The Best Movies You May Have Never Seen (Oct 2015)

Never Take Candy from a Stranger (1960)  (reviewed by Toto from the Classic Film & TV Cafe)

In the opening scene, two little girls are playing on a swing in the woods, laughing and enjoying a lovely afternoon. Then we see they are being watched by an old man with binoculars in a nearby isolated house. One little girl tells the other that she knows where they can go to get candy. As the two girls skip off together in the left side of the screen, we see that the abandoned swing dominates the foreground on the right side--a sign of leaving childhood behind.

Jean (Janina Faye) and Lucille (Frances Green) leave childhood behind.

That night, Jean Carter, one of the girls, tells her parents about her day and innocently reveals that she and her friend danced without their clothes on for the old man. Her horrified parents mask their emotions and the mother questions her daughter. The parents conclude that she wasn't molested, but they know that some kind of action must be taken.

Janina Faye as nine-year-old Jean.

There are two prevailing themes in Never Take Candy from a Stranger. The first is the threat of losing childhood innocence, which is symbolically represented in the film by the empty swing, an abandoned bicycle, and a stuffed animal. The second theme is societal isolation. Early in the film, we learn that the Carter family has moved from England to a small industrial Canadian town so Peter Carter can become the principal of a school. The town's residents refer to the Carters as foreigners more than once. Initially it seems to be in jest, but it quickly becomes clear that there are some townspeople who resent the "trouble" caused by "the outsiders."

Niall MacGinnis questions the witness.

It doesn't help that the prosperity of the town centers around a mill owned by the Olderberry family. The retired family patriarch turns out to be the old man that the Carters accuse of improper conduct toward their daughter. The eventual trial places young Jean on the witness stand, with the Olderberry's attorney (effectively played by Niall MacGinnis) questioning her aggressively, his face jutting toward her on one side of the screen and then the other.

With a first-rate cast, a literate script, and excellent direction from Cyril Frankel, Never Take Candy from a Stranger should have garnered stellar notices. Instead, it was panned by critics and ignored at the boxoffice. Undoubtedly, the title didn't help (neither does the original British title Never Take Sweets from a Stranger). I also suspect that moviegoers expected a more conventional tale of horror from Hammer Films, the home of Dracula and Frankenstein.

This one includes a truly horrifying scene near the climax as the two girls are chased in the woods and find a rowboat. They climb into it, thinking they are leaving danger behind...when they realize the boat is still tethered to the dock. Their pursuer then grabs the rope and begins to pull them in.

Without ever showing violence, Never Take Candy from a Stranger ranks as one of Hammer's most frightening films, right down to its somber conclusion.

“X” The Man With The X-Ray Eyes   (reviewed by Grand Old Movies)

Roger Corman’s unsung 1963 masterpiece, “X” The Man With The X-Ray Eyes, is a film examining cinema’s very essence—the act of seeing. As movies capture the world in visual terms, we thus experience movies as visual objects, viewed through our faculty of sight. Corman thrusts that notion right at us from his film’s first shot, a giant eyeball staring at us as we in turn stare back at it. This is how we understand what’s before us, the film seems to be saying, through our own fleshy orbs—the only pair each of us has, as one character notes. Eyes are our primary organ for taking in the world around us, and we’d better be damn careful how we use them.

Except that the film’s protagonist, Dr. James Xavier, has lost all caution in regards to his own. A medical researcher experimenting with increasing the range of vision, he’s developed a drug to expand the eyes’ ability to see light, and becomes his own guinea pig. A colleague warns him that “only the gods see everything”; “I’m closing in on the gods,” Xavier replies, and indeed he does. From seeing through paper, clothes, and then walls, he then sees through flesh (including his eyelids) and bone, into interior organs, able to diagnose disease and even impending death. But Xavier gets hooked on his drug and applies it more and more; the result, far from achieving heaven, plunges him into hell. He no longer recognizes a human being, but only “a perfect breathing dissection”; an urban metropolis appears “dissolved in an acid of light—a city of the dead.” The more Xavier sees, the more the world loses substance, evaporating into particles and atoms, into wavering light itself. He now gropes like a blind man, longing for only one thing—to again “have the dark.”

As with Xavier’s vision, Corman’s film looks beneath its low-budget, sci-fi surface, and finds mythic resonances in its anti-hero’s quest. Is Xavier a doomed Prometheus, enduring torture to bring fire to humanity, or a disobedient Adam, defying divine law in seeking knowledge? But in its hallucinatory effects and theme of expanded vision, the film also anticipates how the Sixties generation pursued mystical experience via drugs and esoteric religions. While working as a sideshow attraction Xavier masks himself with a bandanna decorated with a large, open Eye, a reference to the “third eye” that signals inner perception, beyond mere physical sight. Xavier’s irony, however, is that the more he sees, the less he knows; people, places, the world itself, have slipped away from him, leaving him in a spiritual abyss.

Yet the film’s overarching viewpoint is seemingly Biblical, especially in the famous final scene, in which Xavier staggers into a revival meeting and hears the preacher exhorting his flock to repent. Instead, Xavier proclaims his own apocalyptic vision: beyond “there are great darknesses,” he cries, but at the center he can see “the Eye that sees us all.” Has Xavier’s sight finally reached God? No answer is given; rather, the appalled reverend responds with Matthew’s advice to the lagging sinner: “And if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out!” And so Xavier does, raising two bloodied sockets to our own appalled gazes. The screen swiftly goes black; then light gradually returns—or rather, waves and lines of light, through which skeletal impressions of buildings and landscapes bleed through, as if the camera now participates in Xavier’s torment, its mechanical eye imprinted with his human ones. It’s a vision of unending horror: of knowledge that can’t be unlearned, and of eyes that can’t be closed.

The Fearless Vampire Killers (1967)   (reviewed by Rick from the Classic Film & TV Cafe)

Sharon Tate as Sarah.

Whether intentional or not, The Fearless Vampire Killers comes across as a perfect parody of Hammer Films’ fangs-and-damsels formula. One’s affection for the film will depend, in part, upon familiarity with the Hammer approach. All the expected ingredients are present: attractive women in low-cut attire, a Transylvanian setting, an eerie castle, garlic hanging from the ceiling of a beer haus, a hint of eroticism, and a well-prepared vampire hunter. To this mix, Polanski adds a dash of the unexpected: a bumbling lovestruck assistant, a Jewish vampire, a gay vampire, and a darkly humorous ending.

The vampire killers of the title are Professor Abronsius (Jack MacGowran, looking like Albert Einstein with a big red nose) and his assistant Alfred (Polanski). Shortly after their arrival at a snowy Bavarian inn, a young maiden named Sarah (Sharon Tate) is kidnapped by Count Von Krolock (Ferdy Mayne). The girl’s father sets out after his daughter, but later turns up dead—the blood drained from his body. Knowing now that vampires are at work, the Professor and Alfred head toward Von Krolock’s castle to destroy the bloodsuckers.

Polanski, who had not yet directed Rosemary’s Baby, shows a genuine flair for the horror genre. There’s a masterful scene in which Sarah is taking a bath, while Von Krolock watches her through a skylight. Snow begins to float into the bath water. As Sarah looks up, the vampire crashes through the glass and bites her neck. Bath water splashes against the door suggestively and then stops. Later in the film, Polanksi stages a ghoulish scene in which vampires emerge from graves in a cemetery, still wearing their rotting clothes, as they make their way to the Midnight Ball.

Alfred tries to destroy a vampire!

As an actor, Polanksi proves himself to be a skilled comedian. He and Tate share a funny scene in which she talks about the joys of taking a bath which he misconstrues as a proposition (“Do you mind if I have a quick one?” she asks). The supporting cast has its share of comic highlights, too, especially Alfie Bass as a new vampire who wants to keep his coffin in the Krolocks’ vault (and not in the drafty barn!).

Originally, Polanski planned to cast Jill St. John as Sarah, but a producer friend introduced him to the stunning, red-haired Tate. The two were married soon after The Fearless Vampire Killers. Tate’s career was on the rise (she co-starred in the trashy but popular Valley of the Dolls) when Charles Manson and his cult murdered her in 1969.

Released as Dance of the Vampires in Britain, The Fearless Vampire Killers was trimmed nine minutes for its U.S. release. The video version is the full 107-minute film. The famous subtitle Or, Pardon Me, But Your Teeth Are in My Neck never actually appears in the film credits. (For a more in-depth review of this film by Cafe contributor Sark, click here.)

The 5 Best Movies to Watch on a Snowy Day

Yesterday, I listed what I consider the five best movies to watch on a summer day. In case that left you with some perspiration on your brow, chill out and check out my picks below for the five best movies to watch on a snowy day:

1. The Thing – Either the 1951 original or the 1982 remake will do nicely, though—over time—I’ve come to prefer the John Carpenter version. It plays out like a scarier, gorier variation of Agatha Christie’s Ten Little Indians set in sub-zero temperatures in an Arctic research station. The nifty twist here is that the “killer” can move from one person to another, which makes identifying it rather difficult. It’s a real chiller—in more ways than one.

Alfred assists Professor Abronsius.

2. The Fearless Vampire Killers – Roman Polanski’s delightful mix of comedy and horror has all the ingredients of a traditional horror film: a snowy Transylvanian setting, attractive women in low-cut attire, a Gothic castle, garlic hanging from the ceiling of a tavern, and a well-prepared vampire hunter. To this mix, Polanski adds a dash of the unexpected: a bumbling lovestruck assistant, a Jewish vampire, a gay vampire, and a darkly humorous ending.

3. Where Eagles Dare – Set in the white-covered mountains of Austria, Where Eagles Dare sends seven special forces soldiers to rescue a U.S. general being held captive by the Nazis. But this is no routine mission: the soldiers must break into an impregnable mountaintop castle, there appears to be a traitor among them, and their squad leader seems to trust no one—except Mary, the blonde agent hiding in the barn. Who would have thought that Richard Burton and Clint Eastwood would’ve made such a good team?

4. Ten Little Indians – Most film buffs prefer the earlier version of Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None…but it didn’t trap the murder suspects with the killer in a chateau atop a snowy mountain. Yes, there are distractions, including the dreadful theme music and an over-the-top performance by then-popular singer Fabian (at least, his screen time is brief). On the plus side, the rest of the cast—including Shirley Eaton and Wilfred Hyde-White—does a fine job. Plus, there’s a “murder minute” at the climax, in which an onscreen clock counts down from 60 seconds as key clues are shown again.

5. On Her Majesty’s Secret Service – This 007 film might rate higher, except that it’s only partially set in Blofeld’s mountaintop fortress. Yes, fans quibbles about George Lazenby’s performance as Bond (personally, I think he’s decent), but OHMSS boasts a spectacular setting, the marvelous Diana Rigg, and the first of many thrilling James Bond ski chases.

Honorable mentions: the Eli Wallach-Robert Culp sci fi film A Cold Night’s Death; Rock Hudson as a sub commander headed to Ice Station Zebra; and the documentary Conquest of Everest.

What would be on your best list for movies to watch on a snowy day?

My 100 Favorite Films: From 60 to 51

After five months, we reach the halfway point of my countdown of personal favorite films. If you're reading this series of posts for the first time, allow me to clarify that these are not what I'd consider the best 100 movies ever made (though some of them are). These films are simply one classic fan's faves. (An underlined title means there's a hyperlink to a full review at the Cafe.)

60. The Solid Gold Cadillac – Judy Holliday is sublime as Laura Partridge, a (very) minority stockholder in a major corporation who keeps questioning the company’s crooked board members during its public meetings. To keep her from badgering them, the board members hire Miss Partridge as their Director of Shareholder Relations—a “do nothing” job until she decides to make something of it. This delightful comedy teams Holliday with Paul Douglas, whose warmth is a perfect complement to her bubbly persona. Fans of Born Yesterday may disagree, but I think the underrated Solid Gold Cadillac is easily Holliday’s finest film.

59. O Lucky Man! – A lengthy tale of a young ambitious man seeking meaning in life, this Lindsay Anderson film is an acquired taste. I think it’s an underappreciated one-of-a-kind gem mixing sharp satire, impeccable performances, and an awesome score by Alan Price (who was a founding member of The Animals). Price’s songs, which serve as a Greek chorus, are so catchy that I scoured used record stores (I was a college student!) the day after I saw the film in search of its soundtrack (I found it). Malcolm McDowell reprises his role as Mick Travis from Anderson’s earlier If; the later Britannia Hospital is related, but not really a sequel. Helen Mirren and Ralph Richardson headline a great supporting cast, in which several performers play multiple roles.

Bond battles Oddjob.

58. Goldfinger – My favorite 007 film has everything going for it: a terrific villain, the first of the memorable henchmen, a strong heroine, clever gadgets, another fine John Barry score, and an ingenious plot. Plus, it boasts Sean Connery giving his best performance as Bond (it helps that 007 is emotionally invested this time around…after Goldfinger murders Jill Masterson). It also features my favorite line of dialogue in a Bond film. While strapped on a slab with a laser heading toward his private parts, 007 tells Goldfinger that he won’t talk. The villain’s famous retort: “I don’t want you to talk, Mr. Bond. I want you to die!”

Lee contemplates his next move.

57. Fist of Fury (aka The Chinese Connection) – Bruce Lee’s most traditional martial arts film recycles the vintage plot of two martial arts schools pitted against one another. In this case, the setting is Shanghai 1908 and the basis of the conflict is nationality—the bad Japanese school wants the good Chinese school closed. It’s a thin premise and, overall, the film can’t compare with the slicker Enter the Dragon. Still, it features my favorite Bruce Lee performance and the fight scenes are masterpieces of balletic violence.

56. The Fearless Vampire Killers (aka Dance of the Vampires) – I consider this cult classic a stylish parody of Hammer Films’ fangs-and-damsels formula. One’s affection for it will depend, in part, upon familiarity with the Hammer approach. All the expected ingredients are present: attractive women in low-cut attire, a Transylvanian setting, a Gothic castle, garlic hanging from the ceiling of a beer haus, a hint of eroticism, and a well-prepared vampire hunter. To this mix, Polanski adds a dash of the unexpected: a bumbling love struck assistant, a Jewish vampire, a gay vampire, and a darkly humorous ending. It’s also one of my favorite “snow movies.”

The other hand spells "hate."

55. The Night of the Hunter - Charles Laughton’s only directorial effort is a haunting, poetic film that explores themes ranging from the battle between good and evil to the propensity of Nature to protect the innocent. The film also provides Robert Mitchum with his finest role as Harry Powell, evil incarnate disguised as a preacher (what makes the character even more chilling is that Harry believes he has a special relationship with the Almighty). Laughton’s striking use of shadows and silhouettes recalls the Expressionistic German films of the 1920s (e.g., The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari). I suspect much of the credit for the brilliant lighting belongs to cinematographer Stanley Cortez, a skilled craftsman who labored in routine films except for this one and Orson Welles’ The Magnificent Ambersons.

Sandra Dee and Troy Donahue.

54. A Summer Place - Fans of Delmer Daves’ glossy New England soap opera are sharply divided between those who revere it as a classy, nostalgic sudser and those who regard it as camp. I hold the former view, for in spite of occasional plunges into overwrought drama, A Summer Place evokes genuine warmth with its tale of old love rekindled and young love flaming for the first time. Thematically, Daves’ films are always more complex than they first appear. In A Summer Place, forbidden love and innocent love are explored through a subtle form of voyeurism; everybody seems to be secretly watching everyone else. No review of a Summer Place would be complete without mentioning composer Max Steiner's haunting, lyrical musical score.

McDowell as H.G. Wells.

53. Time After Time - This ingenious concoction of science fiction, thriller, and romance comes from the fertile imagination of Nicholas Meyer (The Seven Per Cent Solution). David Warner plays Jack the Ripper, who uses H.G. Wells’ time machine to escape from London in 1893 to San Francisco in 1979—with Wells (Malcolm McDowell) in hot pursuit. Watching the two turn-of-the-century intellectuals in a contemporary setting is fascinating. Much of the film’s humor is derived from Wells’s attempts to fit in. He eats at a “Scottish restaurant” called McDonald’s. He boldly discusses his ideas on “free love” to bank employee Amy Robbins (a marvelous Mary Steenburgen), who is amused by his old-fashioned values. In contrast, Warner’s killer adapts to his new environment quickly and smoothly. In an eerie scene, he flips through several TV channels filled with violent images and informs Wells: “I belong here completely and utterly. I’m home. Ninety years ago, I was a freak. Now, I’m an amateur.”

52. Where Eagles Dare – Set in the white-capped mountains of Austria, Where Eagles Dare sends seven special forces soldiers to rescue a U.S. general being held captive by the Nazis. But this is no routine mission: the soldiers must break into an impregnable mountaintop castle, there appears to be a traitor among them, and their squad leader seems to trust no one—except the blonde agent hiding in the barn. Most of the plot takes place in the first ninety minutes, including some unexpected twists that reveal the true nature of the mission. The last hour consists of a series of explosive action sequences, the highlight being a fight atop a cable car leading from the mountain castle to the village below. Richard Burton and Clint Eastwood are the stars of this perfect popcorn movie—one of my favorite flicks to watch on snowy day.

51. To Sir With Love - In a role seemingly tailored for him, Sidney Poitier plays Mark Thackeray, a young engineer looking for a job. Unable to find one in his chosen profession, he accepts temporary employment as a teacher in an inner-city London school. It’s a bleak situation—the students are out of control, most of the teachers are burned out, and the school reflects the poverty of the surrounding neighborhood. Thackeray’s initial attempts to reach his students fail miserably, but he eventually makes a difference in their lives. Cynics criticize To Sir, With Love as simple-minded and obvious. Perhaps, it is, but the story is put across with such conviction and professionalism that it’s impossible to ignore its many charms. In particular, a subplot involving an attractive student (Judy Geeson) who develops a crush on Thackeray is handled impeccably. The film’s theme, sung by Lulu (who plays one of the students), became a huge pop hit. Director James Clavell must have recognized the song’s potential—it’s heard repeatedly throughout the picture.

Next month, I'll count another ten, including films featuring Vincent Price, Elizabeth Taylor, two Hayley Mills, Toshiro Mifune, and millions of nasty ants!

31 Days of Halloween: There's No Escape from Polanski and The Fearless Vampire Killers

Many of the characters in Roman Polanski's films are trapped in some way, unable to escape. Catherine Deneuve in Repulsion (1965), on a psychological level, is trapped within herself, avoiding most human contact (particularly male). She even seems a prisoner in her own apartment. Likewise, Polanski in The Tenant (1976) rarely leaves his apartment, obsessed with the previous tenant, who committed suicide. Other Polanski films, such as Death and the Maiden (1994) and The Ninth Gate (1999), tell stories of characters who are captives of their desires. It's fitting that the director often exploited the wide-angle lens (which makes space seem smaller by pushing objects together) and had his camera closely follow the subjects. It's as if the characters are incapable even of eluding the audience.

In spite of its humorous approach, Polanski's 1967 movie, The Fearless Vampire Killers, or: Pardon Me, But Your Teeth Are in My Neck (originally titled and released in other countries as Dance of the Vampires), features characters who are ostensibly confined. The film begins with Professor Abronsius (Jack MacGowran) and his assistant, Alfred (Polanski), traveling through the snow by horse and sleigh. A pack of wild dogs starts chasing the sleigh (Alfred attempts to fight them off with an umbrella), but fortunately, the dogs retreat when the sun begins to rise. The sleigh is traveling on the only path available for transportation. So the men have but one choice for a destination: the direction in which they are already headed. They cannot turn around, lest they be torn to pieces by wild dogs, much like the beasts did with Alfred's feeble weapon of choice.

Once they reach an inn, the professor is near death from the bitter cold. The innkeeper and guests tend to Abronsius and Alfred, and they are given a room. It is soon abundant that the two men have a goal in mind. They are hunting vampires, and the professor is excited to see garlic hanging from the ceilings. But these "vampire killers" cannot even handle the people at the inn. The innkeeper, Shagal, tiptoes to a maidservant's quarters late at night. When his wife goes looking for him, she inadvertently whacks the professor on the head, knocking him out cold. Shagal claims that the men's room is best due to its proximity to the bathroom, but this is immaterial when his daughter, Sarah (Sharon Tate), monopolizes the washtub. Later, Sarah is taken by vampire Count von Krolock. Shagal heroically rushes out to save his daughter and is found dead the subsequent morning. His wife refuses to drive a wooden stake through Shagal's heart, so Abronsius and Alfred wait until night to do it themselves. However, by the time they get to Shagal's corpse, following a practice run with pillows, the former innkeeper has awakened and runs out the door.

Polanski creates a claustrophobic atmosphere at the inn. The professor and Alfred must succumb to everyone else's behavior. When they finally take the initiative and travel to the Count's nearby castle, they are still burdened by obstacles. A hunchback watches over the vampires in repose, and when they manage to reach the vampires' coffins, Alfred's trepidation (he's anything but "fearless") prevents any action resulting in vampire death. These two men are so absorbed with themselves -- the professor and his infatuation with vampires, Alfred with his incompetence and wandering eyes for the ladies -- that they often do not understand one another. At the castle, Alfred is upset, believing that Sarah is dead. Unable to discern Alfred's mutterings, Abronsius questions him: "Sarah's dead?" Alfred mistakes it for confirmation, gasping and exclaiming softly, "Oh my God!" Alfred's perpetual confusion carries over to others as well. At the inn, Sarah stops by his room, complaining about her life. Alfred is so mesmerized by the beautiful woman that when she asks, "Do you mind if I have a quick one?" he stumbles through a response, "I don't mind at all!" She, of course, is simply asking to use the tub in the adjacent room.
The professor and Alfred are on the prowl for bloodsuckers, but they truly are prisoners, unable to accomplish basic tasks and always at the mercy of others, human or otherwise. This makes for many an amusing sequence, as Polanski includes jabs at the vampire legend, with a Jewish vampire (who chuckles when a potential victim tries to protect herself with a cross) and a flamboyantly gay vampire whose got his sights set on poor Alfred. MacGowran is remarkable as the professor, and Polanski proves equally adept in front of the camera, with a charming performance as the bumbling assistant. Tate is quite appealing as Sarah, and her scenes with Polanski are bittersweet.

In the U.S., Polanski's movie was given the ridiculously long title and snipped of almost 20 minutes. Additionally, a silly and ultimately superfluous cartoon was added before the opening credits, all in an attempt to make the film a slapstick comedy. Most copies available today retain the Americanized title but are thankfully uncut. The Fearless Vampire Killers is undeniably funny, but it is also exhilarating and wonderfully made, an exemplary model for the cinema of Roman Polanski.