Curse of the Crimson Altar (1968)

 ☆ ☆ ½

Curse of the Crimson Altar (1968) – V. Sewell

The drawcard here is that this late 60s horror film features not only Christopher Lee (Hammer’s Horror of Dracula, 1958, and more) and Barbara Steele (Black Sunday, 1960, and more) but also Boris Karloff (no introduction needed) who was by this point confined to a wheelchair. Each of them is as charismatic as always but there isn’t really much happening in this film, except a bit of high weirdness. Robert Manning (Mark Eden) goes in search of his missing brother to an old village/estate where they celebrate the burning of a witch, Lavinia Morley (Steele), centuries earlier – except that through some magic Lavinia still haunts the place and seeks to destroy the descendants of her destroyers (the Mannings, of course).  There isn’t any gore here and only the mildest of grindhouse titillation and not even any scares, just a few scenes meant to be psychedelic, I think. Perhaps these scenes where Steele tries to force the Mannings to sign their souls away in the devil’s book make the film worth it. Or perhaps Karloff’s gleeful look when he says he collects “instruments of torture” is enough. But other than that, it is just a lot of waiting around while Eden talks to the others or searches the old house and grounds. Not terrible.

 

The Party (1968)

 

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Party (1968) – B. Edwards

Peter Sellers stars as an Indian actor (so you have to decide for yourself right away whether you will accept this potentially racist conceit) who is a bit of a bumbler who gets fired from a movie for accidentally blowing up the set (this is in a pre-title credits sequence).  Due to a mix-up, he is accidentally invited to a posh party at the producer’s house – the movie itself simply shows us the party.  There is no plot to speak of but instead we follow the various encounters and accidents of the protagonist.  I suppose this film is a forerunner of the comedy of embarrassment, because unlike in the Clouseau/Pink Panther films (also by director Blake Edwards) where the hero is clearly a joke, you feel some sympathy for this poor Indian star, you feel embarrassed for him (for example, when he loses his shoe in the indoor river running through the house).  Fortunately, the film (and Sellers) doesn’t really treat Hrundi as a stereotype (well, not too much) and the partygoers are generally accepting of him even as he initiates a variety of “situations”.  So, was it funny? Occasionally yes – there is slapstick.  But the overall effect is something beyond this, something almost tender toward the character seems to emerge that is greater than the sum of the gags. 

 

Farewell, Friend (1968)

☆ ☆ ☆

Farewell, Friend (1968) – J. Herman

A French heist film with Alain Delon and … Charles Bronson?!?  Intriguing, but actually more of a curiosity than a pleasure.  Somehow Delon and Bronson wind up locked in a polyester company’s basement trying all the possible combinations to a safe that contains 200 million francs.  I guess this might have some parallels to our experience of quarantine right now! But it leads to a bare-chested punch-out between the two leads (but really their stage fighting is pretty crap – Eastwood did better with that orangutan).  The film might work better if the pace weren’t so leisurely but I guess we are supposed to enjoy the repartee between the two leads (which might work better if Bronson weren’t dubbed into French).  Eventually we get to the requisite plot twists which come out of the blue (or is that bleu?) and potentially involve some misogyny which unfortunately might be par for the course in this sort of 1968 manly movie (not denying its underlying homoerotic subtext). Look elsewhere (e.g., the films of Jean-Pierre Melville) for vintage Delon (not sure what to say about Bronson, the most famous Lithuanian – uh, Once Upon a Time in the West?).

  

Kill! (1968)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Kill!  (1968) – K. Okamoto

This is not your ordinary chanbara/samurai film – the plot seems the same (rogue samurai inserts himself into a political struggle and rights wrongs) but the action is often played for laughs rather than (or in addition to) something more serious.  Tatsuya Nakadai, so often the righteous hero, is instead a rather sly (though outwardly tramp-like) ex-samurai who helps those who need it while also fooling (and occasionally killing) those who seek to exert power wrongfully. Etsushi Takahashi plays a country bumpkin who wants to be a samurai but ends up assisting Nakadai, although ostensibly working for the other side. The source novel is by Shûgorô Yamamoto who also wrote the one used for Kurosawa’s Sanjuro (1962), a not dissimilar film (also with comedic elements).  I suppose the only drawback is that the plot seems rather overly convoluted and the many different characters are not always easily clear in terms of their role in the story.  Yet, Nakadai with his gentle ease and surprising comic presence carries the film.  That said, it wouldn’t be the same without Masaru Satô’s quirky spaghetti western-like soundtrack and Rokurô Nishigaki’s eye-catching widescreen cinematography. 

The Producers (1968)

☆ ☆ ☆

The Producers (1968) – M. Brooks

Apparently shocking at the time of its release but sadly Mel Brooks’ comedy has lost its ability to shock…or perhaps I am unshockable at present.  But with the magic of the mind, you (or I) can imagine what it must have been like to be stunned by comedy making fun of Hitler (although Lubitsch’s To Be or Not To Be (1942) did take a very funny stab at the Nazis concurrently with WWII – later remade by Brooks himself).  The result isn’t laugh out loud funny, the way that Young Frankenstein or Blazing Saddles can be, but it has some charm, even if there are some dated jokes and sexism.  I watched this (for the first time) to commemorate Gene Wilder’s death – I salute him – he has a way with gestures and underplaying the comedy that contrasts well with Zero Mostel’s brasher moves.  They play the titular producers who determine that securing one million dollars in investments for a cheap Broadway play destined to flop on the first night will leave them sitting pretty and flying down to Rio.  Choosing “Springtime for Hitler” seems to be the perfect choice (acknowledged to be in bad taste) but alas the comedy plays well for the masses – and so much so that Brooks was able to create a Broadway show and then a movie remake in recent years.  There’s enough here to enjoy but I confess to being underwhelmed compared to my expectations.

  

Coogan’s Bluff (1968)

☆ ☆ ☆

Coogan’s Bluff (1968) – D. Siegel

In a sort of prelude to Dirty Harry (1971), Don Siegel directs Clint Eastwood as a steely Arizona deputy sheriff come to the Big Apple to extradite a killer.  As was his m. o., Eastwood breaks all the rules, roughing up suspects (and others) and using whatever means were available (including sex) to get his way.  The expected fish-out-of-water gags are soon dispensed with in favour of straightforward action (fights and chases).  Siegel’s direction is no frills but it is effective and concise.  Lee J. Cobb is good in support as a harried NYC precinct chief (with other acting here just ordinary), but basically Eastwood’s star quality holds the film together.  Somehow, though, I just can’t find it in my heart to root for a reactionary hero.

Greetings! (1968)

☆ ☆ ½

Greetings! (1968) – B. De Palma

It’s hard to know what to make of this early film from Brian De Palma – it’s sort of a cross between those Godard films where everyone just delivers monologues to the camera and those Warhol films where non-actors sit around and talk about or engage in trashy behaviour.  And it’s a comedy or filmed in a comic vein that is pretty easy-going and never really boring.  Three guys try to get out of going to Vietnam by flunking their draft physical, debate the Warren Commission results, engage in computer dates, and create films that peeping toms might love.  But mostly they just talk.  Some of their monologues are dirty and some are funny.  You feel like you are with a bunch of goof-offs who are pretty good at enjoying themselves.  One of the guys happens to be Robert De Niro (in his first film).  Allen Garfield has a good bit as a smut peddler.  But, yeah, De Palma seems to have been a pervert from the start.  Godard and Warhol may have had more to say.    

Death by Hanging (1968)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Death by Hanging (1968) – N. Oshima

Oshima’s searing attack on the death penalty begins in stark documentary style, showing us the prison facilities involved in “death by hanging” and the steps taken in an individual execution.  This feels almost like a horror movie, especially when the hanging is unsuccessful and the prisoner lives.  Then, gradually Oshima reveals that his movie is really a dark farce, as the prison officials and chaplain begin to argue about how to proceed.  Should they hang the prisoner a second time or is that prohibited?  They decide that this is only possible if his mental faculties return and he can again appreciate his own guilt.  To make sure this happens, they act out his crimes (rape and murder of two teenage girls).  The film is now even more horrifying.  Gradually, Oshima begins to offer Brechtian/Godardian didactic statements in inter-titles and from a number of different characters.  The focus might have been on the death penalty but soon we are further afield, with a particular emphasis on the prejudice directed toward Korean-Japanese (the prisoner is one) by the Japanese majority. Further still, we are treated to imaginary fantasies (of collective guilt) and characters who appear and disappear from view in the execution chamber.  And then, unfortunately, the viewer gets quite lost.  However, for much of its length this is a potent and powerful and very dark critique of an unjust and barbaric punishment that still exists even to this day (and should not).  

Pretty Poison (1968)

☆ ☆ ½

Pretty Poison (1968) – N. Black

This film seems to exist only as a reaction to other films.  Hitchcock’s Psycho is most prominent as Tony Perkins’s young arsonist could easily be a reimagined Norman Bates released from an institution and a little shaky on the outside.  Meeting young Tuesday Weld allows him to engage fantasies of being a CIA agent and fighting industrial pollution (!!!) but she turns out to be even more sociopathic than him.  Thus we also receive echoes of the previous year’s Bonnie and Clyde.  However, the tone of Pretty Poison is strange – the music cues soft and sentimental feelings even as the young pair get deeper into trouble (including murder).  So, the film can’t quite decide if it feels sorry for an increasingly anxious Perkins or wants to take the sex and violence exploitation route with Weld.  Unfortunately, it winds up somewhere in between and loses some momentum as a result.