The Killers (1964) and Tenebrae

Clu Gulager and Lee Marvin.

The Killers (1964). Don Siegel's adaptation of Ernest Hemingway's 1946 short story "The Killers" is sadly overshadowed by the 1946 film version that made stars of Burt Lancaster and Ava Gardner. Siegel's The Killers is a lean, fast-paced drama that borrows elements from the 1946 movie, but alters the narrative path. Lee Marvin and Clu Gulager play contract killers Charlie and Lee, who are hired to murder former race car driver Johnny North. The job goes off without a hitch, but Charlie (Marvin), the more experienced hit man, is bothered by the fact that Johnny knew they were coming to kill him--but chose not to flee. Charlie becomes obsessed with finding out why and, as the killers interview people who knew their victim, Johnny's story unfolds in flashbacks. John Cassavetes turns in one of his most likable performances as Johnny, whose once-promising career goes off the rails when he falls for a mobster's mistress (Angie Dickinson). The flashbacks are well done, but The Killers works best when it focuses on the contrasting title characters: the quiet, perceptive Charlie and his younger, more action-minded partner Lee. Marvin's performance foreshadows his ruthless role in the better-known Point Blank (1967), while Gulager is a revelation. It's a shame that his career was mostly limited to TV series such as The Tall Man and The Virginian. The Killers was originally intended as one of the first made-for-TV movies, but its content was deemed too violent and it received a theatrical release. A scene in which Ronald Reagan, as a ruthless criminal, slaps Angie Dickinson is often cited for its violence. However, it pales in comparison to a later scene in which Marvin's hit man brutally slugs her. You can currently stream The Killers on Rumble for free by clicking here.

Tenebrae (1982). After a detour into supernatural horror with Suspiria (1977) and Inferno (1980), filmmaker Dario Argent returned to the giallo genre where he experienced great success in the 1970s (e.g., Deep Red, The Bird with the Crystal Plumage). Tony Franciosa stars as American writer Peter Neal, who travels to Rome to promote his latest mystery, a grisly thriller titled Tenebrae. Following the death of a young woman, Peter receives a letter from the killer who claims to have been inspired by Peter's violent novels. As more murders occur, the author closes in on the identity of the murderer--but all is not what it seems. Stylish and thematically complex, Tenebrae suffers from Argento's desire to pull out all the stops--no matter the costs. There's an incredible tracking shot in which the camera crawls along the side of a building, then up and over it and down the other side. It's an amazing technical feat, but adds little to the scene's suspense. There are also anonymous flashbacks, blood-splattered killings (you've been warned!), and a doozy of a climatic twist. I'm still not sure if the latter plays fair with the audience, but it will grab your attention. Tenebrae is a a moderately-successful return to Argento's roots, but it could have been so much more. Despite starring a well-known American actor, Tenebrae received a limited release in the U.S. two years after its European premiere; it was heavily edited and retitled Unsane. 

Richard Brooks' The Professionals

Lee Marvin as the group's leader.

It was a commercial and critical success. It earned three Academy Award nominations. It starred two of the biggest stars of the 1960s. And yet, The Professionals (1966) rarely gets the attention it deserves these days. When it was shown on TCM last June, it got a late afternoon time slot instead of a more desirable prime time appearance (sad face!).

Set in 1917, the film opens with wealthy land owner J.W. Grant (Ralph Bellamy) hiring four men to rescue his wife from a Mexican revolutionary holding her for ransom. The "professionals" are comprised of: Fardan (Lee Marvin), the group's leader and a former soldier; Jake (Woody Strode), an expert scout and archer; Ehrengard (Robert Ryan), a horse wrangler; and Dolworth (Burt Lancaster), Fardan's close friend and a dynamite specialist. Grant agrees to pay each man $1,000 upfront with $9,000 upon return of his wife Maria (Claudia Cardinale).

Woody Strode, Robert Ryan, and Lee Marvin.

From the outset, Dolworth senses that something is not right. He and Fardan fought in the Mexican Revolution alongside Raza (Jack Palance), the alleged kidnapper. When Dolworth considers bailing on the job, Fardan reminds him that they agreed to a contract.

DOLWORTH: "My word to Grant ain't worth a plugged nickel."

FARDAN: "You gave your word to me."

After dealing with bandits and punishing desert temperatures, the four men reach Raza's settlement. However, in the midst of their carefully orchestrated rescue attempt, they make a not-so-surprising discovery. 

Burt Lancaster as Dolworth.

Based on the 1964 novel A Mule for the Marquesa, The Professionals marked a return to the Western genre for director-screenwriter Richard Brooks. Although Brooks was best known for adapting high-class dramas such as Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and Sweet Bird of Youth, he had made an earlier Western called The Last Hunt in 1956. 

With The Professionals, he aims to explore the final days of the "Wild West," like other notable Westerns of the 1960s (e.g., Ride the High Country and the later Wild Bunch). It's no wonder that hard men like Fardan and Dolworth reminisce about the old days; they no longer have a place in a West "owned" by the likes of J.W. Grant. They admire Raza because--unlike them--he hasn't given up on the revolution. All that the four professionals have left is their word and their mutual respect for one another. It's no wonder that Fardan puts a premium on completing their contract.

Lancaster and Claudia Cardinale.

For a film with a number of explosive action scenes, The Professionals is surprisingly talky at times. That's not a bad thing as it allows Brooks and his excellent cast to flesh out the movie's characters and themes. The focus isn't just on the four principals either, as Brooks provides pithy dialogue for Cardinale as the passionate, feisty Maria. (It's worth noting that two of Cardinale's best performances were in 1960s Westerns: this one and  Once Upon a Time in the West). My only complaint with Brooks' screenplay is his occasional use of contemporary words like "terrific," which seem out of place.

Brooks and cinematographer Conrad Hall capture some breathtaking images of the desert landscapes during daylight and night. Hall's work earned him an Oscar-nomination.

Richard Brooks received two nominations as well, for his screenplay adaptation and for directing. Thus, it's downright odd that The Professionals was not nominated for Best Picture. However, Brooks no doubt relished its commercial success. A sequel was discussed for several years, although it proved impossible to reunite the four male leads (though Marvin and Ryan were both in The Dirty Dozen). Brooks returned to the Western genre one last time in Bite the Bullet (1975). It's a fine film starring Gene Hackman and James Coburn and featuring a closing scene almost as memorable as the one in The Professionals. 

Sam Peckinpah's TV Series "The Westerner"

Brian Keith and Spike in The Westerner.

Produced in 1960, The Westerner is a tough, realistic TV Western that befits its creator, Sam Peckinpah. The director  was already a TV veteran, having written and directed episodes of Gunsmoke, Broken Arrow, and The Rifleman in the 1950s. In fact, he is often credited as the creator of The Rifleman, having written the pilot which first appeared on Zane Grey Theater.

The Westerner stars Brian Keith as an illiterate drifter named Dave Blassingame, who travels from town to town with his dog Brown. While not openly affectionate--indeed, Dave criticizes Brown for not helping out on more than one occasion--there is a strong bond between man and dog. They're both independent souls; Dave describes Brown as "being his own dog." Hence, it's not a surprise when Dave turns down a hefty sum of $200 when a dandy tries to buy Brown (the same episode features what may be one of the longest fist fights in broadcast TV history).

Diana Millay and Brian Keith.

The Westerner, though, is not about Dave and Brown. They're the protagonists that keep the plots moving, but Peckinpah is more interested in the people they meet while roaming the frontier. In the first episode, Dave almost dies trying to rescue a young woman from the apparent clutches of a manipulative older man. It's not until the closing scene that Dave learns she really doesn't want to be rescued.

Peckinpah earned his reputation as a director, but he was a good writer, too. He has a hand in many of the scripts with Bruce Geller (creator of Mission: Impossible) also penning several of them. The second episode includes some great examples of the series' first-rate writing, such as this exchange between Dave and a dead man's brothers played by John Anderson and Williams Tracy.

Brother #1:  It must take a lot of stomach to ride into a man's kin and tell them you killed their brother. (To the other brother) Go find the book.

Brother #2 (to Dave): Proud of it, he is.

Dave: Don't point at me as being proud. I don't take no pride in killing.

Brother #1: You ain't sorry.

Dave: You bet I am. I'm sorry if I had to kill him I didn't get there a couple of minutes earlier. I'm sorry he was ever born.

Sadly, NBC cancelled The Westerner after 13 episodes due to low ratings; it was up against Route 66 on CBS and The Flintstones on ABC. I suspect the show may have experienced some challenges with the network's censors, too. Some episodes feature sudden violent outbursts (e.g., a schoolteacher attacked and accidentally killed) that remain potent today.

Peckinpah tried to revive the series in 1963 with an episode of The Dick Powell Theatre called "The Losers." It was a contemporary "Western" and starred Lee Marvin as Dave Blassingame (who still has a dog as a companion).

In 1967, Tom Gries adapted an episode he wrote of The Westerner ("Line Camp") into the motion picture Will Penny. The critically-acclaimed movie starred Charlton Heston as a aging cowboy who befriends a young woman and her son. Heston has often claimed it was his favorite among his film roles.

Spike in Old Yeller.

By the way, if the dog playing Brown in The Westerner looks familiar, then you may recognize the work of canine actor Spike. He is best-known for portraying the title role in Walt Disney's Old Yeller. My favorite of his scenes in The Westerner is when Dave is trying to get Brown to chew the ropes tying his hands--and the canine is too busy sampling leftovers on a dinner table. That sounds like my dogs.

Book Review: Opening Wednesday at a Theater or Drive-In Near You

Subtitled The Shadow Cinema of the American '70s, Charles Taylor's new book contains sharply-written essays on fourteen "B" classics from what he calls "the third--and, to date, last--great period in American movies." I'll just say upfront that any book that praises Walter Hill's under-appreciated Depressive-era drama Hard Times is going to get a good review from me.

In his introduction to these films, Taylor points out that, unlike the blockbusters that dominate today's screens, these 1970s pictures captured the "small towns, gas stations, and two-lane highways" (e.g., Vanishing Point, Two Lane Blacktop) and the "seamy views of American cities" (e.g., Prime Cut, Hickey & Boggs). There's a genuine grittiness in these pictures, almost as if one can feel the grain on the film stock.

Lee Marvin in Prime Cut.

Taylor's best essays focus on movies featuring two of the most iconic stars of their era: Lee Marvin and Charles Bronson. In Prime Cut (1972), Marvin plays a Chicago mobster sent to the Midwest to settle a debt. The joke, notes Taylor, is that a "big-city mob enforcer is in much more danger in the Kansas City heartland than any Kansan would be in Chicago." The film's real villain is a slaughterhouse owner named "Mary Ann" (Gene Hackman), who sells women and makes sausage out of his enemies. Yet, these atrocities are performed against a backdrop of "county fairs...amber waves of grain, (and) white clapboard houses in the beautiful countryside." Prime Cut is not an easy film to watch, but Taylor makes a convincing case that it's a film true to its convictions and characters.

Bronson in Hard Times.

In Hard Times (1975), Charles Bronson plays a Depression-era drifter in New Orleans who earns money by participating in bareknuckle fights arranged by small-time hustler James Coburn. Taylor not only recognizes Hard Times as a quietly efficient "beautifully directed film," he also sings the praises of the underrated Charles Bronson. He notes: "Throughout his film career, Bronson was most at home in the realm of the stoic and the taciturn. But at least until the success of Death Wish trapped him in one vigilante role after another, he possessed an instinctive sense of how the camera magnifies gestures and changes of expression."

It's these insights that make Opening Wednesday at a Theater or Drive-In Near You a quick, absorbing read. Some of the other films reviewed include: Foxy Brown and Coffy (a Pam Grier double-feature!), American Hot Wax, Ulzana's Raid, Winter Kills, and Eyes of Laura Mars.

Opening Wednesday at a Theater or Drive-In Near You: The Shadow Cinema of the American '70s is 199 pages and contains no photos. It was published by Bloomsbury USA, which provided a courtesy copy for this review.

The Five Best Lee Marvin Performances

While recently reading a new biography of Lee Marvin, I was reminded of his many memorable performances. That led to this latest installment in our "Five Best" series:

1. Point Blank.  As the vengeance-driven Walker, Lee Marvin could have opted to play the protagonist as a robotic killing machine in John Boorman's cult classic. Instead, he provides a complex, nuanced performance that allows Walker's uncomfortable quietness to explode into raw violence. Marvin may have done better acting in other films, but this is his most powerful performance.

2.  Monte Walsh.  Like Sam Peckinpah's Ride the High Country, this fine Western explores the changing times faced by the rugged men who tamed the frontier. A grizzled Marvin captures the title character's honesty, toughness, and--most of all--understanding of the inevitable (the film is often labeled a tragedy).  Had the Academy Awards not given Marvin an Oscar for Cat Ballou, I think he would have been at least nominated for this performance. Incidentally, there's a strong Shane connection: Jack Palance co-stars and the source novel was penned by Shane author Jack Schaefer.

3. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance. Compile a list of great Hollywood villains and Liberty Valance is likely to be on it. He's downright despicable in scenes like his confrontation with a pistol-packing Ransom Stoddard (James Stewart). As Stoddard approaches nervously from the shadows, Valance leans casually against a post and laughs almost gleefully, before finally announcing: "All right, dude, this time right between the eyes." It's a pivotal performance in a classic John Ford Western.

4. The Dirty Dozen. In perhaps his most famous role, Marvin played Major John Reisman, who is given the perilous task of molding twelve Army convicts into a cohesive unit for a suicide mission behind enemy lines during World War II. The film's first half is lighthearted, focusing on Reisman's training challenges; the second half is first-rate, nonstop action. As a result, The Dirty Dozen provides Marvin with an opportunity to show both his lighter side and his familiar tough side. In a film with several memorable supporting performances, he is the glue that holds everything together.

5. Cat Ballou. I struggled with this choice, because I think Marvin's Oscar-winning performance is overrated. Personally, I much prefer Marvin in The Professionals and other films listed among the honorable mentions. However, having recently watched Cat Ballou, one can't deny that it features his most different performance as washed-up, drunken gunfighter Kid Shelleen (although he does double duty as villain Tim Strawn, that amounts to little more than a cameo). His best scene is when Kid finally decides to get cleaned up for a showdown against his rival.

Honorable Mentions: The Professionals; The Big Red One; The Iceman Cometh; Ships of Fools; and The Killers (1964);

"Lee Marvin: Point Blank" - Dwayne Epstein's New Biography of The Merchant of Menace

In Lee Marvin: Point Blank, author Dwayne Epstein puts together a convincing portrait of the enigmatic actor that New York Times film critic Vincent Canby once called "The Master of Menace." Epstein augments Marvin's insightful letters and colorful quotes with anecdotes from family, friends, and especially former wife Betty Ebeling Marvin. The result is a lively biography of a dedicated, hard-drinking actor whose detached, violent "heroes" came alive vividly in films such as The Dirty Dozen, The Killers (1964), and Point Blank.

Born in New York in 1924, Lee Marvin--like his brother Robert--was named after Robert E. Lee. Their mother, Courtenay, was an ancestor of the famous Confederate general. Author Epstein speculates that Lee Marvin suffered from Attention Deficit Disorder as a youth as well as dyslexia. The young Marvin displayed a rebellious nature at home--he and his mother never got along--and in school. Later in life, he boasted of being expelled from fifteen schools.

He eventually played authority figures
in war films like The Dirty Dozen.

For a young man who often defied authority, it's ironic that Marvin not only enlisted in the armed services in 1942, but chose the Marines. However, as Epstein points out, "it was a time of extreme patriotism" following Pearl Harbor; Marvin's brother and father, a World War I veteran,  also enlisted. Undoubtedly, his years as a Marine shaped the rest of Marvin's life. Excerpts from his early letters show a young man at conflict. He proudly discusses his test scores and marksmanship, but also writes "sometimes I wonder what I joined up for." Marvin participated in many bloody battles following his deployment to the Pacific in 1944. When a wound ended his military career in 1945, Marvin "could not shake off the intense feeling he was experiencing: anger, frustration and worst of all, survivor guilt as the war stubbornly wore on."

Following the end of the war, Marvin contemplated working as a forest ranger and car salesman before becoming a plumber's apprentice. However, Marvin's career took a different path when he became involved in a Red Cross benefit called "Ten Nights in a Barroom" in Woodstock, New York, in 1946. That eventually led to a summer stock gig with the Maverick Theater in 1947. Epstein notes that acting provided an "outlet to express his inner demons that had been frustrating him since the war." Marvin used his G.I. bill money to attend the American Theater Wing, which led to small parts. However, he later said that Broadway "was a damn bore...the New York stage is a hustle." When colleague James Doohan (Star Trek's Scotty) recommended Marvin move to the West Coast, Marvin took the advice.

As the no-nonsense hero of M Squad.

In Hollywood, Lee Marvin excelled in movies that featured a "much darker tone...creeping like an uninvited guest into American popular culture." He played villains and tough guys in films such as The Big Heat, Bad Day at Black Rock, A Life in the Balance, Violent Saturday, and The Rack. Despite steady work, stardom eluded him and, at the urging of his trusted agent Meyer Mishkin, Marvin took the lead role in the TV series M Squad. The 1957 documentary-style series featured Marvin as detective Lieutenant Frank Ballinger; it was a minor hit and proved that the actor could handle starring roles. In typical fashion, Marvin downplayed the series, telling the press: "Cops and robbers series sell. You don't make TV shows for fun--you make them for money."

As Epstein skilfully traces Marvin's rise to big-screen stardom in the 1960s, he paints a picture of a man struggling with personal relationships and alcoholism. Toward the end of his 16-year marriage to the former Betty Ebeling, Marvin started a relationship with actress Michelle Triola. Although they broke up in 1970, she sued Marvin in what became a landmark palimony case in the state of California. Marvin, meanwhile, married Pamela Feeley, a former girlfriend from his summer stock days. They remained together until his death in 1986.

With Lee Marvin: Point Blank, author Dwayne Epstein has written an engrossing, well-researched biography of an unlikely Hollywood star. He praises Marvin's best films (The Professionals, Point Blank), but also provides honest assessments of the bad ones (The Klansmen). I don't buy his contention that "the roots of physical aggression were genetically set in place long before (Marvin's) very existence." Indeed, Epstein does a fine job of explaining the events that shaped Marvin's persona on and off the screen--and that's no easy feat. The 303-page book features candid black and white photos, an index, footnotes, an in-depth bibliography, and a list of roles that Marvin turned down (e.g., Patton). It's a must for Lee Marvin fans and is also recommended for any film buffs interested in American cinema in the 1950s-70s.

Independent Publishers Group provided the Cafe with a review copy of this book.

Stake Your Claim in Paint Your Wagon (1969)

Paint Your Wagon (1969). Adapted from the 1951 stage musical by Lerner and Loewe. Cast: Lee Marvin, Clint Eastwood, and Jean Seberg.

This one of those movies I'm embarrassed to admit I love. I really enjoy the friendship that develops between the two lead characters and their lack of singing talents, which is so bad that it becomes interesting. The story begins as a wagon crashes into a ravine. Prospector Ben Rumson finds two brothers, one is dead and the other is injured with a broken arm and leg. As the one brother is about to be buried, gold is found at the graveside. As dirt is flying, Ben stakes a claim on the land and declares the other brother as his "Pardner". Later, Pardner, a hopeless romantic sings a love song about a girl named Elisa (can you believe Clint Eastwood is really singing)? Pardner hopes to find enough gold to buy some farmland. Ben claims that while he is willing to fight, steal, and cheat at cards, he promises not to betray a partner, and that he will share what ever gold he finds with Pardner on the condition that Pardner takes care of him in his moments of melancholy.

Soon, a tent city by the name of "No Name City" is built with the miners living a wild life and singing songs ("Hand Me Down That Can o' Beans") sung by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. My favorite song in the movie a beautiful balled called "They Call the Wind Maria.". By this time, the men are missing female companionship and the arrival of a Mormon, Jacob Woodling, with two wives, is the last straw. They talk him into selling one of his wives to the highest bidder. Elizabeth agrees to be sold, believing that whatever she gets, "it can't be as bad as what she has." A drunken Ben has the highest bid. Ben is readied for the wedding by the other miners ("Whoop-Ti-Yay")and Elizabeth is married to Ben under "mining law". She wants him to treat her with respect and to build her a wooden cabin. Ben promises to build her a cabin and with the help of the town's men, Elizabeth has a roof over her head.. Elizabeth's presence soon becomes a problem for Ben.

Just in time to save to Ben's sanity, they hear the news of the arrival of "six French tarts" coming to a neighboring town and quickly come up with a plan to kidnap the women and bring them to "No Name City" ("There's a Coach Comin' In"), providing the town with income as other miners from all over will travel to "No Name City" for... what should I call it... the night life.. Ben leaves Elizabeth in the care of Pardner. While Ben is gone, the two fall in love ("I Talk to the Trees"). Elizabeth says that she also still loves Ben, and convinces them that if a Mormon man can have two wives, a woman can have two husbands. Everything seems to be going, what I will call.. reasonably well.. until a group of religious settlers is rescued from the snow. They are invited to spend the winter with Elizabeth and Pardner, who they believe to be her only husband. Ben has to stay in town. What will happen to this love triangle ?

This is a clip from behind the scenes of Paint Your Wagon.


Fun Facts:

Eastwood and Marvin did their own singing while Seberg's songs were dubbed. The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band has a cameo in the song "Hand Me Down That Can o' Beans".

This film was made near Baker City, Oregon, Big Bear Lake, California and San Bernardino National Forest. Eastwood said that the experience made him want to become a director. According to Robert Osborne, "Marvin drank heavily during the filming of the movie, which may have enhanced his screen appearance, but led to delays and many retakes." My gosh..can you imagine..

Cafe du Cinema Society Discusses: John Boorman's Point Blank (1967)

Welcome to our first Cafe du Cinema discussion group! We'll select a film each month that's showing on TCM, give everyone about a week to watch it, and then share our views on the movie in this forum. This month, we picked John Boorman's Point Blank, starring Lee Marvin and Angie Dickinson, which TCM broadcast last Saturday, 12 September 09. I'm going to omit a plot synopsis because I assume all discussion participants have seen the movie. My goal is just to get the discussion started.

The first time I saw this film (several years ago), I felt it was a stylish, violent revenge film--but nothing more. It's only on subsequent viewings that I began to realize there was more than meets the eye. So, let me start our discussion with this question: Are the events of the film actually taking place or are they the fragmented thoughts of a dying Walker (Marvin)?

During the credits, we see an apparently dying Walker (who was shot at point blank range) muttering on the cell floor: "A dream...a dream."  After a montage of scattered flashbacks, he staggers into the ocean and then appears years later, displaying no evidence of a near-fatal wound. How did Walker recover? How did he get off Alcatraz? Near the end of the film, when Walker and Chris (Dickinson) are waiting for Brewster, Chris is wearing an orange dress. The next morning, she is wearing the same dress, only now it's white. A bizarre continuity goof or the shifting "realism" of a dream?

At one point in the film, Chris asks Walker: "Why don't you lie down and die?" Could it be that's what Walking is doing in the cell at Alcatraz?

OK, it's time for your views and your insight. If you have a different interpretation, let's hear it. And if you want to delve into another part of the film, that's cool, too. The goal is to have an active discussion...and fun.