The Curious Charisma of Roddy McDowall: A Life in Art and Film

Film critic Leonard Maltin: “Roddy McDowall’s career spanned more than six decades, and he managed to remain relevant and respected throughout. His performances were always compelling, and his contributions to cinema are invaluable.”

Roddy McDowall certainly had a distinctive presence: He always seemed to exude this uncanny youthful appearance. Even as an adult, McDowall was described as being “perpetually youthful.”

“McDowall was sharp-faced, clearly intelligent, chilly in his pride, and a kid who believed in masking his feelings (just like real kids). There are scenes in the film (How Green Was My Valley) in which older actors seem to learn restraint and stealth from the child. He was so emphatically honest in that film, and a kid who sometimes looked like a little old man (it was observed in life how, close to 70, Roddy still had “a child’s open face’).”– David Thomson for The Independent:

In 1941, The Detroit Free Press had this to say: “The child marvel of Hollywood right now is 12-year-old Roddy McDowall who arrived here from England a year ago. The public hasn’t had a really good look at him, but he has already been boosted to stardom. If you saw Manhunt, that was a small part; it was just a warm-up for the role in How Green Was My Valley, which Fox had in mind when they signed him. It is in this, his second film over here, that Roddy is becoming an American screen personality in his own right.”

“I enjoyed being in movies when I was a boy. As a child, you’re not acting- you believe. Ah, if an adult could only act as a child does with that insane, playing-at-toy-soldiers concentration!” – Roddy McDowall

Roddy McDowall was a highly prolific and versatile actor whose career spanned nearly six decades, encompassing a variety of genres in film, television, and radio. He began his acting journey as a child in 1938 and continued to be a prominent figure in Hollywood until his death in 1998. Throughout his extensive career, McDowall appeared in a wide range of classic films, beginning with 20th Century Fox’s 1941 thriller Manhunt directed by Fritz Lang and including his breakout role in How Green Was My Valley (1941).

Maureen O’Hara and Roddy McDowall in How Green Was My Valley 1941.

This is where he met and became lifelong friends with actress Maureen O’Hara. After Fox’s Best Picture winner, they cast him in the war film Confirm and Deny 1941. The following year, he played Tyrone Power as a young boy in Son of Fury: The Story of Benjamin Blake 1942.

Also, in 1942, they gave him top billing in On the Sunny Side, and he was given co-star credit alongside Monty Woolie in The Pied Piper, playing an orphan of the war. With McDowall’s success sealed, MGM borrowed the fine young actor to star in  Lassie Come Home (1943). The studio held onto him and gave him the leading role in The White Cliffs of Dover in 1944. 

Anne Baxter, Monty Woolley, and Roddy McDowall in The Pied Piper 1942.

Roddy McDowall was voted the number 4 ‘Star of Tomorrow’ in 1944, and Fox gave him another starring role in Thunderhead – Son of Flicka 1945.

Early on, he turned to the theater, starring in the title role of Young Woodley in the summer stock production in West Port, Connecticut, in July 1946. With his love of working on the stage, Orson Welles cast him in his production of Macbeth, where he played Malcolm. In 1948, he took on the same role in the film version.

By now, it was the late 1940s & 1950s, and he signed with Monogram Pictures, a low-budget studio that embraced recognizable stars to make two pictures a year. McDowall made seven films with them and worked as associate producer for director Phil Karlson’s Rocky 1948, a story about a boy and his dog. This was followed by the adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson’s Kidnapped in 1948, Black Midnight directed by Budd Boetticher, Killer Shark, Big Timber in 1950, and The Steel Fist in 1952.

Lyn Thomas and Roddy McDowall in Black Midnight 1950.

Fans appreciate his appearance in the 70s disaster film The Poseidon Adventure (1972) and Overboard (1987). In the latter part of his life, he became a sought-after voice actor, lending his talents to animated projects such as A Bug’s Life (1998) and the popular television series Pinky and the Brain (1995-1998). Notably, McDowall also received acclaim on stage, winning a Tony Award for his supporting role in The Fighting Cock. McDowall worked with some of the most prominent actors in the industry, including Elizabeth Taylor, Gregory Peck, Orson Welles, Charlton Heston, Angela Lansbury, Kim Hunter, Vincent Price, Donald Crisp, Maureen O’Hara, Irene Dunne, Rock Hudson, Bette Davis, Jennifer Jones. Maurice Evans, Ruth Gordon, Natalie Wood, Lauren Bacall, Ava Gardner, and Rex Harrison. His career also included working with directors like Joseph L. Mankiewicz, John Ford, Jack Smight, Franklin J. Schaffner, and John Huston. His ability to transition from a child star to a respected adult performer set him apart in the industry.

Roddy McDowall possessed a fascinating duality; the contrast between his youthful looks and worldly-wise poise defined his unique charm and quiet intensity.

He was noted for his expressive eyes and articulate dispatch, which were instrumental in conveying a wide range of emotions. Roddy McDowall was intelligent and witty and often brought sharp intellect and a keen sense of humor to his roles, delivered with impeccable timing. McDowall was praised for his ability to mask feelings and convey restraint, even as a child actor. As an adult performer, he was characterized as “unpredictable,” which suggested a dynamic and varied approach to his roles. Critics noted his reliability as an actor, describing him as “always dependable.”

McDowall’s performances were subtle and nuanced: his approach to acting was all about restraint and introspection rather than over-the-top dramatics, at least in his earliest work. His acting was emotionally authentic, bringing a palpable sincerity to his characters and allowing audiences to connect with them on a profound level. Even in roles like Planet of the Apes, navigating the constraints of elaborate makeup, he transformed physical limitations into artistic opportunities. His performance transcended mere mimicry, embodying the character through a masterful blend of precise gestures and subtle nuances. Playing Cornelius in the Planet of the Apes series, he masterfully balanced intelligence, empathy, and subtle humor.

Continue reading “The Curious Charisma of Roddy McDowall: A Life in Art and Film”

The Warriors 1979 – Waaaarrrrrriiiorsss, come out to pla-i-ay!

In 1979, I was drawn to two influential films. Carpenter’s Escape From New York (whose production design leaned into a “feudal” visual style for the prison island) and The Warriors 1979, an ultra-violent and thrilling pulp hit recognizing the crime-ridden New York City of the late 1970s, which were in shambles.

Walter Hill’s 1979 film The Warriors neo-feudal New York has established itself as a cult classic in American cinema, offering an offbeat portrayal of New York City’s urban landscape. Based on Sol Yurick’s 1965 novel, the film presents a dystopian vision of the city where street gangs dominate the nocturnal realm of New York nightlife. Roger Ebert gave it two stars and condemned it as ‘a ballet of stylized male violence.’

The 30-mile odyssey through enemy territory becomes a gauntlet of survival as they navigate through territories controlled by hostile gangs, all of whom are now hunting the film’s protagonists, the Warriors. Hill’s adaptation amplifies the tension and urgency of Yurick’s source material, creating a kinetic thriller that captivates audiences with its unique blend of action and urban mythology.

Walter Hill’s gritty cult classic hit theaters on February 9, 1979, plunging audiences into a nightmarish vision of New York City that eerily mirrored the metropolis’s real-life struggles. The Warriors is notable for its stylized depiction of gang culture, its diverse cast, and its blend of gritty realism with an almost mythic storytelling element. This environment provided a plausible backdrop for the film’s dystopian version of the city. By combining these elements, The Warriors emerged as a unique blend of ancient storytelling, contemporary urban issues, and a high-stylized cinematic story.

The gang the warriors aimed to create a “tribal feeling of going into battle together, of loyalty, of support and shared goals” and to have “the audience’s sympathy as they fight off all the other gangs in the city.”

The narrative follows the eponymous gang, hailing from the seaside amusements of Coney Island, who find themselves falsely accused of assassinating a prominent gang leader. This inciting incident propels them into a perilous journey across the neon-lit city from the northern reaches of the Bronx as they venture deep into enemy territory to their home turf in southern Brooklyn.

The Warriors’ treacherous journey begins when they attend a grand assembly in the Bronx, orchestrated by the charismatic leader Cyrus, portrayed by Roger Hill.

Cyrus, the doomed visionary of the city’s most powerful gang, the Gramercy Riffs, calls a midnight summit of all New York City gangs in Van Cortlandt Park. Each gang is asked to send nine unarmed representatives. During the meeting, Cyrus proposes a citywide truce in order to forge an alliance, suggesting that the gangs could rule the city together as they outnumber the police.

However, the summit takes a tragic turn when Cyrus falls victim to an assassin’s bullet. Luther, the unstable leader of the Rogues, shoots the magnetic leader. In the ensuing chaos, Luther frames the Warriors for the murder.

The Warriors find themselves wrongly accused and are thrust into a desperate fight for survival. Suddenly, these Coney Island outsiders become the most wanted gang in New York.

The Riffs, believing the warriors to be responsible, put out a hit on them through a radio DJ. Now falsely implicated and hunted by every gang in the city, they must fight their way from the Bronx back to their home turf in Coney Island.

During their extremely challenging odyssey, they navigate the street-smart landscape through rival gang territories, narrowly escaping police and other vengeful gangs at every turn.

With a target on their backs, the Warriors must fight their way through a treacherous urban gauntlet, cutting through the heart of Manhattan and Brooklyn to reach their home turf. Their journey becomes a nightlong trial as they dodge cutthroat rival gangs thirsting for retribution. Every subway station, every street corner, and every dark alley poses a potential ambush. The Warriors must summon all their street smarts and combat skills to outmaneuver their pursuers and clear their name, all while the sprawling city seems to conspire against them.

Continue reading “The Warriors 1979 – Waaaarrrrrriiiorsss, come out to pla-i-ay!”

THE PRICE OF DECADENCE AND LIBERATION: Seduction and Isolation: A Dual Journey Through Queens of Evil 1970 and L’Avventura 1960 Part 1

Le Regine 1970 (Queens of Evil) : A Psychedelic Descent into Darkness in 1970’s Euro-Horror

READ PART 2 L’AVVENTURA HERE

SPOILER ALERT:

Seduction and Surrealism: Unraveling Queens of Evil:

Queens of Evil (1970), directed by Tonino Cervi (Today We Live, Tomorrow We Die 1968, Nest of Vipers 1978), is an atmospheric Italian horror film that blends elements of psychedelia, eroticism, and supernatural horror. The film, also known by its Italian title Le Regine, or Il Delitto del diavolo presents a thought-provoking allegory on the clash between counterculture ideals and traditional societal norms that is an infusion of high fashion – psych-folk horror- pastoral fantasy and dreamlike isolation, much like Tam Lin 1970, The Wicker Man 1973 and Psychomania 1973.

The film is part of a niche cinematic sub-genre that blends pastoral fantasy with elements of folk horror, set in the late 1960s to early 1970s. These films juxtapose high fashion with mature fairytale narratives, featuring unconventional behavior and a darkness of spirit, creating a unique atmosphere that merges glamour with nature’s mystique.

The narrative follows a young motorcyclist named David (Ray Lovelock) who encounters three mysterious and seductive women living in a secluded house in the woods. As David becomes entangled in their world, the film explores themes of temptation, freedom, and the darker aspects of human nature.

As part of obscure cult cinema – Cervi’s Queens of Evil (1970) is a beguiling cinematic oddity that makes it hard to define. This dark adult allegory, often categorized as Italian horror, is closer to a gothic fable of dark enchantment. A hypnotic sojourn into a world of counterculture critique, psychedelic imagery, and gothic fairy tale elements; at its core, it presents as a cautionary tale wrapped in the guise of a surreal nightmare, much like Bava’s 1973 fantasy horror – Lisa and the Devil in its broad chimerical brush strokes and its use of vivid hallucinatory illusion rather than a conventional narrative.

Tonino Cervi, a versatile Italian filmmaker who straddled the worlds of directing and producing, left his mark on cinema from the 1960s through the early 2000s. While his directorial efforts like the middling spaghetti western TODAY WE KILL…TOMORROW WE DIE! and the provocative nunsploitation film THE NUN AND THE DEVIL were notable; his true legacy lies in his exceptional work as a producer. He collaborated with some of Italy’s most celebrated directors, including Bernardo Bertolucci on THE GRIM REAPER and Michelangelo Antonioni on RED DESERT, released in 1964, premiering at the Venice Film Festival. He also worked on the landmark anthology BOCCACCIO ’70.

An Italian counterculture gem that will resonate with fans of the surreal and absurd, Queens of Evil is a vibrant and flamboyant film. It offers an enjoyable experience in its own eccentric way as Cervi’s direction blurs the lines between reality and fantasy, guiding viewers through a labyrinth of seductive illusions and hidden dangers.

The film’s hypnotic atmosphere, punctuated by moments of startling beauty and unsettling horror, serves as the connective tissue that binds its disparate elements into a cohesive whole. The surreal, phantasmagorical quality, coupled with its exploration of masculine desires and fears, elevates Queens of Evil beyond mere Euro-exploitation/horror, transforming it into a mesmeric journey through the subconscious. The languid pacing and oblique storytelling may alienate viewers seeking more conventional thrills. However, for those willing to surrender to its peculiar rhythms, its calm before the storm, the film offers a rich synthesis of ideas and images that linger long after the credits roll.

Queens of Evil is a cult classic for a reason. It invites us to rewatch with fresh eyes and sparks conversation, which is what cult films often do best. It manages to deviate from the trend of gothic horror by focusing on a more contemporary setting and themes, finding its place within counterculture cinema. Though the film does blend some aspects of gothic horror, its ruthless psychological gamesmanship elevates Queens of Evil beyond mere psychedelic pastiche and counterculture themes, which sets it apart from the more traditional Italian horror film.

In the context of Italian horror cinema, Queens of Evil emerged during a transitional period in the 1970s as it saw a decline in the pure gothic Italian horror genre, with the industry shifting towards Giallo films and occult-themed movies inspired by international successes like Rosemary’s Baby and The Exorcist.

Italian horror cinema significantly evolved during this period, moving from traditional gothic horror narratives to more contemporary, psychologically complex, and socially relevant themes. This shift reflected the rapid changes in the late 1960s and early 1970s cultural landscape.

The Vietnam War, social unrest, the rise of the counterculture, a lot was happening. People started to question those old systems of power and authority—complex ideas about society, power, and the human condition.

Queens of Evil reflected this transition, blending traditional gothic elements like the eerie villa and isolated setting but retaining a very contemporary look and feel. The film explores the era’s anxieties surrounding the prevalent counterculture and societal upheaval, mirroring the turbulent zeitgeist of its time.

The film draws parallels to fairy tales, with David comparing the house to “Snow White’s house,” setting up a dark fairy tale account. This comparison enhances the symbolic nature of the women as enchantresses or witches.

Along with the essence of an intensely bleak tale, it definitely possesses a duality. Queens of Evil manages to be both beautiful and repulsive. Echoing everything from ancient Greek myths to classic literature and the Bible. The dark hypnotic twist makes this film unique and trippy, as David is supposed to be the symbol of freedom, but then he falls under the Queens’ spell so easily. Maybe those hippie ideals were a little naive.

David represents the young idealists who rebel against the status quo yet remain vulnerable to corruption when his deepest longings are awakened.  Ray Lovelock stars in this enigmatic tale as the lone hippie, David. Lovelock is a charismatic bad boy with a sculpted physique. As David, he is lavished with adoration by the sisters within an idyllic setting until he is ultimately led as a lamb to the slaughter.

The French actress Haydée Politoff during the filming of the movie El gran amor del Conte Dracula’, directed by Javier Aguirre, 1972, Madrid, Spain. (Photo by Gianni Ferrari/Cover/Getty Images).

Among his co-stars are Haydée Politoff, of the Eric Rohmer films THE COLLECTOR (1967) CHLOE IN THE AFTERNOON (1972), and also Count Dracula’s Great Love (1973). His other co-stars are Silvia Monti of A LIZARD IN A WOMAN’S SKIN (1971) and THE FIFTH CORD (1971); and Ida Galli, whose credits include LA DOLCE VITA (1960), HERCULES IN THE HAUNTED WORLD (1961), THE LEOPARD (1963), THE WHIP AND THE BODY (1963), THE PSYCHIC (1977) and many others.

At the heart of the film, Lovelock’s David is a mix of naivety, angelic beauty, and charm. David embodies the ideals of the hippie movement – freedom, non-conformity, and a rejection of materialistic values. His motorcycle journey through the Italian countryside serves as a metaphor for the counterculture’s quest for enlightenment and escape from societal norms. However, David’s idealism is quickly put to the test when he encounters the titular “Queens.”

Imagine David, the story’s doomed protagonist; he’s a free-spirited cruising through the Italian countryside on his motorcycle. It sounds idyllic, but we know there’s a twist coming. Like David in Queens of Evil, riding his steel horse down open roads, it draws a clear parallel to Peter Fonda’s iconic role as Wyatt in Easy Rider (1969). The open road becomes a metaphor for the search for personal freedom and meaning. Both films feature protagonists who embody the late 1960s and early 1970s counterculture ethos, using motorcycles as symbols of their desire for freedom and rebellion against conventional society.

In Easy Rider, Wyatt (Peter Fonda) and Billy (Dennis Hopper) embark on a cross-country motorcycle journey, encountering various aspects of American culture and facing hostility from those who oppose their lifestyle. Similarly, David in Queens of Evil encounters mysterious and potentially dangerous characters during his travels who also oppose what he stands for.

A striking parallel exists between the archetypal narratives of wayward, virile ‘princes’ or studs ensnared within a pastoral paradise and the insatiable, evil Queens (i.e., Ava Gardner in Tam Lin) and seductive sirens who seek to possess them. This clash of archetypes, the untamed masculine spirit versus the ruthless feminine intellect, reflects the deep-seated cultural anxieties and preoccupations surrounding the nature of power, desire, and the fear of women’s primacy in particular, as with Tam Lin, older women’s primacy.

TAM LIN 1970 & BABA YAGA 1973 – Ava Gardner & Carroll Baker: THE FAERIE QUEEN"¦ & VALENTINA'S DREAM: Two Hollywood icons in search of mythology. Part 1

Tam Lin and Queens of Evil feel akin to the psychedelic folkloristic cinema, which captures that brief moment when fashionable trends were turning towards folklore motifs. Films thrive on a strong narrative, and legends are fed by things that are false and things that are true.

From the mythic sirens to folkloric temptresses, male protagonists throughout literary and cultural narratives have repeatedly found themselves ensnared by seductive forces that promise liberation but ultimately threaten destruction.

For example, the Sirens from Greek mythology in Homer’s Odyssey are creatures who lure male sailors to their doom with their enchanting songs. Odysseus had to be tied to his ship’s mast to resist their temptation. The story of Pinocchio features a place called Pleasure Island, where boys are lured with promises of fun and freedom, only to be transformed into donkeys. Some versions of Sleeping Beauty depict the prince being lured into danger by the sleeping princess’s beauty. In certain folklore, creatures like Succubi or some interpretations of vampires specifically target and lure men.

These stories often serve as cautionary tales, warning against the dangers of temptation, curiosity, or naivety. They reflect the consequences of unchecked desires.

Continue reading “THE PRICE OF DECADENCE AND LIBERATION: Seduction and Isolation: A Dual Journey Through Queens of Evil 1970 and L’Avventura 1960 Part 1”

Grease To Grit: The Unforgettable Journey of Adrienne Barbeau -Part 1

READ PART 2 HERE:

From Rizzo to Scream Queen – Adrienne Barbeau’s Candid Memoir There Are Worse Things I Could Do Reveals the Woman Behind the Role of Icon:

I have been a huge fan of Adrienne Barbeau since she appeared on television in the role of Bea Arthur's daughter Carol on the hit 1970s sitcom Maude. Maybe it was her raw authenticity that transcended the TV role; maybe it was her natural sensuality, her sharp jawline, glass-cutting cheekbones, and deep brown eyes. Growing up in the sixties and "˜70s, Adrienne Barbeau’s energy immediately drew me in. I care and recognize the contribution of her work across her long career.

I'm also one of those fans who is still steaming over HBO's cancellation of the dramatic and surreal series, Carnivàle. Adrienne's portrayal of Ruthie was not at all surprisingly captivating and jaw-dropping, watching her channel the grit of a wise and weathered soul who dances with Boa constrictors. Adrienne Barbeau's vivid presence embraced the curiosity of this extraordinary show and its transformative storytelling. And there is nothing more evocative and stirring than the sound of Stevie Wayne's smokey tones over the airwaves of KAB in John Carpenter’s The Fog. She sets the mood for one of cinema’s most haunting visions rolling in from the sea.

All I can say is that I'm beyond excited and extremely grateful to Adrienne Barbeau"”this legendary actress, performer, vocalist, author, and now trapeze artist! for granting me an interview amidst her busy schedule while on location shooting her latest project. She is so incredibly gracious with her time to answer my involved questions and sharing with us her perspective on life and her extensive career.

First of all, I can't urge people enough to read Adrienne Barbeau's memoirs There Are Worse Things I Could Do. She is a richly talented storyteller. Her memoir had reached No. 11 on the Los Angeles Times bestseller list in 2006.

In a cheerful, whimsical way, Adrienne Barbeau narrates her life story not only of her wandering existence as an all-around performer but as a versatile, strong, and self-possessed woman.

Her memoirs are witty and self-effacing; it is a lively, joyous, hilarious, intimate account of this genuine actress's life. She shares her adventures, not only her journey as a talented performer (acting & singing) & writer but also the authenticity and raw honesty with which she relates her funny, at times poignant experiences in the search for self-reflection and self-confidence. She boldly talks about her romantic relationships and her long-lasting friendships, both professional and private, putting a hilarious spin on her intelligent, personal narrative. I devoured the book in just two days, captivated by her vivid anecdotes, and it also offers a fascinating glimpse into the industry.

"Wow!! Adrienne, like Mame, has LIVED!!!! And like Candide, she emerges unscathed, as dear as she was when she began. But what a wild ride!!!" – Bette Midler

"There Are Worse Things I Could Do, says Adrienne Barbeau, but she couldn't do anything better than writing this delightful memoir." – Norman Lear

"I've rarely read a "˜Show Biz' autobiography that made me feel as much affection for the speaker." – George Romero

There is so much to take in, from growing up on a farm in California to life at 15 when she unriddles in the dramatic entries of her journals the depth of her teenage angst, philosophizing, and the deep thoughts of a young dreamer with intellectual wanderlust.

Adrienne Barbeau and cast in the Broadway production of Grease, 1972 photo courtesy of Playbill.

Adrienne reflects on her time in the original Broadway production of Grease as Rizzo, a role that helped launch her career. The book offers candid details about her relationships, the tumultuous romance with Burt Reynolds, and her second marriage to Billy Van Zandt in 1992. The couple divorced in 2018. It also tells the story of having twins when she was 54, giving birth to her sons Walker Steven and William Dalton Van Zandt.

Adrienne Barbeau Avoriaz, le 20 janvier 1980. (Photo by Jean-Louis URLI/Gamma-Rapho via Getty Images)

Adrienne Barbeau recounts with her readers, behind-the-scenes stories from various productions, including The Fog, Escape from New York, her work on Carnivàle, and more, including her working relationship with director and ex-husband John Carpenter that lasted from 1979 to 1984, working with directors George Romero and Wes Craven, and the grueling physical challenges due to budget cuts that forced constant script changes and challenging shooting conditions that she faced during the filming of his sci-fi fantasy Swamp Thing. All three films and HBO’s TV series have attained cult success.

Adrienne Barbeau and Swamp Thing 1982 courtesy of Embassy Pictures.

Adrienne also discusses her voice acting work in animated features like Catwoman in Batman: The Animated Series and shares a few hilarious misadventures, such as filming on location for the low-budget Burial of the Rats 1995 in war-torn Russia.

Adrienne Barbeau also talks about her debut album released in 1997, the self-titled Adrienne Barbeau, showcasing her versatility further. It's a great collection of country, blues, jazz, and pop tunes she performs in her concert appearances across the country. She went on tour, performing in concerts across the West Coast and Vegas.

She rounds out the book by discussing how prolific she’s been with her series of urban fantasy novels, the first of which was Vampyres of Hollywood, published in 2008.

Her official website is here. Her Instagram is here

The Accidental Scream Queen:

“You get typecast in Hollywood,” she said. “I think ‘Maude’ got everyone thinking I could only play comic women’s libbers. So in my TV work after ‘Maude,’ I did only drama. Now maybe ‘The Fog’ will help people think of me as slightly more versatile.”

The fluidity of labels. Labels are not fixed. The mutable nature of professional labels is challenging for actors who seek to redefine their artistic identities. In the dynamic landscape of the entertainment industry, an actor's perceived typecasting is often a transient construct, subject to evolution and redefinition. Actors are capable of transcending initial labels and reshaping industry perceptions. You can be many things all at once. It's what I call the; ‘Art of being many.’

She is considered a horror legend, yet she doesn’t have a strong affinity for the genre. She doesn't like to be scared, so it is ironic that she became a Scream Queen. It's also interesting that she wound up working with horror director royalty, the likes of John Carpenter, George Romero, and Wes Craven.

Adrienne Barbeau with director John Carpenter on the set of The Fog in 1979.

One reason she earned the title: “Also, because I was identified emotionally and socially with John Carpenter and because the first couple of films were "˜horror films.' Then I've got another label started out. (at first) Oh she's a musical comedy girl, then she's a comedienne. – TV wouldn't even see me for drama until I finally cracked that nut. Oh she's a TV actress, oh she's a film actress, oh but it's horror queen.” (interview with Ernie Manhouse 2015)

"I never set out to act in horror films specifically. I wasn't even aware of the genre, really. But I was offered the role of Stevie Wayne in The Fog, and in those days, if you were known for your work on television, you couldn't get hired to do movies. So when The Fog came along, I jumped at the chance. None of us knew, back in 1979, that the film would still be as much loved today as it was then." And as far as the 2005 remake goes? "I haven't seen the remake. Probably never will." (Jesse Striewski in an interview for Rewind It Magazine interview Oct 28, 2021)

Adrienne Barbeau’s career trajectory is a testament to her versatility and resilience in an industry often quick to pigeonhole its talent. She first captivated audiences on Broadway, showcasing her theatrical chops before pivoting to the small screen, where she honed her comedic timing in one of Norman Lear’s crucible sitcom television series – Maude. Because of her fluid ability to adapt – the series catapulted her to prominence as a feminist standard-bearer and "˜sex symbol' in popular culture.

Adrienne – On the set of The Fog in 1979 with director John Carpenter.

"The Fog was my first feature film. And I think in part because I was married to John by that time and in part because The Fog was a horror film or a fantasy or whatever you call it, ghost film that then the label came. Oh, she does genre movies. They didn't even say genre in those days. She does horror movies. She's a Scream Queen. But it hasn't followed me all the way through. I ended up doing comedies Back to School and Cannonball Run and a lot of stuff that god forbid anybody should see. Which I took for various reasons." – (from the Rue Morgue interview)

As she made the leap to cinema and throughout her journey commanding attention on the silver screen, Adrienne Barbeau’s vibrant presence defies simple categorization. Adrienne’s career arc saw her evolve from a feminist icon in television comedy and drama to a captivating film siren and serious actor who embodies sensuality, resilience, and strength always – with apparent ease. Yet, among the myriad roles she’s inhabited, one label has clung to her from her die-hard fans who have fueled her her image with particular tenacity: is that of Scream Queen. Being the symbol of the genre, far from being a limitation, has become a crown she wears with distinction, a lasting emblem that resonates with fans and cements her status in the pantheon of horror cinema.

However, her career is a vibrant legacy of reinvention, proving that an actor’s essence can be simultaneously multifaceted and as well as iconic.

When she arrived in Los Angeles after her Broadway success, she faced the challenge of industry typecasting. Her theatrical background led to her being labeled primarily as a stage actress. Her transition to television with her role in the sitcom Maude at that time further narrowed perceptions of her as she became widely recognized as a comedienne.

This pigeonholing created significant obstacles for Adrienne when she sought artistic growth and expanding talents to embrace dramatic roles. Yet once again, her success in comedy paradoxically became a challenge to overcome, as she tried to be taken more seriously for dramatic parts and not be limited by a perceived lack of range.

"Maybe I was typecast – I had labels put on me right from the beginning because I started as a musical comedy actress on stage on Broadway.”

Adrienne Barbeau proudly welcomes the designation of Scream Queen with pride; though she has openly acknowledged that she has no interest in watching horror films, I do not have a hard time imagining Adrienne Barbeau in a recurring role as an action hero or badass cop brandishing a formidable weapon. Or having her own television show playing a woman cop like Angie Dickincon's Police Woman.

Adrienne has recognized that she’s more geared toward action movies and thrillers, citing an appreciation for the psycho-sexual suspense masterpiece Alan J. Pakula's Klute 1971, which starred Jane Fonda as high-price call girl Bree Daniels.

Adrienne has stated that she believes part of the reason she winds up exploring the horror world is the volume of offers that keep coming her way, in contrast to other genres. These projects have enabled her to play an emotional spectrum and women survivors who wind up being the heroine and not the victim.

“Those are the kinds of roles I’m drawn to and that I tend to play better than the victim, who knows. Although I didn’t start out doing them. I started out on Broadway doing musical comedy. I was the original Rizzo in Grease, and so, that’s a far cry from where I ended up. But because my first feature was The Fog and it was a genre film, I identified with that genre and I love doing them when they’re good, when they’re well written.” (2020 interview with Coming soon.)

Rob Zombie, Malcolm McDowell, and Adrienne Barbeau on the set of his reiteration of Halloween 2007.

While she has an affection for the horror movies she has a relationship with, she turned down a role in Rob Zombie's The Devil's Rejects in 2005, voicing her opinion that it was just "˜too much' for her. Zombie's film has a hyper-violent and grotesque vision for the genre that has evolved through a very anti-philosophical lens. The genre’s evolution in contemporary terms has adjusted the mechanisms that constrain its focusing range on the relentless assault on our senses. There are classical horror films that have successfully balanced psychological terror and raw, visceral impact for the audience. If Adrienne Barbeau didn't like being scared before, she certainly wouldn’t want to be involved with a film that disturbs beyond mere catharthis of our collective fears.

Note: Zombie has cast notable, extremely talented classic actresses in his film The Lords of Salem, the other notable Scream Queens – Meg Foster, Dee Wallace, and Judy Geeson. While the casting coup of having Adrienne sign on to the project might have sweetened the pot for me, I still couldn’t bring myself to watch it.

Adrienne, as Stevie Wayne, warns Antonio Bay about the menacing fog.

Nothing about horror film narratives drew Adrienne to the genre initially. Aside from the horror films she had starred in, Adrienne never watched scary movies, not even Hitchcock's seminal thriller, Psycho, in 1960. So, in a big way, the genre sort of found her.

It wasn't until she starred in The Fog that she was offered these types of films. Adrienne has graciously come to embrace the title and has said that she is incredibly grateful and enjoys doing them when they're well-written. She even incorporated a Scream Queen character – Ovsanna Moore, the 500-year-old vampire. into her novels, showing her appreciation for the title.

Adrienne Barbeau poses on the red carpet at Scarefest in Lexington, Ky. Pablo Alcala 2010.

Even if she's not a horror aficionado herself, Adrienne Barbeau's impact on the horror genre is unmistakable. Her nuanced performances, intelligence, versatility as an actress, willingness to take on challenging roles, and commitment to her characters have established her reputation as one of the most respected and enduring, formidable presences as a Scream Queen in the history of the horror genre.

Adrienne Barbeau as Ruthie, the snake charmer in HBO Carnivàle.

"The characters have gotten older. That’s about it. I’m still attracted to strong women’s roles, sometimes the villain, sometimes the heroine, rarely the victim."

Regardless of whether she sought to attain the honored title or not, Adrienne Barbeau's reputation as a queen of horror is cemented across the cinematic and television landscape, from scholarly discourse to popular culture. There's a diverse array of voices in film scholarship and fandom consensus among a chorus of film critics, historians, journalistic critiques, aficionados, genre enthusiasts, and grassroots horror communities alike – affirm that Adrienne Barbeau fervently ranks high on the level of Scream Queen. Her credentials as horror royalty are unassailable, garnering unanimous recognition from the highlights of pop culture.

Whether by design or chance, Adrienne Barbeau has emerged as a celebrated figure of the realm.

Now that we got that out of the way, let's talk about the "˜art of being’ ‘many' other things.

Continue reading “Grease To Grit: The Unforgettable Journey of Adrienne Barbeau -Part 1”

Unraveling the Knot: Don’t Look Now (1973) A Mesmeric Paradox of Grief in Uncanny Red: Part 1

The basic tenet of horror movies – "˜ Nothing is as it seems "˜ and for me, Don't Look Now is a death of all certainties.

In the early seventies, when even mainstream films could be fearless and experimental, smashing taboos and taunting the censors, it was non-conformists who offered cinemagoing a uniquely intense experience.

 “Don't Look Now 1973 retains its power and mystery today thanks to Roeg's mastery of what Alfred Hitchcock famously called "pure cinema," manifest in his visual sleight of hand and, above all, in his refusal to be bound by the conventions of dialogue-driven narrative and simple chronology. All this has shaped a style that has justifiably come to be described as "Roegian."– (David Thompson: Seeing Red 2015 article CRITERION )

“Nothing is what it seems," says John Baxter, the protagonist of Don't Look Now, at the start of the film. The rest of the movie depicts the tragedy of Baxter's incapacity to apply this fundamental wisdom in his own life. "Nothing is what it seems" may be an untested platitude, but it's a truism when it comes to movies, and Don't Look Now is one of the great "movies-about-movie-watching" ever made. Primarily, it is about the act of perception itself"¦ By seeing an event that has not yet happened as something that is already happening (what-will-be as what-is), he (John) fatally confuses the signs and makes the future the past, i.e., irrevocable, inescapable. Like a movie stamped on celluloid, or the glimpse of the satanic dwarf on the slide Baxter is handling in the opening scene, he fixes something in time, and thereby turns life into death.""” (article – Jasun Horsley Cinephilia and Beyond)

"He was a genius, Nic. A visionary. He made a love scene between a grieving wife and herhusband with no cries of passion, no sounds of orgasm, no words. All you hear is Pino Donaggio's music as Nic intercuts their making love with them getting dressed to go out to dinner. Magical. You don't see that scene as a voyeur. You watch it and it reminds you of yourself, of you being loving and you being loved. We decided it would be wisest not to shoot John's death scene until we'd done everything else, in case the unreliable prop knife failed and my throat would be cut, spilling red. Fragmented, abstract images colour and tell his stories. Look at Omar Sharif on a camel, coming from the other end of the desert towards the camera. That's Nic. Look at the Sahara's empty foreground and suddenly the smokestacks of a steamer crossing from left to right along the unseen Suez canal. That's Nic. He was the was the first to use Panavision's R-200°, which meant he had 15 degrees more shutter for Don't Look Now than the 185°s that were the best before. He was everything I ever wanted from a filmmaker. He changed my life forever. Francine and I asked him if we could name our firstborn after him. He said yes. Our glorious son is named Roeg." -  (Interview – Donald Sutherland)

Continue reading “Unraveling the Knot: Don’t Look Now (1973) A Mesmeric Paradox of Grief in Uncanny Red: Part 1”

Feature & Interview with Iconic Actress, Dancer, and Photographer, Barbara Parkins

The Raven-haired sylph who: "walks in beauty like the night"¦ Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright; Meet in her aspect and her eyes"¦" "” Lord Byron

Barbara Parkins is an icon of the 1960s, appearing in two of the decade's most popular and legendary film and television productions.

Barbara's exquisite beauty is undeniable, but her captivating performances in Peyton Place and Valley of the Dolls truly secured her legacy in Hollywood history and our collective consciousness. As beloved – Betty Anderson in the television series Peyton Place and as Anne Welles in the notorious adaptation of Jacqueline Susann's sensational novel Valley of the Dolls (1967). These memorable roles continue to resonate with audiences today.

But beyond any of it, the glamour, serious drama, pulp fiction, or even the camp, there is an actress who possesses an otherworldly beauty and a depth of character and quality. Not only has she touched our hearts with her performances as these two classic heroines, but she is also one of those recognizable actresses who project strength, confidence, and poise.

Barbara Parkins will undoubtedly be remembered for her portrayal of Betty Anderson Cord in the iconic 1960s prime-time operatic melodrama Peyton Place, which ran from 1964 to 1969.

Based on Grace Metalious's "˜dirty book,' Peyton Place blew the lid off of the hypocritical conformity of small-town America, capturing the complexities of American morality through high drama, showing the dark underbelly of a quaint community of "˜wholesome' families striving for normalcy amid controversial issues. That everything is not safe, it's not always comfortable, and it is without real struggle. And sometimes, life can be downright ugly. Her novel captures the "complexities of human existence"”the dramas, highs and lows, conflicts, and teenage sexuality"”depicting life’s un-romanticized, unvarnished reality. While the book offended some readers, it intrigued others, and despite being a popular show, critics often deem it shocking yet captivating." (The Baltimore Sun 1999 Laurie Kaplan article THE WOMEN OF PEYTON PLACE)

“Barbara Parkins has caught the public's eye, partly because of her beauty, partly because she is a capable little actress. But mostly because she seems to have an inner fire. She's a volcano in a tight dress.'' (From an article BARBARA PARKINS: MOST PROMISING NEWCOMER – Niagra Falls Gazette March, 1965 by Dick Kleiner)

 

Continue reading “Feature & Interview with Iconic Actress, Dancer, and Photographer, Barbara Parkins”

John Carradine “I am a ham!” Part 2

Carradine found himself accepting ludicrous parts in Poverty Row and low-budget chillers to fund his ambitious theatrical productions. By the 1960s, he was degraded by taking on roles just to pay the bills.

He traveled to Africa for Paramount's Tarzan the Magnificent and acted on Rod Serling's The Twilight Zone 1960 episode ‘The Howling Man.’

When David Ellington (H.M Wynant) seeks refuge at a remote monastery where Carradine is the solemn Brother Jerome in a heroic white beard, robes, and staff and the brotherhood stands guard over the devil (Robin Hughes) whom they trapped and locked away. Ellington disregards their warning and unwittingly releases evil upon the earth. This was a more sedate role for Carradine.

On February 8, 1960, he was awarded a Star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at 6240 Hollywood Blvd.

In 1962, he returned to Broadway in Harold Prince's production A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum. He played Marcus Lycus, the scheming whoremaster of a Roman house of ill repute. The show saw 964 performances in New York's Alvin Theatre.

“A Funny Thing Happened On the Way to the Forum” – Zero Mostel, right, is the lead performer in the Broadway musical “A Funny Thing Happened On the Way to the Forum,” along with (left to right:) John Carradine and Jack Gifford.

Carradine also appeared in several television series. Lock Up 1960 – as James Carew in the episode "˜Poker Club.'  He made an appearance in The Rebel 1960 as Elmer Dodson in episodes "˜Johnny Yuma' and "˜The Bequest.'

These were difficult times for Carradine. He wasn't making it financially for all his film and television work. In 1960, he starred in an episode of NBC’s Wagon Train called ‘The Colter Craven Story,’ directed by John Ford.

Considered his favorite experience working in the horror genre – was appearing in Boris Karloff’s superior horror/film noir anthology series Thriller 1961, which ran from 1960 to 1962.

From an interview with KMOX in 1983:

What was your favorite horror film that you did?

“Oh god I don't know. Eh, I don't think I had one. I think it's probably something I did with Boris. I did several for Boris. He had his own series that he introduced as a host and on a couple of them he worked also on as an actor. And I did two or three of those with him and for him. And I think that was the best part of the horror genre that I did.”

What was he like to work with.?

“Oh, charming. He was a charming man. And I first worked with him on the first thing he did in this country. We had a play down in Los Angeles, the old Egan Theater which was a 400-seat theater down on Figueroa street. And we did a play together called Window Panes which he played a brutalized Russian peasant immigrant unlettered. And I did a Russian peasant half-wit and there was a character sort of a Christ-like character who was wanted by the authorities as he was, was a rebel. But the ignorant peasantry took on him almost as a Christ figure and I did that for ten weeks and we moved over to the Vine Street Theater which is now the Huntington Hartford in Hollywood. And Boris played the brutalized Russian peasant and played it to the nines. And we became very good friends then. And that was in 1928. And we remained good friends until he retired and went back to England.”

For Thriller, Carradine was cast as Jason Longfellow and Jed Carta in ‘The Remarkable Mrs. Hawk’ starring Jo Van Fleet and directed by John Brahm, and ‘Masquerade’ starring Elizabeth Montgomery and Tom Poston directed by Herschel Daugherty and blessed with a whimsically macabre score by Mort Stevens.

Carradine as Jason Longfellow with Hal Baylor in Thriller episode ‘The Remarkable Mrs. Hawk’ 1962.

Above are two images from the episode ‘Masquerade.’

For the series, Carradine appeared in two of the most comic and compelling episodes. In ‘The Remarkable Mrs. Hawk’ and ‘Masquerade’ he was both sardonic and sinister.

In Masquerade, airing in 1961, Carradine plays Jed Carta, leader of a depraved family of murderers and cannibals who entraps wayward travelers, stealing their money and butchering them like hogs. When Tom Poston and Elizabeth Montgomery stumble onto the creepy, dilapidated house to get out of a rain storm, Carta greets them with dark glee, trading menacing cracks with Montgomery. What lies beneath the surface might be something more nefarious than the mere suggestion of evil cloaked in black humor that surrounds the Carta family and Carradine's spooky wisecracks. He's magnificently droll, skulking around the dreadful house, with Poston and Montgomery being assailed by disembodied cackling and dimwitted Jack Lambert, who wields a large butcher knife lumbering around. Dorothy Neumann plays the feral Ruthie chained to the wall, spewing animosity for the Carta clan and demonstrating an itchy type of lunacy. It’s both comical and arouses jitters simultaneously. In my opinion, it is one of Carradine's most underrated roles in the horror genre, emphasizing his ability to shuffle both dark humor and horror equally.

Boris Karloff’s Thriller The Remarkable Mrs Hawk: A Modern Re-telling of Homer’s Odyssey, Circean Poison with a Side of Bacon.

In ‘The Remarkable Mrs. Hawk,’ starring Jo Van Fleet as Mrs. Hawk/Circe, Carradine plays Jason Longfellow, an erudite transient who stumbles onto Mrs. Hawk’s true identity and the secret of her ‘Isle of Aiaie Home of the Pampered Pig.’

Cultivated and shrewd, Longfellow is a scheming vagabond who plans to use his revelation about Mrs. Hawk to his advantage"”much to an ironic end.

It's an inspiration for writers Don Sanford and Margaret St. Clair to transform a classical tale from Greek mythology and position it within a southern Gothic rural setting, using a hog farm and a visiting carnival/State Fair that adds a layer of mystique and mayhem. There's a great scene that utilizes theatrical anachronism wonderfully when Cissy Hawk (Van Fleet)  carries the bowl, or "˜Circe's cup' the night she feeds the pigs grapes and proceeds to turn Johnny (Bruce Dern) back into a man for a while. Under the moonlight, she conducts an ancient rite on modern rural farmland as Pete (Hal Baylor) watches in fright and disbelief from his window.

Not only is this particular episode so effective because of Jo Van Fleet’s performance as the modern-day witch, but it’s also due to the presence of the ubiquitous John Carradine, whose facial expressions alone can be so accentuated by his acrobatic facial expressions that make him so uniquely entertaining to watch not to mention listening to his Shakespearean elucidations, hard-bitten insights, and crafty machinations.

Carradine enters the story: A train whistle is blowing in the backdrop. There is a close-up of Jason's (John Carradine's) face. Carradine is the perspicacious  Jason Longfellow, an erudite transient, shabby and unshaven, dressed like a gypsy with white tape holding his black-framed glasses together. Skinny, almost skeleton-like, and lanky. Longfellow’s razor-sharp acumen betrays his urbane sensibilities that travel incognito like a stowaway. He may look like a scraggly bum, but he is a highly educated defector of society. He also enjoys giving his companion Peter grief, waging his intelligence that he uses as a refuge. Pete is a wayward boxer who looks to Longfellow as a mentor. This horror-themed, fable-like episode is overflowing with ironic, comical repose until the baleful scenes leap out at you when Circe wields her powerful magic.

A Pan flute is trebling a child-like tune, a delightful wisp of scales. To the left of the screen are a pair of black & argyle socks with holes worn in the toes, tapping out the melody in the air with his feet. A fire is burning in the trash can. This is a slice-of-the-night mystique of the hobo's life. Carradine, as Jason Longfellow is sitting in a cane back fan rocking chair, a junkyard living room, and a cold tin coffee pot atop an oil drum.

Suspecting their friend Johnny's disappearance is connected to Mrs. Hawk (Jo Van Fleet) and the rumors about her young handymen all gone missing.

"If I knew Johnny's fate, my friend, I'd understand why Mrs. Hawk's farm is designated Caveat Accipitram among the brotherhood." Jason's eyes bulge out of the sockets with glee and rancor.

Carradine manifests an exquisite mixture of the facial expression of a malcontent. Pete seems stupefied –" Hhm?" "Come on.. speak American, would ya?" Jason raises his voice and changes his tone to indicate the hierarchy in their educational backgrounds." Caveat Accipitrum… Caveat Accipitrum   BEWARE THE HAWK"¦." Longfellow ends his little lesson for Pete with emotive punctuation.

He grunts/laughs dismissively, "Oh"¦Hey!" and looks away. He takes a drag of his cigarette with his bone-like fingers, squinting his thoughtful blue eyes (not obscured by the black-and-white film) as if in deep contemplation about the matter. Longfellow was written for Carradine.

Following Thriller, John Carradine made nine guest appearances on the popular The Red Skelton Hour 1961.

Carradine as Major Starbuckle in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance 1962.

Ford found working with Carradine a trial because of his free-spirited style, but he cast him once again, this time joining him in 1962 with The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, starring James Stewart and John Wayne. Carradine played the bombastic Senator Cassius Starbuckle.

Carradine's cameo happens toward the end of the film in a scene at the political convention with him kicking up a fuss "soldier, jurist, and statesmen." he's a mouthpiece for the cattle ranchers opposed to statehood. This would be Carradine's last significant role with director John Ford.

"Offering up a caricatured portrayal of a bombastic Southern blue-blood blowhard, he strikes poses, grandstands, and dishonestly paints his political foe (Stewart) as a killer not fit for government. Without half trying Carradine was capable of exuding just the right sort of seedy grandeur in this pompous scoundrel role; his theatrical oratory enlivens the final reel of a movie. " (Mank)

In 1963, he directed Hamlet at the Gateway Playhouse on Long Island, where he performed the melancholy Dane.

Carradine made appearances on the television series The Lucy Show in 1964 as Professor Guzman in the episode ‘Lucy Goes to Art Class.’

Also in 1964, he appeared with Carroll Baker, Karl Malden, and Richard Widmark, with Carradine playing Major Jeff Blair, a gambler who joins James Stewart in a card game in Ford's western Cheyenne Autumn 1964.

The Wizard of Mars and Curse of the Stone Hand, where he appeared for one minute as part of director Jerry Warren's added footage in order to use Carradine's name in the credits for his movie pieced together from two French dramas creating an incoherent mess.

Throughout the 1960s he worked constantly in Summerstock – appearing in Enter Laughing, Arsenic and Old Lace 1965 and in Oliver as the sly Fagin in 1966.

Carradine in John Ford’s Cheyenne Autumn 1964 starring Carroll Baker.

Carradine with Andrea King in House of the Black Death 1965/71.

in the low-budget House of the Black Death, Carradine had more of a prominent role as Andre Desard, plays the patriarch of a family of Satanists and werewolves, with Lon Chaney, Jr. playing his evil brother Belial who sports a pair of horns and battles over their ancestral home. The film also stars Tom Drake and noir star Andrea King.

1966 saw Carradine cast as a smarmy Dracula once again in the bottom basement horror/western Billy the Kid vs Dracula directed by William "˜one shot' Beaudine, with supportive roles by Virginia Christine and Marjorie Bennett. Carradine is painted as looking like a pasty-faced, maniacal magician with a greasy satanic goatee mustache, widow's peak, frills, cravat, and top hat. Traveling by stagecoach in the Old West, Dracula meets James Underwood on his way to the cattle ranch to see his niece Betty (Melinda Plowman). When the passengers are killed by Indians, he assumes Underhill's identity and seeks out Betty as his next undead bride. Carradine comes under suspicion for a series of unexplained murders. His Dracula sleeps in a bed, not a coffin, and moves around in broad daylight. Whenever Carradine exerts his hypnotic stare, Beaudine uses a colored spotlight that turns his face a bright red, with Dracula dashing in and out of the frame in a badly designed special effect.

"I have worked in a dozen of the greatest, and I have worked in a dozen of the worst. I only regret Billy the kid versus Dracula. Otherwise, I regret nothing"¦ it was a bad film. I don't even remember it. I was absolutely numb."

He had a small role in Munster, Go Home in 1966 for Universal, where he played the oddball butler Cruikshank. On television, he appeared on episodes of Daniel Boone in 1968 and Bonanza in 1969 as Preacher Dillard.

In 1967 he hosted five horror tales as part of Gallery of Horrors – Not to be confused with the superior portmanteau – Amicus' Dr. Terror's House of Horrors. Five short tales of the supernatural introduced by Carradine, who does appear in the first edition as a 17th century Warlock in "˜The Witch's Clock' about a young couple who find a cursed clock that can raise the dead.

‘The Witch’s Clock’ segment of Gallery of Horrors.

Continue reading “John Carradine “I am a ham!” Part 2″

What a Character! 11th Annual Blogathon 2023 Elisha Cook Jr. – Like it says in the newspaper I’m a bad boy

It’s the 11th Annual What a Character! Blogathon. Not only is it my favorite gathering of bloggers paying tribute to actors who deserve our recognition, but it also gives me a reason to dive in and binge their films and television appearances. Thank you, Aurora at Once Upon A Screen, Kellee at Outspoken & Freckled, and Paula at Paula’s Cinema Club  for hosting this year’s wonderful event!

Impish pint-sized, blue-eyed, and baby-faced with a  raspy voice, American character actor Elisha Vanslyck Cook Jr. was born on December 26, either 1903 or 1906 (sources vary) in San Francisco, California.

Cook spent his childhood in Chicago, Illinois, and his first job was selling programs in the theatre lobby. He attended St. Albans College and the Chicago Academy of Dramatic Art, debuting on the stage at age 14, and was an assistant stage manager at age 17. He later traveled with a repertory company as a stage actor, appearing in vaudeville, debuting in the vaudeville act Lightnin.' He worked in stock companies where he got his first big break after Eugene O’Neill cast him in the lead role of his production of Ah, Wilderness on Broadway.

At age 23 Cook debuted on the Broadway stage in 1926 as Joe Bullitt in the musical comedy Hello, Lola. He also appeared as Dick Wilton in Henry Behave 1926, Many a Slip, Hello, Gertie 1926-27, The Kingdom of God 1928-29 – (featuring Ethel Barrymore), and Her Unborn Child 1928  at the Empire Theatre. In 1963 he returned to the stage as “Giuseppe Givola” in “Arturo Ui” on Broadway, written by Bertolt Brecht from The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui. The show featured the music of Jule Styne.

Elisha Cook Jr. then moved to Hollywood where he settled in 1936. He made his film debut revising his stage role as the romantic young lead in the film version of Her Unborn Child 1930 alongside Francis Underwood. "A vividly dramatic all-talker of the Broadway stage hit which rocked the nation with its frankness." After Hollywood spotted the young actor’s fun-sized flair, he would not return to the stage until 1963.

The diminutive actor co-starred in over 220 films and television shows from the 1930s to the 1980s. His film career, including his later television roles, lasted almost 60 years. Cook a flexible actor, played a wide range of characters. ‘Cookie’ as his friends referred to him, was cast in a wide variety of genres starting out in musical comedy, westerns, crime dramas, and most notably film noir and B horror movies.

“Few actors could claim to have played as many memorable roles in as many recognized classics or to have become the answer to so many Hollywood trivia questions,” – Robert Thomas, Jr., in a New York Times obituary.

Continue reading “What a Character! 11th Annual Blogathon 2023 Elisha Cook Jr. – Like it says in the newspaper I’m a bad boy”

The Film Score Freak Recognizes: Jacqueline Susann’s two tawdry tales-

Valley of the Dolls (1967) & Once is Not Enough (1975)

When you think of lurid melodrama you think of the gloriously gaudy, flashy & trashy Jacqueline Susann! I’ve been sort of in the mood to watch my guilty pleasure filled with flaming divas, drugs, tragic love, screaming in an alley and walking away with your head held high! Valley of the Dolls works as an exposé of three aspiring beauties who each in their own way are catapulted to stardom, but ultimately pay a price…

Considered a film to walk away from in shame, it was the Gay community who resurrected this showy gem and delivered it to cult status!

Valley of the Dolls (1967) directed by Mark Robson and stars the enigmatic raven beauty Barbara Parkins (who suggested Warwick to sing the tearjerker of a theme song), Patty Duke whose performance as Neely O’Hara is a tour de force, Sharon Tate whose tragic fate is eerily played out in her role as Jennifer North,  Susan Hayward and the extraordinary Lee Grant. See my interview here:  LEE GRANT INTERVIEW

I can’t help getting that exquisite punch in the gut feeling when Dionne Warwick sings the 1967 theme song by André and Dory Previn, composed for the film version of the Jacqueline Susann best-selling novel.

All I see when I hear the theme song is Anne Welles (who could only have been portrayed by Barbara Parkins who falls down the rabbit hole of ‘dolls’ and crawls back out, empowered!) her face gazing out the window of the train, envisioning a new sense of self and freedom, we’re also transported by the power and poignancy of Dionne Warwick’s immortal voice. “Gotta get off, Gonna get. Have to get off from this ride.”

Next, another guilty pleasure of mine, is Susann’s more obscure little potboiler Once is Not Enough (1975) directed by Guy Green and screenplay by Julius J. Epstein (Casablanca 1942, Arsenic and Old Lace 1942, The Man Who Came to Dinner 1942). This sensationalist slice of cake stars Kirk Douglas, Alexis Smith, David Janssen (that’s all I need to know) George Hamilton, Greek siren Melina Mercouri, Brenda Vaccaro and Deborah Raffin as January. Filled with incestuous overtones, clandestine lesbian trysts, a May/December romance and the ambiguity of love and ownership, Once is Not Enough is like a cheap wine that still tastes pretty good.

The theme song with a melody that hauls my heart over a melancholy  mountain of emotion is written by prolific composer Henry Mancini.  Hearing it now, still gives me that shiver of nostalgia for everything wonderful about 70s overwrought romantic fiction.

January (Raffin) returns home to New York from Europe. She indulges herself in the subculture of the city and winds up falling in love with writer Tom Colt (Janssen) a jaded older man who replaces the love she feels for her father, Kirk Douglas.

Jacqueline Susann’s Valley of the dolls sung by the leading light of pop & soul Dionne Warwick… scored by Andre Previn lyrics by Dory Previn

Jacqueline Susann’s Once is Not Enough score by Henry Mancini

This is your EverLovin’ Joey saying I’m Verklempt at The Last Drive In!

70s Cinema: Runaway Trains, Racing toward oblivion, psycho-sexual machinations and ‘the self loathing whore’ Part 3

Vanishing Point (1971)

It’s the maximum trip… at maximum speed.

Watch carefully because everything happens fast. The chase. The desert. The shack. The girl. The roadblock. The end.

Director Richard C. Sarafian (prolific television series director, The Twilight Zone ep. Living Doll 1963, Fragment of Fear 1970, The Man Who Loved Cat Dancing 1973). With a screenplay by Guillermo Cabrera Infante, a story outlined by Malcolm Hart. Cinematography by John A. Alonzo (Bloody Mama 1970, Harold and Maude 1971, Lady Sings the Blues 1972, Chinatown 1974, Norma Rae 1979). Alonzo offers up a minimalist vision not unlike Steven Spielberg’s first film Duel (1971).

Vanishing Point (1971) conjures an image of Americana with its dusty realism yet the landscape seems to exist on a desolate otherworldly planet.

The Groovin’ soundtrack is a collection of various artists who create the perfect fabric of seventies resonance. The singer/songwriter (of Bread fame) plays the piano with the J. Hovah singers during the revival scene in the desert. Other songs include Mississippi Queen sung by Mountain, Welcome to Nevada by Jerry Reed, Nobody Knows sung by Kim Carnes and So Tired sung by Eve. Carnes’ most notable song is the cult hit, Betty Davis Eyes.

DJ Super Soul: “And there goes the Challenger, being chased by the blue, blue meanies on wheels. The vicious traffic squad cars are after our lone driver, the last American hero, the electric centaur, the, the demi-god, the super driver of the golden west! Two nasty Nazi cars are close behind the beautiful lone driver. The police numbers are gettin’ closer, closer, closer to our soul hero, in his soul mobile, yeah baby! They about to strike. They gonna get him. Smash him. Rape… the last beautiful free soul on this planet.”

… speed means freedom of the soul. The question is not when’s he gonna stop, but who is gonna stop him.”

Vanishing Point stars a very gruff and sexy Barry Newman (The Moving Finger 1963, The Salzburg Connection 1972, Fear is the Key 1972, Petrocelli 1974-76) as Kowalski, dynamic Cleavon Little as blind radio DJ Super Soul, Dean Jagger as the prospector, Paul Koslo as Deputy Charlie Scott, Robert Donner as Deputy Collins, Severn Darden, Karl Swenson, Anthony James as 1st gay hitch-hiker, Arthur Malet as 2nd gay hitch-hiker, Gilda Texter as Nude Rider, and although she was deleted from the U.S. version, Charlotte Rampling as hitch-Hiker.

The film has a beautiful bleak vision and atmosphere of “Dead-already-ness” in the narrative that foreshadows Kowalski’s ultimate destiny. The film doesn’t contribute much essential dialogue, in the way The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (1974) thrives on its repartee. Vanishing Point is fueled by its visual movement.

Vanishing Point seems to reject the sensibilities of a contrived ‘road movie’ that embodies or symbolizes liberation, but in actuality “the road is not ‘open’ but merely a channel through which the vehicle hurtles.” (John Beck)

Vanishing Point is an inauguration of the New Hollywood road/chase movies of the 1970s and one of the most significant cult road movies of the mythic ‘wandering hero’ archetype and ‘the outsider’ roles of that decade. What makes Vanishing Point stand out from other more mainstream Hollywood rebels and road movies is its resistance to embrace the glorification of films boasting the (as writer John Beck puts it) “freedom to drive.”

[Warning: SPOILERS]

Continue reading “70s Cinema: Runaway Trains, Racing toward oblivion, psycho-sexual machinations and ‘the self loathing whore’ Part 3”