The World of Henry Orient

George Roy Hill is an underrated film director, which is astonishing when you consider some of the stone cold classics he’s made: Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969), The Sting (1972), and Slap Shot (1977). His lack of recognition is due in part to his journeyman career that saw him dabble in numerous genres, from literary adaptation to the sports movie to the western. Also, each film he made is different from the other in terms of style and themes explored. Among his eclectic body of work is my favorite The World of Henry Orient (1964), a coming of age film based on the book of the same name by Nora Johnson, daughter of celebrated screenwriter Nunnally Johnson (The Grapes of Wrath).


Set in early 1960’s New York City, the film follows the misadventures of two teenage schoolgirls and their obsession with a pretentious concert pianist. Hill’s adaptation is a carefree romp tinged with elements of sadness that is not watered down for the audience. The opening credits play over a fantastic montage of the city, which now stands as a historical snapshot of a metropolis that sadly no longer exists. A school bus picks up various kids and when it arrives at a girls’ school we meet Marian “Gil” Gilbert (Merrie Spaeth), a girl in the eighth grade. By sheer chance, she encounters fellow eighth grader Valarie “Val” Campbell Boyd (Tippy Walker) and they quickly bond over both being new to the school, their mutual loathing of certain teachers, and the braces on their respective teeth. They soon agree to go adventuring on Saturday and on that day we see them frolicking through a picturesque Central Park in autumn. The two girls imagine themselves as two “beautiful white nurses” and in doing so come across a couple making out in the park. The annoyed man is none other than celebrated concert pianist Henry Orient (Peter Sellers) who happens to be having a covert affair with a married woman by the name of Stella Dunnworthy (Paula Prentiss). Gil and Val are smitten with Orient at first sight and soon pledge to devote their lives to worshipping the musician.

In these early scenes, Hill captures the energy and unbridled joy of being young and having New York as your playground with scenes of the girls giddily jumping garbage cans in the street. The girls hang out at Gil’s house and we learn that they are both children of divorce with Val living with her father and Gil living with her mother. They commiserate over their respective broken households and yearn for a normal family life, like Val’s fantasy of her folks reuniting for Christmas. Val, in particular, has had a tough time of it as her busy, wealthy father Frank Boyd (Tom Bosley) travels the globe frequently often leaving his daughter to her own devices. She may live in the lap of luxury but has to contend with her cold step-mother Isabel Boyd (Angela Lansbury). In comparison, Gil lives in a more modest place with her mother (Phyllis Thaxter) and grandmother. Their apartment is full of inviting, earth-toned colors, which complement the warm parents and loving atmosphere.

Henry Orient is a vain primadonna that affects a phony European accent despite growing up in Brooklyn. Peter Sellers, as always, fully inhabits his character, playing the film’s pretentious antagonist. He nails Orient’s self-importance in the scene where the musician plays a concert, which hilariously conveys all of the cliché “serious artist” affectations perfectly. Orient is a guy just begging to have his oversized ego deflated and Gil and Val are just the girls to do it. Sellers was an extremely gifted comic actor and this is evident in his character’s increasingly exasperated and paranoid behavior as he continues to cross paths with Gil and Val.

This was the first film for both Tippy Walker and Merrie Spaeth and Hill gets wonderfully natural performances free of self-conscious affectations out of both of them. The chemistry between the two young actresses seems genuine and we believe that their characters become fast friends. There are scenes where Gil and Val talk about girly things, like shaving their legs for the first time that feels honest and true. The Johnsons’ screenplay does a fantastic job of conveying how young girls idolize a celebrity, creating a rich fantasy world devoted to them through things like a scrapbook filled with photographs, ticket stubs, magazine articles, and so on. Gil and Val are adorable but not sickeningly so nor do they fall into the trap of being wise beyond their years like something out of a J.D Salinger story. They are normal girls dealing with growing up in broken households with a single parent doing the best they can. Walker has the more challenging role as Val and her difficult home life. It is the scenes with Val and Isabel that temper the film’s happy-go-lucky vibe with a slightly darker tone. Hill doesn’t shy away from Isabel’s cruel nature and the pain it causes Val.

It’s almost an hour into the film until we’re privy to Val’s home life when her father and Isabel throw a swanky Christmas party like something out of Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961). Val is dressed up like a mini-adult and is treated as such by her step-mother. Angela Lansbury seems to be channeling her ice queen from State of the Union (1948), a woman who has no idea how to treat a child properly. Isabel eschews any kind of public display of affection for a handshake. She has forgotten what it’s like to be a teenage girl and is more concerned with appearances and her social status in the affluent circles she frequents. She is what Holden Caulfield would commonly refer to as a “phony” to use the parlance of the times.

Years before he played a kindly father on television’s Happy Days, Tom Bosley embodied a wonderfully warm and understanding dad in The World of Henry Orient. One gets the sense that Frank isn’t around much for Val but he does stick up for her when it comes to Isabel’s disapproving criticism, which makes one wonder just what he saw in this woman in the first place. Unlike Isabel, Frank understands that Val is just a young girl and should be treated as such. He doesn’t talk down to his daughter. He also comes to realize his own shortcomings as a parent and promises Val that he will pay more attention to her. The scene where they have a heart-to-heart is touching without being overly sentimental. It’s not a nice, neat resolution but certainly hints at a healthy beginning. With those kind eyes and sympathetic demeanor, Bosley is the kind of dad that most of us would love to have and he is one of the most endearing aspects of this film.

Elmer Bernstein’s delightful score captures the carefree whimsy of the girls playing in the streets of New York while also replicating Orient’s indulgent avant garde piano playing. Hill uses Bernstein’s score sparingly, more like punctuation in a given scene, like providing a wistful vibe to the girls’ playtime or to enhance Orient’s humorous scenes.

The origins of the film date back to Nora Johnson who grew up in New York City after her parents divorced and she hoped that some day they would get back together. She wrote a book entitled The World of Henry Orient about her experiences with the character of Val being her surrogate and Henry Orient was based on famous pianist/actor Oscar Levant. Johnson’s novel was published in 1958 but her father Nunnally Johnson didn’t envision it as a film because he couldn’t imagine two young actresses doing justice to the characters in his daughter’s book. However, child stars Hayley Mills and Patty Duke had become popular in the early ‘60s and Johnson thought they could be cast in a possible film adaptation. He bought the film rights from his daughter, brought her on board to write the screenplay and even gave her final credit after he re-wrote it completely.

Unfortunately, Johnson couldn’t work out deals with either Mills or Duke and went with two unknowns instead with Merrie Spaeth and Tippy Walker. For the role of Henry Orient, Johnson wanted to cast a recognizable movie star and considered the likes of Robert Preston, Rex Harrison, Tony Randall, and Dick Van Dyke. Then, he offered the role to Peter Sellers and he accepted, enticed by the opportunity to shoot his first film in the United States. When George Roy Hill accepted the job he had only directed two films – adaptations of stage plays Period of Adjustment (1962) and Toys in the Attic (1963). The World of Henry Orient allowed him to showcase his cinematic chops, which he did with the opening scenes on the streets of New York. The film premiered at Radio City Musical Hall in New York City on March 19, 1964 and went on to become the official U.S. entry at the Cannes Film Festival. The film was a modest commercial and critical success. It even became a Broadway musical called Henry, Sweet Henry directed by Hill in 1967 to less than enthusiastic reviews and closed after only 80 performances. One can also see the film’s influence on later fare, like Ghost World (2001), arguably the cinematic heir apparent to Henry Orient (there is even a movie poster for Hill’s film in the background of a scene).

Merrie Spaeth went on to act in two television series before quitting show business in favor of being a political and public relations consultant for several conservative clients. After The World of Henry Orient, Tippy Walker appeared in a handful of T.V. shows and acted in a couple of films before retiring from show business and opening an art gallery near Yale University. Henry Orient is a rare Hollywood film that realistically depicts the friendship between two teenage girls. The dynamic between them and the conversations they have are believable. It is also an excellent coming of age story as Gil and Val realize that the celebrity they worship has clay feet. This painful realization forces both of them to grow up a little bit while still remaining friends.

The Devil Rides Out

Released in 1968, The Devil Rides Out (a.k.a. The Devil's Bride as it was known in America) is a classic Hammer horror film. It contains many of the elements that made the British movie studio famous: Christopher Lee's top notch acting, Terence Fisher's excellent direction, and James Bernard's atmospheric score. In the hands of these talented artists, The Devil Rides Out proves that horror films can be intelligent and do not have to rely on gore and cheap shocks to be effective.


The Duc de Richleau a.k.a. Nicholas (Christopher Lee) and Rex (Leon Greene) are old friends that reunite every few years. During their most recent reunion, Simon (Patrick Mower), the third member of their group, is absent. Nicholas informs Rex that he hasn’t seen Simon for three months. They decide to go to Simon’s house, which he bought recently, and notice a curious-looking observatory built onto it. They walk in on an exclusive party that he’s hosting for a group of rich socialites. He tells Nicholas and Rex that it’s a meeting of an astronomical society that he’s recently joined. Simon tries to maintain an innocent enough façade but he is acting a little strange – his mannerisms seem forced and he is evasive. The look on Nicholas’ face reveals that something’s not quite right. Simon introduces his friends to some of his party guests: a cross-eyed countess and Mocata (Charles Gray), a suave socialite who is polite enough but quickly excuses himself.

When Rex makes an obvious social gaff – Nicholas’ annoyed reaction to his friend’s blunder is priceless – Nicholas rightly assumes that something is off about this "meeting of a little astronomical society" and decides to investigate further. He expertly mingles through the crowd and looks pretty suave lighting a cigarette off a candle (nice touch) as he checks out the various members of the society. The way Nicholas messes with Simon, admiring the décor in his observatory when he obviously knows its true purpose, is amusing. It becomes readily apparent that Simon is under the influence of Mocata, who, it turns out, is the leader of a Satanic cult. Nicholas then confronts Simon and tells him, “I’d rather see you dead than meddling with black magic!” Nicholas tries to reason with Simon but when that doesn’t work out, he knocks him out with a punch and with Rex’s help they take their friend back to Nicholas’ house.

The driving force of the movie is Christopher Lee who is wisely cast against type as a thoughtful protagonist who relies on his wits and his extensive knowledge of the occult to battle the forces of evil. There are several moments in the film where Lee is shown thinking, which suggests that there is something going on behind his intense, captivating eyes. Nicholas is a smart and savvy protagonist determined to save his friend and take down the Satanic cult that has recruited him into their ranks. After playing so many villains during the course of his lengthy career, The Devil Rides Out remains one of my favorite films of his because he was so good as this endlessly fascinating character that fought for good instead of evil.

Leon Greene is the square sidekick to Lee's suave protagonist. Rex is something of an idiot. He leaves his car running with Tanith Carlisle (Nike Arrighi) in it – a follower of Mocata who already tried to escape while the car was moving. His ineptitude balances out Nicholas’ skill, I suppose. Greene is clean-cut and wears a brown suit like some stuffy college professor, which is in sharp contrast to Lee's black suit, goatee and European cigarettes. Greene's character is the audience surrogate, our window into this strange world and he plays off Lee with a wonderful Sherlock Holmes/Dr. Watson dynamic.

The Devil Rides Out was originally a novel written by Dennis Wheatley in 1934. It used Satanism as a conduit to Communism and a hatred of foreigners. In September 1963, Michael Stainer-Hutchins and Peter Daw bought the film rights to a collection of Wheatley’s black magic thrillers, including The Devil Rides Out. Up to that point, the author’s agents had resisted attempts to adapt his books into films and so Stainer-Hutchins and Daw appealed to Wheatley directly. Actor Christopher Lee was a neighbor of the author and also wanted to see his novels turned into films. He asked Hammer studios to strike a deal with Stainer-Hutchins and Daw, which happened in November 1963. Lee knew Wheatley personally, told him of his desire to turn his books into films and got the writer’s blessing.

Initially, Hammer was worried that the subject of Satanism and black magic wouldn’t get past the censors or that the Church would object. However, the story showed the evils of Satanism and ended with good triumphing over evil so the filmmakers ran into no problems in terms of content. Tony Hinds commissioned a screenplay written by American John Hunter but it turned out to be “far too ‘English’” and it was rejected. In September 1964, Hinds asked Twilight Zone scribe Richard Matheson to take a crack at it and Hammer ended up using his script. His final draft was submitted in July 1967 and was very faithful to Wheatley’s novel, although, he did change Mocata from a foreigner to a suave, British socialite. This made the film all the more subversive as the evil comes from within.

Principal photography began on August 7, 1967 and wrapped on September 29 of the same year at Elstree Studios with a budget of 285,000 pounds. From the start, Lee only wanted to play Duc de Richleau but the studio was tempted to cast him as Mocata. The actor was so into the role and the film that he went to the British Museum to find an authentic black magic incantation to use for the Sussamma Ritual in the film. Director Terence Fisher wanted to cast Charles Gray as Mocata but Hammer’s first choice was Gert Forbe, the villain of Goldfinger (1964).

During principal photography, Tony Hinds was worried that the film wasn’t going to be very good. Composer James Bernard remembers Hinds telling him, “you have to do all you can because I’m not sure the film is working out as it should.” He was asked to come up with music that the Satanists would dance to but actually came up with the title them first. The Devil Rides Out had its premiere on July 7, 1968 and was given a general release in the United Kingdom on July 21. It was released in the United States in December of the same year.

The Devil Rides Out is an intelligent alternative to the overabundance of hack 'n' slash horror films. This film demonstrates that Christopher Lee didn't always play nasty bad guys bent on world (or universal) domination for the forces of evil. Unfortunately, it didn’t do well enough to generate a sequel, thus sinking the hopes that Lee would continue to play Nicholas – a character that appeared in ten more novels written by Wheatley and remains one of the great missed opportunities. Perhaps someone else could resurrect this character and tackle some of the other books in the series but I doubt whoever is cast as Nicholas would bring the same amount of gravitas and intelligence to the role as Lee did.

 
Note: the production information for this article was taken from the excellent book, Hammer Films: The Elstree Studios Years by Wayne Kinsey. It is a must-read for any Hammer studio fan.

MGM MOD DVD of the Week: Johnny Cool

Johnny Cool (1963) is a curious cinematic oddity, an offbeat footnote in Rat Pack lore. Produced by Peter Lawford and featuring fellow Rat Packers Sammy Davis Jr. (who also sings the swingin’ theme song), Joey Bishop, and Henry Silva as the title character, the film was based on John McPartland’s novel The Kingdom of Johnny Cool. It was directed by William Asher, best known for the American International Pictures Beach Party series of teen comedies often starring Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello. He was also married to actress Elizabeth Montgomery at the time, which may explain her presence in Johnny Cool.

The film is a character study of sorts about a cold-hearted assassin who grew up as a bandit named Salvatore Giordano (Henry Silva) in Sicily during World War II. As a boy, he watched helplessly as his mother was gunned down by Nazi soldiers. Then, many years later, we see him get gunned down by Italian government soldiers – only his death was faked by a big-time Mafioso in Rome. He sends the newly dubbed Johnny Cool to the United States to kill all of the people who betrayed him. The crime boss reinvents Johnny completely: how he dresses, acts, talks, and so on. He also transforms the man into an efficient killing machine.

Johnny is tasked to bring down rival crime boss Vincenzo Santangelo played with suave menace by Telly Savalas. While impressing New York City mobsters, Johnny catches the eye of a high-end socialite named Darien Guinness (Elizabeth Montgomery) but he rebuffs her advances initially: “You don’t really care if you know me or not, do you?” she says, to which he replies, “Honey, I’m not buying.” She counters, “You couldn’t!” while he tells her, “Then it’s easy. Just forget it.” Undaunted, she pursues him and they begin a love affair.

Known mostly for playing villains and countless supporting roles, it’s great to see Henry Silva as the protagonist in a film for a change. Based on his work in Johnny Cool, it’s a shame he didn’t get more opportunities to do so. Silva carries himself with a cool confidence and looseness befitting the Rat Pack vibe of the film. He plays Johnny as a tough customer not above walking into a Mob-controlled racket and robbing them of their money while joking about it. Silva looks like he’s having a blast in this role.

For fans of Bewitched, this film may come as something of a surprise as we see Elizabeth Montgomery in a rare dramatic role, which she pulls off quite convincingly. Of particular note is the harrowing scene where she’s beaten by a pair of overzealous police detectives (one played by Joe Turkel no less). She also has a nice scene with Silva where Darien bares her soul to Johnny.

Johnny Cool’s tale of single-minded vengeance features the systematic takedown of a crime syndicate with several audacious assassinations: one target is shot and killed in a crowded train station; another is killed in his swimming pool with a briefcase bomb; and Johnny dispatches another one in his office posing as a window washer. His mission is reminiscent of Lee Marvin’s in Point Blank (1967) only without the artsy experimentation. William Asher employs strictly meat and potatoes filmmaking much like what John Flynn would do later with The Outfit (1973) and ends on a surprisingly nihilistic note as Johnny is betrayed and doomed to a nasty fate worthy of a noir protagonist.

 

MGM MOD DVD of the Week: Queen of Blood / The Ambulance

BLOGGER'S NOTE: Kudos to MGM for following Warner Bros. lead by starting to offer some of their more obscure gems available through their Manufacturing-On-Demand (MOD) Platform. You’re essentially getting a very high quality DVD-R and with these new editions, fans can finally throw away their pan-and-scan VHS copies.

Released in 1966 as part of a double bill with fellow American International Pictures B-movie Blood Bath, Queen of Blood was assembled by director Curtis Harrington with footage from the Russian films, Mechte Navstrechu and Nebo Zovyot. It certainly has a distinctive look and atmosphere that suits its blend of horror and science fiction.


The opening credits play over a series of unsettling psychedelic paintings of what appears to be an alien landscape while appropriately creepy atmospheric music by Leonard Morand sets just the right mood of dread. Queen of Blood is set in 1990 where traveling to the Moon is no problem, space stations exist there, and the powers that be are looking into exploring Venus and Mars for signs of intelligent life. Cue cool looking shots of matte paintings depicting life on these planets and footage of an alien race in shadows, which gives an ominous teaser of what’s to come.

We soon meet our hero, Allan Brenner (John Saxon) as he has lunch with his girlfriend Laura James (Judi Meredith) and two fellow astronauts, Paul Grant (Dennis Hopper) and Tony Barrata (Don Eitner). This gives the filmmakers a chance for some wonderfully cheesy banter but you can tell that Dennis Hopper and John Saxon aren’t taking it all that seriously. Their lunch is interrupted by an announcement by Dr. Farraday (a slumming Basil Rathbone). He informs our heroes that they’ve finally received communication from an alien race that plans to send an ambassador to Earth.

The ambassador’s craft crashes on Mars and sends an SOS to Earth. So, Farraday sends Paul and Laura to check it out. When Paul and his crew run into trouble and find a dead alien on Mars, Alan and Tony fly there to help in the search for another alien craft. They find it and inside the sole survivor – a green-skinned female alien (Florence Marly). While the first two thirds of Queen of Blood is all set-up, in the last third all hell breaks loose when alien queen wakes up.

It’s wild to see Dennis Hopper play such a straight-laced role, especially during this period in his career when he had been blacklisted in Hollywood and was relegated to doing American International Pictures (AIP) films for Roger Corman. Just two years later, he would direct, co-write and star in Easy Rider (1969). John Saxon, god bless him, does his best to play the square-jawed hero of the film without a hint of irony. Florence Marly has such an expressive face, which is good because as the alien queen she has no dialogue and uses her creepy smile to captivate the male astronauts. In a nice touch, she also sports a fantastic beehive hairdo that also resembles an onion!

The 1960’s representation of alien beings looks great and oddly more “alien” than a lot of contemporary alien invasion films. It may be due to the fact that the style of that decade looks so foreign to us now. There is a simplicity to their look that is refreshing and the unsettling music really helps sell the otherworldly nature of these beings. The interior of the alien spacecraft evokes the style of Mario Bava’s Planet of the Vampires, released a year earlier in 1965. I love the wonderfully clunky-looking astronaut gear – their helmets are huge and don’t move at all, restricting movement in an awkward way. There’s something great about knowing that all the special effects in Queen of Blood were done by hand. It gives everything an authentic quality. It doesn’t have the unreal artificiality of a lot of CGI – no matter how good it looks you know that what you’re seeing doesn’t exist. The hand-made sets and special effects have a clunky charm all their own and this is one of the pleasures of this film.

Eric Roberts has had an odd career that never reached its full potential. In the early 1980’s, he was part of an exciting generation of up and coming actors that included the likes of Mickey Rourke, Sean Penn and Gary Oldman, and delivered intense, powerful performances in films like Star 80 (1983) and The Pope of Greenwich Village (1984). But then a combination of substance abuse problems and bad career choices soon found Roberts burning many bridges in Hollywood. He became a staple of direct-to-video dreck, popping up in the occasional mainstream film in a supporting role. Roberts ushered in the 1990’s with the cinematic oddity known as The Ambulance (1990), an offbeat thriller written and directed by cult film director Larry Cohen.


Josh Baker (Eric Roberts) is a comic book artist infatuated with a beautiful woman named Cheryl (Janine Turner) that he spots on the streets of New York City at the same time every day. In the middle of trying to sweet talk her into a date, she faints. An ambulance arrives and takes her away. After work, Josh goes to several hospitals in the area but they have no record of her. It turns out that she’s being held against her will at some secret facility that looks like it was lit right out Dario Argento’s Suspiria (1977). It turns out that Cheryl is being tormented by a creepy doctor (Eric Braeden) who likes to touch human skin through surgical gloves. Meanwhile, Josh seeks help from Lieutenant Spencer (James Earl Jones) and so begins a series of crazy misadventures that rival Martin Scorsese’s After Hours (1985) – albeit through Larry Cohen’s gonzo B-movie sensibilities.

Eric Roberts has dabbled in almost every film genre and played all kinds of roles but he’s known mostly for playing heavies. The Ambulance is a refreshing change of pace as he plays an idealistic romantic (who sports a spectacular mullet ‘do I might add). Josh is willing to go to great lengths to track down this mystery woman and Roberts portrays him as a genial motormouth type that Robert Downey Jr. has perfected over his career. It’s interesting because Roberts brings his customary intensity to the role but channels it in a way that is fascinating to watch. This character allows the actor to play a wide spectrum of emotions as he keeps up with the film’s wild, tonal shifts from romantic comedy to thriller. It is also fun to see him bounce off all sorts of oddball characters, like James Earl Jones’ angry police detective or Red Buttons’ sarcastic hospital patient or Eric Braeden’s creepy yet suave doctor. In a nice touch, Josh works at Marvel Comics (?!) and so we are treated to a cameo from Stan “The Man” Lee himself.

It is also interesting to see how Cohen slots a romantic character like Josh into this, at times, sinister thriller. And yet, the filmmaker subverts genre conventions with constant absurd flourishes that reflect Josh’s increasing (and warranted) paranoia. Cohen injects all sorts of inventive plot twists to keep us guessing just how The Ambulance is going to turn out. Will Josh find the girl of his dreams and rescue her from the evil doctor?
 

DVD of the Week: Shock Corridor/The Naked Kiss: Criterion Collection

Samuel Fuller was one of the quintessential genre directors working in Hollywood during the 1950s as he brought his trademark two-fisted gusto to genres like the film noir (Pickup on South Street), the war film (The Steel Helmet), and the western (Forty Guns). In the early 1960s, he managed to independently finance two pulp masterpieces, Shock Corridor (1963) and The Naked Kiss (1964). On the surface, they are unabashed genre films but lurking underneath Fuller injected powerful commentaries on then-contemporary social issues. In the case of Shock Corridor, he used the premise of a reporter going undercover as a patient in a mental hospital to investigate a murder to comment on the issue of racism in America.


Johnny Barrett (Peter Breck) is a reporter for the Daily Globe newspaper and who dreams of winning the Pulitzer Prize by committing himself to a mental hospital in order to solve a murder. His girlfriend stripper Cathy (Constance Towers) is worried that being surrounded by all kinds of crazy people will have a bad effect on him. As she tells him at one point, she’s “fed up playing Greek chorus to your rehearsed nightmare.” Cathy is the voice of reason to Johnny’s cocky hubris, telling him, “Don’t be Moses leading your lunatics to the Pulitzer Prize.” But of course, he doesn’t listen and is confident that he can pull this off while also getting his fame and fortune.

Once inside, Johnny meets a colorful collection of patients, like the man who thinks he’s an Italian opera singer, a man proud of being impotent, another one who believes he’s a general in the American Civil War, and, most intriguingly, an African-American who believes he’s a racist white man. Naturally, prolonged exposure to all of this madness begins to put the zap on Johnny as he gradually loses touch with reality. Fuller, the master of heightened melodrama, cranks it up another notch with this film as evident in the scenes where Cathy tries to get Johnny out of the hospital after six weeks, or when he finally snaps his cap, culminating in a show-stopping sequence that only Fuller could get away with.

At times, Shock Corridor resembles a horror film, like when Johnny wanders into a room full of female patients that swarm and attack him while he screams in terror. Fuller’s film is a fascinating look at what Barton Fink (1991) called, “the life of the mind,” and the thin line between sanity and madness.

As Robert Polito wisely observes in the DVD liner notes for the Criterion Collection edition of The Naked Kiss (1964), Samuel Fuller’s film fuses the melodrama of Douglas Sirk with the pulpy prose of Russ Meyer. The result is what Polito calls a “noirish fairy tale” as a former prostitute relocates to suburbia in an attempt to reinvent herself. However, all kinds of dirty secrets lurk underneath the town’s all-American surface.

The film opens in typical Fuller fashion as Kelly (Towers) beats her drunken pimp with her purse. The director cuts back and forth from both combatants’ point-of-view and then comes the punchline: the pimp reaches out and grabs Kelly’s hair and it’s a wig (?!) revealing her bald head! Welcome to The Naked Kiss. She beats him into submission only so she can take the money he owes her. If this ballsy prologue doesn’t grab you then nothing will.

Two years later, Kelly relocates to Grantville, a nice-enough looking town where local police detective Griff (Anthony Eisley) runs a punk out of town but at least has the decency to give the guy a couple of bucks before sending him packing on a bus. Kelly has reinvented herself as a saleslady for Angel Foam champagne, a beverage that “goes down like liquid gold and it comes up like slow dynamite.”

She and Griff meet at the bus terminal and hit it off immediately. After a one-night stand, he sends her packing – he has no illusions about who she is – but Kelly ignores him and goes to stay at a boarding house in town. She reinvents herself yet again by getting a job as a nurse’s aide in the children’s ward at the local hospital, much to Griff’s chagrin. Kelly soon finds her new way of life threatened by a terrible secret harbored by one of the townsfolk.

In Shock Corridor (1963), Constance Towers had a supporting role but with The Naked Kiss, Fuller cast her as the lead and she’s fantastic as a woman with a checkered past trying to start over. She demonstrates quite a good range as an actress, from the tough dame in the prologue, to the empathetic caregiver working with children at the hospital. Towers gets you to sympathize with Kelly and care about what happens to her. With The Naked Kiss, Fuller shows a slightly softer side but his film is still populated by tough-talking characters. It’s a pulp B-movie with a heart and anchored by a rock solid performance by Towers.

Special Features:

Included on the Shock Corridor DVD is the excellent documentary, The Typewriter, the Rife and the Movie Camera, about the life and career of Fuller with the likes of Tim Robbins, Quentin Tarantino, Jim Jarmusch, and Martin Scorsese talking about the man’s influence on them and others. Fuller is as gleefully hard-boiled as his films as he discusses his philosophy about life and cinema, which, not surprisingly, are the same.

There is an interview with actress Constance Towers done in 2007. She talks about how she met Fuller, her impressions of him and what it was like working on his films, most notably, Shock Corridor.

Finally, included is a theatrical trailer.

On The Naked Kiss DVD, there is an interview with Samuel Fuller from the French television program Cinema Cinemas in 1987. He looks over old photographs of himself and recounts colorful anecdotes about his life and working on various films.

“The South Bank Show: Sam Fuller” is a 30-minute interview from a British talk show from 1983. He is interviewed in his home in a room jam-packed with books and screenplays, many of which were never filmed.

There is an interview with actress Constance Towers done in 2007. She recounts her parents’ reaction to playing a prostitute in The Naked Kiss. She also talks about the film’s dynamic opening and how it was achieved. This is an excellent interview and she is an engaging subject.

Also included is an interview with Fuller for Cineastes de Notre Temps, a French T.V. show in 1967. There is some fantastic vintage footage of the man talking about his life and films.

Finally, included is a theatrical trailer.

 

DVD of the Week: America Lost & Found: The BBS Story

In the 1960s, film producer Bert Schneider and film director Bob Rafelson expressed an interest in movie production but both men lacked experience so they use their connections in Hollywood to produce a pilot episode for a potential television series. The end result would The Monkees, an irreverent show done in the style of The Beatles film, A Hard Day’s Night (1964). The show was green-lit and became a pop culture sensation. While developing The Monkees, Schneider and Rafelson met Stephen Blauner who worked for the studio developing the show. They decided to take the money they made from The Monkees and finance a film that Dennis Hopper wanted to direct and star in with his friend Peter Fonda. That film would be Easy Rider (1969) and this counter-culture film became a huge hit both commercially and critically, sending shockwaves through Hollywood.

The Criterion Collection have released an incredible box set sampling some of the most intriguing, experimental, and just plain fascinating examples of BBS Production’s output. Two films that are included have never been released on home video before. This set is quite simply a must-have for any lover of American cinema during the 1970s.

To say Head (1968) is a cinematic oddity is an understatement. Intent at topping The Beatles at their own game, The Monkees appeared in a film that Bob Rafelson directed and co-wrote with none other than Jack Nicholson and that was even more experimental and avant garde than anything the Fab Four had done. The result was a strange, yet playful concert film fused with a trippy pop culture satire. It was a resounding commercial flop when fans realized that the film was not a rehash of The Monkees’ silly, conventional television show.

The opening track, “Porpoise Song,” with its psychedelic imagery, anticipates the British acid house movement by many years and quickly establishes that this isn’t going to be a traditional film by any stretch of the imagination. Gone is the bubblegum pop and in is the Sgt. Pepper’s-esque experimentation. At one point, the band members appear as dandruff in Victor Mature’s hair only to be swept up by a giant vacuum cleaner. Hell, Frank Zappa even shows up with a talking cow to give some sage advice. The Monkees, with Rafelson’s help, gleefully bit the hand that fed them and proceeded to deconstruct their image in a way that no pop group at their level of success had done before or since. Imagine if Justin Bieber decided to star in a film directed Darren Aronofsky.

The critical and commercial success of Easy Rider (1969) scared the hell out of the Hollywood studios at the time of its release. Executives thought that they knew what the public wanted to see: safe comedies like Pillow Talk (1959) or the Frankie and Annette beach party movies. Along came this counter-culture film that featured contemporary rock ‘n’ roll music, two hippie protagonists and a nihilistic ending. And audiences loved it. Easy Rider ushered in the last great decade of American movies in the ‘70s.

After selling their stash of cocaine, Billy (Hopper) and Wyatt (Fonda) decide to ride their motorcycles from California to Florida (by way of the South) where they plan to live off the money. They travel the back roads of American and encounter all sorts of people: suspicious small-townsfolk, an oppressive sheriff and a rancher and his large family who invite them to a meal. The deeper they go into the South, the more resistance they meet because of how they look.

Easy Rider is a fantastic snapshot of the times. It signaled the end of the not-so idyllic ‘60s, where having long hair could deny you a room in a motel because the manager didn’t like the way you look. Time running out is a constant theme throughout Easy Rider. When Billy and Wyatt start their journey, Wyatt throws away his watch. Later on, he finds a discarded pocket watch just before they leave the commune. Also, as they are leaving, the hitchhiker they picked up warns Wyatt that time is running out. It eerily foreshadows the film’s disturbing finale and gives a feeling of impending doom that hangs over the entire film.

Five Easy Pieces (1970) is one of those complex character studies that typified some of the best American films from the 1970s. Bobby Dupea (Nicholson) is a former piano prodigy who spends his days working on an oilrig with his best friend Elton (Bush). As Bill Murray would later say in Stripes (1981), he’s “part of a lost and restless generation.” He’s someone who doesn’t suffer fools gladly which makes one wonder why he lives with Rayette (Black), a nice enough person but clearly not Bobby’s intellectual equal and he barely tolerates her needy behavior. One gets the feeling that Bobby is punishing himself.

He is a restless soul as evident in a fascinating scene where, frustrated at being stuck in a traffic jam on the interstate, he gets out of his car and starts playing the piano on a back of a nearby truck. Bobby wants to fit in – hence the blue-collar employment – but he keeps sabotaging his jobs and relationships with an acute self-awareness and his rejection of familial responsibilities. This is a slice of life film whose story doesn’t begin properly until 30 minutes in when Bobby finds out that his estranged father is ill and decides to take road trip to see him. Nicholson delivers a brilliant, gritty performance that would typify a lot of his work in the ‘70s. He’s not afraid to play an unlikable guy who treats those around him poorly. Bobby is full of anger – at the world, at others and at himself.

Drive, He Said (1970) marked the directorial debut of Jack Nicholson. By this point in his career, he had already tried his hand at screenwriting and, of course, acting, so directing seemed like the next logical step. The film concerns the relationship between Hector Bloom (Tepper), a talented college basketball player, and his increasingly radical roommate Gabriel (Margotta). The first thing that strikes one about this film is how topical it is as it deals frankly with sex and nudity (both male and female) – something that was being explored explicitly at the time and how politicized college campuses had become because of the Vietnam War, the civil rights movement, and so on.

In A Safe Place (1971), Tuesday Weld plays a beautiful free spirit in this whimsical experimental film. Scenes often cut abruptly to others and the film lacks a concrete story but is anchored by a strong performance by Weld. Along for the ride is Orson Welles as a mysterious magician who performs several tricks. The lack of a linear narrative can make this a frustrating experiment for some. In some respects, it’s a snapshot of its time and could never be made now.

Made in the early ‘70s, The Last Picture Show (1971) firmly established director Peter Bogdanovich as one of the premiere American filmmakers of that decade. It is also his undisputed masterpiece in a wildly uneven career. Based on the novel of the same name by Larry McMurtry, the film is a lament for the absence of simpler times and a simpler way of life. It’s set in a dusty Texas town in the early 1950s with the focus on three aimless teenagers: Sonny (Bottoms), Duane (Bridges) and Jacy (Shepherd). Sonny and Duane play for the local high school football team and endure constant criticism from their elders for their poor play. Social life for the teens revolves around the small town’s lone movie theater. Our three teen protagonists are bored and can’t wait to get out of their town where nothing ever happens.

Timothy Bottoms, Jeff Bridges and Cybill Shepherd were all young, up-and-coming actors at the time and are excellent in their respective roles. It is easy to see why an actor like Bridges went on to become such a versatile thespian. Even this early on in his career he displays an uncanny knack for embodying a character. Bogdanovich does a good job with this material and the rich, textured black and white cinematography, coupled with the run-down Texas town, feels like it could exist in the same world as the characters in Hud (1963), another film based on a McMurtry novel.

Bob Rafelson reunited with Jack Nicholson for another tale about disillusioned and disaffected Americans with The King of Marvin Gardens (1972). Like their best collaborations, it’s a character study, exploring the relationship between two estranged brothers. David (Nicholson) is a depressed radio show host in Philadelphia. One day, he receives a phone call from his scam artist brother Jason (Dern) who is stuck in a jail in Atlantic City. Once he gets out, Jason ropes David in on a real estate scam. The gregarious older sibling makes it out to be too good to be true and that’s because it is.

Jack Nicholson is fascinatingly cast against type as a reserved, button-downed intellectual. David is a quiet, responsible person, which is in sharp contrast to Bruce Dern’s motor-mouthed Jason, a guy always on the make. He’s a consummate bullshit artist and the cynical David sees right through his hustle. The King of Marvin Gardens is an intriguing snapshot of an Atlantic City that doesn’t exist anymore. At the time, it was in decline but all of the old architecture was still gloriously intact and Rafelson shows it off to the degree that it is almost another character in the film. It’s interesting to note that the film’s offbeat rhythm anticipates Vincent Gallo’s Buffalo ’66 (1998) complete with a woman dancing by herself in a spotlight. Dern and Nicholson play well off each other and are believable as brothers. They have a familiar short hand and get on each other’s nerves much like real siblings do.

Special Features:

On the Head DVD is an audio commentary by The Monkees – Micky Dolenz, Davy Jones, Michael Nesmith, Peter Tork. Rather appropriately, they talk about how they got their own television show and then the film. They are all pretty candid about how badly the film performed at the time and how it was their attempt to trash the image of the band from the show.

“From The Monkees to Head” is an interview with director Bob Rafelson. He talks about the genesis of the T.V. show and how The Beatles influenced it with A Hard Day’s Night. He goes on to talk about how the show led to the film and how everyone around him told him not to make it.

“BBS: A Time for Change” is a 30-minute featurette on BBS, an independent production company that existed from the late 1960s to the early 1970s. This is an excellent look at the genesis of this company and its place in cinematic history.

There are screen tests for all four Monkees that were done before the T.V. show. They were integrated into the pilot episode and helped launch the show. Their personalities really come out in this footage. We also see two of The Monkees paired up with two other guys that never made the final cut.

“The Monkees on The Hy Lit Show, 1968” is a rare T.V. appearance by the band to promote Head. It takes place next to a boxing ring (?!) and it is interesting to see them try and explain their film.

“Promotion” includes several theatrical trailers, T.V spots and radio spots for the film. Also included is a collection of stills and behind-the-scenes photographs.

On the Easy Rider disc, there is an audio commentary by co-writer and director Dennis Hopper that was recorded in 2009. He kicks things off by talking about the genesis of the film. He also talks about his motivation for making the film and what he was trying to say with it. He points out bits of dialogue and visual inserts that were improvised. There are several lulls throughout as Hopper tends to get caught up in watching the film.

Also included is a 1995 commentary by Hopper, Peter Fonda and production manager Paul Lewis. This is a much livelier track as everyone shares filming anecdotes like Phil Spector lending his limousine and bodyguard to the film. They also point out where various scenes were shot and how also just how stoned Jack Nicholson was during the famous campfire sequence.

There are two trailers.

The second disc starts off with a 30-minute BBC2 documentary entitled, “Born to be Wild”. It features Hopper, Fonda, Karen Black and cinematographer Laszlo Kovacs. Hopper and Fonda talk briefly about how Roger Corman taught them to make a film fast and cheap. Of course, they address the casting of Nicholson and how Hopper didn’t see him in the role. Everyone tells some good filming anecdotes in this highly enjoyable extra.

Carried over from the 35^th Anniversary Edition is “Easy Rider: Shaking the Cage,” an hour-long retrospective documentary featuring new interviews with Fonda, Hopper, Seymour Cassel (who worked on the crew) and Black. Hopper says that the film was an attempt to counter the mainstream fluff like the Frankie and Annette beach party movies that ignored sex, drugs and contemporary rock ‘n’ roll. This is a top-notch look at all the wild stories of filming Easy Rider, including the infamous Mardi Gras shoot.

“Hopper and Fonda at Cannes” features a segment from French T.V. of Fonda and Hopper at the 1969 Cannes Film Festival with their film and they briefly talk about it.

Finally, there is an interview with Steve Blauner, one of the founders of BBS. He talks about the genesis of the company and about their start in T.V., creating The Monkees. He points out that the money from the show paid for Easy Rider.

If you own the 35^th Anniversary Edition of the film you might want to hold on to as the commentary that Hopper does on it is not included, nor is the excellent BFI Modern Classics book on Easy Rider by Lee Hill or the bonus CD with select songs from the film.

The Five Easy Pieces disc starts off with an audio commentary by director Bob Rafelson and interior designer Toby Rafelson. Toby points out that the entire film was shot on practical locations. Originally, she didn’t want to do the film but Bob convinced her when he told that he was going to use their own furniture (!). By keeping it under budget and on time, he had final cut and could also cast whomever he wanted. Naturally, Bob talks about working with Nicholson on this engaging track.

“Soul Searching in Five Easy Pieces” features an interview with Rafelson where he talks about the film’s development. He was nervous about doing Five Easy Pieces because it was the first time he worked with actual, serious actors. He had written two screenplays but didn’t like them. He showed them to screenwriter Carol Eastman and she threw them out and wrote her own.

“BBStory” is a 2009, 46-minute documentary about BBS Productions and features the likes of Rafelson, Peter Bogdanovich, Jack Nicholson, Karen Black, and several others. It starts off with the social and political conditions that gave birth to the company. The studio system was collapsing and BBS made films that reflected the times that people were living in.

“Bob Rafelson at AFI” features excerpts from an audio recording of Rafelson speaking at the American Film Institute. He talks about his career and the films he made for BBS.

Finally, there are two teaser trailers and one full-length trailer.

Drive, He Said starts off with “A Cautionary Tale of Campus Revolution and Sexual Freedom,” a featurette where Jack Nicholson, Bruce Dern and co-producer Harry Gittes talk about making this film. It was about college campus revolution and at one point during filming a real riot broke out on the campus they were at. They went ahead and filmed it without permission. Nicholson talks about shooting the basketball sequences and how he cast actual players.

Also included is a trailer.

A Safe Place includes an audio commentary by director Henry Jaglom. He points out that the film was originally a play starring Karen Black. By adapting it into a film he wanted to make it more abstract, exploring the internal nature of Tuesday Weld’s character. Jaglom is quite eloquent and engaging on this track.

“Henry Jaglom Finds A Safe Place” sees the filmmaker talking about the influence of improvisational theater and the New Wave of European cinema. He was interested in creating stories about the inner lives of women.

“Notes on the New York Film Festival” sees Jaglom and Peter Bogdanovich talk with film critic Molly Haskell about The Last Picture Show and A Safe Place in 1971. It’s great to see them all in their prime talking so confidently about their work. The two directors banter playfully with each other in this enjoyable extra.

Also included are outtakes of Orson Welles blowing his lines and four screen tests.

There is a trailer as well.

The Last Picture Show includes an audio commentary by director Peter Bogdanovich and actors Cybill Shepherd, Randy Quaid, Cloris Leachman and Frank Marshall. The director explains why he shot the film in black and white and says that the town was divided about them filming there. He goes into the casting choices with some interesting stories. Shepherd says that she never acted before doing that film and gives her impressions of working on it as do the other participants.

Bogdanovich returns for another commentary, this time by himself. There is some overlap from the previous track making it kind of redundant. Not surprisingly, he dwells on the nuts and bolts of filmmaking and discusses its themes.

Also included are two trailers.

The second disc includes “The Last Picture Show: A Look Back,” an hour-long documentary made in 1999 with most of the key cast members and Bogdanovich and author Larry McMurtry recalling their experiences of making the film. It takes us through the genesis and filming to its reception. There is a fair amount of crossover of information from the commentaries but if you’re not into listening to commentaries then this is for you.

“A Discussion with Filmmaker Peter Bogdanovich” sees him talking about how he got into show business, what directors influenced him and, of course, The Last Picture Show.

“Picture This” is a documentary about Bogdanovich and key cast members reunited to make the sequel, Texasville (1990) while also talking about their experiences making the original film. It also paints a fascinating portrait of the people that lived in the town.

Also included are 16mm screen tests of several actors in the film.

There is location footage that Bogdanovich shot while scouting places to shoot for the film.

“Truffaut on the New Hollywood” features filmmaker Francois Truffaut talking briefly about the New Hollywood directors in 1972 on French T.V. He also offers high praise for The Last Picture Show.

For The King of Marvin Gardens, there is a selected-scene commentary by Bob Rafelson. He talks about some of the stylistic choices he made. After Five Easy Pieces, he wanted to make a more abstract film. He talks about the film’s style and comments on the characters.

“Reflections of a Philosopher King” sees Rafelson and actress Elle Burstyn talking about the characters in the film and how they came to be and evolved over the course of filming.

“Afterthoughts” features Rafelson, cinematographer Laszlo Kovacs and actor Bruce Dern talking about the style of the film and how it was achieved and why. There is some overlap from the previous extras but Dern and Kovacs’ comments are quite good and funny as hell.

“About Bob Rafelson” is brief text biography of the man’s career.

Finally, there is a trailer.

The Endless Summer

The Endless Summer (1966) is considered by many surfers and surfing aficionados to be the Citizen Kane (1941) of surfing films. While it certainly wasn’t the first, for its time Bruce Brown’s film was the most ambitious, well-made and popular one of its kind. The Endless Summer not only changed the general public’s view of surfing but it also paved the way for countless films about the sport. However, none of them have quite been able to convey the carefree attitude and sheer joy of surfing like Brown’s film – not even his own sequel, The Endless Summer II (1994) or the film by his son Dana entitled, Step Into Liquid (2003).

The first shot of The Endless Summer says it all: the silhouette of two surfers with their boards against a setting sun. Brown follows this up with a shot of the surfers sitting on their boards in the ocean drenched in the orangish gold of the setting sun. Right from the get-go, with these shots and a montage of the ocean and the surf all bathed in this incredible sun, Brown establishes that this film will be an unabashed romantic take on surfing. Even the laid-back surf music by The Sandals conveys a hazy, lazy summer vibe drenched in romanticism. The film’s authenticity is quickly established with a title card that reads, “Filmed in the actual locations around the world.” In other words, there will be no use of cheesy looking rear projection a la Gidget (1959) or the Frankie and Annette beach movies. The Endless Summer is a film made by and for surfers.

Brown’s voiceover narration starts off perfectly as he says, “Summer means many different things to different people...” and rattles off a few hobbies that people like to do before yelping out the word, “surfing” excitedly and the film cuts to a shot of a guy wiping out on a wave. Brown quickly establishes a playful tone that never mocks its subject but instead conveys a genuine affection for the sport. In a few minutes, he covers a few styles of surfing while also conveying some of the basic lingo while identifying a few of its superstars. Brown does this all so effortlessly that you aren’t even aware of it because you’re too busy being entertained.

The Endless Summer takes us through some choice surfing spots in Hawaii and California and pretty soon Brown lays out his film’s premise: “Many surfers ride summer and winter but the ultimate thing for most of us would be to have an endless summer. The warm water and waves without the summer crowds of California. The only way to do this is by traveling around the world following the summer season as it moves around the world.” And so, the film documents two surfers from California – Robert August and Mike Hynson – who do just that. Brown introduces them in rather cheeky fashion as they read up for their first destination, Africa. August is shown reading a book entitled, Shark Attack: Field Dressings Illustrated, while Hynson is reading a Malaria manual. These books are obviously mock-ups done for comic effect.

August and Hynson arrive in Dakar, Senegal where Brown gripes about the $30/day each room rate (?!) at the government-sanctioned hotel that they’re forced to stay at. Fortunately, they find some tasty waves and there is a funny bit as August and Hynson try to explain to a taxi cab driver how to store their surfboards in his car. Many of the natives had never seen surfing before and the two young surfers were breaking new ground. Brown’s narration manages to be simultaneously informative and entertaining. For example, he points out how you could die in 15 minutes after stepping on a Stone Fish. He tempers this with shots of beautiful scenery, like a spectacular view of Cape Town from atop Cable Mountain. August and Hynson meet up with local surfers in Cape Town and travel along the Cape Peninsula.

One of things that strikes you about Brown’s voiceover narration is his way with words, like when he talks about a California surfing spot known as the Wedge: “Few people ride belly boards at the Wedge. Body surfing is bad enough because when you get wiped out it feels like your arms, legs and head are all going different directions. Add a belly board to that mess and it’s like an extra piece of shrapnel in a hand grenade.” As you would expect, there are lots of great slow motion shots of surfers catching fantastic rides on some really beautiful waves. Back in Africa, the guys meet some colorful characters, like a man named Terrence who catches animals for zoos and milks snakes for their venom. He is willing to drive hundreds of miles out of his way to take the two surfers to a sweet location for surfing.

Next, August and Hynson go to Australia where we see the locals riding catamarans and Brown gets some breathtaking point-of-view shots of what it’s like to sail one. They pet kangaroos in Perth and search for waves all over Western Australia but to no avail so they go to Bells Beach near Melbourne and find out that the surfing is better during the winter season. The guys go fishing in New Zealand and surfing in Ragland on the west coast, enjoying extremely long rides.

Bruce Brown started surfing in the 1950s. He took still photographs to show his mother what the draw of the sport was. While serving in the United States Navy on Oahu years later, he used an 8 mm movie camera to photograph surfers from California. Once Brown got back there, he edited his footage into an hour-long film. Surfer Dale Velzy showed it at his San Clemente shop, charging 25 cents for admission. He bought Brown a 16 mm camera and together they raised $5,000 to make Slippery When Wet (1958), Brown’s first “real” surf film.

In the winter of 1958, Brown went back to Hawaii to film the North Shore’s big surf. On the plane ride over, the novice filmmaker read a book about how to make movies. Brown said, “I never had formal training in filmmaking and that probably worked to my advantage.” By 1962, he had spent five years making one surf film per year. He would shoot during the fall and winter, edit during the spring and show the finished product during the summer. Brown remembered, “I felt if I could take two years to make a film, maybe I could make something special.” To do this, he would need a bigger budget then he had on his previous films. To raise the $50,000 budget he needed, Brown took the best footage from his four previous films and made Water-Logged (1962).

While editing The Endless Summer, Brown was contacted by the band The Sandals who were hoping to sell one of their songs to him for use in the film. He was so impressed by their music that he wanted to use several of their songs. The group even toured with Brown and his film, providing live backing for his live narration. Not surprisingly, The Endless Summer was a big hit on the local west coast surfing circuit where it debuted at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium during the summer of 1964 and played to sold-out crowds for a week. Paul Allen, the man responsible for arranging shows and coordinating publicity, thought that they could attract a national distributor. Brown took The Endless Summer to several Hollywood studio distributors but was rejected because they didn’t think it would have mainstream appeal. So, he took the film to where he felt would be the toughest proving ground: Wichita, Kansas in January. Moviegoers lined up in snowy weather in the middle of winter where the film went on to sell out its entire two-week run. Distributors still weren’t convinced and so Brown rented out the Kuyps Bay Theatre in New York City where his film ran successfully for a year. The Endless Summer was finally released nationally in 1966 where it proved to be a big hit both commercially and critically.

The Endless Summer faced with an uphill battle in the theater of public opinion. At the time, the national media regarded surfers as “beach bums” that were “anti-social” and “drug-induced.” Even one of the most influential magazines in helping shape public opinion in the 1960s, Time, jumped on the bandwagon with a January 1964 feature article entitled, “Shooting the Tube,” that linked surfing with drugs. To whit, “riding a board through the surf is a little like going on hashish.” Once middle America read these words, their mind was made up about surfing culture. However, Brown’s film changed all of this with its fun, positive image of surfing and surfers. August and Hynson weren’t hurting anyone or anything. They were just looking for the perfect wave.

The Endless Summer was well-received by critics of the day. Time magazine wrote, “Brown leaves analysis of the surf-cult mystique to seagoing sociologists, but demonstrates quite spiritedly that some of the brave souls mistaken for beachniks are, in fact, converts to a difficult, dangerous and dazzling sport.” Roger Ebert praised the film’s “beautiful photography” and compared it to Hollywood’s attempts at depict surfing culture when he wrote, “[it] almost makes you wonder if Hollywood hasn’t been trying too hard.” In his review for The New York Times, Robert Alden wrote, “the subject matter itself – the challenge and the joy of a sport that is part swimming, part skiing, part sky-diving and part Russian roulette – is buoyant fun.” Brown was pleasantly surprised by the critical reaction to his film: “For some reason the real entrenched film critics seemed to like it, maybe because it was different from what they were used to seeing.” The Endless Summer went on to gross more than $30 million. Not bad for a film that cost only $50,000 to make.

There is a wandering spirit, a searching for the perfect wave all over the world that makes The Endless Summer so enjoyable to watch. This isn’t just a series of montages of people surfing wave after wave. Brown has actually crafted a narrative that is part travelogue as he gives us a taste of exotic cultures all over the world. He also managed to craft a surfing film that is easily understood and can be enjoyed by the uninitiated while still having plenty of stuff for the seasoned surfer to enjoy which probably explains part of the film’s enduring appeal. The Endless Summer went on to launch and influence a whole cottage industry of surfing films, many of which did not impress Brown all that much who felt that they were “all bang-bang-bang, it’s all industrial. It’s all quick cuts and loud music.”

The pics used in this post come from Bruce Brown's official site which I highly recommend checking out if you're into surfing and surf films.