Quick Takes on Rhubarb, The Big Brawl, and Hit!

Ray Milland and Rhubarb.

Rhubarb (1951). This occasionally diverting comedy concerns a wealthy eccentric (Gene Lockhart) who leaves his fortune to a feisty alley cat instead of his spoiled daughter. She is miffed, to say the least, and so is the old man's baseball team, a group of superstitious losers who believe it's unlucky to be owned by a cat. Although its outstays its welcome and wastes the talent of Ray Milland, this silly effort still contains some inspired lunacy (e.g., a court case to determine if Rhubarb is an imposter). It's also notable as one of the first films to satirize television commercials. The supporting players include Strother Martin, Alice Pearce (the original Mrs. Kravitz on Bewitched), someone who looks like Leonard Nimoy, and a photogenic kitty with more star quality than Morris. For a better Ray Milland baseball comedy, check out It Happens Every Spring (1949).

Jackie Chan gets ready!

The Big Brawl (1980). This was Fred Weintraub's and Robert Clouse's second attempt to repeat the success of their 1973 martial arts smash Enter the Dragon. And though it's better than their first effort, Black Belt Jones with Jim Kelly, it's still an uneven mixture of broad kung fu comedy and Depression-era gangster drama. The plot, loosely borrowed from the 1975 Charles Bronson film Hard Times, is about a bare-knuckle fight staged by rival gangland bosses (Jose Ferrer and Ron Max). Perennial loser Ferrer blackmails martial artist Jackie Chan into being his fighter at an unofficial national competition (hence, the film's title). The affable Chan provides plenty of comedy as well as some amazing acrobatic feats. However, at that point in his career, Chan lacked Lee's intensity. Also, director Clouse never gives him an opportunity to display his skills against a fellow martial artist. Mako, who plays Uncle Herbert, comes off best, spouting lines such as: "Sometimes, you make me tremble--with disgust"). Fortunately, Jackie Chan eventually found the right vehicle to reintroduce him to mainstream American audiences: 1995's Rumble in the Bronx.

Billy Dee Williams looks cool!

Hit! (1973). When his teenaged daughter suffers a drug-related death, a government agent (Billy Dee Williams) goes to Marseilles in search of the drug dealers responsible. This brutal revenge tale, obviously influenced by The French Connection (1971), was made at the peak of the "Blaxploitation" film era. These modestly-budgeted movies cast Black stars in violent action films such as Slaughter, Black Caesar, Coffy, and Superfly. This was one of the better efforts, though the film's slow-moving second half and uninspired ending take the edge off a promising premise. A typical 1970s anti-hero, Williams' revenge-minded father resorts to blackmailing prostitutes and killers in order to exact his wrath. Displaying no signs of his future stardom, Richard Pryor has a supporting role as one of Williams' allies (however, it you watch the film on TV, you may miss half of his profanity-filled dialogue). Hit! is sometimes confused with another Blaxploitation film made a year earlier: Hit Man, which stars Bernie Casey. That film is a respectable remake of Get Carter (1971).

Black Belt Jones Lacks Punch, Needs More Kicks

The popularity of Blaxploitation films had already begun to wane by 1974, just three brief years after Shaft made a box office splash. The genre needed a kick and producer Fred Weintraub hoped to provide that--literally--with his urban martial arts film Black Belt Jones. Weintraub and director Robert Clouse were responsible for the previous year's international hit Enter the Dragon, which sealed Bruce Lee's superstardom. Their idea to blend Blaxploitation and kung fu must have seemed like a natural fusion. To ensure a smooth transition, they cast American African karate champion Jim Kelly, who appeared in Enter the Dragon, in Black Belt Jones.

Kelly plays the title character, a streetwise kung fu master, who comes to the aid of his mentor Pop Byrd (Scatman Crothers). Pop's inner city Black Bird Karate School has attracted the attention of a local Mafioso with inside knowledge of the real estate's future value. When Pop refuses to sell, Don Steffano sends some thugs (led by Pinky...nice name!) over to rough him up. During the fight, Pop has a heart attack and dies. Belt Belt is determined to avenge Pop, save the school, and help out the Feds--with some unexpected help from Pop's black black belt daughter Sydney (Gloria Hendry).

Kelly in fight mode as Black Belt Jones.

There are numerous excellent action films--Enter the Dragon and Where Eagles Dare spring to mind--that cast credibility aside. If the action scenes are well-staged and frequent enough, the viewer won't have time to dwell on plot flaws. It helps, too, if the performers are charismatic. Unfortunately, Black Belt Jones falls flat in these areas. The title sequence, consisting of freeze frames that interrupt Kelly's swift punches and powerful kicks, is indicative of the film's problems. It robs a potentially exciting fight scene of its speed and rhythm. As the film progresses, the pacing problem worsens and the more time we have to dwell on its plot, the more incredulous Black Belt Jones becomes. A toupeed Scatman Crothers as a kung fu master?

With John Saxon in Enter the Dragon.

Kelly was fine as a supporting player in Enter the Dragon (especially considering he was a last minute replacement for Rockne Tarrington). It helped, of course, that the screenwriters gave him many of the film's memorable quips ("Man, you're right out of a comic book!"). Also, if you add up his screen time, Kelly wasn't in much of Enter the Dragon, which was designed as a star vehicle for Lee. In Black Belt Jones, Kelly is expected to carry much of the load. He manages well in the fight scenes (though, even there, his martial arts style is not as fluidly cinematic as Lee's). In his "acting" scenes, he tries to exude cool--though his cool quotient  is relatively low compared to charismatic actors such as Richard Roundtree in Shaft.

Surprisingly, Black Belt Jones has its admirers, which I attribute to its karate scenes and camp factor. I suppose one could argue that it was always intended as camp, making my criticisms pointless. My belief is Weintraub and Clouse wanted to make a mindless genre film mixing action and humor. Achieving that right amount of balance (as Jackie Chan did in many of his films) can be challenging and that's where Black Belt Jones fails for me. Still, it did well enough at the box office to garner a sequel, 1976's Hot Potato, which sends Black Belt to an Asian country to rescue a senator's daughter.

Kelly worked steadily throughout the late 1970s and early 1980s, with lead roles in films like Black Samurai. He also appeared in three films with Jim Brown and Fred Williamson: Three the Hard Way; the unusual Blaxploitation-Spaghetti Western Take a Hard Ride; and One Down, Two to Go (also with Richard Roundtree). Except for occasional film appearances, he retired from acting in 1982. He subsequently became a professional tennis player and appeared on the USTA Senior Men's Circuit.

It doesn't even look like a
Jackie Chan movie.

Filmmakers Fred Weintraub and Robert Clouse continued to make occasional martial arts films with splashes of humor. They introduced Jackie Chan to American audiences with The Big Brawl in 1980. Unfortunately, it veered too much from Jackie's natural persona and never found an audience. Jackie Chan wouldn't hit it big in the U.S. until 15 years later when Rumble in the Bronx became a sleeper hit.

Foxy Brown: "She's a whole lotta woman!"

Pam Grier as Foxy Brown.

Coffy or Foxy Brown? I've been debating which Pam Grier movie to review this month (I quickly ruled out less stellar efforts like Sheba, Baby). I finally concluded that Coffy may be the better-made film, but Foxy Brown has had a greater impact on pop culture. After all, Quentin Tarantino renamed the title charactor in Jackie Brown as a tribute to Foxy. Pam Grier titled her autobiography Foxy: A Life in Three Acts. Foxy Brown has been referenced in everything from the TV show Bones (with Pam as a guest star) to an Austin Powers movie to a rapper who changed her name to...Foxy Brown.

Foxy again? No, this is
Pam as Coffy.

So who is Foxy Brown? Well, it's not clear from the 1974 film--perhaps because it was originally intended as a Coffy sequel called Burn, Coffy, Burn! (which makes no sense...because who likes burned coffee?). However, American-International Pictures decided against a Coffy follow-up at the last minute, leaving little time to revamp the screenplay. As a result, while we knew Coffy was a nurse, Foxy's occupation is never mentioned. (She earns a sizable income through some means, though, judging from her extensive, flashy wardrobe).

The film's plot hinges around the two men in her life: her inept, drug-dealing brother Link and her boyfriend, Michael, a former undercover narc who just had plastic surgery so he and Foxy can lead a normal life together. Drug dealer and narc--yes, Foxy's life is filled with irony.

Link owes $20,000 to Miss Katherine (Kathryn Loder), who operates a successful drug and prostitution business with assistance from her stylishly-dressed boyfriend Steve (Peter Brown from Ride the Wild Surf). Foxy rescues Link from Miss Katherine's thugs and lets him hide out in her house. At this point, I started to question Foxy's judgment.

Meanwhile, Michael gets released from the hospital. When he shows up at Foxy's house, Link thinks Michael looks familiar. Later, Link spots a newspaper clipping with a pre-plastic surgery photo of Michael (one has to wonder why Foxy left it out with her brother in the house). Somehow, Link--who is none too bright--figures out Michael's identity and sells that info to Miss Katherine for the $20,000 he owes. Then, Link tells his girlfriend that he's staying at Foxy's home. The thugs find out Michael's location from Link's girl and promptly gun down the former narcotics agent. When Foxy learns of Michael's demise, she barely sheds a tear before swearing to bring down those who killed him.

While one could say there's not a lot of logic in director Jack Hill's script, I could argue that there are indeed stupid people in the world. My only issue is with the plastic surgeon. If Link could recognize Michael's new face that quickly, then that plastic surgeon should have been sued for malpractice and barred from his profession. (Of course, who could sue him? His patient was dead.)

There's a gun in that Afro! Really.

The fact that Foxy Brown succeeds as solid entertainment, despite its narrative deficiencies, can be attributed wholly to Pam Grier. She dominates every scene she's in, whether she's modeling a form-fitting evening gown, pulling a gun out of her Afro after being frisked, or pummeling people that get in her way. In one of my favorite scenes, she confronts an angry lesbian bar patron trying to hit on a female friend:

Woman: Listen, skinny, before you start talking tough, I'd better warn you I have a black belt in karate. So why don't you get out of here quietly while you still got some teeth left in that ugly face?

Foxy: (knocking down a bar stool) And I've got my black belt in bar stools!

It's worthwhile to mention that Foxy Brown was one of the action films with a female hero and villain (though I wish Miss Katherine would have been a stronger character). Yet, despite all the female empowerment, there's a scene in which a captured Foxy gets victimized by two bad guys. If the intent was to add further motivation for Foxy's extreme actions at the climax, I don't buy it. Her grief over Michael's murder (which could been emphasized more) should have been adequate grounds for her actions.

Foxy Brown is a flawed film, to be sure, but an important one for its star, the promotion of strong female characters, and the Blaxploitation genre. It also created one of the great characters of the 1970s. As Link explains to his girlfriend after Foxy roughs him up: "That's my sister, baby. And she's a whole lotta woman!"

As James Brown Sings: It's Hard to be the Boss in "Black Caesar"

Versatile directors always intrigue me. Michael Curtiz excelled at contemporary drama (Casablanca), costume adventures (The Adventures of Robin Hood), and musicals (White Christmas). Robert Wise gave us The Day the Earth Stood Still, West Side Story, and The Haunting. This prelude brings us to Larry Cohen, the creative force behind It's Alive, The Private Files of J. Edgar Hoover, Phone Booth (writer only)...and Black Caesar. A low-budget auteur, Cohen proved adept at injecting a fresh point of view into traditional genres. Black Caesar, his Blaxploitation riff on the 1930s gangster film, is a perfect example--and a surprisingly well-made film.

Fred Williamson as Tommy Gibbs.

Loosely based on the Edward G. Robinson classic Little Caesar (1931), Black Caesar chronicles the rise of Tommy Gibbs (Fred Williamson) from teenage hoodlum to Mafia-backed kingpin. Gibbs' story begins in the mid-1960s with a run-in with a crooked cop. That experience lands Gibbs in prison, but provides him with knowledge that he'll exploit years later--when he steals account ledgers incriminating powerful men in New York City.

On release from prison, Gibbs assassinates a Mafia target for "free" to gain an introduction to Cardoza, a local mob leader. Gibbs convinces Cardoza to let run him run a small unprofitable neighborhood in Harlem--which Gibbs quickly transforms into a money-making empire. From there, the nouveau gangster expands his business to the West Coast and sets his sites on replacing Cardoza. Concurrently, the Mafia and the city's crooked district attorney begin to realize that Gibbs is a threat that must be eliminated.

There's nothing new about the plot to Black Caesar. However, Cohen freshens it by creating a three-dimensional anti-hero and infusing interesting touches throughout the film. There is no doubt that Gibbs is a ruthless killer, but he greatly values friends and family. He takes his marriage vows seriously, staying faithful to his wife (at least, until after she cheats on him). I found that to be a refreshing change from many movie gangsters who think nothing of keeping a mistress while posing as a caring husband and father. Furthermore, Gibbs' love of his wife and best friend causes him to spare their lives when he learns that the rumors of their affair are true. Gibbs realizes his decision will cause him to lose face, but he weighs the alternatives and allows his genuine affection for the two to drive his actions.

Of course, a well-written character means nothing without the right actor to inhabit the role. For me, the biggest surprise in Black Caesar is the excellent performance by Fred Williamson. A former football player for the Oakland Raiders and Kansas City Chiefs, Williamson had only appeared in four movies and an episode of the TV series M*A*S*H. Yet, he captures the swagger, intensity, and anger that propel his character. He makes sure we know Gibbs isn't interested in just making money--he wants to be at the top of the world looking down at the people that looked down on him as a youth. In Williamson's best scene, Gibbs informs his mother that he has bought her the high-rise apartment where she works as a maid. He's totally unprepared for her less-than-enthusiastic reaction and his face changes from joy to disappointment to repressed anger in a matter of seconds.

The James Brown soundtrack.

Cohen gives Black Caesar a smooth urban feel by visually capturing life on the streets. Theater marquees, pawn shops, and street people seem to inhabit every frame. (As a result, the film goes flat when it shifts briefly to the West Coast scenes.) James Brown's funk-driven soundtrack--especially his song "The Boss"--contributes significantly to the hip vibe.

When Black Caesar chalked up solid box office numbers in 1973, American International Pictures pushed Cohen to make a sequel. The challenge was that Cohen had begun work on his horror thriller It's Alive and Williamson was making That Man Bolt. Still, the ever-innovative Cohen shot footage on weekends and used a stand-in for Williamson where possible. The result was Hell Up in Harlem (also 1973), a follow-up that starts with the final five minutes of Black Caesar. It lacks the spark of the original, but Williamson is still good as Gibbs. Cohen rejected James Brown's sequel soundtrack and hired Edwin Starr, best known for his hit song "War." Starr's score, like Hell Up in Harlem as a whole, is perfunctory at best.

Williamson at age 74.

Almost four decades after their collaborations, Cohen and Williamson remain active in the entertainment industry. In 2009, Cohen wrote the Canadian thriller Messages Deleted and Williamson appeared in Zombie Apocalypse: Redemption. And just this evening, I saw Fred Williamson in a TV spot for the Wounded Warriors Project. Apparently, it's true...old (movie) gangsters never die.

Blaxploitation Films: An Overview of the African American Urban Action Genre of the 1970s

Richard Roundtree as Shaft.

The term “Blaxploitation" was coined in the early 1970s to describe a genre of low-budget, action pictures that featured mostly American African actors and typically played in urban neighborhood theaters.  Some critics considered these movies offensive, charging that their African Americans protagonists were poorly-developed stereotypes. Indeed, Blaxplotation "heroes" were often private eyes, gangsters, and drug dealers that were violent, sexually insatiable, and defiant of authority. Those traits were certainly nothing new in 1970s cinema--Dirty Harry's Inspector Callahan was more violent than the private eye hero in Shaft and James Bond was more promiscuous. What made Shaft unique was that its protagonist was a black man and--at a time when the only African American movie star was Sidney Poitier--that was a game-changer.

The mainstream success of Blaxploitation pictures like Cotton Comes to Harlem (1970) and Shaft (1971) spawned dozens of urban action films from 1971 to 1976. Richard Roundtree, who exuded cool as John Shaft in three films, became the genre's first star, but others quickly followed: former football player Fred Williamson; feisty Pam Grier; and, to a lesser degree, Tamara Dobson (Cleopatra Jones), karate champion Jim Kelly (Black Belt Jones), and Bernie Casey (Hit Man).

The majority of Blaxploitation films were aimed to simply entertain. They were, after all, "exploitation films," defined in The Film Encyclopedia as movies "made with little or no attention to quality or artistic merit but with an eye to a quick profit, usually via high-pressure sales and promotion techniques emphasizing some sensational aspect of the product." Still, the Blaxploitation genre made a lasting impact on the film industry by spotlighting African American actors, indirectly promoting female empowerment, and producing memorable film soundtracks.  

Williamson in Black Caesar.

Actors like Richard Pryor, Godfrey Cambridge, and William Marshall had established solid credentials in the entertainment industry well before the start of Blaxploitation films. However, their careers got a substantial boost when they landed starring roles in The Mack (Pryor), Cotton Comes to Harlem (Cambridge), and Blacula (Marshall). Jim Brown was already a leading man, but the box office hits Slaughter, Black Gunn, and Three the Hard Way made him a bona fide genre superstar. And, as mentioned earlier, the Blaxploitation genre created its own stars in Richard Roundtree, Fred Williamson, Bernie Casey, and Pam Grier--all of whom went on to long careers in film and television.

Pam Grier as Foxy Brown.

Quentin Tarantino has suggested that Pam Grier was Hollywood's first female action star. It's hard to disagree, given her body of work in action films like Coffy, Foxy Brown, and Friday Foster. Combining toughness, sexuality, and female empowerment, Grier dominated the male characters in her films. Even when she became their victim briefly, as in Foxy Brown, she retaliated with a vengeance.

When The Washington Times compiled a list of the Top 10 Female Action Stars earlier this year, Pam Grier ranked #9. Except for Linda Hamilton in Terminator (1991) and Sigourney Weaver in Alien (1979), every other actress listed is from a film made in 2001 or later. Thus, Grier was breaking ground for female action stars that wouldn't be plowed for two more decades--an impressive achievement.

Blaxploitation films also broke ground with urban soundtracks composed by well-known musicians such as Isaac Hayes, Curtis Mayfield, and James Brown. Hayes scored a No. 1 Billboard hit with "Theme from Shaft," which also earned an Academy Award for Best Song. His Shaft soundtrack was so popular that Hayes was cast in the lead role in his own Blaxploitation film, Truck Turner (he also composed its soundtrack). Still, music critics generally regard Curtis Mayfield's Superfly soundtrack as the best for a Blaxploitation film. In fact, the success of Mayfield's No. 4 single, "Freddie's Dead"--which was released before Superfly--may have contributed to the film's success. James Brown's soundtrack for Black Caesar is considered one of his strongest albums.

William Marshall in Blacula.

Speaking of Black Caesar, it's one of several Blaxploitation films with interesting origins. Writer-director Larry Cohen (It's Alive) based Black Caesar  loosely on the 1931 gangster film Little Caesar. The 1972 film Hit Man was a remake of the Michael Caine thriller Get Carter. Black Mama, White Mama appears to be a loose remake of The Defiant Ones. The mainstream success of Blacula (which featured a fine lead performance from William Marshall) spawned other horror films: Blackenstein; Dr. Black, Mr. Hyde; Sugar Hill (about zombies); and the sequel Scream, Blacula, Scream.

This month, the Classic Film & TV Cafe pays homage to the Blaxploitation films--the African American urban action films of the 1970s. Yes, they were violent exploitation films and lasted for just a few years. Yet, they remain an important part of American cinema history and warrant a closer look.