The Reincarnation of Peter Proud (1975)

 ☆ ☆ ½

The Reincarnation of Peter Proud (1975) – J. L. Thompson

Somehow the Seventies seems the right era for melancholy supernatural fare. There’s a loneliness found in many films of the era, from neo-noir to horror, as alienation and disillusionment set in.  In this film, college professor Peter Proud (Michael Sarrazin) is suffering from a recurring nightmare where he is swimming naked at night and approached by a woman in a rowboat who abruptly kills him with a paddle. His doctor can’t help him and sends him to a parapsychologist (with a sleep clinic) who discovers no evidence of dreams at all.  A shooting pain in his hip with no organic cause just adds to the mystery.  When he sees a too-familiar New England town on TV, remembered from his “dreams”, Peter heads East to investigate. By now, he suspects that he is really remembering a past life.  After a lengthy search, he makes contact with people he believes are his former wife, Marcia (Margot Kidder), now in her sixties (with old age make-up), and his adult daughter, Ann (Jennifer O’Neill), in Springfield, Mass.  He doesn’t let them know his visions, but falls for Ann despite the hint of incest. At this point, the film starts to lose its momentum, perhaps searching for a satisfactory ending – an extended square dance sequence is the nadir – and then the end is in sight, a perfect looping back to the film’s opening scenes. But alas, whatever spooky suspense was built up in the film’s first sequences has long since been squandered (notwithstanding an extremely unpleasant flashback) and the film ends abruptly, its promise denied.

 

Night Moves (1975)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Night Moves (1975) – A. Penn

Gene Hackman is pretty soulful as private eye Harry Moseby who has problems of his own (his wife is cheating on him) that may cloud his judgment as he works on what should be a perfunctory missing daughter case. The daughter in question turns out to be a very young Melanie Griffith who has fled to the Florida Keys to escape her washed-up actress mother in Hollywood, as well as ex-boyfriend mechanic James Woods and recent fling stuntman Marv. She is shacked up with her stepfather (and his girlfriend Jennifer Warren). So Harry flies down there to bring her back. Initially, she doesn’t want to return but after they discover a downed plane underwater with a corpse in it, suddenly she is ready to go back. Harry isn’t quite satisfied to let the case drop at this point, but things aren’t very clear. He suspects Woods but is he missing the big picture? The title refers to a famous chess game where a grandmaster made a spectacular blunder when he could have won – this may also be Harry’s fate.  Neo-noir but loose and often seemingly directionless (probably by design) but it doesn’t rise to the level of something like The Long Goodbye (1973), which could be the difference between an Altman and a Penn, I guess.

Farewell, My Lovely (1975)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

Farewell, My Lovely (1975) – D. Richards

This third version of Chandler’s 1940 novel stars Robert Mitchum as Philip Marlowe, private detective, hired by Moose Malloy to find his lost love, Velma, who stopped keeping in touch while he spent 6 years in the can.  Although the Marlowe of the book is in his 30s, Mitchum was 59 and plays the character as world-weary – which is quite a contrast to the 1944 version starring Dick Powell (called Murder, My Sweet to avoid audiences thinking it was a musical, Powell’s original forté) where Marlowe is portrayed as a bit more full of zing, although still sardonic and cynical about human nature. I’ve practically memorised the 1944 noir, so I started to note the changes in this later version – until there were a bit too many (Florian’s is an African American establishment now, Amthor is a madame in a house of ill-repute, etc.). Later, I checked the book to confirm that although some of the changes made the ’75 film truer to Chandler, the majority did not and the ’44 film remains a more faithful rendition.  The plot is, as usual, complicated – Marlowe gets tricked into chasing the wrong Velma, kidnapped and held prisoner (all drugged up), and pursued by the law for murders that he did not commit. Young Charlotte Rampling has a brief turn as Velma. All told, this is a rather ordinary outing that feels like a made-for-TV movie with that awkward 70s doing the 30s falseness that rings hollow throughout (despite the presence of a genuine film noir star in the lead). Probably OK if you haven’t seen the superior 1944 film.    

 

The Magic Flute (1975)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Magic Flute (1975) – I. Bergman

Returning to my Bergman Blu-Ray Boxset (thanks, Mom & John!) – I’m up to Disc 20 (out of 30).  This one feels a bit atypical – a version of Mozart’s opera seemingly filmed onstage and in front of an audience (but actually directly for the cameras on a soundstage). The overture shows close-ups of people awaiting the start of the performance, people from a large age range and from multiple ethnic backgrounds. We will return to one young girl’s reactions throughout the film. Once the opera starts (and it is close to 100% sung – although I did not recognise any familiar melodies – probably my lack of exposure to opera as a whole), we are often across the proscenium arch and up close with the characters.  The plot involves a prince, Tamino, who has been asked by the Queen of the Night to rescue her daughter Pamina from the sorcerer Sarastro.  He has a magic flute to help him.  A puckish bird-catcher Papageno helps him (with the assistance of some magic bells). It turns out that Sarastro may not be all that he seems. Tamino and Papageno have to undergo some trials leading to Enlightenment in order to win the hands of Pamina and another maiden, Papagena.  Bergman’s staging is cozy and cute, designed for a small provincial stage rather than a grand Opera House. We are treated to several scenes of the performers backstage or offstage. I tried to relate this back to Bergman’s larger themes (across his oeuvre) – thinking about performance vs. reality or love as the reason for existence in the face of an absent or non-existent god – but I might need help making some connections.  In fact, Bergman may have simply wanted to present a version of one of his favourite works.    

 

Death Race 2000 (1975)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

Death Race 2000 (1975) – P. Bartel

Paul Bartel’s low budget cult films don’t usually attract name actors (unless Mary Woronov counts!), so it is a surprise to see David Carradine (post-Kung Fu) and Sylvester Stallone (pre-Rocky) here. Of course, the film is in bad taste:  it’s the future and the biggest entertainment on TV is a cross-country car race where participants score bonus points by killing innocent bystanders (more points for kids and the elderly). The cars and costumes are Seventiestastic! But there’s a twist this year – a group of resistance fighters is sabotaging cars and trying to capture the favourite, Frankenstein (Carradine); they’ve even planted one of their own in his car, as the navigator (Simone Griffeth).  The rebels want to end the reign of the lifetime president. But, hey, no one watches this film for the plot – instead, they want jokes in bad taste (with nudity and phony violence) that probably seemed pretty outrageous for 1975.  In the end, it’s nowhere near as great as the director’s amazing Eating Raoul but it’s certainly passable, if you’re looking for this sort of film.

 

Escape to Witch Mountain (1975)

☆ ☆ ☆

Escape to Witch Mountain (1975) – J. Hough

I had a fond memory of liking this one back in the Seventies and so I asked the kids to watch it with me.  I could not remember a whit.  So, in fact, I enjoyed the suspense.  The film starts unusually “in the middle” with two kids, Tia (Kim Richards) and Tony (Ike Eisenmann) being dropped off at an orphanage after their foster parents have died.  Soon, we learn that these kids have psychic powers, which soon come to the attention of a rich businessman (Ray Milland) by way of his employee (Donald Pleasance).  After forged papers release the kids to Pleasance, they spend one night in Milland’s mansion before they realise that trouble is afoot and escape.  The rest of the movie is one long chase – the kids take refuge in Eddie Albert’s Winnebago and he drives them toward their home (revealed by a hidden map in Tia’s “star case”) at Witch Mountain.  There are some funny moments during the chase but perhaps some of it is funny due to the era’s silly special effects.  Aito was not impressed (although I caught him laughing).  Amon might have been a little bit scared.  I enjoyed the nostalgia and the Disney-fied weirdness. 

  

Three Days of the Condor (1975)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Three Days of the Condor (1975) – S. Pollack

The ‘70s conspiracy theory genre is evergreen! But Sydney Pollack’s film is a bit hollow at its core – sort of like those Hitchcock thrillers where the hero is on the run, in search of the MacGuffin that will prove his innocence, but the running is more important than the plot device that inspires it.  This film has a lot of scenes of Robert Redford running.  He plays Joe Turner, a CIA researcher (not spy), who suddenly finds all of his colleagues shot dead and suspects that the agency itself is responsible.  He kidnaps Faye Dunaway randomly and convinces her to help him.  Then, it is all about getting to the conspirators at the top (including Cliff Robertson and John Houseman).  Throughout it all, cool hitman Max von Sydow is on his trail.  Turner uses his wits and book-knowledge to foil him and the conspirators – but, in the cynical ‘70s, can he ever really win against the powerful?  As I said, the themes here are evergreen!  However, if you really want some classic conspiracy drama, I recommend the Alec Guinness miniseries of Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy (1979) and Smiley’s People (1982).  The long form gives more room for plot mechanics and character development, something that isn’t possible here, where Redford relies on his typical charm and personality to get by instead.  

Hustle (1975)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Hustle (1975) – R. Aldrich

Better than I expected “neo-noir” from director Robert Aldrich and star Burt Reynolds.  Sure, it contains all the clichés of the genre (more like those from a TV cop series really).  Burt’s a worn out police detective living with his girlfriend (a hooker) and dealing with a dead girl washed up on the beach (also a hooker/stripper). He dreams of the time he spent in Italy when things weren’t so bleak and plays jazz records from that time.  Burt doesn’t emote much, yet he fills the role fine.   But Aldrich has loaded the film with some very fine actors who improve the script with their presence:  Catherine Deneuve as the girlfriend, Ben Johnson and Eileen Brennan as the parents of the dead girl, Paul Winfield as Burt’s partner, Ernest Borgnine as his boss, and Eddie Albert as the chief bad guy.  Yes, it’s seedy as hell and sexist (of course) but no one advertised this as anything different.  Still, there’s a melancholy mood that lingers and sometimes that’s what you want.

Xala (1975)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Xala (1975) – O. Sembene

Director Ousmane Sembene’s satire on the state of African politics (circa 1975) starts off with a broad slap: African businessmen taking over the government of the country (presumably Senegal) from the French receive briefcases full of cash, presumably bribes. Then, the script hones in on one particular businessman (Thierno Leye) about to take a third wife who finds himself cursed on his wedding night with the Xala (impotence).  It doesn’t become clear until the end of the film who placed this curse on him (he suspects his other two wives as well as rival businessmen).  He visits an array of witch-doctors to try to find a cure and eventually does, but by then his finances are in disarray and his check bounces!  The rest of the Chamber of Commerce (all corrupt) vote to kick him out.  The final scene, where aggrieved beggars have their vengeance, is straight out of Bunuel (or John Waters).  Indeed, the low budget proceedings, sets and settings of African in the seventies, contrast with the tale of corruption (e.g., a line of Mercedes proceeds down a dusty street littered with garbage, watched by those seriously disabled beggars).  Music by Samba Diabare Samb (playing a primitive lilting stringed instrument) adds to the effect.  In retrospect, knowing the ending, everything falls into place and the film makes sense (and has bite) – but along the way it wasn’t entirely clear where it was going.... 

Tommy (1975)

☆ ☆ ☆

Tommy (1975) – K. Russell

I have to admit that I’m not overly familiar with The Who’s concept album, Tommy – but listening to it now, I have to declare that the band’s original versions of these songs are (for the most part) far superior to the movie’s remakes featuring Ann-Margret, Oliver Reed, Elton John, Jack Nicholson, Tina Turner, Eric Clapton, and even Roger Daltrey.  As expected, director Ken Russell (Women in Love, The Devils, Altered States), an apt choice, brings the excess.  Ann-Margret’s (Oscar-nominated!) performance as Tommy’s mother is particularly over-the-top.  The album/movie tells the story of a boy who witnesses the murder of his returning serviceman father by his mum/stepdad which leads him to become psychosomatically deaf, dumb, and blind.  Eventually he becomes a pinball superstar and then a messiah of sorts (after he is awakened).  I’ll admit that my attention wavered at times but the sounds and images were seemingly more important than the plot, at least to Russell.  The Who obviously fully sanctioned this version and appear as themselves or in character parts throughout the film; however, the music is often created by others, corrupting the band’s sound.  Nevertheless, Elton John’s version of Pinball Wizard was apparently a hit at the time and the staging for the movie is pretty bizarre.  Of course, the band smash their instruments at its conclusion.

Shampoo (1975)

☆ ☆ ½

Shampoo (1975) – H. Ashby

There’s a downbeat seventies feel to Shampoo, even as it seems to be a satire on the sexual mores of the Beverly Hills set.  Warren Beatty is the hairdresser who sleeps with all of his clients (“heads”) despite stringing along Goldie Hawn who really loves him (maybe).  But Beatty’s character is so empty we never get inside him, even as he can’t make up his mind about whether he should commit to Julie Christie, who enters back into his life as the mistress of the businessman husband (Jack Warner) of one of his clients (Best Supporting Oscar winner Lee Grant).  Beatty is so empty that he defeats the film’s attempt to make this a character study, although emptiness may be the focus of the screenplay (by Chinatown’s Robert Towne).  The action occurs on the night of Nixon’s election in 1968, sounding another bum note in the apparent tribute to hedonism (and narcissism) that was soon to come crashing down.  (And poor Julie Christie has a few crude scenes that just don’t feel right).  Still, that is one hell of a party (with Beatles, Hendrix, Buffalo Springfield soundtrack) they seemed to be having in 1968.  Unfortunately, no one here has a sense of what they really want and the film drifts as they attempt to find out.  I expected more from director Hal Ashby and this team.     

Black Moon (1975)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Black Moon (1975) – L. Malle

Befuddling…in a good way; although the film could also be maddening to those trying hard to understand it (or who require a more linear plot).  A young blonde girl straight out of Alice in Wonderland is driving through what appears to be a warzone (and the war might just be between men and women).  After some unpleasant encounters, she makes it to a seemingly abandoned farmhouse (seemingly in France, although everyone speaks English; in reality it was Malle’s home).  Upstairs she finds an old woman talking to a giant rat (or possibly a marsupial of some kind); the woman uses a radio to communicate with others and seeks to keep Lily (not Alice) prisoner.  And then she seems to die and Lily escapes out the window where she sees Joe Dallesandro and a unicorn.  Later, Joe’s twin sister breastfeeds the old woman; subsequently Lily does the same and also maybe breastfeeds the unicorn.  Of course, this is all surreal, but played rather straight.  There are farm animals and naked children everywhere.  The animals sometimes speak (including the unicorn).  The landscape is autumnal and beautiful (shot by Sven Nykvist).  There is no clear way to understand the plot although some have alluded to a coming-of-age or sexual awakening that is occurring for Lily.  That is, if this is a dream to be interpreted psychoanalytically, then sometimes a unicorn is not a unicorn but Little Joe is the more obvious symbol.  Then again, a black moon in pagan times may be a chaotic period or a time for heightened magic.  Both are happening here.  Moreover, the backdrop of the seventies and the women’s movement and other social changes may have also influenced Malle.  Or so they say.  But your guess is as good as mine!  

Wrong Move (1975)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Wrong Move (1975) – W. Wenders

The second film in Wim Wenders’ Road Trilogy, after Alice in the Cities and before Kings of the Road, also starring Rudiger Vogler.  Here, he fashions himself to be a writer but has nothing to say.  Venturing away from his home by train to Bonn, he picks up several travelling companions, similarly aimless (including Hanna Schygulla as an actress, and teen Nastassja Kinski as a circus performer). The script by Peter Handke is artificial and didactic, focusing on alienation but also referring to (or laying blame upon) Germany’s wartime past and the complicity (or active engagement) by some in the atrocities.  The characters may allegorically symbolise different subsections of Germany’s population (youth, older generation, etc.).  Naturalistic, this is not.  Yet somehow Wenders’ directorial choices, aided immensely by Robby Mueller’s cinematography, keep things fresh.  Tracking shots abound and the countryside is green and the city dotted with bright colours.  Vogler and his companions drift along and we note the things that happen but nothing seems to affect him.  Instead, he is alone and unable to find purpose and meaning.  The other films in the trilogy seem less fully depressed.

Lost Hearts/The Treasure of Abbot Thomas/The Ash Tree (1973/1974/1975)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Lost Hearts/The Treasure of Abbot Thomas/The Ash Tree (1973/1974/1975) – L. G. Clark

The BBC and director Lawrence Gordon Clark offered Ghost Stories for Christmas during the early 1970’s with a series of dramatizations of short stories by M. R. James.  These three tales all follow the typical formula (also seen in A Warning to the Curious and Whistle and I’ll Come to You) where a naïve outsider stumbles into malevolent horror, sometimes because they make some selfish choices and sometimes (as in Lost Hearts) for no good reason at all -- although the old man who comes to a bad end after dabbling in the occult might be seen to fit the mould, even as the child protagonist is our eyes and ears.  Of the three, I found “The Treasure of Abbot Thomas” to be the most satisfying, with a plot focused on solving a mystery with clues extracted from Latin text (um, a la Dan Brown?) to find the treasure – but with an ambiguous ending.  The Ash-Tree has a weird punchline but it is somewhat more inscrutable, perhaps because the narrative isn’t laid out clearly.  Nevertheless, all three offer some creepy moments and are worth a look.  Now, having partaken in a fair few of these TV versions, I am persuaded to read some of the original short stories – perhaps after I have finished my Lovecraft tome.  Now those would make for some real scares at Xmas or any other time!  

Innocents with Dirty Hands (1975)

☆ ☆ ☆

Innocents with Dirty Hands (1975) – C. Chabrol

I’ve only recently delved into Chabrol’s thrillers (after dipping my toe in the water with his first nouvelle vague films (Le Beau Serge, Les Cousins) – and there are some excellent suspenseful movies from which to choose (basically any of the six films between Les Biches in 1968 and Just Before Nightfall in 1971).  As with Hitchcock before him (and Chabrol wrote a famous book about the Master of Suspense along with Eric Rohmer), Chabrol deals with issues of guilt and moral complicity with a wry sense of humor.  However, I found this international production (starring Romy Schneider and Rod Steiger) left me a bit cold.  They are married but she takes a younger lover and they plot to kill him.  But things don’t go right and both of the men end up dead with Schneider then the prime suspect for the police (who are played rather comically).  As the plot unravels there are a few twists and turns but somehow I never quite cared about Schneider or Steiger enough to feel suspense about their fates.  I’m not sure whether this is the fault of the acting, the English-dubbed version I watched, the script, or Chabrol.  Start somewhere else with his oeuvre.