An Eye for an Eye (1981)

AN EYE FOR AN EYE (1981) ***
An Eye for an Eye is one of the better Chuck Norris movies and that’s because it fits the bill for what helps define a better Chuck Norris movie — the quality of the supporting cast, something it has in common with Lone Wolf McQuade, Code of Silence, The Delta Force, and Silent Rage.

Let’s see, we have Christopher Lee, Richard Roundtree, Matt Clark, Mako, Maggie Cooper, Rosalind Chao, Professor Toru Tanaka, Stuart Pankin, Terry Kiser and Mel Novak, and they’re basically all good in their standard hero and villain roles.

Lee (1922-2015) enjoyed a truly marvelous career that intersected with Sherlock Holmes, Dracula, James Bond, Star Wars, Ichabod Crane, Kharis, Victor Frankenstein, Gandalf, and Hercules. Never mind acting alongside Slim Pickens and Toshiro Mifune in Steven Spielberg’s 1941. Often playing the villain, Lee had the ability to maximize his minimal screen time and An Eye for an Eye benefits from his presence.

Roundtree made his fame as the title character in Shaft and sequels Shaft’s Big Score and Shaft in Africa, and so I must admit to being somewhat amused that he’s played a cop so often throughout his career. It was both amusing and frustrating to watch his police superior character bust Norris’ chops. I told my wife during An Eye for an Eye, ‘At least he’s not killed by a winged serpent in this movie.’

Cooper plays Norris’ obligatory romantic interest and she gets a rare female nude scene in a Norris movie. Writing on Silent Rage, I noted that it was refreshing to see somebody’s chest other than Norris and I second that emotion after An Eye for an Eye.

Tanaka’s dossier begins, ‘Was an American professional wrestler, professional boxer, college football player, soldier, actor, and martial artist.’ What did the Professor earn his degree in? Judging by An Eye for an Eye and the vast majority of his filmography and his professions, it’s safe to say Tanaka earned a doctorate in pain. Like others in the An Eye for an Eye cast, he’s good at maximizing minimal screen time and in his case, minimal dialogue. Norris vs. Tanaka proved to be one of the film’s greatest highlights.

Before she went to sleep, I told my wife that Norris’ partner will be dead very shortly and it did not help the character’s survival odds being played by Terry Kiser, an actor best known for playing a corpse. Bernie from Weekend at Bernie’s and Weekend at Bernie’s II ring any bells? Yeah, I still argue that dead Bernie still shows more life than nominal leads Andrew McCarthy and Jonathan Silverman. For a man later hacked and whacked by Jason Voorhees, Kiser’s character died spectacularly in An Eye for an Eye — shot in the chest, crushed between not one but two cars, and caught on fire. His death haunts Norris’ Sean Kane during two flashback scenes.

An Eye for an Eye director Steve Carver died in January 2021 of complications from COVID-19 and he was 75. Carver also directed arguably Norris’ best picture, Lone Wolf McQuade, and the infamous 1974 Roger Corman / New World Productions films The Arena and Big Bad Mama. No doubt that Pam Grier and Angie Dickinson, as well as William Shatner, prepared Carver for Chuck Norris.

Shaft (1971)

SHAFT

SHAFT (1971) Three-and-a-half stars

A whole new generation of fans discovered Isaac Hayes (1942-2008) through his work for Trey Parker and Matt Stone on “South Park.”

I’m talking about Chef, Hayes’ animated alter ego, his songs like “Chocolate Salty Balls” and “Love Gravy,” his lines “Hello there, children” and “Damn, woman, I just gave you sweet loving five minutes ago” (oh, for just one game of South Park pinball right about now), and his overall cool until everything went all screwy there at the end between Mr. Hayes and the boys.

I went back in time and delved through Hayes’ previous work.

At some point in the late 20th or early 21st century, I watched Gordon Parks’ SHAFT for the first time, roughly the same time as I watched the John Singleton remake, er, sequel starring Samuel Jackson and featuring Christian Bale, Toni Collette, and Jeffrey Wright. It would have been nice if the suburban multiplex paired the ‘71 and ‘00 pictures together, but, no, of course not, and my ears still feel like they’re ringing from the 110-minute action spectacular. Nigel Tufner must have been the projectionist that day, because it was cranked up to 11 x 11.

(For crying out loud, why do we need three movies simply titled SHAFT? This is just as bad as HALLOWEEN.)

I vastly prefer the ‘71 SHAFT over any of the later SHAFT films (I, of course, have not seen the 2019 one) and there’s not one scene in either ‘70s sequel, BIG SCORE and GOES TO AFRICA, or the 2000 sequel or the rest of the first picture itself that even approaches the opening five minutes. Talk about iconic.

It all starts with the multifaceted sounds of the modern day big city rumble, then it moves on to the sights. Burt Lancaster and Telly Savalas in THE SCALPHUNTERS and George Peppard and Dean Martin in ROUGH NIGHT IN JERICHO. Robert Redford, Michael Pollard, and Lauren Hutton in LITTLE FAUSS … never mind, the first 42nd Street showing of HE AND SHE and second big hit THE ANIMAL. There’s more hype, then the first notes of Hayes’ “Theme from Shaft” hit us.

Nearly 45 seconds into the movie, we’re given our introduction to the title character with a close-up of the man coming out from the subway and we’re already interested. He walks across six lanes of traffic and flashes an obscene gesture and shouts “Up yours!” at somebody who had the audacity to honk their horn. We’re interested some more, as we observe what must be just another day in the life of this angry black man.

We see more commercialization and Shaft walks through a crowd of picketers. One sign: “I GOT MY JOB THROUGH THE New York Times.” Another: “WANT YOUR SEX LIFE PUBLISHED?” One more: “I LOST MY JOB THRU Fidelifacts.” Just before making his way through picketers, Shaft flashes his badge at a street peddler, who promptly skedaddles to somewhere else. “Theme from Shaft” has been playing this whole time and picking up momentum as the opening credits scroll and our title character strolls.

It’s been about 150 seconds into the number before Hayes matter-of-factly asks “Who’s the black private dick that’s a sex machine to all the chicks?” Backing vocalists Pat Lewis, Rose Williams, Mitchell Butler, and Telma Hopkins answer “Shaft” and Hayes replies “Damn right.” We are hooked, that’s damn right for sure.

“Theme from Shaft” won the 1972 Academy Award for Best Original Song, and it’s a stone cold classic especially in its single form. We can file the opening scene in SHAFT under “Great Opening Scenes.”

Hayes wrote the lyrics, handled lead vocals, made the arrangements, and played the keyboards. Lester Snell (electric piano), David Becker (viola), Charles Pitts (guitar), Michael Toles (guitar), Marc “Dr. Love” Davis (guitar solo), James Alexander (bass guitar), Richard “Johnny” Davis (trumpet), John Fonville (flute), Gary Jones (congas), and Willie Hall (drums) all played their parts masterfully.

Despite the fact that none of the remaining 90 or so minutes can measure up against the opening five, SHAFT affords one additional pleasures. That should be of little surprise, since this material puts a black spin on James Bond and Mike Hammer.

White author Ernest Tidyman (1928-84) adapted his own 1970 novel for the screen and Tidyman became a household name in Hollywood with SHAFT and THE FRENCH CONNECTION both major hits in 1971. Tidyman won the Academy Award for Best Adapted Screenplay for THE FRENCH CONNECTION, a Best Picture winner.

Tidyman, who FRENCH CONNECTION producer Philip D’Antoni thought would be black, did not like the SHAFT rewrite by John D.F. Black, a writer hired by Parks. Despite his displeasure, Tidyman returned to write the sequel also directed by Parks (1912-2006). The former newspaperman wrote more Shaft novels, “Shaft Among the Jews” (1972), “Shaft’s Big Score” (1972), “Shaft Has a Ball” (1973), “Goodbye, Mr. Shaft” (1973), “Shaft’s Carnival of Killers” (1974), and “The Last Shaft” (1975). Tidyman also wrote HIGH PLAINS DRIFTER and the early Chuck Norris pic A FORCE OF ONE.

Former model turned actor Richard Roundtree makes such a strong impression as Shaft that he’s been called the first black action hero. Not a bad screen debut. Hayes’ opening number greatly assists Roundtree, his character, and us audience members because it paints a portrait of Shaft’s basic personality and makes him a bit larger-than-life. We like this character a great deal already within the film’s first five minutes. We applaud him, especially when he sticks it to the man. Every now and then, all of us wish that we could stick it to the man, just like John Shaft.

Q: The Winged Serpent (1982)

Q: THE WINGED SERPENT (1982) Three-and-a-half stars
I admit loud and proud a weakness for time travel, robots, monsters, and mad scientists.

Maybe weakness is the wrong choice of word. How about predilection?

Q: THE WINGED SERPENT definitely fits the bill for monsters, a grand homage to the great monster movies of the 1950s.

It’s directed, written, and produced by Larry Cohen (1941-2019) and it’s financed by Samuel Z. Arkoff (1918-2001) as the first release from Arkoff International Pictures.

Of course, Arkoff was involved with Q.

Arkoff’s producer credits include THE PHANTOM FROM 10,000 LEAGUES, IT CONQUERED THE WORLD, THE SHE-CREATURE, INVASION OF THE SAUCER MAN, THE AMAZING COLOSSAL MAN, HOW TO MAKE A MONSTER, and REPTILICUS.

Arkoff even provided a great quote in a conversation between the producer and critic Rex Reed (relayed by Roger Ebert).

Reed: “Sam! I just saw THE WINGED SERPENT! What a surprise! All that dreck — and right in the middle of it, a great Method performance by Michael Moriarty!”

Arkoff: “The dreck was my idea.”

That brings us to Michael Moriarty, whose performance elevates Q to another level.

He plays Jimmy Quinn (though he’s not the “Q” of the film’s title), a cheap dime store hood with aspirations of being a jazz pianist.

Quinn’s like Jeffrey Combs’ Herbert West in RE-ANIMATOR and Thomas Wilson’s Biff Tannen (and various historical offshoots) in the BACK TO THE FUTURE series.

In other words, he’s a lovable asshole or we love hating Jimmy Quinn.

Personally, I love what he does after his discovery of the Quetzalcoatl (the real source for the film’s title) responsible for several deaths.

A pair of hoods lean on Quinn after his part in a botched diamond heist and he leads them to the Chrysler Building, nesting ground of the Quetzalcoatl. The hoods don’t know that.

Quinn’s priceless reaction to the fate of the hoods: “Eat ‘em, eat ‘em! Crunch! Crunch!”

Then Quinn comes up with a plan, a ransom deal for New York City authorities: $1 million in cold, hard cash in exchange for divulging the nest location. “All my life I’ve been a nobody and right now I’ve got the chance of being somebody important,” Quinn said.

Seems like Quinn served as New York City’s preparation for the Ghostbusters, especially dealing with one Peter Venkman.

Guess we’ve covered a little bit of the plot.

If you’re not satisfied, though, I found this plot summary on Amazon: “Its name is Quetzalcoatl, a dragon-like Aztec god that is summoned to modern-day Manhattan by a mysterious cult. But just call it Q … because that is all you’ll be able to say before it tears you apart!”

Okay, that’s enough plot.

Moriarty headlines a very capable cast also including David Carradine, Richard Roundtree, and Candy Clark.

Carradine and Roundtree play NYPD detectives, who almost matter-of-factly react to a winged serpent and ritualistic Aztec murder.

Just another day on the beat.

That’s the beauty of a Larry Cohen film.

In the opening paragraph, I mentioned a taste for time travel, robots, monsters, and mad scientists. I should go back and put “stop-motion” in front of monsters, loving everything from Willis O’Brien’s pioneering work in KING KONG (1933) to Ray Harryhausen’s grand finale CLASH OF THE TITANS (1981).

Randall William Cook and David Allen worked on Q, a deliberate throwback to O’Brien and Harryhausen.

Between Moriarty’s performance and a stop-motion winged serpent, as well as Cohen’s work both writing and directing, Q rates as one of the great not-so-guilty pleasures.