions were ignored and the Allied generals quickly discovered their mistake.

Most of the film's running time is comprised of Allied efforts to secure the Dutch bridges, with leading Hollywood and European actors making appearances. Included are Michael Caine, James Caan, Elliott Gould, Anthony Hopkins, Laurence Olivier, Liv Ullmann, and Hardy Krüger. Because of space limits, a great deal of talent must be left out here. Filmed at original battle sites, 'A Bridge Too Far' is packed with tanks, jeeps, airplanes, and heavy artillery. Hundreds of extras, including paratroopers, fill expansive action scenes made years before the digital magic of CGI.

While sympathetic to men in combat, 'A Bridge Too Far' portrays the Allies as bringing a great deal of failure upon themselves. Besides paratroopers fighting with rifles against German tanks, we hear of crystal radios that don't work, watch supply drops that always miss their target, and enjoy Allied vehicles standing on roadsides (in a plan of 'thunderclap surprise'). Caution should be exercised in watching history through the lens of a filmmaker, but it's hard not to think of Market Garden as a study in human ineptitude and ask how the Allied generals could've won any battles, let alone this one.

'Bridge' reaches its high point at the 130-minute mark when Allied soldiers become increasingly desperate to break through Nijmegen. In need of boats to move across the River Waal, a unit led by U. S. Major Julian Cook (Robert Redford) is forced to row through a smoke screen in rafts while S. S. Panzer divisions leisurely wait on the other side. Amidst these soldiers' incredible bravery, the operation takes on an air of farce, as if the Allied leadership planned these tactics while in a nightclub.

Richard Attenborough, whose directorial résumé includes 'Gandhi,' 'A Chorus Line,' and 'Chaplin,' has given more than enough justice to these broad events. Despite having to manage a huge cast of stars, Attenborough makes his actors work as a cohesive unit, with none of the roles taking on a cameo-like feel. His characters are interwoven through the storyline, returning to the fore at various times and maintaining their human interest. Though William Goldman's script feels clichéd and spits up encyclopedic facts to keep the viewer informed, the actors' enthusiasm overcomes most of its weaknesses.

The production was nicely filmed by Geoffrey Unsworth ('Cromwell,' 'Superman') and superbly edited by Antony Gibbs ('Rollerball,' 'Dune'). Composer John Addison has made a repetitive soundtrack, but gives appropriate color to the film's plot line. Interestingly, Addison was a soldier in British 30 Corps during the Market Garden operation.

While epic war films are nowadays compared to 'Saving Private Ryan,' much has to be said for 'A Bridge Too Far,' which offers a different perspective on how the Second World War was fought. Aside from moments of lame humor, Gene Hackman's bad Polish accent, and (for many viewers) an extreme running time, Attenborough's opus is a fitting tribute to the men who fought in an operation of good intentions but atrocious design.

In 2005, MGM appropriately released a collector's edition DVD set of 'A Bridge Too Far' with commentary and extras. Already in wide circulation is a 1998 disc with only United Artists' theatrical trailer supplied. Though this earlier release is lacking in sound balance, its visual transfer is well-done with minimal artifacts. The film is presented in widescreen with its original stereo track and a French 'dubbing' option; subtitles are provided in French and English. Monumental by today's standards, 'A Bridge Too Far' is an absolute must for war film collectors and those with historical interests in Europe.

*** out of 4

Roving Reviewer - http://rovingreviewer.blogspot.com

The fiasco that was 'Cleopatra' somewhat behind him, Richard Burton made a strong run of appearances during the mid-1960s that included 'Becket,' 'Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?,' 'The Taming of the Shrew,' and this riveting adaptation of John Le Carré's novel, 'The Spy Who Came in from the Cold,' directed by former Oscar nominee Martin Ritt. Released almost simultaneously with Ian Fleming's 'Thunderball,' 'The Spy Who Came in from the Cold' is a total antithesis of the flashy, highly romanticized world surrounding James Bond.

'The Spy Who Came in from the Cold' is in many ways a direct reaction against the James Bond legend. It is a gritty, unpleasant depiction of Cold War espionage with vague characterization, grimy settings, and unhappy endings for most. Adapted from the Le Carré novel by Paul Dehn and Guy Trosper, 'The Spy Who Came in from the Cold' seems to have taken on more repugnant qualities after four decades in existence. The opposition between 'free' nations and the Eastern Bloc countries now seems lost in history, but the Western World - as this film now points out - is obligated to remember the lives that were destroyed because of it.

Filmed in black and white, 'The Spy Who Came in from the Cold' implores us to remember, having a feel that is eerily similar to Kubrick's 'Dr. Strangelove,' although not in a comic vein. Burton (Oscar-nominated) is solidly cast as Alec Leamas, a British intelligence agent who is near retirement. Stubbornly holding on to his love for spy work, Leamas enters a risky assignment in which he poses as a self-loathing alcoholic tied to an international banking scheme that transfers money from Allied countries into the East. Leamas is hoping to set up the arrest and execution of Hans-Dieter Mundt (Peter van Eyck), a former Hitler Youth who has become a high-ranking member of the East German Stasi.

Leamas's success depends on the ambitions of Fiedler (Oskar Werner, who earned the Golden Globe for Best Supporting Actor), a Jew who would love nothing more than to see his 'reformed' fascist boss put to death. Unfortunately, the operation needs an innocent person sucked into matters, which leads to a relationship between Leamas and Nancy Perry (Claire Bloom), a librarian who is enrolled in the British Communist Party. From the beginning, one senses that things will not end well and the film, unfortunately, does not disappoint.

Burton is entirely on his game as Leamas, whose professional and personal lives are completely blurred. We know very little about Leamas as a man and frequently wonder if the scant information he's giving is true or false. There is also irony in the way Leamas 'acts' out his part by drinking and plodding around London; it is clear that Leamas, an aging loner, is psychologically at the end of his rope and there may be no actual distinction between the role he's playing and his usual lifestyle.

Oskar Werner, Claire Bloom, and the supporting cast are excellent throughout. Werner strongly portrays a German Jew who is torn between self-preservation, political ambition, and a wish to atone the past. Bloom has perhaps the most sympathetic character, a young, idealistic woman who takes on political beliefs for the sake of peace but discovers that politics are little more than an excuse for trouble. Cyril Cusack gives a lasting impression as Control, Leamas's intelligence superior, as do Peter van Eyck and Sam Wanamaker (as Peters).

Martin Ritt ('Hud') directs with impeccable vision, allowing the plot to gradually develop until Leamas and Nancy stand at a point of no return. Lasting 112 minutes, 'The Spy Who Came in from the Cold' is set at an oddly relaxed pace with lap-fades joining one scene to the next. This captures the sinister atmosphere of Cold War politics in which figures appear and disappear from the shadows. Le Carré's tale is completely without sentiment, espionage being little more than a sick game played between unfeeling individuals. Pristine cinematography by Oswald Morris ('Lolita,' 'The Man with the Golden Gun') and austere music by Sol Kaplan add to the hopelessness of this 1960s political front.

In heavy circulation is a 2004 DVD of 'The Spy' released by Paramount Pictures as an installment of their Widescreen Collection. If you are looking for supplemental materials, you're advised to pass this one by. The film is well-presented visually with a choice of Dolby 5.1 surround sound, the restored mono track, and French dubbing; subtitles are provided in English only. Unfortunately, there are no extras on this disc, not even the theatrical trailer - although this may not be a bad thing if it contains spoilers.

The film has clear visuals with occasional age marks. Its mono track was used for this review and yet again, there seems to be an imbalance between music and dialogue. 'The Spy Who Came in from the Cold' has extensive passages with speaking and little else; the sound is rather low in these cases, while music cues blast out of the front speakers. Luckily, the quality of this production (Burton, Ritt, Oswald Morris, and art director Tambi Larsen all received BAFTAs for its UK release) helps us to overlook such weaknesses. For those wanting supplements, go straight to the Criterion Collection's 2008 release…But do get this film, either way.

*** out of 4

Universal Studio's DVD release of 'Marnie' offers a documentary program called 'The Trouble with Marnie,' which has a two-pronged meaning. Besides the title character's neuroses, 'Marnie' hit large bumps in its conception. The film was slated for Grace Kelly, who planned a return to acting but withdrew after issues surfaced in Monaco. Alfred Hitchcock expected to shoot 'Marnie' immediately after 'Psycho,' instead canning the project and filming 'The Birds.' During this first production with Tippi Hedren, Hitchcock changed his mind and offered Hedren the Marnie role.

'Marnie,' adapted from a novel by Winston Graham, focuses on character motivation and shies away from Hitchcock's use of externals to build drama. Hedren portrays Marnie Edgar, a Baltimore native who has worked, attracted men, and stolen under numerous aliases. Her cover is finally blown when she takes money from the office vault at Rutland & Company, a Philadelphia publishing house led by young and handsome widower Mark Rutland (Sean Connery).

Mark, who studied zoology before taking over the publishing business from his father, develops a strange interest in Marnie. He uses threats of jail to blackmail her into marriage and works to uncover her inner demons. Marnie is very much a Freudian nightmare: she is paranoid towards men, terrified of the color red, and hears bumping sounds in the night. Complicating matters is Lil Mainwaring (Diane Baker), a sister-in-law who was practically raised by Mark, his late wife, and father. Lil provides Mark with erotic distraction and becomes the rival of Marnie through a bond that is almost incestuous in feel. Marnie is also at risk of meeting past victims, including Sidney Strutt (Martin Gabel), who provides services to Rutland and employed Marnie under the alias of 'Marion Holland.'

While a finely-crafted addition to Hitchcock's résumé, 'Marnie' seems to rank on the lower echelons of his career. The main problem is writing that stretches logic to the breaking point. In a script by Jay Presson Allen ('Funny Lady') after write-ups by two others, Mark Rutland is educated as a zoologist but seems oddly well-informed, almost erudite, in human psychoanalysis. The original script by Joseph Stefano (as in the novel) has Marnie visiting a psychiatrist who is separate from Mark. Allen's final script uses the Rutland character for these episodes, which is asking us to suspend much disbelief. Mark also has a male business rival in the novel that was converted into Lil Mainwaring.

Another blemish is Hitchcock's continued use of unrealistic settings. 'Marnie' uses studio lots, painted backgrounds, and matte work that may have succeeded in black and white, but do not fare well in color. Even into the 1960s, Hitchcock was against filming on location, preferring 'mock' outdoors. There are locales such as a dockyard in Baltimore and the outside of Rutland & Company that are obviously fake. 'The Birds,' filmed one year earlier, has similarly awkward moments.

Bernard Herrmann's soundtrack - the last he completed for Hitchcock before their dispute over 'Torn Curtain' - is in his recognizable style: a lush, highly romantic design with turbulence akin to 'Vertigo.' While exceptionally written, the music often sounds inappropriate for this bizarre 'love' affair. Herrmann was pressured by studio heads into writing a 'commercial' soundtrack, which was not the composer's forté. The music, at times, captures Hitchcock's suspense perfectly, but at other moments seems heavy-handed, almost mocking the given scenes unintentionally.

Nothing, however, can be taken away from the performances by Hitchcock's cast. Hitchcock was still getting maximum efforts from his actors and all of their scenes carry impact. Hedren is impressive in her moods of coquettishness, neuroticism, terror, and deceit. Connery's role is perhaps too broad on paper, but his intensity, charm, and strong presence work wonders. Diane Baker, Martin Gabel, and Louise Latham (as Marnie's mother Bernice) are excellent in supporting roles. Mariette Hartley and Bruce Dern also make limited appearances.

Though destined to remain in the world canon, 'Marnie' is a strange piece of film, even by Hitchcock's standards. It has the aura of a typical Hollywood romance that's been injected with Fritz Lang to make your skin crawl. It's also a mixture of uneven writing, obsolete set design, solid direction, and excellent performances that will leave you wobbly. 'Marnie' is not the best Hitchcock, but not the worst by a far cry - simply an entertaining, if often unpleasant, thriller from one of cinema's great geniuses.

Universal's DVD release of 'Marnie' is somewhat disappointing, even with its fine supplements. As part of the Alfred Hitchcock Collection, 'Marnie' is presented in anamorphic widescreen (1.85:1) with Dolby 2.0 enhancement of the original mono track. French dubbing is offered with captions in English only. Extras include 'The Trouble with Marnie,' a one-hour documentary on the film's drawn-out production; a gallery of photographs and advertising materials; cast and crew information; and Hitchcock's off-beat theatrical trailer. The DVD package also contains a four-page booklet with notes by Hitchcock's daughter, Pat O'Connell.

For whatever reason, Universal has not gone the distance in restoring 'Marnie.' While the overall visual quality is good and colors are strong, grain and speckling are frequent. Audio is well-done, balancing dialogue, sound effects, and Herrmann's music. The overall presentation is watchable, but not what you'd expect for such a widely known and studied (perhaps 'classic') film.

Universal's new program, directed by Laurent Bouzereau, follows 'Marnie' through its script genesis, filming, and critical reaction. Unfortunately, Sean Connery was not available for his remarks, but Hedren, Diane Baker, and Louise Latham recall their parts in striking detail. Joseph Stefano, Evan Hunter (screenwriter of 'The Birds' who was fired from 'Marnie' by Hitchcock), and Jay Presson Allen offer valuable background. Hopefully, 'Marnie' will show up on disc with a better appearance, but its current release is no less important.

*** out of 4

DVD technology has helped to bring retrospectives of 1970s Italian cinema and saved many films that looked doomed to oblivion. Action director Enzo Castellari is one name who has benefited from this trend, seeing projects like 'Heroin Busters' and 'Street Law' drawing new audiences. Castellari's second war film, 'The Inglorious Bastards,' is also enjoying a revival and has spurred an upcoming project by Quentin Tarantino.

'Bastards' can be viewed as a summing-up of the Italian war genre, bringing together elements of plot, character, and general nuttiness seen over two previous decades. Renamed by its distributors as 'Quel maledetto treno blindato' ('That Damn Train'), 'Bastards' hooks onto several well-known premises. The idea of U.S. Army convicts on a tactical mission was originally used in 'The Dirty Dozen' and the progress of a German locomotive was seen in John Frankenheimer's 'The Train.' These elements were later fused into 'Battle of the Commandos' (directed by Umberto Lenzi) and seen in Italy many times afterward. Everything from twenty years of Italian war film-making surfaces in 'The Inglorious Bastards:' a wildly uneven plot, a myriad of characters, plenty of gunfire and explosions, and an over-the-top finale.

The major European cast is led by Bo Svenson, who plays U.S. Air Force Lieutenant Yeager. Yeager is forced to take charge of army prisoners who escape when their ground transport is attacked by a German fighter plane. The 'bastards' plan to reach exile in Switzerland but accidentally kill off a group of American soldiers (disguised as Nazis) whose mission is to stop a train carrying the prototype of Germany's new V2 missile. 'The Inglorious Bastards' devotes an hour to their escape and forty minutes to their carrying out of the operation.

Despite third billing, former NFL defensive back Fred Williamson stays visible as Private Fred Canfield. Canfield is the most developed character in this film, having to deal with ongoing racism from both 'friend' and enemy. Peter Hooten creates much of the racial strife as Tony, a blue-eyed American who is unafraid to drop slurs. Michael Pergolani gives a spirited effort as Nick, the long-haired, mustache-wearing playboy who excels at forging documents. Jackie Basehart nicely fills Berle, a cowardly farmer who delivers at pivotal moments. Academy Award nominee Ian Bannen maximizes his role as Colonel Buckner, the mission's guide; Bannen is particularly effective with Svenson as Nazi impostors.

Enzo Castellari's main talent is action and the action scenes in 'Bastards' are well-made. After seeing their guns confiscated by the Italian police during a Red Brigade scare, the film's crew pressed onward with homemade arms (including from wood) that fired electrical sparks in one burst. Castellari pulled off later scenes by using rapid crosscutting to disguise the 'fake' weaponry. These scenes are superbly paced (with editing by Gianfranco Amicucci) and use Castellari's favorite technique of slow motion to heighten the drama. Matte layouts by Emilio Ruiz del Río and explosives work by Gino De Rossi place 'Bastards' on a much larger scale than its budget allotted for. Composer Francesco De Masi ('Eagles Over London,' 'The New York Ripper') presents an orchestral soundtrack, arguably the best written for a spaghetti war flick.

While highly watchable, 'Bastards' is hurt a great deal by sloppy writing and mediocre venues. The script was written by no less than five people, with Franco Marotta and Laura Toscano making last-minute changes to enlarge its action. Main characters (except for Canfield) are little more than bodies, which is usual for this genre, and the intended humor doesn't always work to its potential. Much of the humor is slapstick and has a built-in risk of annoying viewers; this occurs at several points in the film. The writing often lacks focus and has unneeded subplot; actress Debra Berger is highly welcome as a French nurse, but her romantic interest with Tony has no definite place in the storyline.

'Bastards' was also not filmed in Spain as other Italian war movies of the period. Instead, it was shot in locations around Rome, which clearly didn't offer the wide-open feeling that a movie of this type requires. While the foliage and climate of Italy appear to match those of France, several of the action scenes are happening on cramped backlots; the areas are confined and seem to be hiding elements that would give away its place in a modern-day Italian suburb. del Río's matte work helps to bring an epic feel to the movie, but it often looks as if Castellari was hindered by the tight workspaces.

Although not greatly successful as a war film, lovers of action should be happy with 'The Inglorious Bastards.' The film is a must-see for Italian war fans and deserves at least one sit-down from those interested in Second World War epics. Tarantino's new version of 'Bastards' helped with an impressive DVD release from Severin Films, which is available in a three-disc set. The film is solidly presented in widescreen (1.85:1) with Dolby enhancement of the original mono track. Subtitles are given for all non-English dialogue.

Disc 1 offers a commentary track with Castellari and writer David Gregory, an excerpt from the theatrical trailer, and a 38-minute conversation between Castellari and Tarantino. On disc 2 are 'Train Kept A-Rollin',' a 75-minute documentary on the making of 'Bastards,' and 'Back To The War Zone,' a 13-minute featurette with Castellari revisiting locations. The third disc is a CD with 18 minutes of the film's original soundtrack, including its main titles. Several minutes were erased by De Masi when he needed a tape to record his son's school play (how about a featurette called 'The Inglorious Brats?'). Another spaghetti war tale for the ages.

** out of 4

Roving Reviewer - www.geocities.com/paul_johnr

Of all the British love stories written, perhaps none was more scandalous than 'Lady Chatterley's Lover,' which unfairly categorized D. H. Lawrence as a pornographic author. 'Chatterley' may appear tame by modern-day standards, but the complete novel was deemed graphic and 'destructive' enough to be banned in England until 1960, when a famous obscenity trial at the Old Bailey allowed for its publication.

Lawrence wrote the original version of 'Chatterley' as an ill man in 1926. He rewrote the novel twice and its final version appeared in 1928, when Lawrence funded its printing in Italy. Ravaged by critics for its frank language and depictions of sex, 'Chatterley' was banned in 'unexpurgated' form by the British and American censors for three decades. In 1960, just after the complete novel was legalized in America, Penguin Books founder Sir Allen Lane tested England's newly-created Obscene Publications Act by printing 'Chatterley,' the only Lawrence novel absent from his catalogue. Lane was arrested on charges of 'publishing an obscene article,' tried, and found not guilty, which paved the way for greater literary freedoms in the United Kingdom.

'The Chatterley Affair,' a 90-minute film produced for the BBC, is a combination of Lane's trial and a 'what if' romantic scenario. Using an imaginative script by Andrew Davies of 'Bridget Jones's Diary,' the film depicts actual courtroom proceedings with fictional jurors who decide Lady Chatterley's fate. And in ways similar to Chatterley's trysts, two jurors become smitten: Keith (Rafe Spall), a married, working-class man, with Helena (Louise Delamere), a wealthy divorcée who is living alone.

It may seem bizarre to combine fact with fiction, but Davies uses considerable skill to make things work. He supplies equal attention to the trial and budding affair, which results in parallels with the literary material being covered. The plot alternates between hours at court and time spent at home: during the trial, we see opening and closing arguments, key testimonies, and moments in the jury deliberation room. On off-hours, Keith and Helena spend time in bed while his adoring, pregnant wife Sylvia (Alyson Coote) is unsuspecting. Kenneth Cranham and Claire Bloom intermittently appear as the modern-day Keith and Helena in mock interviews. As we already know, 'Lady Chatterley's Lover' was not found by the jury to 'deprave and corrupt' its readers. Davies, however, asks the question a second time when Keith and Helena become aroused by the novel's content and leap into an affair behind Sylvia's back.

While the affair is finely portrayed, Chatterley's best moments are in court. Courtroom dramas still abound on television but rarely offer something new; 'The Chatterley Affair' is a different story, as we can feel the shock, surprise, and hilarity of these proceedings. As evidence is presented at trial, director James Hawes shows people around the courtroom to remind us of a straitlaced atmosphere in 1960. Class differences on sex and language are particularly exposed, such as when audience members react to passages from the novel. The present-day reflections of Keith and Helena are intended as running commentary; these moments are interesting but unnecessary, since the plot easily stands on its own two feet.

British TV veteran Donald Sumpter plays Gerald Gardiner, the attorney who defended Penguin Books. Sumpter is excellent as a lawyer who makes constructive arguments rather than abrasive ones. Pip Torrens ('Pride & Prejudice') shines as Mervyn Griffith-Jones, a highfalutin prosecutor who is obnoxious yet strangely likable. While asking working-class jurors if 'Chatterley' is a novel 'they'd even wish their wife or servants to read,' Torrens somehow wins respect for a lawyer who determinedly made his case without a single witness. Griffith-Jones is also heard futilely - and amusingly - reciting Mellors's northern dialect from the book.

Karl Johnson is dignified and quite funny as Justice Byrne, the older trial judge; Byrne wasn't happy about Lawrence's writing and looks exhausted by the profanity and sexual descriptions that are filling the courtroom. 'Harry Potter' alumnus David Tennant masters the role of Richard Hoggart, a university lecturer who gave important testimony for the defense. A man of working class origins, Hoggart called the novel 'highly virtuous and puritanical,' after which followed some of the most bizarre cross-examination that you will ever hear. James Hawes never overlooks the book itself as a character, frequently showing its orange jacket in close-up. It's perhaps no coincidence that the novel looks bright and spirited amidst drab surroundings.

Cinematographer James Aspinall gives a somber quality to this film and underlines the austere, 1950ish environment. Imaginary moments deriving from the book are also shown in flashback style to great effect. Nicholas Hooper's music emphasizes piano, which adds to the wistful setting. 'Chatterley' is excellent in depicting a society on the verge of upheaval, both public and private.

Even if you haven't read D. H. Lawrence's work, 'The Chatterley Affair' is a moving, highly entertaining, and often light-hearted drama with unexpected surprises. As a writer, it's certainly one of my favorite films based on literary topics and is successful in a purely dramatic sense. The film is now available on DVD in the United States through Acorn Media and can be found at major retailers such as Borders and Barnes & Noble. 'Chatterley' is presented in 16:9 widescreen with Dolby stereo; the disc includes cast filmographies, biographical information on Lawrence, and information on the 1960 trial. With 'Chatterley,' the BBC adds yet another film to its list of impressive productions.

*** out of 4

Roving Reviewer - www.geocities.com/paul_johnr

When images are coined of the Atomic Era, there will always be references to 'Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb,' Stanley Kubrick's 1964 comedy whose figures and situations remain clear in the mind. Widely considered as the greatest political satire in film history, 'Dr. Strangelove' still carries vitality today, despite being over four decades removed from the height of Cold War tensions. The question that Kubrick poses, after all, is still with us: what would happen if nuclear capabilities fell into the hands of a total madman?

Such trouble is brewing in Kubrick's version of the Pentagon. General Jack D. Ripper (Sterling Hayden), the paranoid commander of Burpelson Air Force Base, is convinced that American water supplies have become 'polluted' with fluoride in a vast Communist conspiracy. Ripper decides to unleash war on the Soviet Union by using a technicality in Wing Attack Plan R that allows him to send a fleet of patrolling B52s into nuclear counterattack on Russian targets. In the now-famous War Room, General Buck Turgidson (George C. Scott) must break the news to President Merkin Muffley (Peter Sellers), a weak but levelheaded figure modeled after Adlai Stevenson.

While Muffley tries to negotiate with the drunken Soviet Premier via telephone, General Ripper is being sweet-talked by Group Captain Lionel Mandrake (Sellers), his Royal Air Force attaché, into revealing a three-letter code needed to access the B52s' radio systems and countermand the attacks. It is soon revealed by the Premier that his countrymen have built a 'doomsday machine' that will automatically explode if any nuclear attack occurs, much to the delight of Dr. Strangelove (yes, Sellers), a wheelchair-ridden Nazi physicist hired by the American government. A total retreat of the B52s becomes imperative as a plane headed by Major T. J. Kong (Slim Pickens), whose radio has been destroyed by enemy fire, stays determined to reach its target. The survival of mankind will hinge on this lone bomber, which is unfortunately run by competent pilots.

Needless to say, 'Dr. Strangelove' hinges on the comic mastery of Peter Sellers, who had already filled the role of Clare Quilty in Kubrick's 'Lolita.' Sellers's portrayal of three men (including an interweave of Muffley and Strangelove) is a major comedic achievement that deserves his Oscar nomination for Best Actor. Sellers's primary talent is his total embodiment of character; he lives roles instead of merely 'playing' them. His working of all three personalities is complete and flawless. George C. Scott, Sterling Hayden, and Slim Pickens are excellent in their supporting roles, conveying the film's berserk atmosphere. James Earl Jones also makes his cinema debut as a pilot on Major Kong's bomber; Tracy Reed appears in the only female part as Turgidson's secretary.

'Dr. Strangelove,' at least in my opinion, plays out as a tongue-in-cheek satire rather than a laugh-out-loud farce. Much removed from 1964, the political implications of 'Strangelove' have a subtlety that has grown with time. Kubrick's decision to make the film comical rather than melodramatic (such as 'Fail Safe') was a brilliant one that shows the true absurdity of our Nuclear Arms Race: gangs of oversexed half-wits playing out the fate of mankind like a poker hand. Nuclear armament reached our world from Pandora's Box in 1945, becoming a threat that can only be avoided with delicate juggling acts. A tough question is whether or not we're choosing the right jugglers and what the repercussions could be if there's a foul-up. As 'Dr. Strangelove' shows, it's not even animosity between nations that can result in nuclear war, but the tiniest flaw in a military's checks and balances.

If there are any flaws to 'Dr. Strangelove,' it is moments of humor that are overripe; while Sellers portrays Strangelove brilliantly, the relative calm of Muffley and Mandrake cause him to look ham-fisted. The fact that General Ripper sets the three-letter code without anyone else's knowledge (including the Secretary of Defense) is also a huge plot gap that fortunately doesn't become noticeable. Satires will always have moments that do not entirely work, but 'Dr. Strangelove' has far more good moments than bad ones. Terry Southern's screenplay (adapted from the Peter George novel 'Red Alert') contains dazzling dialogue and uses stereotypes that only add to the film's comic value. And as long as there is international conflict, 'Dr. Strangelove' is guaranteed its social importance.

'Dr. Strangelove' has enjoyed two incarnations on DVD, the first of which happened in 2001 as a Columbia Pictures 'special edition.' The 2001 disc presents 'Strangelove' in Kubrick's original filming ratio of 1.33:1, thus appearing on TV screens in full frame. Picture quality is fair, with noticeable grain that does not spoil the overall black-and-white effect. Audio is available in English, French, Spanish, and Portuguese with subtitles in seven languages. Dolby-mastered sound brings across dialogue, sound effects, and Laurie Johnson's music clearly.

Extras are aplenty, with everything you need to know about Strangelove's production. Supplemental material includes 'The Art of Stanley Kubrick: From Short Films to Strangelove' and 'Inside the Making of Dr. Strangelove,' two recently-made documentaries; footage of mock interviews with Peter Sellers and George C. Scott; a gallery of advertising spreads; bios of the film's lead actors; the theatrical trailer; and a four-page booklet with production notes. Columbia also retailed a 40th anniversary edition of 'Strangelove' on two discs in 2004, with enhanced audio options and further supplements. Viewers appear to have been satisfied with both releases, but 'Dr. Strangelove' is a classic piece of film-making either way. It's required viewing for fans of vintage cinema.

*** out of 4

Roving Reviewer - www.geocities.com/paul_johnr

'Dirty Harry' was a two-pronged success for Clint Eastwood, as the 1971 thriller broke new ground in police films and earned over $28 million at the box office. With this good fortune, however, came backlash from writers such as Pauline Kael and Roger Ebert who judged the movie as 'fascist' and an endorsement of police brutality. The first Dirty Harry sequel, 1973's 'Magnum Force,' was a direct response to these claims and hoped to build on Harry's already-solid marketing power.

'Magnum Force' opens at City Hall in San Francisco, where mobster Carmine Ricca (Richard Devon) has been acquitted of killing a union leader and his entire family. Ricca is free on a technicality and drawing protests from those already sick of loopholes in the American justice system. When returning home from the trial, Ricca and his legal team are pulled over by a sunglass-wearing motorcycle cop who shoots dead all four men.

San Francisco's felons are dying in mysterious hits and the police have almost no clues. Inspector Harry Callahan (Eastwood), who has been transferred from the homicide division and worked recent months on stakeout, is ordered to investigate. The assignment comes unwillingly from Lieutenant Briggs (Hal Holbrook), a by-the-book administrator who is disgusted with Callahan's tactics. Callahan soon realizes that four motorcycle cops (David Soul, Tim Matheson, Kip Niven, and Robert Urich) are members of a sub-organization called Magnum Force that aims to wipe out crime in San Francisco, regardless of the cost to human life. Harry, who is seen as a prototype by Magnum Force, refuses to support it; he believes that any such group would endanger honest citizens rather than protect them.

One can't expect 'Magnum Force' to rival its predecessor, but this follow-up is still a major disappointment. The writing, direction, and technical work of 'Magnum Force' simply don't compare to Don Siegel's original film. Magnum Force's screenplay (by John Milius and Michael Cimino) does not have the tight plotting or razor-sharp dialogue that makes 'Dirty Harry' special. The plot is littered with conveniences such as Callahan eating at an airport snack bar when a hijacking occurs and Harry not being able to start a motorbike, which allows David Soul to catch up with him and engage in a chase. Also featured are an unnecessary love interest (played by Adele Yoshioka) and one-dimensional characters who only exist to be tortured and knocked off (including Margaret Avery as a prostitute who swallows drain cleaner). 'Magnum Force' doesn't build on its premise, yet drifts on crude tangents and is much longer (124 minutes) than it needs to be.

Don Siegel was replaced by Ted Post as director, whose experience is mainly in television. Post's direction is bland and without a clearly defined style; he frequently uses master shots rather than close-ups of actors and vehicles, which ruins the sinister, closed-in atmosphere that Magnum Force's death squad is supposed to generate. The action scenes are very basic in approach when their energy could have been heightened by some imaginative camera work. These sequences have a degree of excitement, but they rarely walk the levels of 'Dirty Harry,' whose action is quite limited. The cinematography by Frank Stanley is also a major jump down from that of Bruce Surtees in 'Dirty Harry.' 'Magnum Force' has a dreary appearance on lower-quality film stock; combined with the violence and trashy situations, 'Magnum Force' has an atmosphere similar to 'B' films by American International Pictures and Crown International. It's almost hard to believe that 'Magnum Force' was released by Warner Brothers and that Eastwood fills the starring role.

Strong performances by Eastwood and Holbrook keep 'Magnum Force' from being a complete disaster. The two veterans play their roles intensely and make the film considerably more entertaining than its script allows for. Supporting roles with Soul, Matheson, Niven, and Urich are effectively played, although their lack of identity in the biker squad makes this whole greater than the sum of its parts. Actors from 'Dirty Harry' such as Albert Popwell and John Mitchum reappear; Felton Perry has a dull turn as Harry's ill-fated partner. Lalo Schifrin is back as composer, which gives the series a further degree of continuity. The brilliant theme song combines his sleek orchestration and wordless vocals. Interestingly, Schifrin's music during the film is mostly background color rather than holding a dominant place.

Warner Brothers has released a snapper case version of its 'Magnum Force' DVD, improving the flimsy cardboard version previously sold. The DVD treats 'Magnum Force' with respect, but is weak on extras. 'Force' is presented in widescreen with Dolby 5.1 stereo enhancement; dubbing and subtitles are offered in five languages. Magnum Force's print is in fairly good condition, although grain is visible and colors look faded. Audio presentation is decent; while Schifrin's score comes across nicely, dialogue is sometimes muffled.

DVD extras include a commentary track with screenwriter John Milius; 'A Moral Right,' WB's 24-minute program on the social implications of Dirty Harry; 'The Hero Cop,' a short program released during Magnum Force's production; and a gallery with all five trailers from the Dirty Harry series. As a person who doesn't especially like John Milius's work, I found his self-righteous commentary grating. To worsen matters, the new program is only a rehash of ideas from Warner's 'Dirty Harry' DVD; I would've rather seen a 'making of' program that examines 'Magnum Force' in depth. On the plus side, its trailer gallery is an excellent look at Dirty Harry's evolution from 1971 into the 1980s. Harry fans will certainly be entertained (as I was), but the film and DVD never live up to their potential.

** ½ out of 4

Roving Reviewer - www.geocities.com/paul_johnr

Adapted from a biography by Peter Maas, 'Serpico' had major impact on how cinema depicts members of law enforcement. Unlike older stories that portray cops in an heroic light, 'Serpico' examines misconduct within the police system that screenwriters had rarely, if ever, addressed. In prior decades, the integrity of police officers was 'off-limits' for American film and television, a silence that Frank Serpico helped to break.

Serpico, who is now a college lecturer and mentor, joined the New York City Police Department in 1959 as a patrolman. He eventually became a plainclothes officer and found himself isolated after refusing kickbacks that fellow cops took with itchy palms. Serpico hoped to address the problem by following NYPD's chain of command, but was eventually behind a tell-all New York Times article that forced Mayor Lindsay to organize the Knapp Commission in 1970.

Dino De Laurentiis stepped forward to produce the film adaptation of Maas's book, written by Waldo Salt with revisions by Norman Wexler. 'Serpico' was filmed while the Knapp Commission lingered in American headlines. Veteran director Sidney Lumet came on board as an eleventh-hour choice and the film's starring role went to Al Pacino, who was Oscar-nominated for his turn in 'The Godfather' and would receive a Golden Globe (for Best Actor in a Dramatic Film) as the police outcast.

Running two hours and ten minutes, 'Serpico' is a straight-up biopic that focuses on the cop's hardest trials. Pacino, who met and studied the real-life officer, portrays Serpico as an intense, driven figure who was equally open-minded and thickheaded. There was an intellectual, adventurous Serpico who enjoyed ballet with his girlfriend, studied the habits of animals, and looked for the good in all people; on the other hand, he was a self-loathing, arrogant fellow who was consumed by the no-win battles he vowed to fight. Serpico, at least on film, is admirable in his demands for police integrity but not very likable as a man in private. As the film progresses, we see him do little except walk a dog, complain about recent plights, and run two lovers into the ground.

Total heroism, however, is reserved for fiction. Serpico was an unusual cop with glaring strengths and weaknesses in his personality. Pacino succeeds in bringing out the many facets of Serpico and is helped by an able supporting cast. Since the film was tightly budgeted, most supporting roles were filled by lesser-known but capable actors: Tony winner John Randolph ('Earthquake,' 'You've Got Mail') plays Sidney Green, a police chief who respects Serpico from the beginning. Biff McGuire is adequate as Captain McClain, a counselor whom Serpico asks for help but is unreliable. Tony Roberts fills the role of Bob Blair, a hotshot detective with 'connections' to the Mayor's Office. Cornelia Sharpe (Leslie) and Barbara Eda-Young (Laurie) fare well as Serpico's love interests. Curiously, well-known actors F. Murray Abraham and Judd Hirsch have uncredited bits as police officers. 'Hill Street Blues' alumnus René Enríquez appears briefly as a Spanish literature instructor.

Sidney Lumet's direction is very good as usual, but the film has its weaknesses. The main problem rests in Waldo Salt and Norman Wexler's script (cut down from 240 pages!), which focuses on Serpico and his lonely position in the NYPD hierarchy. Most of the supporting characters - who dart in and out of the storyline - are only used to push matters along and lack true dimension. The far-reaching impact of Serpico is not examined in detail, either. For those who were not around to feel the Knapp Commission's impact in 1971, 'Serpico' appears told from the main character's self-imposed bubble.

Editing by Dede Allen and Richard Marks is also not to the high standard of Lumet's other films. Dialogue is occasionally out of sync with the actors and changes of angle are not quite correct. This was not entirely the technicians' fault, as a breakneck schedule forced Allen and Marks to edit the film while shooting. Lumet did not want a score (he did not use one, for instance, in 'Network'), but was forced to compromise with De Laurentiis; the few clips of music by Mikis Theodorakis (arranged by Bob James) are schlocky and an unwelcome distraction. A major strong point is Serpico's photography by Arthur Ornitz ('Death Wish,' 'An Unmarried Woman'), the late cinematographer who specialized in New York City venues.

Overall, 'Serpico' is a wall-to-wall Al Pacino vehicle that delivers. Perhaps a bit too long and technically imperfect, the breadth of Frank Serpico's legacy and the determined role-playing of Pacino make 'Serpico' a film of lasting importance. Paramount Pictures, the film's original distributor, has realized this and assembled a strong DVD of 'Serpico' for its Widescreen Collection. The 'Serpico' disc gives justice to Arthur Ornitz's photography, using a print with clean visuals and strong colors; grain is rare in backgrounds and there are no visible artifacts.

Sound is offered in Dolby Digital 5.1 surround, the restored mono track, and dubbed French. Subtitles are provided in English only. The mono track was used for reviewing this film and sounds of average quality; dialogue is sometimes muffled by background noise but Theodorakis's score comes through loud and clear. Sizeable extras include 'Serpico: from Real to Reel,' a ten-minute featurette on co-producer Martin Bregman and director Sidney Lumet's genesis of the material; 'Inside Serpico,' a 13-minute program on Serpico's filming; a gallery of images and advertising materials with commentary by Lumet on the film's music; and the theatrical trailer. Unfortunately, Pacino himself is not interviewed, while the extras and DVD case fail to mention his Golden Globe win and Oscar nomination for the role (?). Yet Paramount's disc is highly informative and pays more than enough homage to a famous story of the 1970s.

*** out of 4

Roving Reviewer - www.geocities.com/paul_johnr

Few people have a lukewarm opinion of Brian De Palma's films. His public usually divides between adulation that ranks De Palma with the likes of Alfred Hitchcock and repulsion that tags him as a derivative, misogynistic hack. When emotions are running this high, every film put out by such a director will be hot to handle and 'Dressed to Kill,' a 1980 thriller using De Palma's own screenplay, is no exception.

'Dressed to Kill' is a film that borrows from earlier sources, most obviously Hitchcock's 'Psycho' and Dario Argento's 'The Bird with the Crystal Plumage.' What raises 'Dressed' above knock-off status, however, is the means by which De Palma uses cliché to explore other possibilities. The film may be derivative, but it's not a plain carbon copy; De Palma, with his American viewpoint and tongue-in-cheek style, puts bizarre spins on old ideas and joins together a superb piece of exploitation cinema.

De Palma's screenplay uses a plot line modeled after 'Psycho' that tracks the activities of one woman before splintering off into numerous characters who are given equal weight. The woman in this case is Kate Miller, a suburban New York housewife played by Angie Dickinson. In the film's opening scenes, it becomes clear that Kate is trapped in an unsatisfying relationship with her second husband; we witness an imaginary sequence in which Kate is taken hold by a strange man in her shower, followed by her faking of an orgasm during a real (and quick) meeting in bed.

Afterwards, Kate visits Manhattan psychiatrist Robert Elliott (Michael Caine) and expresses her urge to have an affair. Kate then enters the Metropolitan Museum of Art to have lunch with her mother-in-law, instead picking up a male patron (Ken Baker) for an afternoon fling in unconventional places. Suffice it to say that Kate's fling has dire consequences and brings prostitute Liz Blake (Nancy Allen, Golden Globe-nominated), Kate's teenage son Peter (Keith Gordon, eyeglasses and hair predating Harry Potter by two decades), and New York City detective Marino (Dennis Franz) into a twisted murder investigation.

While elements of Hitchcock are present, 'Dressed to Kill' actually feels closer to the Italian giallo and, indeed, comparisons have been made. Part of what gives Italian thrillers charm (á la Argento and Mario Bava) is how one film puts customized 'touches' on material used in another. 'Dressed to Kill,' while American, operates in similar ways; Kate Miller, for example, dies in a Psycho-like manner and composer Pino Donaggio's scoring of her death is modeled after Bernard Herrmann. We all want originality in film, but it's also difficult to revitalize old ideas, which De Palma achieves repeatedly. To rank De Palma with Hitchcock may be stretching matters, but he is certainly a director with vision and a distinct style.

'Dressed to Kill' would fail totally if not for the strong performance of Angie Dickinson. Dickinson is the center of attention for an entire half-hour and she generates more than enough sympathy to care about what is happening on screen. She is particularly impressive during moments of facial expression and no dialogue, which are moments when De Palma is at his unquestionable best. Michael Caine is the outstanding male lead, playing a seedy role with focus and intensity. Also watch for Dennis Franz's police shtick that carried over to 'Hill Street Blues' and 'NYPD Blue.' Nancy Allen, who was nominated for a Golden Globe and Razzie in the same year (?), gives a strong effort and is quite likable; I just wish her delivery were a little more forceful.

The strongest technical element of this film is Pino Donaggio's music. Donaggio's score is breathtaking and one of the few I've heard that can be judged as a self-contained work of art. The music is at times sweepingly romantic, at other times frantic through its chromaticism and impassioned triplets. 'Dressed to Kill' was nicely photographed by Ralf Bode ('Saturday Night Fever,' 'Gorky Park') and Oscar-winning editor Jerry Greenberg ('The French Connection,' 'Apocalypse Now') constructed the film to maximum dramatic effect.

While 'Dressed to Kill' has its share of lovers and detractors, MGM Home Entertainment seems to view the film with unusually strong regard. In 2001, MGM released a 'special edition' DVD that no fan of the movie can be without. The film is given widescreen presentation (2.35:1 aspect ratio) with a choice of enhanced Dolby 5.1 English audio, the original English mono track, and French 'dubbing;' subtitles are provided in French and Spanish. Edited before its U.S. release to avoid an 'X' rating from the MPAA, Dressed to Kill's disc supplies both the theatrical and uncut versions for comparison. Extras include a 45-minute documentary on the film's production; a featurette comparing the uncut, R-rated, and network television versions; a featurette on the censorship and negative reaction faced by De Palma; a photo gallery using Donaggio's music; a gallery of advertising materials; and the theatrical trailer.

The film's visuals are generally okay, with strong, distinguishable colors. I am not a fan of audio enhancements when the original track was in mono; for 'Dressed to Kill,' I went straight to its mono option because I wanted to hear the film as it sounded in 1980. For some reason, the film has not been restored completely. There is frequent grain, occasional print damage, and noticeable debris such as hair. The extras, however, make up for these problems. De Palma, his crew, and his cast (without Michael Caine) discuss their experiences, including the director's unpleasant situation with the MPAA and feminist groups. It's disappointing not to hear from Michael Caine, but the disc is in need of little else. Filmways Pictures was heading into extinction by the time 'Dressed to Kill' hit cinema screens, but survived long enough to bring De Palma's cult classic into the world.

*** ½ out of 4

Roving Reviewer - www.geocities.com/paul_johnr

Charles Bronson's tenure in Europe featured roles vastly different from his potboilers of the late 1970s and 1980s. 'Città violenta' AKA 'Violent City' or 'The Family' is an example that was co-written and directed by Sergio Sollima, known mostly for against-the-grain thrillers and westerns. 'Violent City' is part of Bronson's sizeable résumé in international co-productions, which includes the Sergio Leone epic 'Once Upon a Time in the West' and René Clément's 'Rider on the Rain.' The film appeared during Italy's creative shift from the giallo to the poliziottescho, an over-the-top crime film that depicts urban life on the brink of chaos. Effectively made and highly unpleasant, 'Violent City' hits paydirt with its cast of Bronson, eventual 'Kojak' star Telly Savalas, and Jill Ireland, who acted in over a dozen films with her husband.

Filmed at excellent locations in the U.S. Virgin Islands and New Orleans, 'Violent City' is vaguely similar to Bronson's 1972 drama 'The Mechanic.' Bronson plays Jeff Heston, a freelance assassin who is vacationing with his lover, jet-setting fashion model Vanessa Sheldon (Ireland). While enjoying a quiet trip, Jeff and Vanessa find themselves tailed by a band of hit men who are looking to finish Heston off. A car chase ensues in which Jeff is left for dead and Vanessa flees the scene with Coogan (Michel Constantin), a racecar driver who had previously hired Jeff to murder his uncle. Jeff is saved on an operating table, thrown into jail on suspicion of murder, and released with help from his lawyer Steve (Umberto Orsini). He returns to the U.S. and asks heroin-shooting investigator Killain (Michel Constantin again) to locate Vanessa so he can get to the bottom of things. Jeff soon finds himself in a love triangle with Vanessa and New Orleans mobster Al Weber (Savalas), who has since married his girlfriend.

Unlike crime films by such directors as Umberto Lenzi and Ruggero Deodato that pour on the bloodshed, Sollima uses action sparingly and puts greater focus on character development. The film seems to have an almost Marxist undertone in dealing with Jeff and Vanessa as peons amidst a huge game where money (especially Weber's) is the determining factor. All of the characters are self-serving and unlikable; the only person you can really sympathize with is Vanessa, who finds herself in one erotic jam after another. But even then, Vanessa is a woman who continuously seeks power rather than trying to escape the cycle. The only admirable feature of Jeff Heston, meanwhile, is a desire for self-respect that often loses control and translates into bloodlust.

While 'Violent City' is an effective thriller, it is bogged down at times by Sollima's heavy-handed, overtly political style. Sollima is a skilled director who knows how to counterbalance action and character far more than others of his generation. Violent City's opening car chase is expertly filmed and leaves you breathless, while later scenes gaze into the characters' psyches. However, 'Violent City' has stretches of philosophizing (wealth as power, control of the mass media, etc.) that get on one's nerves. This philosophizing helps to give characters dimension, but the script (co-written by Sollima and Lina Wertmüller, director of 'Seven Beauties') becomes too preachy for its own good. What helps to make other Spaghetti crime films effective is their fast tempo, leaving worn-on-the-sleeve philosophy in the background.

Nevertheless, the three lead actors play their roles solidly. Bronson is a marginal character for once and shows the range of talent that he possessed. Savalas seems to be having fun in his role as Weber, taking full advantage of the wisecracks with Heston. This is also the best work I have seen from Jill Ireland, largely because her role asks for more than usual. Umberto Orsini and Michel Constantin are decent as supporting actors but overshadowed by the English-speaking leads. 'Violent City' is competently edited by Nino Baragli and photographed by Aldo Tonti, who later shot Dino Di Laurentiis's 'The Valachi Papers.' The score by Ennio Morricone is well-made as usual, although it's quite similar to his other Spaghetti crime films (especially 'Milano Odia').

'Violent City' has received an excellent DVD release from Anchor Bay Entertainment; it gets fine presentation with several extras and restores footage not seen in its previous English releases. The film is offered in widescreen (2.35:1, enhanced for 16 x 9 televisions) with dubbing options in English, French, and Italian. Extras include a 15-minute interview with Sergio Sollima, a gallery of stills and posters, bios of the lead cast and crew, and the theatrical trailer. 'Violent City' has good print quality, although colors seem a bit washed out at times; artifacts and grain are rare. The original mono track is supplied with Dolby enhancement, making dialogue, effects, and Morricone's soundtrack crystal clear.

Because the restored footage was never dubbed into English, it is supplied in Italian with English subtitles. This occurs at various points in the film, some apparently for censorship reasons and others by decision of the filmmakers; inconsequent lines were sliced from conversations between actors, while racy moments were toned down, such as Heston forcing himself on Vanessa. Nothing of impact was previously missing, but the restored footage does help to make 'Violent City' a smoother, more developed film. Overall, it's an interesting project from Bronson, Savalas, and Ireland, although its weighed-down atmosphere costs it a few points.

** ½ out of 4

'Per qualche dollaro in più' AKA 'For A Few Dollars More' bears the curse of a middle sibling, overlooked while Sergio Leone's 'Fistful of Dollars' and mammoth-sized 'The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly' draw wider attention. This is not necessarily a bad thing, since anyone who watches 'For A Few Dollars More' with lower expectations has a chance of being surprised. Realizing the success of his original film, Leone put considerably more work into his script and direction this time around. 'For A Few Dollars More,' co-written mainly by Leone and Luciano Vincenzoni, develops its characters to a fuller extent, is based on a more expansive scale, and uses technical aspects such as editing, music, and sound to form a more cohesive, almost symphonic plot line.

Once again, Leone does not specify a time for the action but names places in New Mexico and Texas. The story opens in Tucumcari, a small New Mexican town, where the Man With No Name (Clint Eastwood, called 'Monco' in this film) and former colonel Douglas Mortimer (Lee Van Cleef) arrive separately to ply their trade as bounty hunters. The men find wanted posters of El Indio (Gian Maria Volontè), a psychotic robber who is busted out of prison by his gang. Eastwood and Mortimer realize that the odds of a single man finishing off Indio's gang are slim; the men decide to work together and split $20,000 in reward money, should they walk away from the killings. Their plan to nab Indio at the central bank in El Paso fails, allowing him to get away with thousands of dollars and considerably upping the reward for his head. Eastwood and Mortimer lock horns as matters unfold, but wisely respect and depend upon each other's skills. We also learn that one of the bounty hunters carries a second and deeper-lying reason for tracking Indio down.

While Eastwood remains a solid presence as the Man With No Name, Lee Van Cleef is superb as Mortimer, a refined, dapper individual who can gunsling with the best of them. Mortimer puts Eastwood's character in striking relief, undoing much of the superhero element that impels 'Fistful of Dollars.' He forms a rugged pair with Eastwood and reminds us that even the best fighters can use some help. Gian Maria Volontè has the thankless job of dying in back-to-back films but gives excellent character work as a rogue who has surrendered to inner demons and holds no sanctity for human life. Other actors return from 'Fistful of Dollars,' including Joseph Egger (as Old Prophet), Benito Stefanelli (Luke), and Aldo Sambrell (Cuccillo). Cult icon Klaus Kinski also has a role as gang member Wild the Hunchback.

After shoe-stringing 'Fistful of Dollars,' Leone had a visibly larger budget in the second film. Again recorded in the Andalucía region of Spain, 'For A Few Dollars More' uses expansive outdoor settings and wide interiors while employing a larger cast and numerous extras. There is simply more room to work with and more things are going on, all presented in Leone's unique style. Leone shows greater confidence with his material, employing closeup, flashback, and deceptive angles quite liberally. The superior production values could only help cinematographer Massimo Dallamano, whose lens captured every nuance of the 'southwestern' heat. Ennio Morricone has great moments in 'Fistful of Dollars,' but the famed orchestrations come into their own during this sequel. By intermingling a large orchestra and chorus with aspects of the plot (especially the chimes of a stolen pocket watch), Morricone's score becomes a fourth main character who offers psychological insight.

Admittedly, 'For A Few Dollars More' is pure gold for those who love errors - there are obvious goofs such as playing cards that look too new for the 19th century, missing teeth that reappear, and ignored historical facts (Tucumcari, New Mexico, didn't exist until 1901). The dubbing is just as bad as in 'Fistful of Dollars,' if not worse; Eastwood's own voice is out of sync at times and the dubbing of non-English actors is terrible. However, these problems do nothing to spoil Leone's overlying effort. 'For A Few Dollars More' is an absorbing experience in the western genre, rivaled only by his 'The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly' and 'Once Upon a Time in the West.' There are actually a large number of fans and critics who rate 'For A Few Dollars More' over 'The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly' because of its shorter running time (131 minutes) and more concentrated development.

Western fans had a long stretch before the advent of DVD, when full frame VHS tapes and TV broadcasts robbed 'For A Few Dollars More' of its sharpness. MGM, who holds first rights to United Artists' library, released a DVD in 1998 that is closer to Leone's original vision. The disc, which is offered both individually and as part of a 'Man With No Name' boxed set, presents 'For A Few' in letterbox format (2.35:1) with Dolby enhancement of the original mono track; French 'dubbing' is offered with subtitles in English, French, and Spanish. 'For A Few Dollars More' has respectable print quality with only occasional grain and speckling; sound quality is very good, balancing dialogue, effects such as gunshots, and Morricone's ever-important score. The only extra is For A Few's trailer, which points out anglicized names taken by Volontè and Leone in 'Fistful of Dollars.' MGM has since released a two-DVD special edition with major restorations and supplements as part of the Sergio Leone Anthology. Either way, the film is highly recommended and a must for collectors.

*** out of 4

Roving Reviewer - www.geocities.com/paul_johnr

Three years after enjoying success with 'Taxi Driver,' Paul Schrader revisited one of his favorite themes - pornography - in 'Hardcore,' this time doubling as screenwriter and director. Made when adult films had a sizeable mainstream presence, 'Hardcore' delves into issues that many filmmakers are reluctant to lay hands on. The film draws from experiences in Schrader's own life, including the religious conservatism of his youth, his encounters with the oversexed mass media, and the trauma faced by men outside of their usual environment.

'Hardcore' focuses on Jake Van Dorn (George C. Scott), a furniture company owner based in the heavily Christian city of Grand Rapids, Michigan. The divorced Jake lives in this tightly-knit community with his daughter Kristen (Ilah Davis), a quiet, unassuming teenager. While at a youth retreat in California, Kristen suddenly becomes missing and Jake, with brother-in-law Wes (Dick Sargent) in tow, visits law enforcement to begin a search. He hires slimeball private investigator Andy Mast (Peter Boyle), who soon discovers Kristen in a cheap 8 MM sex film that has been distributed to porn shops.

After months without a lead, Jake runs out of patience and fires Mast, who hobnobs with members of the sex trade. Jake takes it upon himself to search the Los Angeles underground and find his daughter, posing as an auto parts investor looking to finance adult movies. Eventually, he connects with Niki (Season Hubley), an actress and prostitute who may know of Kristen's whereabouts. The search moves from Los Angeles to San Diego to San Francisco, whose underbelly rears a truly depraved head. The lingering question is what shape Jake's daughter will be found in, if found at all.

Building on issues first seen in 'Taxi Driver,' Schrader's portrayal of the American sex trade is caustic. From the moment that Jake arrives in downtown L.A., he is engulfed by adult book stores, sex parlors, pick-up bars, and the unseemly people who fill them. The adult film industry, in particular, is brimming with lowlifes who recruit vulnerable men and women. Schrader, who was raised by strict Calvinists in Michigan, creates an edgy melodrama that outlines the duplicity of American life. The U.S. is home to both a large Christian population and a massive sex industry that remain at odds with one another but somehow manage to coexist. The strange link between Jake and Niki represents this paradox, two completely opposite ways of life that exist side by side. They discuss (or argue) life issues while traveling, but already understand that both are rooted in his or her ways and will never tolerate the opposing view.

While Jake is a smart and resourceful man, he is also volatile and laughably naïve. He has an isolated life in Middle America, oblivious to goings-on in other parts of the country. Jake shows disbelief over how such a personal act as sex can become a public fixation; he is obviously not a man of the world and has shielded himself from changes in American society. But the love that Jake carries for his daughter is unwavering and he will go to vast extremes, even if it means swamping himself in the people and material he finds offensive. Ironically, Jake's righteous attitude may have played a role in driving out Kristen and his wife, although Schrader leaves this issue unresolved. A conversation between Kristen and her cousin Marsha (Karen Kruer) also suggests a budding sexuality that the porn business could take advantage of, whether Kristen feels loved by her parents or not.

George C. Scott gives a solid performance and makes Jake Van Dorn quite believable. His work with Season Hubley is nicely thought out and defines the impulse of his character. Hubley is startling in her role as a sex-obsessed woman who is running from an abusive childhood and never has a true chance at stability. Peter Boyle is an appropriately sleazy investigator who rescues young women but likes porn and hookers just as much as the next guy. Schrader gets strong acting out of his cast, despite an antipathy that Scott felt for him by project's end. Giving further life to 'Hardcore' is music by Jack Nitzsche that pits the conservative leanings of Grand Rapids (folk, hymns) with the funky, chaotic vibe of Los Angeles (synthesizers and electric guitar).

We will never see Schrader's true vision of 'Hardcore,' since his overhead at Columbia Pictures demanded an upbeat ending. The result is a tacked-on finale that doesn't fit what preceded. Schrader, who wanted a tragic ending, hated this alteration and it shows; the final scene between Jake and Kristen is poorly made. This, however, fails to change Hardcore's effectiveness. As a work of social commentary, 'Hardcore' easily ranks with 'Taxi Driver' and 'Autofocus' in dealing with this unpleasant issue.

'Hardcore' will celebrate its 30th birthday next year and as of now, there is just a bare-bones DVD in circulation. Columbia Pictures' 2004 release offers nothing special; it presents 'Hardcore' without supplementary items. 'Hardcore' is shown in widescreen with English mono and subtitles in English, Japanese, and Spanish. The only extras (if you want to call 'em that) are trailers for upcoming Columbia films. There is no trailer offered for 'Hardcore,' nor is there a commentary or interview with Schrader.

The film has a clean visual transfer with distinguishable colors; grain is visible on occasion but actually enhances the film's seedy atmosphere. Columbia bombs in the sound department with its poor control of dialogue, background, and music; Jack Nitszche's score blasts at key moments and spoken words are often muffled. For a film of this quality, its DVD is greatly lacking. Still, 'Hardcore' rates as one of the 1970s' better films and is worth the cost of admission.

*** out of 4

Roving Reviewer - www.geocities.com/paul_johnr

It's something of a miracle that director Michael Winner was granted access to the Central Intelligence Agency for his filming of 'Scorpio.' This 1972 spy thriller, made just after the height of Cold War tensions, sheds a nasty light on espionage and had crew members that weren't favorites of Washington. The film's script was co-written by David Rintels, who experienced problems entering the U.S. from Canada on grounds of suspected Communist leanings, and its score was composed by Jerry Fielding, who was blacklisted from Hollywood during the McCarthy era. In a matter of further coincidence that helped Scorpio's box office, its cast and crew were staying at the Watergate Hotel when Richard Nixon's recruits broke into Democratic Party Headquarters; supposedly, lead actors Burt Lancaster and Alain Delon were in the building when these gentlemen performed their deeds.

Controversies aside, 'Scorpio' was made after the peak of spy films but rates as an intriguing entry to the genre. It features a solid cast in Lancaster, Delon, and thespian Paul Scofield, while making fair use of Washington, Paris, and Vienna. 'Scorpio' is certainly not in the upper echelon of spy pictures, but it's a decent effort that moves against the grain of standard espionage. Its script by David Rintels (in his film debut) and Gerald Wilson erases our concept of good and evil, depicting the Cold War's underlying operations as a vast endgame where human life is of practically no value and loyalty is regarded as fatal weakness.

Lancaster plays Gerald Cross, an experienced CIA agent with various contacts in Europe and the Middle East. His superiors, including CIA head McLeod (John Colicos) believe that Cross is serving as a double agent between the U.S. and Soviet Bloc, padding his finances along the way. Sensing a threat to national security, the CIA forcibly hires Jean Laurier (Delon, codenamed 'Scorpio'), a French assassin who has provided services to the U.S. government. Laurier is logically best for the job, since it was Cross who trained him and to whom he revealed his ways of thinking. Cross realizes that he is under surveillance and flees to Europe, leaving behind his wife Sarah (Joanne Linville). He hides in Vienna with assistance from Serge Zharkov (Scofield), a KGB agent who befriended Cross while in Iraq.

'Scorpio' is a vast labyrinth of political infighting and backstabbing. Well-portrayed by Burt Lancaster, Cross is constantly on the move and hopes to reunite with his wife, but he's aware that time is inevitably running out. Laurier, aptly played by Delon, finds himself torn between friendship and his own survival; he knows that Cross must be killed, but stalls out of his respect for teacher and partner. Laurier is looking to flee the espionage world himself and even deals with betrayal from his fiancée Susan (Gayle Hunnicutt), who works as a courier. Not coincidentally, the CIA higher-ups are depicted as psychotics who won't hesitate to kill off women, children, and physically handicapped for the sake of 'national security.' 'Scorpio' is in the tradition of spy films where nobody wins and all sides are involved in an endless chain of murder.

Lancaster is a strong presence and eye-opening in numerous action scenes, especially a construction site chase between Cross and Laurier. Unfortunately, Delon's low-key performance suffers because of this; although Delon is steady, he is drastically offset by Lancaster and a thick accent sometimes leaves him hard to understand. Paul Scofield is likable and charismatic, playing a 'rehabilitated' agent who served years in a labor camp but has not lost faith in the USSR's decrepit ideologies. The supporting cast, including John Colicos, brings a large amount of energy to their roles.

Michael Winner recorded 'Scorpio' about two years before 'Death Wish,' which made his name as a director. 'Scorpio' has fairly plain direction and uses fewer of the camera movements and bizarre angles that would saturate Winner's later oeuvre. This is certainly one of his better films, although it is lacking in the technical department. Scorpio's dialogue track is sometimes out of kilter with the on-screen actors and there are continuity mistakes like an auto driven by Lancaster that becomes intact after smashing into a carload of federal agents! I sometimes ask if Winner made these goofs as a joke, but it does hamper the film's authenticity. Winner cannot be faulted for sticking with cinematographer Robert Paynter ('Hannibal Brooks,' 'Superman II') and composer Jerry Fielding. Paynter's images are always clean and efficient, while Fielding offers a versatile score that comes together in the finale.

MGM latched onto Scorpio's Watergate connection when releasing its DVD in 2000. The case includes a four-page booklet with trivia on Scorpio's production. Lancaster, incidentally, didn't consider his role beyond a usual project. The disc presents 'Scorpio' in widescreen with optional French dubbing and subtitles in both French and English. 'Scorpio' has fair visual quality; colors are discernible, but there is continuous grain and speckling. Narrow black bars are used, leaving 'Scorpio' just shy of an open matte presentation. The audio is Dolby-enhanced mono, with non-English accents sometimes (and unavoidably) muddying the dialogue. Scorpio's theatrical trailer is the only DVD extra.

'Scorpio' is dated, but dated in a good way. The film was made years before production companies replaced acting and scriptwriting with huge effects and 'icons' who merely take up room on screen. 'Scorpio' is cleverly written and relies on the durability of Lancaster, Delon, and Scofield to keep things in gear. There is always a better spy film to watch - 'The Spy Who Came in from the Cold' is one such example - but 'Scorpio' still belongs in the category of highly watchable thrillers and has a large nostalgia value in its cast.

*** out of 4

Roving Reviewer - www.geocities.com/paul_johnr

'Contro 4 Bandiere' AKA 'From Hell to Victory' was a last hurrah in epic war film-making for director Umberto Lenzi. Lenzi first broke into this genre during the late 1960s when he made two Second World War potboilers, 'Desert Commandos' (1967) and 'Battle of the Commandos' (1969). While cheaply made, the films were energetic and drew attention to a young talent. Nearly a decade passed, however, before Lenzi touched upon war films again, preferring to work in giallo, poliziottescho, and horror. 'The Greatest Battle,' Lenzi's third war film, was a highly-budgeted flop in 1978 that included Henry Fonda, John Huston, and Orson Welles. Just one year later, Lenzi was given another chance with 'From Hell to Victory,' a bungled French-Italian co-production that again offered noteworthy actors and sizable production values.

Outside of a few gialli and poliziotteschi, there are not many good things to say about Lenzi's résumé and his critics will find plenty of ammunition in 'From Hell to Victory.' The film offers a unique concept, but its plot line and script are mostly a rewrite of 'The Greatest Battle,' shown in theaters just one year before. Producer Edmondo Amati's inability to finance battle scenes is also clear throughout, with Lenzi using stock footage to piece together the action. While such cleverness may have worked in cinemas thirty years ago, Lenzi's penny-pinching is easily dissected through VHS tapes and DVD, making him an easy target for ridicule.

'From Hell to Victory' opens in August, 1939, at a Parisian riverside café, where six intellectuals are enjoying a day out. With war on the horizon, these friends agree to reunite at the café every August 24th, regardless of circumstance. The Second World War breaks up their plans, however, as all six people disband across Europe. American Brett Rosson (George Peppard) becomes an OSS officer and meets up with estranged son Jim (Ray Lovelock), who is disgusted by his relationship with a French heiress (Capucine). Frenchman Maurice Bernard (George Hamilton) survives the Dunkirk evacuation and becomes a commando for the allied forces. Englishman Richard Sanders (Jean-Pierre Cassel), also a Dunkirk veteran, protects his country as an RAF fighter. German Jürgen Dietrich (Horst Buchholz) becomes a high-ranking Nazi officer. Second American Ray MacDonald (Sam Wanamaker) becomes a war correspondent in London, finally meeting his grown English daughter Mary (May Heatherly). The lone woman of the six is Fabienne Bonnoir (Anny Duperey), who joins the French Resistance.

Like 'The Greatest Battle,' this film uses its characters as a springboard for wartime events. However, the script of 'From Hell to Victory' is considerably better; rather than using the characters as superficial glue, they are a key element of what is taking place. These six people are important to the larger wartime scenarios and they undergo a small amount of development. The storyline is more fleshed out than in 'The Greatest Battle' and there are actually some touching moments. To the film's credit, 'From Hell to Victory' is well-acted; Peppard, Hamilton, and the other cast members have sympathy for their roles and do their best to overcome the script's weaknesses.

However, 'From Hell to Victory' is a technical fiasco. It is poorly shot, has incredibly bad editing, and does a rotten job of 'pretending' to be on a much greater scale than was actually filmed. When away from the battlefields, 'From Hell to Victory' has a fair amount of competence; but Lenzi (credited as 'Hank Milestone') did not have billions of francs or lira at his disposal and was forced to use aerial and infantry stock footage from larger productions. Care was taken in the new sequences to make them fit with the old, but it's all too obvious that clips were taken from another source. Lenzi and hack editor Vincenzo Tomassi attempted to hide this by using breakneck pacing and angle-changing that has been a constant in the director's films. This fast pace captures the insane atmosphere of war, but it also looks poorly organized and amateurish. Cinematographer José Luis Alcaine has won numerous awards for his work and you would never know it from the murky, uncoordinated picture that's on display here. On the other hand, there is fairly good dubbing and the uplifting orchestral score of Riz Ortolani actually rates with Hollywood compositions.

With the Italian film industry waning in 1979, 'From Hell to Victory' was Lenzi's final chance to direct an epic and he finished light years short in most respects. 'From Hell to Victory' was doomed to budget limitations and had its fate sealed from the outset. This is unfortunate, because a wonderful idea is hiding underneath the poor script, slapdash direction, and horrendous technical work. One can only guess what might have resulted from a company with more time and finances at its disposal. Certainly, the film's plot would have been more thorough (it's just 101 minutes long!) and perhaps a few genuine planes and tanks would have been thrown into the bargain.

'From Hell to Victory' was actually broadcast on CBS Television in the mid-80s and has survived on VHS tape amongst collectors. In 2004, Trinity Home Entertainment released a no-frills DVD that doesn't really improve on older versions. The film is presented in widescreen, but seems to have an incorrect aspect ratio at times; I can't tell if this resulted from a poor transfer or bad filming on Lenzi's part. Trinity never seems to clean up the titles in their catalogue and, unsurprisingly, this film is loaded with grain and artifacts. The sound is in Dolby 2.0, which brings Riz Ortolani's score to the forefront; however, dialogue carries an underlying hiss and crackle. You can forget about extras on this disc and it would be nice if Lenzi were interviewed about his war films at some point, especially since they drew the best actors of his career. If nothing else, 'From Hell to Victory' is a curious item and deserves one look for its major cast.

** out of 4

In 1974, moviegoers packed cinemas to watch a Dino De Laurentiis actioner called 'Death Wish,' which had unexpected resonance in America's cities. Building on trends set by the 1971 police film 'Dirty Harry,' this Charles Bronson vehicle asked major questions about how society should fight crime. Through the decade's remaining years, a torrent of similar films were released including 'Lipstick,' a 1976 De Laurentiis project that has been called Death Wish's female offshoot.

While not a vigilante drama per se, 'Lipstick' certainly belongs on the menu of films whose characters are violated and rendered helpless. At the time of its release, 'Lipstick' easily brought comparisons to 'Death Wish,' which did no favors to the movie's reputation; critics such as Roger Ebert have trashed it, placing it on a level with 'Ms. .45' and William Lustig's 'Vigilante.' It has been viewed as another knockoff that exploits a serious subject and the performances of its lead cast have been panned. I, however, need to differ on these views; 'Lipstick' is no masterwork and clings to the sensationalism of its time, but it can still be a relevant piece of film-making.

Margaux Hemingway, the first model in world history to a sign a million-dollar contract, plays her debut film role as Chris McCormick, a (guess what?) Los Angeles model who is looking after her young sister Kathy (played by real-life sister Mariel). While shooting photos for a lipstick campaign, Chris is introduced to Gordon Stuart (Chris Sarandon), a grammar school music teacher and composer to whom Kathy has taken an innocent shine. Chris naively invites Stuart to their apartment the following afternoon and begins to sense that all is not well with him mentally; besides shifty behavior, his electronically-generated music sounds fresh out of a demented video game. During playback, Chris's phone rings with a male acquaintance and Stuart becomes enraged by her beauty and attractiveness to other men. Chris is groped, beaten, and sexually tortured while fastened with scarves to her bed.

Stuart is arrested and put on trial, but the 'justice' system makes things worse for Chris rather than better. She is under constant scrutiny from the press, is forced to relive the experience again while on the stand, and must use her sister Kathy, who walked in after the rape, as a witness. It is only assistant district attorney Carla Bondi (Anne Bancroft), a forceful woman, who supplies her with the hope of a conviction. Instead, Stuart gets off scot-free after Chris is portrayed as a woman who enjoys 'flaunting' her body and engaging in sadomasochism.

Because of the violent finale in which Chris seeks revenge, 'Lipstick' has drawn comparisons with 'Death Wish' even though it deals far more with the troubles of a woman who is physically harmed; in 'Death Wish,' Paul Kersey is a male victim through indirect, albeit close, circumstances. 'Lipstick' has also been condemned as exploitation, but that is perhaps only true in the film's second half when David Rayfiel's script begins to fall apart. The initial rape scene is filthy and uses explicit angles of Chris's body, but it shows the depraved act for what it is and how it can reduce a vibrant woman into the object of a man's perversions. 'Lipstick' also does well (at least from a male's perspective) to depict the bitterness and rage such a victim must feel.

Unfortunately, 'Lipstick' caves into sensationalism as things progress. An odd thing happens in the later trial scenes, when Kathy is again called to the stand; defense attorney Nathan Cartright (Robin Gammell) instills reasonable doubt in the jury by showing that Kathy was not distressed from seeing Chris and Gordon in bed. Moments later, the jury returns a 'not guilty' verdict. While this is highly possible, Rayfiel's script and Lamont Johnson's direction fail to make it convincing; the movie is fairing superbly until this point.

Plot conveniences really take over, such as Chris allowing Kathy to walk around an empty office complex that is somehow visited that day by Gordon Stuart(!) The film ends with Carla Bondi 'leaving' the district attorney's office(!) to defend Chris after she shoots Gordon dead with a hunting rifle. The lackluster writing is a shame, because 'Lipstick' is a film with enduring impact. Even now, women in America are treated horrendously and only a small percentage of sexual assaults are reported to law enforcement; there is also a swarm of people who believe that certain women are 'asking for it' when carrying an openness to their sexuality, as if their saying 'no' becomes any less valid.

Considering that both were in their debut, Margaux and Mariel Hemingway are excellent in this film. Margaux has been slammed for an over-the-top performance, but it was clearly a role that she worked hard to portray. Of course, she was ideally suited to play a model on film; she was tall, stunningly beautiful, and of a pleasant demeanor. Mariel also shows an easy-going personality and knew - even then - how to perform with subtlety. The supporting cast is fairly good, although Chris Sarandon and Anne Bancroft have their moments of chewing up the set. Aside from its heavy subject matter, 'Lipstick' is quite a beginning for two sisters - one who grew into a star and the other who left us far too soon.

'Lipstick' is currently on DVD with minimal treatment from Paramount. The film is in widescreen with Dolby-enhanced mono, optional French dubbing, and optional English subtitles; there are no extras, not even the theatrical trailer. 'Lipstick' is grainy as hell with occasional artifacts, but the print quality is just enough to sense a gloss from its original showing. The disco soundtrack of Michel Polnareff comes across smoothly and the overall audio quality is decent. 'Lipstick' is mostly an afterthought in the broad picture of cinema, but has kept much of its dramatic value intact.

** out of 4

Roving Reviewer - www.geocities.com/paul_johnr

By late 1987, Cannon Films was financially stagnating and cutting into its movie budgets. Having turned out infamous failures like the Tobe Hooper epic 'Lifeforce' and the Roman Polanski-directed 'Pirates,' Hollywood's leading independent filmmaker was nearing bankruptcy. Cannon was in great need of box office profits, which made company heads Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus turn to its reliable Death Wish franchise. The Death Wish series, beginning with Dino De Laurentiis's 1974 original, had already generated two sequels that led the American box office in their opening week. Most recent was 'Death Wish 3,' a farcical romp that has Charles Bronson running through the streets of East New York with a machine gun and chasing after thugs who wear reverse Mohawks. While lambasted by critics, 'Death Wish 3' topped U.S. movie receipts during its first week in 1985.

Although 'Death Wish 4: The Crackdown' is a better-assembled film than its predecessor, it shows clear signs of a movie company that was breaking apart at the seams. It went through a troubled production in which Gail Morgan Hickman's script was damaged by continuous rewrites and Bronson favorite J. Lee Thompson had to direct on a shoestring budget. Despite an interesting concept, 'The Crackdown' suffers from cheap production values and the slapdash impression it leaves on viewers. It also does not have the flair of three previous Michael Winner-directed entries, which combine a grimy atmosphere with moments of droll humor to offset the action.

'Death Wish 4' is very much a product of the Reagan anti-drug era with Paul Kersey (Bronson) setting off a feud between rival Los Angeles drug traders. Kersey has returned to L.A. and hooked up with a new girlfriend, newspaper columnist Karen Sheldon (Emmy Award-winner Kay Lenz), who looks after her teenaged daughter Erica (Dana Barron). One evening, Erica is taken by her boyfriend to a local amusement center, where she is given contaminated drugs by a pusher. She dies in an emergency room, after which Kersey finds and shoots the pusher dead in good ol' vigilante style.

Kersey is then contacted by 'Nathan White' (John P. Ryan), a millionaire who claims to have lost his daughter through cocaine addiction. Toting information on the two leading drug families in Los Angeles, White offers Kersey anything he needs to kill off the Zachariases and Romeros, who make a fortune off teenagers' drug habits. 'Death Wish 4' models itself after 'Yojimbo' and Leone's 'Fistful of Dollars' by having Kersey provoke an all-out gang war. The script also offers a twist by revealing 'Nathan White' as another drug boss who is looking to seize control of the entire crack-cocaine trade in L.A.

Compared to the atrocious scriptwriting and technical work of 'Death Wish 3,' 'The Crackdown' is a much better film. J. Lee Thompson's direction is generally solid, with better performances from a more accomplished cast. Unfortunately, Thompson's work stands out like a sore thumb and doesn't quite fit into the series. Michael Winner made numerous poor decisions in the first three episodes, but he created a mold for the series that was unquestionably his. It was also impossible to build on 'Death Wish 3,' a nutty send-up of the entire vigilante genre.

Gail Morgan Hickman's patchwork script begins to unravel in the second half, when a promising story turns into another brainless actioner. DW4's opening half-hour revolves around Karen Sheldon, who begins investigating the drug trade after Erica's death. For one reason or another, the strong work of actress Kay Lenz comes to a screeching halt and we don't see her again until the finale, when she's conveniently taken hostage and turned into a bloody mess. Since 'The Crackdown' was made for fans of Bronson, it is the veteran actor that we mostly see, but DW4 only rehashes past roles where he's a gunslinger in a huge shooting gallery.

Cost-cutting measures due to Cannon's financial problems are also seen across the backdrop. Paul McCallum, Valentine McCallum, and John Bisharat are named as composers, but 'Death Wish 4' is littered with stock cues; there are strains of Robert Ragland's music from the 1983 thriller '10 to Midnight' and recycled themes from 'Assassination,' another 1987 Cannon-Bronson flick. This gives the movie a cheap, direct-to-video feel. DW4's photography by Gideon Porath ('Kinjite: Forbidden Subjects') is glossy and well-done, but many of the action sets are ruined by Peter Lee Thompson's careless editing. There are also occasional low-budget treats such as a window shattering before an actor reaches it and a newspaper article that repeats the same words several times.

While the original 'Death Wish' is in another league and socially important, 'Death Wish 4' ranks as one of the lesser sequels. Bronson still plays his character effectively, but The Crackdown's sloppy writing and overall cheapness ruin what could have been a good follow-up. 'The Crackdown' sports an experienced director and sturdy cast, but it will only interest Bronson fans and rank as one of Cannon's last, desperate acts. Then again, 'Death Wish 3' was meant as an endpoint and the series needn't have gone any farther.

'Death Wish 4' is retailed on disc by MGM Home Entertainment and gives only the bare essentials; it presents the movie in full frame with mono audio and subtitles in English, French, and Spanish. The theatrical trailer is offered as a lone extra. 'Death Wish 4' is in good visual shape with strong color, while the sound is unusually flat for 1987 (where's the stereo?). Fans have yearned for widescreen versions of parts 3, 4, and 5, but if 3 isn't getting better treatment, 4 and 5 sure as heck aren't.

* ½ out of 4

Roving Reviewer - www.geocities.com/paul_johnr

For people who watched 'The Pink Panther' series during childhood, the realities of Peter Sellers' life may bring a great deal of surprise. In truth, the numerous characters that Sellers played in his lifetime were slats of a façade that covered huge, gaping holes in his identity. This is a starting point for the HBO/BBC co-production directed by Stephen Hopkins, which loosely tracks the roller-coaster life that Sellers experienced until his death in 1980.

'The Life and Death of Peter Sellers' was designed by screenwriters Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely, who focus on a recent biography by Roger Lewis. Running exactly two hours long, it is a cartoonish, often surreal rendering of Sellers' climb from a BBC radio voice to the man who enthralled audiences in 'I'm All Right, Jack,' 'The Pink Panther,' 'Dr. Strangelove,' and 'Being There.' Sellers is brilliantly portrayed by Geoffrey Rush ('Shine'), who received a Golden Globe in 2005 for not only embodying the actor, but the characters that Sellers portrayed and the people who held key roles in his life.

'Life and Death' gives wide scope to his relationship with mother Peg, superbly played by Miriam Margolyes. Peg spent her working life as an actress in cheap stage productions and was determined to raise her son for a better career. Peter was primed to become an immortal, a man whom everyone would know and love; the one hitch, however, is that Peg believed in the infallibility of great minds - she coddled Peter throughout his childhood and raised him to believe that only his art mattered and nothing else. We see in his behavior that Sellers' emotional depth wasn't all there, sporting childish fantasies of actresses (one with Sophia Loren is particularly famous) and terrifying his wives and children when the mood suited him.

Geoffrey Rush shows particular excellence when he takes on the appearance of Sellers' father Bill (played by Peter Vaughan), his wife Anne (Emily Watson), director Stanley Kubrick (Stanley Tucci), and 'Panther' director Blake Edwards (John Lithgow). These monologues comment on Sellers' relationships and the often pulverizing effect on those he knew. As Kubrick, Rush remarks that he was a 'vessel' that temporarily stored his characters, because there was simply no core or inside to Sellers' presence; he was simply a vehicle for the many impressive figures that he portrayed.

Sellers' personal life came to a head in his relationship with Britt Ekland, played competently by Charlize Theron. By this point, Sellers felt that he can do nothing wrong against anyone, using his fame to justify the havoc he created. Unhappy with Ekland's pregnancy, he 'dropped her off' at a local hospital to deliver their child, was openly hostile towards her on film sets, and was physically abusive at home. Sellers was also looking for excuses to unload his responsibility, often snuggling up with tarot readers and psychics like the well-known Maurice Woodruff (played by Stephen Fry) for otherworldly guidance.

However, 'Life and Death' does not have total antipathy for Sellers, as shown in its final half-hour. This 'coda' focuses on Sellers' most personal effort, the making of 'Being There,' in which he earned an Oscar nomination as Chance the Gardener. Years passed before Sellers could get the needed funds for this project and it showed his dedication as an artist when the shoe truly fit. The closing scenes pay homage to his genius and while not asking viewers to forgive his awful behavior, it does suggest that brilliant minds seem to exist outside of time and space, leaving them in a bizarre position.

Fans who knew Sellers during his lifetime will be unhappy with the poetic license that was taken in this film. But it is helpful to keep in mind that the film is more so a collage of his experiences than a verbatim biopic. The director and screenwriters have made clear that the film was treated as if Peter Sellers himself were making it, so naturally there would be facts distorted by such a volatile, self-centered man. Sellers' life was a jumble of images and concepts rather than a concrete thing, which the film expresses to a large degree.

'The Life and Death of Peter Sellers' is a bit too clever for its own good, at times examining the Sellers psyche too much. But it is highly professional, with excellent acting and solid direction; fans of Peter Sellers will probably itch to see it and no doubt cringe at what they're seeing. The Peter Sellers of this film is a man who is neither fully likable nor fully repugnant; he is one of those great minds who toe a balance beam with chaos all around them. For the acting achievement of Geoffrey Rush alone, 'Life and Death' is worth checking out.

Sellers' bio will probably get an occasional rerun on HBO and is still available on DVD. The disc has a cheerful appearance with calico design and goofy music. The film itself is given widescreen presentation in a 16:9 aspect ratio with optional Dolby 2.0 or 5.1 audio; subtitles are also provided in English, French, and Spanish. As special features are commentary tracks with Rush-Hopkins and the Christopher Markus-Stephen McFeely writing team. Also included are scenes that did not make the final cut (including Sellers' marriage to Lynne Frederick) and a short program on the film's creation. While expensive ($25), the disc is more than worth it.

*** out of 4

Roving Reviewer - www.geocities.com/paul_johnr

Let's get something out of the way right now: 'The Stud' is garbage and doesn't really pretend to be anything more. It is one of the last in an assembly line of mainstream skin flicks that graced Britain and America during the 1970s, finding its place beside 'Come Play with Me,' the Timothy Lea 'Confessions' series, and the many installments of 'Carry On.' In 1978 and '79, bestselling novelist Jackie Collins took advantage of her success to film two adaptations, 'The Stud' and its sequel 'The Bitch.' Older sister Joan Collins, who dealt closely with Jackie at the time, agreed to play her starring role with backing from producer-husband Ronald Kass and Jackie's late husband Oscar Lerman. The rest, we can say, is history; resulting were two incredibly bad films, but also the prototype for Joan Collins's role of Alexis Carrington on the TV series 'Dynasty.'

Released in a burnt-out period of drugs and debauchery, 'The Stud' was very much of its time and an ideal vehicle for adult cinemas. But unlike its successor 'The Bitch,' this earlier film has a semblance of plot, more dimensional characters, and technical work that is not completely awful. The novel and movie use a theme of obvious appeal to working-class men by portraying a young upstart who is eking his way into the social classes that reign above him. This cardboard plot at least makes 'The Stud' watchable, with loads of nudity and cheap, gratuitous moments to wake you from slumber.

While Collins is first-billed as nightclub owner Fontaine Khaled, it is really Oliver Tobias who holds the larger role, playing waiter-turned-club manager Tony Blake. Blake, who doubles as a gigolo and lover of Fontaine, portrays the working-class man who is looking to break through England's social rigidity. He hobnobs and often sleeps with upper-class clientele, prostituting his body and his dignity in order to get places. Tony is pretty much a toy of Fontaine and her friend Vanessa (Sue Lloyd), two married women who escape boredom through orgies and videotapes of their conquests. Fontaine's current husband Benjamin (Walter Gotell) brings onto the scene Alexandra (Emma Jacobs), his daughter from a previous marriage, and Tony begins to have second thoughts about his way of life.

'The Stud' indeed has the look and feel of a cheap romance novel, but it actually had some things going for it when Jackie Collins began to write its screenplay. While Tony Blake is a disgusting man and can be labeled a pervert for bedding Fontaine's just-legal stepdaughter, there is a small amount of depth in his character and we get to know something about him personally. In an odd way, he represents the working-class Briton (or American for that matter) who wants desperately to live a comfortable life, but is inevitably crushed under the weight of those with larger bank accounts and better heredity. In the end, Blake loses everything, with an ease that working-class men can relate too.

However, Collins (with co-writers Dave Humphries and Christopher Stagg) knew the market she was aiming for and kept things mostly on an airheaded level. There is very little plot and dialogue for the actors to work with, resulting in all-around embarrassment. Tobias and Joan Collins fare decently, as does Emma Jacobs in the stepdaughter's role, but everyone is visibly straining to put life into their material. 'The Stud' is so gutted over its 96-minute running time that director Quentin Masters had to cushion the story with nightclub dancing, even though it offers nothing significant. Masters, who may have been under severe budget constraints, directed this film in ways that are laughable. Scenes supposedly taking place at night are botched by windows leaking daylight and it takes half the film to notice a heart-shaped antenna on Blake's roadster, which would have been valuable in showing Blake for the gaudy, tasteless character he is. The sex scene with Tobias and Jacobs (she's about 19, don't forget) is also cheap and exploitative.

'The Stud' is clearly a low-budget film, with tight locations, bad lighting, and poor sound. The disco soundtrack, hyped to the stratosphere when this film was released, comes out blasting while much of the fluffy conversation is drowned out. The cinematography was actually supplied by Peter Hannan, who won an Academy Award in 2006 for co-developing the 'Hot-Head' remote camera. Not surprisingly, The Stud's visuals are superior to that of 'The Bitch' and generally okay, using the darkened gloss that seems common in British film-making. The costuming is ordinary, but a lasing document on 1970s clothing sense - or lack thereof.

Unlike other British skin flicks that played in cinemas and vanished, 'The Stud' and 'The Bitch' are still topics of discussion; few, if any, actors have tumbled into the depths of soft porn and risen back to stardom like Joan Collins has. Where else, after all, can we see a popular actress like Joan stripping down naked, smoking marijuana, and flinging herself into the thick of a pool orgy? When do we ever hear a popular actress like Joan asking her boyfriend if he's getting an erection? In interviews, Collins admits that 'The Stud' led to her famous Dynasty role, but this is still one film she'd like humanity to forget.

Unfortunately for her, 'The Stud' has made it to DVD, released in the U.S. by Trinity Home Entertainment. As expected for a movie of this caliber, it is presented in fullscreen with decent picture and 2.0 Dolby audio that does nothing to resolve the imbalance between music and spoken words. As if people are buying this for the great narratives! The fact is, Joan is nude and nasty - and people have money to spend.

* out of 4

Roving Reviewer - www.geocities.com/paul_johnr

Every good writer turns out an occasional flop, which is exactly the kind of film Wendell Mayes conceived as 'Love and Bullets.' By 1979, Mayes was at the end of a prolific career in which he wrote screenplays for three Otto Preminger films (including 'Anatomy of a Murder'), Ronald Neame's blockbuster 'The Poseidon Adventure,' and the adaptation of 'Death Wish.' His next-to-last film credit, however, was this dull, meandering chase story from Lew Grade's ITC Entertainment firm that he co-wrote with John Melson, a scribe only noted for 1965's 'Battle of the Bulge.'

'Love and Bullets' was one in a series of disappointing roles for Charles Bronson as the 1970s closed. Bronson was a favorite actor of Sir Lew Grade, but their collaboration proved mostly a failure. While 'Love and Bullets' and 'Borderline' made chump change at the box office, Bronson dropped out of the entertaining 'Firepower' and paired up with director J. Lee Thompson for the sleazy political thriller 'The Evil That Men Do.' 'Love and Bullets' is an ordinary crime film, casting Bronson as a police lieutenant, his wife Jill Ireland as a damsel in distress, and Rod Steiger as a European-based Mafioso. While it is impossible to figure out how much of Mayes's work actually reached the film, 'Love and Bullets' feels like an incomplete project, with most of its 103-minute run time following Bronson and Ireland across the Swiss Alps. Very little happens to keep a viewer interested and the movie feels much longer than it actually is.

Bronson plays Charlie Congers, an Arizona police lieutenant who is asked by the FBI to track down Jackie Pruit (Ireland), a Southern call girl. Pruit is the devoted lover of mob boss Joe Bomposa (Steiger), who rules from his Swiss villa. The feds believe that Pruit knows everything about Bomposa's operations in the U.S. and can be forced to testify against him if returned to the country. Congers, having seen a police officer murdered by Bomposa's drug ring, agrees to the job and gets sucked into a cat-and-mouse game with Bomposa and Vittorio Farroni (Henry Silva), an assassin hired to kill Pruit before she tattles. The film is a standard chase drama; Bronson engages in hand-to-hand combat, throws an axe, and fashions a dart gun from the rod of a floor lamp.

Considering the amount of talent that Wendell Mayes had, this plot is incredibly underdeveloped; for Bronson addicts, it can be a trying experience. There are occasional action scenes and your odd explosion, but we are mostly treated to Bronson and Ireland trudging across snowcaps and riding on trains, dragged out even further by Stuart Rosenberg's horrendous pacing and constant dissolves from one scene to the next. Rosenberg, who directed 'Cool Hand Luke' and replaced John Huston on this film, either had no idea of how to develop the material or completely misfired in trying to give it life. The film has underlying humor that works at times, but is mostly centered on Jill Ireland's character, which is one of the most annoying I've ever seen.

Like Love and Bullets' scriptwriting, its actors are deep in talent but underutilized. Charles Bronson gives the only decent performance, simply because he's the lead actor and has more to work with. Ireland portrays a blonde, Southern bubblehead who dons wigs and passes her time by making dolls; her character is grating and as a fan of Ireland, I resent the fact that she is made so unlikable in this film. Ireland also falls conveniently in love with Bronson during the movie's second half and it doesn't look very convincing. Rod Steiger bombs as a stuttering Mafioso, rarely talking below a yell and undergoing his grammar school audition for 'The Untouchables.' Henry Silva and Paul Koslo play decent smaller roles but never supply enough menace for a viewer to care about them. The only element that truly stands out is breathtaking photography by Fred Koenekamp and Anthony Richmond, which captures the Swiss Alps' enveloping qualities. Lalo Schifrin, known for his sleek music throughout the 1970s, disposes of 'wakka-chicka' and uses a more conventional style that is pleasing, but at times mushy.

While Bronson is very likable, 'Love and Bullets' feels like a project that was abandoned before ending up in ITC's hands as a last resort. Compared to other gems like 'Death Wish,' 'The Mechanic,' 'Hard Times,' and 'Breakout,' 'Love and Bullets' easily ranks as one of Bronson's more forgettable credits. Bronson, unfortunately, would step down from these glossier projects to begin his run at the Cannon Group, starring in workmanlike films like 'Death Wish II,' '10 to Midnight,' and 'Murphy's Law.' Jill Ireland maintained her presence in Bronson's films until dying of cancer in 1990. Stuart Rosenberg later directed the Robert Redford vehicle 'Brubaker' in 1980 and 'My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys' in 1991.

At the moment, 'Love and Bullets' is only available in VHS copy on the Internet and, considering its dubious place on Bronson's résumé, may take a while to reach DVD. CBS/FOX Video retailed a VHS tape with good color and mediocre sound in 1989. The 'big box' presentation ruins all of the scenery that was intended for theaters, but these same images can be seen in a travel guide or by hopping on a plane to Europe. Unless you're a Bronson die-hard or admire his relationship with Jill Ireland, 'Love and Bullets' is a negligible film that only deserves a rare showing on late-night TV.

* ½ out of 4

Roving Reviewer - www.geocities.com/paul_johnr

Compared to other projects like 'The Great Santini' and 'The Mechanic,' this 1976 drama was a bold endeavor for writer-director Lewis John Carlino. 'The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea' is Carlino's adaptation of a novella set in post-World War II Japan by Yukio Mishima, a prolific 20th century author who tried to revive the Bushido code of samurai honor and committed ritual suicide in 1970. Mishima was a grand literary force, considered several times for the Nobel Prize and was lauded as the 'Japanese Hemingway' by Life Magazine. Indeed, it says a great deal about his writings that Carlino was able to transport the novella's ideas to a modern English setting.

'Sailor' focuses on Anne Osborne, a lonely widow and antiques dealer played by Sarah Miles. The middle-aged woman lives with her sea-loving, teenaged son Jonathan (Jonathan Kahn) in an English coastal town. Well into the rebellious phase of life, Jonathan finds himself without an adult male influence and backs a schoolmate known only as Chief (Earl Rhodes), who runs a secret club with four other boys as his underlings. This club is not the usual fun-and-games of children, however; Chief is the precocious son of a town surgeon and looks to teach the four members his nihilistic points of view (morality, for instance, is just rules that adults invented to control the world). So dedicated is the boy to his values that he even autopsies the family cat to prove an idea about existence.

Providing Jonathan with another outlet is Jim Cameron (Kris Kristofferson), an American sailor who arrives into port and has a change meeting with Anne. The two fall in love almost immediately and Jonathan discovers a man who fits Chief's description of 'a heart of steel' - a man who travels the Earth and overcomes great odds. However, Jonathan feels betrayal as the love affair between Anne and Jim thickens; his hero decides to stay in England and remain tied to the soil. It's only Jonathan and his friends who can restore Jim's 'grace' with the sea from which he came, leading to one of the most outrageous conclusions in film history.

As a person who has seen numerous films and read quite a few novels, 'The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea' was a very strange experience. The film doesn't fit any one particular genre, nor does it really generate one clear emotion. The love story between Anne and Jim functions as an obvious work of erotica, while the dark portrayal of adolescence reminds me of writers like Aldous Huxley and Patrick McCabe. The story's meaning is intentionally unclear, although it seems to imply that each person is given a specific destiny and that the feelings of children, by necessity, are of equal value to those of adults. There is also a certain sexual philosophy judging passion as the destroyer of good things, in this case the strong bond between Jonathan and his mother.

One of Sailor's technical strongpoints is its broad, languid pacing that has a feel similar to waves of the sea. Cinematographer Douglas Slocombe offers breathtaking images of ocean, sunrise, and house interiors that compare with still-life paintings. Adding to the rich visuals is a lean, chilly score by Johnny Mandel (with themes by Kristofferson) that captures the film's underlying ideas. The entire cast is superb, especially the children headed by Jonathan Kahn (who had a brief screen career). Sarah Miles conveys a wide range of emotion and has a physical elegance that is ideal for her role. Kristofferson was an excellent choice for the Jim Cameron figure, a rugged, brooding individual whose tales of sea life feel authentic. Of vital importance is the chemistry between Miles and Kristofferson, which must be strong for the film to work. Unlike inferior films that produce a cardboard love affair, Anne and Jim's rapport is solid and nothing less than convincing.

Anyone who is put off by graphic sexuality or cruelty to animals will best avoid this film. Miles and Kristofferson are involved in two explicit sex scenes, with Kahn watching through a peephole to sate his teenaged curiosity. Miles is also viewed masturbating at her dressing table, but all of this material was filmed with great sensitivity. The cat 'experiment' is highly unpleasant, although not exceptionally graphic, and Chief blasts apart an overhead seagull by tossing a firework stuffed inside pieces of bread. The end credits mention that no real animals were harmed in the film, a rare disclaimer in the 1970s.

'Sailor' deserves good DVD treatment for its photography alone, if not for its fine acting. Image Entertainment has come through with a 2003 disc that presents the film with respect, undoing years of mistreatment by TV broadcasts and full-frame VHS tapes. The film is presented in widescreen with immaculate visuals and Dolby enhancement of the original mono track. Unfortunately, there are no extras, with chapter stops offered as the lone feature. Another minus is its auto-play of the film when loaded into a DVD machine, which is inconvenient if you need a few moments to settle in. But for admirers of this film, IE's new disc restores the vibrant imagery seen in cinemas thirty years ago. Moving, shocking, and at times repugnant, 'Sailor' is one of the most bizarre film experiences you will ever have.

*** out of 4

Roving Reviewer - www.geocities.com/paul_johnr