Stanley Kubrick's science-fiction masterpiece needs no introduction from me. Kubrick is a true celluloid hero of mine, and his epic grandiose tale of the origins of mankind remains a landmark in cinematic history. Here is a selection of lobby cards released to promote the film in cinemas.
Sunday, 27 November 2011
Saturday, 26 November 2011
La casa sperduta nel parco
Although Italian director Ruggero Deodato has directed over twenty films in a career spanning four decades, his reputation almost entirely rests on two films that emerged in 1980. Both Cannibal Holocaust and House on the Edge of the Park introduced audiences to a brand of cinematic sadism the like of which was (and still is) exceedingly rare. There had been hints of course in Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man (1976) and more specifically Jungle Holocaust aka Last Cannibal World (1977), but little could prepare audiences for the diabolical double that heralded in the 1980’s. Some filmmakers pride themselves on stylistic audacity, or perhaps a visionary and artistic attitude to persistent thematic preoccupations, or maybe even the articulation of social or political allegories. In the most famous films by the dim witted Deodato he seems more concerned with either repulsing his audience, or boring them to death. Cannibal Holocaust provides the former, House on the Edge of the Park the latter. Cannibal Holocaust is at least an important film, one that generated heated debate over questions of realism, censorship, and exploitation. A deceptively well made and well written picture that critiqued film itself as a means of representation. House on the Edge of the Park however is a mindless and emotionally hollow exercise in cinematic cruelty. The question of how Deodato could descend from the nightmarish brilliance of Cannibal Holocaust to the tedium and stupidity of House on the Edge of the Park in such a short space of time remains a mystery.
Monday, 21 November 2011
The success of John Boorman’s Deliverance (1972), which dramatised the clash between the white collar urbanity of middle class America and a disenfranchised backwoods rural community created ripples of influence that extended far and wide. Although ostensibly an action orientated adventure movie, there was enough paranoia and nightmarish hysteria in the film to reignite the inspiration of low budget filmmakers working within the horror genre. The rural slasher film subsequently became a sub-genre within a sub-genre, and much of its success was derived from the necessity for location shooting. Another happy by product of the poverty row production values enforced upon such films as The Last House on the Left (1972), The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) and Just Before Dawn (1980) was the need to shoot with handheld cameras. This gave these rural horror pictures a sense of verisimilitude that the more slickly produced effects driven slasher pictures lacked. They also tap into a more primal impulse; the survival of the fittest in the face of both nature and an unseen assailant. For me these backwoods chillers represent the most intriguing face of the slasher film, and there are very few that impress as much as Rituals.
Wednesday, 16 November 2011
H. G. Wells' Food of the Gods
Writer/director/producer/visual effects designer Bert I Gordon is living proof that one can be a jack of all trades and master of none. Despite Gordon’s obvious shortcomings there is a certain infectious enthusiasm to many of his films - especially his science-fiction efforts of the 1950’s. How can one not enjoy the absurd prospect of giant grasshoppers in the ludicrous Beginning of the End (1957), the odd poignancy of The Amazing Colossal Man (1957) and the expectation of poorly realised mutant spiders in Earth vs. the Spider (1958)? As with many science-fiction films of the 1950’s the best thing about Gordon’s films were the titles. Nevertheless he managed to deliver distraction and entertainment, that is until Village of the Giants (1965) when his brand of gigantism (he also did a little people film - the awful Attack of the Puppet People ) reached an apex of stupidity and boredom. Against the run of technology Gordon persisted with his visual effects, and more importantly persisted with the themes inherent in the subject of mutation. His science-fiction/horror efforts forming an interesting self-contained universe that might respond well to the auteur theory. In the late 1970’s he returned to his favoured landscape with The Food of the Gods (1976) and Empire of the Ants (1977), two films which took advantage of the ‘Revolt of Nature’ impulse that had been re-popularised in the wake of Jaws (1975).
Monday, 14 November 2011
One of the very first soundtracks I purchased was Giorgio Moroder’s pulsating score for Alan Parker’s controversial and brutal prison drama Midnight Express. Midnight Express was the Italian’s first soundtrack, and at the time he was heavily embroiled in the late 70’s disco scene. It was a musical trend particularly receptive to Moroder’s brand of repetitive synth based pop. In addition to being a capable musician, Moroder was also an accomplished song writer and producer. His most notable successes his collaborations with Donna Summer and his first electro album From Here To Eternity, which saw the light of day in 1977. Moroder then might not have seemed the most logical choice to score a film involving a harrowing and nightmarish descent into the sadism and brutality of a Turkish prison. The film itself has had to answer to charges of racism over the years. Its representations of the Turkish authorities is unremittingly negative, and at times borders on the farce of caricature. But Moroder’s musical contribution stands in isolation to those arguments. The most famous piece is the throbbing electronica of The Chase, used wonderfully in the film when Billy flees from the authorities through the markets of Istanbul. The plodding repetition of the main beat creating a tension, paranoia and remorselessness that indicates that Billy is unable to escape his tortured destiny. When reduced to a radio friendly edit The Chase became a major hit single in almost every territory it was released in.
Friday, 11 November 2011
Original Transmission Date: 21/02/1973
History tends to be written by the winners, and as a result the landscape of 1970’s horror strains under a stifling orthodoxy. A prevailing critical consensus (partly attributable to academia as well as fan worship) that propels names like Argento, Craven, Romero, Hooper, Cronenberg and Carpenter into the forefront at the expense of others doing equally important work in the genre. One such man whose contribution to the typography of the genre in the 1970’s remains criminally underrated is Dan Curtis. The problem is that Curtis spent the majority of his career working (either as a writer, producer, or director) in the restricted confines of television. If you want a simple index of how culturally insignificant American television was considered in comparison to American cinema in the 1970’s look no further than Dan Curtis. Curtis is now most recognised for his cult television series Dark Shadows (1966-1971) and his three TV movies The Night Stalker (1972), The Night Strangler (1973) and Trilogy of Terror (1975). His only directorial credit on the big screen was the indifferent Burnt Offerings (1976) which was more of a showcase for the histrionics of Oliver Reed and Karen Black than it was for Curtis’ direction. However when one delves deeper into the filmography of Mr. Curtis one is surprised by the number of hugely entertaining and generically progressive TV movies he worked on. One such example is the very enjoyable The Norliss Tapes.
Wednesday, 9 November 2011
For your viewing pleasure - a selection of lobby cards for the under-appreciated Hammer horror production Kiss of the Vampire (1963)
Tuesday, 8 November 2011
Eraserhead (1977) - US poster
Eraserhead #2 - UK Quad poster
Eraserhead #3 - Japanese poster
The Elephant Man (1980) #1 - Hungarian poster
Monday, 7 November 2011
Original Transmission Date: 24/11/1970
The relative emptiness of The Celluloid Highway’s Cult TV Archive has bothered me for some time, so I’ve decided to make a conscious effort to explore in more detail, the often fertile soil of the small screen. In the United States the made-for-television horror movie became something of a cult institution, and flourished from 1968 to 1989. I personally consider this to be the time period of greatest interest. This is a subjective choice on my part, so I hope nobody gets there knickers in a twist if they disagree. One of the benefits of being from the UK is that I never got to see many of these TV movies when I was growing up, and therefore I do not approach them now wearing the rose tinted spectacles of nostalgia. Just check out how many reviews for these TV movies give them undue credit simply because they generate a childhood nostalgia! Of course there were a handful of elite TV horror movies that broke the shackles and enjoyed wider distribution - Duel (1971), The Night Stalker (1972), Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark (1973), Killdozer (1974), and Dark Night of the Scarecrow (1981) just to name a few. But for every Dark Night of the Scarecrow there is a Crowhaven Farm. The title might have a certain rustic pastoral charm, but the reality is that this particular effort from November 1970 is a dreary exercise in tele-visual tedium.
Sunday, 6 November 2011
Country: UNITED KINGDOM
Original Transmission Date: 25/12/1972
The 1970’s represented a high watermark of creativity in the small screen landscape of British television. Fans of science-fiction thrilled to the ongoing adventures of Doctor Who (1963 - present), Doomwatch (1970-72), The Tomorrow People (1973-79), and Blake’s 7 (1978-81). Meanwhile fans of the supernatural were catered for by the BBC’s annual Ghost Story for Christmas (1971-78) and such adult anthology programmes as Dead of Night (1972), Beasts (1976), and The Mind Beyond (1976). Many of the creepiest and most disturbing of genre programmes were reserved for children, with serials such as Escape into Night (1972), Shadows (1975-78) and Children of the Stones (1977) providing sleepless nights for youthful imaginations. One man who had a consistent gift for unsettling material was the writer Nigel Kneale. In the 1950’s enraptured audiences excitedly followed the three serials he wrote featuring the gifted scientist Professor Bernard Quatermass. In the 1960’s Kneale spent a lot of time writing film screenplays, but still found time to return to the small screen with the prescient science-fiction allegory The Year of the Sex Olympics (1968). The 1970’s saw Kneale working exclusively in television, and in 1972 he wrote his penultimate script for the BBC…the chilling feature length festive fright The Stone Tape.
Thursday, 3 November 2011
Dario Argento's stunningly composed giallo Deep Red was released in Spain under the title Rojo oscuro. Here are a selection of lobby cards that were used to promote the film in Spanish cinemas.