Hello!  A Book Review today:

I just finished reading Stephen Farber and Michael McClellan’s film book Cinema ’62: The Greatest Year at the Movies. It’s a pleasing look at a special group of pictures through an unexpected filter. The premise challenges the standard notion that 1939 was the best year ever for American movies. At first glance that seems a strange idea, as we all have a personal ‘best year’ for films, usually from when we were young moviegoers, entranced by most everything we saw. I loved everything I saw from 1965 to about 1969, but I wouldn’t make a case for many of my favorites in those years to be the ‘best’ of anything.

Touting their magic year 1962, Farber & McClellan do much more than simply offer a list of candidates for the pantheon and fold their arms. They instead organize the output of ’62 as a gallery of trends and themes. In doing so they score good comments about the history of film from roughly the end of WW2, to the present day. Yes, expect plenty of arguments comparing the quality and range of ’62 to any decade that followed. Not even the Golden ‘seventies gets a pass, as that decade’s hits offered a narrowed subject range than ever — the film school generation didn’t make many films about women, for instance. John Frankenheimer released three movies in 1962, but the nature of the business today doesn’t allow a director to build that kind of career momentum.

The authors keep things honest by including pictures that opened for Academy consideration in ’61, but received their substantial release in ’62. The same goes for foreign films delayed in their U.S. release.

Most of the top pix of that year — Lawrence of Arabia, The Manchurian Candidate, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance — need little defense, but the authors push further to sell the idea that ’62 was a crossroads of top cinema culture. New talent were doing their best work (Ride the High Country) and independent film found its first big success (David and Lisa).

Actually, Farber & McClellan don’t need to do too much arm-twisting. They make a compelling case by showing how ’62 became a convergence point in a changing Hollywood. The Old Guard of directors bows out as new blood arrives, mostly from ‘fifties TV. A few classic-era actresses survive by reinventing themselves. And filmmakers in both Hollywood and the U.K. take on subject matter that was formerly considered taboo. Hollywood’s flirtation with psychology pays off with more mature pictures, and socially conscious filmmaking unites directors as different as Robert Mulligan (To Kill a Mockingbird) and Roger Corman (The Intruder).

We’re reminded that in ’62 B&W was still the norm for serious drama, as noted in Advise and Consent, Billy Budd, and The Miracle Worker. The text repeatedly underscores the uphill battle faced by actresses, the best of whom were considered uncommercial at forty while male stars older than 55 were cast in romances opposite women who could be their daughters. The book finishes with a full treatise on the making of Lawrence of Arabia. This account of the epic 65mm production begins by noting that producer Sam Spiegel began as a criminal illegal immigrant. 25 years later, Spiegel is accepting an Oscar and thanks the creatives who made the film — even though he refused to pay their airfare to the awards ceremony.

Serious film books are far and few between now, probably because there are fewer starry-eyed film majors who actually care about film history. I’m partial to the ‘film & politics’ historical narratives offered by J. Hoberman, and Cinema ’62: The Greatest Year at the Movies uses some of the same “look at the context, will ya” approach when deciding what is and isn’t relevant. Farber & McClellan also do a round-up of awards given out by various reviewing groups, a memoriam for venerated repertory film theaters that no longer exist, and a hefty list of 1962 also-rans. Those ‘losers’ naturally include a dozen genre favorites that this writer reveres more than many of the acknowledged winners in constant rotation on TCM.

This is a solid work of film study and appreciation that makes its case for a new ‘Golden Year’ quite well.

( ← note: The cartoon to the left:)  The text of Cinema ’62 prompted me to locate this old Charles Addams illustration commissioned to promote What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?  It enlarges when opened in a new window.

Thanks for reading! — Glenn Erickson

Here’s some fun. Correspondent Alan Dezzani sent along a link to a Carlsburg Beer ad that uses part of the finale to Ice Cold in Alex. I don’t want that spoiled so you’ll have to find it on your own. However, Mr. Dezzani’s other link to a Carling Black Label Gag Advertisement riffing off of The Dam Busters spoils nothing, so here ya go … it’s pretty cute. Correspondent ‘Willard’ sent in the same ad link, thanks!

And Severin Films promises a screwy treat for sometime in May: Fritz Böttger’s Horrors of Spider Island, another title like Eegah and Monstrosity that falls under Herschel Gordon Lewis’s category of A Subject for Further Research, like Cancer!  Long a title destined for confusion, photos from this weird 1960 horror show were featured in long-ago issues of Famous Monsters of Filmland. I think it’s the film where I first realized at age ten that advertising just plain LIES: “hey, somebody just painted big teeth and claws on a photo to hype the monster.” The show is rumored to be awful but that’s no barrier to enjoyment here. Two versions are promised, one from the uncut German negative and another from the American version. And I hope the presentation sorts out the titles and versions … what the heck is It’s Hot in Paradise, anyway?   I’ll repeat Nathaniel Thompson’s memorable blurb from the Severin artwork: “One of the odder fusions of monster mashing and girlie ogling from the early days of Euro exploitation.”

Thanks for reading! — Glenn Erickson

Hello!

The world of commerce is certainly taking a hit right now, with much of the retail workforce at home where it belongs — we’re Doing The Right Thing. Blu-rays are hardly essential goods, and some may be a bit hard to come by until science gets the upper hand on that which has forced us all to self-isolate. Actually, I’ve been getting reports that readers are receiving ordered discs, even if the turnaround time is no longer just a day or two … meanwhile, Amazon appears to have stopped delivering foodstuff items, at least in Los Angeles.

As this is primarily an entertainment website, we’ll continue to review discs as they come in, even items that may not be easily purchased. Discs keep arriving, and if they dry up we’ll have fun reviewing whatever films appeal. I’ve already endorsed Charlie Largent’s idea to backtrack and cover some of his favorite horror items. Companies are still announcing discs, even if ‘current events’ are likely sabotage some of the schedules. Various pundits and the usual yack-track suspects tell us they’re still being commissioned for new commentaries. Life will go on; the Earth will abide — and most of us have much bigger concerns…!

We’re hoping that Scream Factory’s discs for April, May and June stay in the pipeline: Danger: Diabolik!, Day the World Ended!  Meanwhile, they’ve optimistically announced six more titles for July: the Hammer chiller Kiss of the Vampire (a Wayne Schmidt favorite), Roman Polanski’s The Tenant, the faux-kinky Tattoo with Maud Adams and Bruce Dern, Stephen King’s Graveyard Shift, Bert I. Gordon’s crazy War of the Colossal Beast (with its high-voltage color finale?), and Herman Cohen’s opus teenagerus How to Make a Monster (with its Paul Blaisdell mask gallery in color?). I think I should lean on Craig Reardon to help review How to Make a Monster — it’s about a studio makeup man, and I’m sure it’s re-e-a-lly accurate.

Sony/Columbia just wrote to tell us about a lavish Columbia Classics 4K Ultra HD Collection, appointed with “six top titles from the Sony catalog making their 4K debuts, + a host of great bonus features including a hardcover book.” The titles are certainly impressive: Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Lawrence of Arabia, Dr. Strangelove, Gandhi, A League of Their Own ( ↑ ) and Jerry Maguire. Sony says that the last two titles were selected via an entertainment poll; I strongly approve of the choice. The eighty-page book will have an extensive essay written by the much-valued Julie Kirgo. The formidable list of extras includes a Blu-ray copy of each title, and the home video premiere of a Columbia 50th Anniversary TV show from 1975, that includes input from ‘Frank Capra, Phil Silvers and Orson Welles.’

We’re told that review discs are on the way from the UK for Powerhouse Indicator’s upcoming slate of titles, three of which are Blu-ray debuts. Jack Garfein’s The Strange One is the odd film out, followed by four of John Ford’s Columbia titles: The Whole Town’s Talking, The Long Gray Line ( ↑ ), The Last Hurrah and Gideon’s Way.

Finally, correspondent Jonathan Gluckman forwards this Brainstuff video with Jonathan Strickland, explaining a term I’ve certainly used too much without knowing exactly what it is, The Mid-Atlantic or Transatlantic Accent: Why Do People In Old Movies Talk Weird?  The casual talk is not exactly Gospel from the Mount, but I did learn a thing or two.

Thanks for reading! — Glenn Erickson

Hello!

A curious page signed by ‘Crysknife007’ at bandcamp has since 2015 been providing something he calls Forbidden Planet: The Great Krell Machine Ambient Noise. If you remember, the alien race The Krell constructed a giant computer as massive as a steel mill, but with twenty square miles of giant mechanical relays… I guess the Krell never got the hang of microelectronics?  Everything worked just swell until The Krell stumbled into Facebook-style social networking. This audio link is a fair description:

“This is twenty or so minutes of the core ambient sound from inside the Great Krell Machine from Forbidden Planet. Set your favorite music player to play this track on repeat as you go to sleep and you should have no trouble drifting off. Set your player to loop seamlessly to avoid turbulence. This is perfect for imagining some of your deepest secrets, fears, and joys as you drift off to sleep. Also perfect for studying, focusing at work, or just having on where you live as you go about your day.”

Fudge. I was counting on using the audio track to project physical manifestations of my subconscious id to any part of the planet they wanted to go. But this is still very cool. If you listen hard enough, you can hear those millions of mechanical relays kicking over.

This next item is pretty far off base, maybe. Getting tired of my playlist during lockdown, I went searching for some web radio to shake things up, and found a stream called Sweet 16 Oldies. A disco track just snuck in but the majority of records are from the 1960s. The selection is halfway creative — I hear ‘hits’ I haven’t heard in a long time… even the losers are amusing.

I guess (sigh) this is comfort music for listeners around my age group. But I’m never ashamed of Rock ‘n’ Roll in any guise. Look at it this way… we’re still listening to music that is now all over fifty years old. What radio stations in 1965 still played songs from 1925?

I like the homemade radio ads from Elizabethtown, with positive little remarks about our current health crisis. This will certainly keep me sedated entertained for a while. (note, Monday afternoon: The Oldies radio stream just now (3:30 pm) switched over to a fundamentalist preacher. I’m retreating to my playlist for a while. If the feed doesn’t soon revert to safe ‘n’ sane oldies, I’ll know that the whole thing is a boomer trap!)

Finally, we’ve got some sad news that finally came through on FB a couple of days ago. Career film critic and blogger Joe Baltake has passed away. I frequently linked to his thoughtful articles on his The Passionate Moviegoer page. We corresponded frequently too. Joe was quick with welcome corrections — his emails began more than once with “I’m impossible. Whenever I spot a gaffe, I can’t control myself.” I didn’t learn about Joe’s impressive journalistic background until I had already known him several years. A good obit for him is up at the Philadelphia Inquirer.

‘The Passionate Moviegoer’ went quiet last summer, leaving a scary note about Joe’s health that was the last word we heard from him for almost three months. When he came back online in October we celebrated — ‘Hooray for Joe Baltake’ (10.15.19). Joe continued with his blog updates until February 3. His last blog entry is about his favorite film, The Apartment. He will be greatly missed by all of us that enjoyed the enthusiasm and good will of his writing.

Thanks for reading! — Glenn Erickson