Unknown's avatar

About JStafford

I am a writer for The Travel Channel, ArtsATL.com, Burnaway.org and other publications. I am also a film researcher for Turner Classic Movies and a member of the Atlanta Film Critics Circle. This blog is dedicated to overlooked, obscure or underrated movies and other cinema topics that I want to share.

The Dark Side of Robert Young

Robert Young plays an embezzler and a womanizer whose luck runs out in THEY WON’T BELIEVE ME (1947), an underrated film noir.

When most baby boomers think of actor Robert Young, they probably recall his popular TV medical series Marcus Welby, M.D. (1969-1976) where he was the epitome of the kind, compassionate doctor or they remember Jim Anderson, the perfect dad in the all-American family sitcom Father Knows Best (1954-1960). He was also typecast as “Mr. Nice Guy” in most of his Hollywood films, playing cheerful romantic leads or the leading man’s best friend or some other debonair, noble or well-intentioned character who rarely made a strong impression compared to more assertive male leads like Clark Gable, Gary Cooper or Spencer Tracy. But there were several occasions when Young discarded his good guy image by playing shadowy characters, outright villains, or damaged human beings.  Among these atypical casting choices, Young is most memorable in Alfred Hitchcock’s Secret Agent (1936) as an undercover spy, a budding fascist in The Mortal Storm (1940), a shellshocked and physically maimed war veteran in The Enchanted Cottage (1945), a complete cad and accused murderer in the underrated film noir They Won’t Believe Me (1947), directed by Irving Pichel, and an architect who is suspected of being a dangerous criminal in The Second Woman (1950).

Robert Young as the star of the popular TV series, MARCUS WELBY, M.D. (1969-1976).
Continue reading

Time Machine

There may come a time in the future when science or even advanced AI creates a way that humans can time travel to another year or century. It might seem improbable now but look at all the technological innovations that we never thought possible and are now a reality. At the same time, movie lovers already know they can vicariously visit people and places in the past thanks to the miracle of motion pictures. Just as recently as 2018, Peter Jackson produced and directed They Shall Not Grow Old, a stunning collection of archival footage from World War I which he had restored and colorized from black to white to give the documentary an immediacy and impact that brought the soldiers on screen to life (before they met their untimely deaths on the battlefield). If you want to go back even further to the turn of the century, you can experience life in the U.K. (mostly northern England with a few stops in Ireland) in Electric Edwardians: The Lost Cinema of Mitchell & Kenyon (2005), an amazing treasure trove of footage from 1901 and beyond that was considered lost for years until its discovery in 1994.

Continue reading

The Italian Conspiracy

The Italian film poster for PIAZZA FONTANA: THE ITALIAN CONSPIRACY (2012).

On December 12, 1969, a bomb exploded in the Banca Nazionale dell’Agricoltura (National Agricultural Bank) in Piazza Fontana, near the Duomo in Milan, Italy. 17 people died from the explosion and more than 84 were injured. Other unexploded bombs were discovered at several places in the city the same day and the attack was obviously the coordinated effort of a terrorist group. More than 80 arrests were made and, at first, the police suspected members of the Anarchists Club. One of them – Giuseppe ‘Pino’ Pinelli – was held for questioning at police headquarters for more than 72 hours. During a break in his interrogation on the fourth floor, he allegedly went to the window for air and fell to his death below. Luigi Calabresi, the police commissioner, had left the room briefly to retrieve a telegram when this occurred, but was told varying accounts of what happened when he returned – most of which stated that Pinelli had committed suicide by leaping to this death. The press and the public were immediately suspicious of this and the investigation became more complicated with other terrorist groups being implicated, most notably the neo-fascist group Ordine Nuovo. The Piazza Fontana bombing resulted in three different trials – one in 1972, one in 1987 and one in 2000 – but no one was ever officially changed and convicted for the crime. The investigations launched countless conspiracy theories and remain a controversial subject even today but it was more than forty years later that a filmmaker would dramatize the events in a movie. That would be celebrated Italian director Marco Tullio Giordana, who released Romanzo di una Strage (English title: Piazza Fontana: The Italian Conspiracy) in 2012.

Continue reading

With Sword in Hand

When was the last time you heard someone use the term swashbuckler? That’s a word that harkens back to another time but cinephiles associate it with a specific kind of action-adventure costume drama that became popular during the silent era. It also brought the work of novelist Rafael Sabatini to a larger audience thanks to movie adaptations of his most popular books. Early film adaptations include Scaramouche (1923) with Ramon Novarro in the title role, the 1924 versions of Captain Blood and The Sea Hawk and Bardeleys the Magnificent (1926) starring John Gilbert. And it was Errol Flynn who would come to represent the epitome of a swashbuckling hero, one skilled in sword fighting and other daring feats, in definitive versions of two Sabatini novels, Captain Blood (1935) and The Sea Hawk (1940) plus his iconic role in The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)

Yet, of all the swashbuckling novels written by Rafael Sabatini, Scaramouche is probably his best and most enduring work, even more so than Captain Blood, because of its rich and complex narrative, which spawned so many movie adaptations. Besides the superb 1924 silent version, there is MGM’s lavish 1952 Technicolor remake with Stewart Granger, the 1963 French costumer The Adventures of Scaramouche, an Italian comedy spoof Da Scaramouche or se Vuoi L’assoluzione Baciar devi sto…Cordone! (1973), a Spanish spinoff Los Hijos de Scaramouche (1975) and the 1976 international production The Loves and Times of Scaramouche (1976), directed by Enzo G. Castellari. There were even more adaptations and ripoffs including TV versions but my favorite of the lot is MGM’s 1952 remake.

Continue reading

Charlotte Rampling’s Wild Card

The French film poster for the 1975 thriller THE FLESH OF THE ORCHID, directed by Patrice Chereau.

Charlotte Rampling has been an international star since the mid-1970s when she appeared in Zardoz (1974), The Night Porter (1974) and Farewell, My Lovely (1975), but during her early career, critics were more likely to comment on her beauty and sex appeal over her acting talent. It wasn’t until she began appearing in the films of Francois Ozon (Under the Sand [2000], Swimming Pool [2003]) and other independent, cutting-edge directors like Dominik Moll (Lemming, 2005) and Laurent Cantet (Heading South, 2005) that Rampling finally came into her own as a critically acclaimed actress and cult favorite. She has rarely steered clear of edgy material or doing nude scenes or choosing unconventional roles over more audience friendly fare and her movies from the late sixties through the mid-nineties reflect this. Some were pretentious misfires like The Ski Bum (1971) or eccentric one-offs (Yuppi du, 1975) or mainstream showcases for her talent such as Woody Allen’s Stardust Memories (1980) and Sidney Lumet’s The Verdict (1982). Yet, even her lesser known work from this period is often worth seeking out and La Chair de I’orchidee (English title, The Flesh of the Orchid, 1975), the debut film of French director Patrice Chereau, is certainly a wild card. A psychological thriller that seems to take place in an alternate universe where everyone is misanthropic, corrupt, greedy or violent, Chereau’s first film is based on a 1948 pulp fiction novel by James Hadley Chase.

Continue reading

Wim Wenders Explores Yasujiro Ozu’s Favorite City

By the time Wim Wenders won the Palme d’Or at Cannes for Paris, Texas in 1984, he was well established as an internationally renowned director. He made his first big splash on the world stage in the early 1970s along with other New German Cinema directors (Werner Herzog, R.W. Fassbinder, etc.) with films such as The Goalie’s Anxiety at the Penalty Kick (1972) and Alice in the Cities (1974). Wenders had also dabbled with non-fiction-like formats in early experimental shorts, music videos and the Cannes-focused TV documentary of various film directors in Chambre 666 (1982). Yet, it was Tokyo-Ga 1985), the feature length portrait he made directly after Paris, Texas, that really triggered Wenders’s interest in not just non-fiction filmmaking but in Japan cinema and culture, especially the works of Yasujiro Ozu.

Continue reading

Not Fade Away

For rock ‘n’ roll fans, February 3, 1959, has a special significance. It’s “the day the music died,” because on that date Buddy Holly, one of the pioneers of rock ‘n’ roll music, was killed in a plane accident in the midwest along with Ritchie Valens and the Big Bopper. The incident robbed the world of a true musical visionary whose constant experimentation in this new music might have had an even greater impact on the recording industry had he lived. But Holly’s music had a life of its own and would later serve as inspiration to the Beatles and musicians like Marshall Crenshaw (who would eventually play Buddy Holly in La Bamba, 1987, a dramatization of Ritchie Valens’ life). In The Buddy Holly Story (1978), the legend from Lubbock, Texas, is reassessed in a thoroughly entertaining musical biography that mixes fact and fiction in equal parts, a practice Hollywood is unable to resist despite the potential for distortion and false allegations. Luckily, the film captures Holly’s charm and stubborn individuality through Gary Busey’s chameleon-like performance in the title role.

Continue reading

Just Deserts

Men behaving badly could easily qualify as a cinema subgenre with such classic examples as Kirk Douglas in Champion (1949) and Robert De Niro in Raging Bull (1980) leading the pack but the athletic anti-hero of La Noche Avanza (English title: Night Falls or The Night Draws On, 1952) might even surpass them in terms of sheer toxic masculinity. Marcos (Pedro Armendariz) is Mexico’s most famous undefeated jai alai champion, a public hero and a sexually magnetic lure for women. He is also the epitome of an arrogant macho muchacho Latin male who considers everyone else inferior with boasts like “I’m one of the victorious, the strong…The weak don’t count.”

Continue reading

Balancing Act

When was the last time you went to the circus? For most people, that form of popular entertainment has changed drastically over the years and is now more likely to be a showcase for human acts like Cirque de Soleil than one featuring performing animals (dancing elephants, lion taming, horses leaping through hoops of fire, etc). But there was a time from the late 19th to the middle of the 20th century when circuses were the ultimate family entertainment. Movies, in particular, captured the golden age of the circus in a variety of genres that ranged from big screen spectacles (The Greatest Show on Earth [1952], Circus World [1964]) to slapstick comedies (The Circus [1928], At the Circus [1939]) to Walt Disney fare (Dumbo [1941], Toby Tyler or Ten Weeks with a Circus [1960]) to horrific murder mysteries (Circus of Horrors [1960, Berserk [1967]). Yet, there are few, if any, that merge fantasy and reality in the style of Japanese director Kaizo Hayashi’s Nijisseiki Shonen Dokuhon (English title: Circus Boys, 1989). This balancing act is also matched metaphorically through the two main protagonists who must learn to come to terms with gravity, whether it is riding an elephant, walking a tightrope or finding stability in their lives.

Continue reading

Canuxploitation or Social Realism?

Canadian writer/director Denys Arcand burst upon the international film world in 1986 with his film The Decline of the American Empire, which won the FIPRESCI Prize at Cannes and the Best Foreign Language Film from the New York Film Critics Circle plus it received an Oscar nomination for Best Foreign Language Film (it lost to The Assault, a Nazi-themed WW2 drama from the Netherlands). A witty but cynical talkfest about a gathering of academics obsessed with sex, Decline was often compared by critics at the time to 1983’s The Big Chill, except it was a “feel bad” version of it. More critical acclaim and awards followed for Arcand’s follow-up feature Jesus of Montreal (1989) and his later work, The Barbarian Invasions (2003), which is often regarded as his finest achievement.

What most non-Canadians didn’t know at the time was that Arcand had made a name for himself making award-winning documentaries for the National Film Board of Canada and then dabbled in the B-movie genre with an unofficial trilogy of crime dramas: La Maudite Galette (English title: Dirty Money, 1972), Rejeanne Padovani (1973) and Gina (1975). These low budget efforts, all of which were shot in Quebec in the French language, helped Arcand hone his skills as a director but were decidedly down and dirty efforts compared to his more intellectual art-house fare in the 1980s yet there is nothing typical or cliched about Arcand’s crime trilogy. Dirty Money depicts a murder scheme for money gone wrong and looks like a precursor to The Coen Brothers’ Blood Simple (1984). Rejeanne Padovani is a sordid tale of political corruption, bribery and murder that was seen as a barely disguised critique of the Canadian government at the time. And Gina, probably my favorite of the three, is a strangely effective hybrid of softcore melodrama and revenge thriller crossed with a bleak portrait of working class life in the provinces – in this case, the textile mill town of Louiseville, Quebec during a particularly frigid winter.

Continue reading