Celluloid Snaps - Wedlock (1991)

Dir: LEWIS TEAGUE
Country: USA

Poster Gallery - Vertigo (1958)

US POSTER - This artwork or variants of it was also utilised in Italian, Portugese, Argentinian, Spanish, French, and West German promotional campaigns

US POSTER #2

US POSTER #3

US POSTER #4

Celluloid Sounds - Street Law (1974)

The 1974 ‘Euro-crime’ film Street Law is one of my personal favourites of the cycle. I took a risk on it when I imported Blue Underground’s DVD release of the film back in 2006. But I’ve always found that particular distributor to be very reliable in terms of quality and interest. The film was my entry point into the violent, exciting, reactionary, and uncompromising world of the Italian ‘Euro-crime’ cycle and for this I owe the film a debt of gratitude. The director of the film was Enzo G. Castellari who was no stranger to the various cycles that constituted popular cinema in Italy in the 1960’s and 1970’s. Castellari’s early westerns were rather drab and predictable affairs, singularly unmemorable, and offered little promise of the films to come. The first hint of Castellari’s capabilities came in the war film Eagles over London (1969). He followed this with the dour and lacklustre giallo Cold Eyes of Fear (1971), which unsurprisingly remained his only entry in this cycle.  For the next few years Castellari concentrated on crime pictures, creating an impressive and consistent body of work which included High Crime (1973), The Big Racket (1976), The Heroin Busters (1977), and Day of the Cobra (1980).

Mark the Narc (1975)

Dir: STELVIO MASSI

Country: ITALY

AKA:

Mark il poliziotto

Blood, Sweat and Fear

Mark of the Cop

The big three directors who inhabit the murky, tough, and violent world of the Italian ‘Euro-crime’ cycle are Fernando Di Leo, Umberto Lenzi, and Stelvio Massi. It seems that history has been the kindest to Di Leo, who has selected titles available in high definition and is generally regarded as an important filmmaker in the landscape of popular Italian cinema. Fairing slightly worse is Umberto Lenzi, and this is almost entirely due to his risible cannibal escapades rather than his solid, if unexceptional, entries in the ‘Euro-crime’ and ‘Giallo’ cycles. Due to the vagaries of distribution the filmography of Massi is the least explored of the three, and as a result Massi is not discussed anywhere near as prolifically as the other two men. Although all three filmmakers owe debts of gratitude to the Hollywood films that inspired them, perhaps Massi most of all showed his influences a little too freely. This can be seen most keenly in his 1975 thriller Mark the Narc which is one of the most rigorous pastiches of the first two films to feature Clint Eastwood as San Francisco detective Harry Callaghan. 

Wake in Fright (1971)

Dir: TED KOTCHEFF

Country: AUSTRALIA/USA

AKA:

Outback

It is becoming all too rare nowadays to see a film that leaves a genuinely indelible impression. A combination of my own academic education (which pretty much destroyed the magic of the movies) and a gradual desensitisation towards challenging and provocative material means that most films cross my line of sight with barely a blip on my internal Richter scale. But occasionally one can still find that precious diamond buried beneath the tonnes of coal. It doesn’t surprise me in the least that when such a discovery is made the film is quite often a product of the 1970’s. One such recent discovery was an Australian film called Wake in Fright, a nightmarish narrative that left me bewildered and devastated in equal measure. That we can now view Wake in Fright in a pristine high definition transfer is a tremendous privilege. For decades the only print of the film in existence was considered totally insufficient for either VHS or DVD release. But thanks to the dogged efforts of the films editor Anthony Buckley, the negatives were located, and one of the most important restoration processes in modern film history was able to take place. 

Lobby Card Collection - City Heat (1984)

Colt 38 Special Squad (1976)

Dir: MASSIMO DALLAMANO
Country: ITALY

AKA:
Quelli della calibro 38

Thus far on every occasion that a film directed by Massimo Dallamano has crossed my line of sight and made it to the screen, I’ve generally been impressed by the results. I say generally because his 1969 take on Venus in Furs left me cold, unimpressed, and most damagingly of all; bored! But since that fateful afternoon where I lost ninety minutes of my life to that asinine garbage, the films of his I have screened have had me reaching for the superlatives. The giallo double of What Have They Done to Solange? (1971) and What Have They Done to Your Daughters? (1974) were remarkably consistent examinations of not only corrupted innocence, but also how a mask of innocence and youth can conceal all manner of perversions. The former totally outgrew the Edgar Wallace pot-boiler which it took tacit inspiration from, and the latter injected some of the high octane action strategies of the Polizio/Euro-crime cycle into its formulaic gialli narrative. It is this fusion of elements which points forward to Dallamano’s inevitable full blown entry into the Polizio/Euro-crime cycle with the fast paced thriller Colt 38 Special Squad. He seems far more confident amongst the chase sequences, shootouts, fistfights, and vengeful violence of this cycle than the muted atmospherics of the passable The Night Child (1975), the rather dry and forgettable horror flick that preceded it. One of the great tragedies of popular Italian cinema was that Colt 38 Special Squad would be Dallamano’s last picture; certainly on the evidence displayed here Dallamano could have made a number of vital contributions to the cycle, and would no doubt have further enriched a variety of generic soil.

Lobby Card Collection - Highlander (1986)

Illustrious Corpses (1976)

Dir: FRANCESCO ROSI
Country: ITALY/FRANCE

AKA:
Cadaveri Eccelenti
The Context

Generally speaking the poliziotesschi/Euro-crime cycle can be divided into four distinct thematic and narrative strands. The first explores the power struggles, relationships, and group dynamics of organised crime mobs, and are best represented by the early formative crime flicks of Fernando Di Leo; most notably Milano Calibro 9 (1972), and The Boss (1973). The second explores the manner in which innocent members of society, frustrated by the inactivity of the police, take the law into their own hands, and seek retribution through violent means; a good example is Street Law (1974), which took as its inspiration Michael Winner’s defining statement on vigilantism Death Wish (1974). The third and most pervasive strand was inspired by the rule breaking rogue cop seen in Dirty Harry (1971), and these films are marked by themes of police brutality, sticky networks of bureaucratic red tape, and detectives frequently breaking the law in order to maintain their own sense of moral equilibrium; almost any Italian crime film of the 1970’s featuring the talents of Maurizio Merli fits this description. These three narrative types are united by high octane energy, stylised shoot outs and fistfights, dangerous chase sequences, and pulse pounding soundtracks.

The Red Circle (1960)

Dir: JURGEN ROLAND
Country: WEST GERMANY/DENMARK

AKA:
Der Rote Kreis
The Crimson Circle

The Red Circle was the second Edgar Wallace krimi produced by Preben Phillipsen under the auspices of Danish studio Rialto. The surprise commercial success of The Fellowship of the Frog in West Germany necessitated a continuation of the series, and by and large The Red Circle faithfully follows the formula set up in the previous film. The novel was published in 1922 under the title The Crimson Circle, and has proved one of the most durable and oft adapted of Wallace’s crime novels. The first version appeared in the same year the book saw print, and was a British film directed by George Ridgwell. In 1929 a second version appeared, an Anglo-German production helmed by Frederic Zelnick. In 1940 another sole British venture appeared directed by Reginald Denham. These three treatments remain obscure and hard to find, and the 1960 version directed by Jürgen Roland is the most successful and visible. In saying that though, the Rialto film can still be a pain in the arse to track down for a reasonable price, but part of the fun of researching an area such as this is the leg work involved in securing a decent print. I may be in a minority in thinking that this is a culturally significant movie, and the poverty of critical thinking, or even cursory reviews in the English language on the internet, would seem to confirm my minority status. It’s a status I share with fellow scribe and krimi enthusiast Holger Haase, and I doff my hat to him for treading the dark and shadowy streets of Wallace’s London before me.

Celluloid Sounds - The Long Good Friday (1980)

A few years back I was asked by a fellow academic to decide upon my favourite British film of all time, and then write an appreciation of it, for a book that unfortunately never saw the light of day. I chose The Long Good Friday and as I think about it now, several years on, my decision would probably remain the same. My interest in British genre cinema goes far beyond horror; indeed at one time I had a greater interest in home-grown gangster, noir, and science-fiction films than I did with a lot of generically retrograde horror pictures. The challenge of a genre film is in providing something innovative and new within a restrictive narrative and iconographic environment; this is made even more challenging when that genre then has to be adjusted to the meta-narratives and cultural concerns of a national cinema. In some genres, such as the western, this is impossible. But the syntactic concerns of the American gangster film seem to fit the gritty social realism that marked large swathes of British cinema like a glove. The Long Good Friday is an innovative gangster picture that isn’t concerned with the rise of the criminal, but instead completely focuses on his fall, and it is a fall that is made supremely entertaining by Bob Hoskins’ apoplectic and bemused rage.

Guest Review - Outlaw (2007)

Dir: NICK LOVE
Country: UK

What is wrong with British Cinema? Nick Love, Outlaw and er... Danny Dyer.

“‘ee’s a facking nonce now put ‘im dahn!”

For my sins, I’m somehow drawn to write on the rather horrible but somewhat fascinating Outlaw. This is for two reasons. Firstly, it sits well outside the remit of Videotape Swapshop. Secondly, in conversation with the author of this fine film site, I was asked how I managed to live (and work) in London. I began to think about the cinematic representation of life in England’s capital – all the more relevant, I guess, with the current overwhelming and ongoing public image exercise at hand in the city with this summer’s Olympic Games preparations. Once upon a time, we had Mike Leigh to paint the picture of life in England, and often of life in and around London. It usually involved familial disputes over mismatching tea cups and Hygena kitchen sinks, and usually, intentionally, stretched no further than the semi detached landscape of the suburbs. Then, from the steaming afterbirth of the artful (Madonna) dodger Guy Ritchie and his pop grot hooliganism, Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (1998), emerged Nick Love.

The Exterminator (1980)

Dir: JAMES GLICKENHAUS
Country: USA

In an interview for Arrow Video’s recent blu-ray release the writer/director of The Exterminator James Glickenhaus mentions the influence of Sergio Leone’s ‘Dollars’ trilogy, is unable to avoid (though one gets the impression he’d like too) the obvious debt paid to Michael Winner’s Death Wish (1974), but doesn’t even mention Rolling Thunder (1977) the film to which The Exterminator is most closely allied. It seems inconceivable that Glickenhaus wasn’t at least on nodding terms with the Flynn/Schrader production, which was the first film to explore the readjustment of returning veterans within the framework of the vigilante/action sub-genre. Admittedly The Exterminator places almost its entire emphasis on the vigilante/action angle, and emerges as less worthy and thought provoking as a result, but the plus side is that it is much more entertaining due to its total commitment to exploitation elements. In the years following Rolling Thunder cinematic representations of Vietnam had taken a more existential and philosophical route in and out of the conflict. The critical and commercial success of award winning productions such as The Deer Hunter (1978) and Apocalypse Now (1979) had made the subject the territory of self professed ‘auteur’s’ driven by ego, greed, and megalomania. By contrast Glickenhaus chose to drag the subject down into the sewer, to wallow in the shit of Grindhouse exploitation, and I for one am extremely glad of this.

Rome: Armed to the Teeth (1976)

Dir: UMBERTO LENZI
Country: ITALY

AKA:
Roma a mano armata
Assault with a Deadly Weapon
Brutal Justice
The Tough Ones

In recent months I’ve had the opportunity to scrutinise in more detail the long and varied career of Italian director Umberto Lenzi. My relationship with Lenzi’s films have been fraught and negative at the best of times, but I have to confess to finding myself mellowing towards his work with each passing obscurity that crosses my desk. After all Lenzi has directed over sixty films and only one of them was called Cannibal Ferox (1981). The prevailing consensus has it that Lenzi’s career can be divided into two distinct camps. In the first are his many contributions to the giallo and poliziotesschi cycles, which are fondly recalled, and generally considered half decent. In the second camp is everything else! From what I have seen so far that seems to be a fair assessment. But the overriding problem I have with Lenzi’s films still remains; namely that Lenzi himself is never the best thing about his films. His 1976 poliziotesschi flick Rome: Armed to the Teeth is a very good working example of this. Without a doubt the most distinctive aspect of this production is its cast. The film is led by Maurizio Merli (much maligned in some quarters, but I’ve always found him to be an appealing actor), who by this point was a veteran of the cycle, and could do the tough guy cop routine in his sleep. The supporting cast includes excellent turns from Tomas Milian, Arthur Kennedy, Ivan Rassimov, and Giampiero Albertini and these performances serve to offset Merli’s lack of dimension. The films second most distinctive feature is the superb musical contribution of Franco Micalizzi, and then maybe…and it’s a big maybe, we might put the direction of Lenzi third.

Rolling Thunder (1977)

Dir: JOHN FLYNN
Country: USA

With the recent blu-ray release of Rolling Thunder courtesy of Studio Canal I thought it was high time I reacquainted myself with Major Charles Rane and his hook-handed vigilantism in the bordellos and bars of Mexico. For the last ten to fifteen years the film has been languishing in the sulphur pits of distribution hell, and in that time it has steadily built itself a cult reputation. This is in no small part due to Quentin Tarantino and his gushing masturbatory praise for the film. The fact that Tarantino is a big fan is just one indication of the films simplistic juvenilia. The second is a screenplay by Paul Schrader which completely recycles the themes and preoccupations of his earlier effort Taxi Driver (1976), but chooses to omit questions of social and political fragmentation in favour of a highly personalised odyssey of violence and revenge. Although both films share a number of themes and plot points (for example both films conclude with a blood drenched finale in a whorehouse) Taxi Driver possesses an awareness and intelligence that is entirely lacking in Rolling Thunder. If the two films were relatives then Rolling Thunder would be the immature and irritating younger brother. The film has the feel of a quick exercise for Mr. Schrader, certain aspects feel underdeveloped, and certain aspects just make no sense at all. For example why on earth would a quartet of hard nosed bastards torture Charles Rane, and then shoot his wife and kid before his very eyes, all for a lousy $2,000? It all seems a little over the top and unnecessary; the plot hinges on a number of absurd contrivances, the most ridiculous of which sees Rane end up with a hook instead of a hand!

Kill List (2011)

Dir: BEN WHEATLEY
Country: UK

Few British genre efforts come with quite the degree of fanfare afforded to Ben Wheatley’s second film Kill List. But beneath the enthusiasm the prevailing trend to emerge from discussions of Kill List is that it’s an extremely divisive film. The critical notices have been patchy, but whatever one might think of the film, people are certainly talking about it. As a long time supporter of indigenous genre production I’m all for this. Any film that inspires discussion and argument is of benefit, especially in a film culture that sorely needs distinctive and generically progressive material. For many Ben Wheatley will be a new name, but his darkly humorous and dialogue driven debut effort Down Terrace (2009) marked him out as fresh new talent. In a way Wheatley was fortunate that Down Terrace slipped quietly away into the ether because viewing it will certainly prepare you for the style and tone of Kill List. The key ingredient both films have in common is a sense of rising tension. An atmosphere of menace, imperceptible at first, that steadily builds throughout both films, and culminates in moments of unexpected bloodshed and violence. There might be some who feel that the generic shift in the final third of Kill List unbalances and undermines proceedings, but in light of the simmering ambience of the previous hour the narrative had to go somewhere. That the writers (Wheatley himself and his partner Amy Jump) opt for the folk-horror territory of The Wicker Man (1973) is to be commended in my view.

Hitch-Hike (1977)

Dir: PASQUALE FESTA CAMPANILE
Country: ITALY

AKA
Autostop rosso sangue
Death Drive
Hitchhike: Last House on the Left
The Naked Prey

The screen image of songwriter and actor David Hess is entirely based on a triumvirate of roles in which he played a psychopathic sadist. The recent untimely death of Mr. Hess prompted me to return to the lesser known of these three performances, the criminally insane armed robber Adam Konitz, who takes centre stage in Pasquale Festa Campanile’s offbeat exploitation flick Hitch-Hike. Due to dreadful distribution the laughing rapist Konitz has been greatly overshadowed by Last House on the Left’s (1973) Krug Stillo and The House on the Edge of the Park’s (1980) Alex. Although Hitch-Hike has its moments, it doesn’t quite reach the sadistic heights of these other two films, and this has almost certainly impacted on its relative obscurity. Fortunately this obscurity was redressed by Anchor Bay’s 2003 DVD release, and its subsequent re-issue by Blue Underground in 2008. Part of the pleasure of the film is in seeing Hess and Franco Nero blaze their own personal trails of rampant masculinity throughout the proceedings as they compete in a highly entertaining contest of one-upmanship. One is none too surprised to see Hess straying perilously close to over the top. But even Nero, whose understated sensibility of taciturn minimalism stoked the ire of the critics, gets caught up in the excitement. The excessiveness of Hess somehow brings out the best in Nero who puts in a fine and nuanced performance.

Chuck Norris Poster Gallery

THE WAY OF THE DRAGON aka RETURN OF THE DRAGON (Bruce Lee, 1972) #1 US poster (dubbed version)

THE WAY OF THE DRAGON #2 - Hong Kong Poster

THE WAY OF THE DRAGON #3 - Japanese poster

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

SLAUGHTER IN SAN FRANCISCO aka YELLOW FACED TIGER aka CHUCK NORRIS vs. THE KARATE COP (Wei Lo, 1974) - Hong Kong poster

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Missing in Action (1984)

Dir: JOSEPH ZITO
Country: USA

The mindless Chuck Norris action flick Missing in Action slots seamlessly into a strain of cinema in 1980’s America that sought to revise attitudes to the Vietnam War. The screenplay by James Bruner is typically jingoistic with an anti-communist backbone that would have done President Reagan proud. The question of illegally held American soldiers in Vietnam, and the ensuing minefield of diplomatic red tape, had been explored to some effect in Uncommon Valor (1983). But where Uncommon Valor sought to develop character, motivation, and emotional pathos, only concluding with a protracted action sequence, the Norris vehicle naturally opts for all out action from the get go. The embittered odyssey of Norris’ Colonel James Braddock did at least hit cinemas before the hulking idiocy of Stallone’s copycat Rambo: First Blood Part II (1985), and though I could gladly live without both films, if I was pressed I would much rather take Missing in Action to my desert island.

Lone Wolf McQuade (1983)

Dir: STEVE CARVER
Country: USA

The Chuck Norris action vehicle Lone Wolf McQuade immediately signifies its intent with an opening credit sequence that highlights the sub-Morricone music of Francesco De Masi. We are firmly in the territory of the modern day spaghetti western pastiche. In the early moments the film seems at pains to emphasise its status as a contemporary western. We have a group of modern day Mexican bandits horse rustling, we have plentiful shots of the wide open expanse of the dusty Texan landscape, and repeated close ups of Norris’ eyes and grim expression. If this isn’t enough we also get a musical fanfare when Norris reveals the badge on his chest that signifies he is a Texas Ranger. This action sequence is entirely constructed around the need to establish the tough guy credentials of J. J. McQuade. One would have thought the casting of Norris was enough, but the film is determined to avoid the cinematic shorthand his iconic presence signifies. In one fell swoop the opening action set piece establishes McQuade’s exceptional marksmanship, incredible martial arts skills, his status as a rebellious loner, and the incompetence of his fellow rangers. With every facet of McQuade’s character established in under eight minutes of screen time, director Steve Carver can get on with the job of stringing together an absurd, but oddly enjoyable narrative.