Bats, Bats, Bats & Jaws with Claws: Nightwing, Prophecy, Grizzly

BATS, BATS, BATS & JAWS WITH CLAWS: NIGHTWING, PROPHECY, GRIZZLY
Distinguished character actor David Warner (1941-2022) almost redeems large portions of the 1979 killer vampire bat picture Nightwing, and he’s the reason that it rates out around two stars rather than one or possibly even worse.

Pardon the pun, but Warner truly bites into his dialogue and his monologues are the best moments in Nightwing. Phillip Payne comes across a little batty himself, more often delightfully so than not, and that batty quality would seem to come naturally with the territory of studying and killing plague-infested vampire bats.

The film’s best moments are definitely not the special effects and the vampire bat attack scenes, which almost had me laughing as much as The Bat People or Prophecy or perhaps the ultimate cinematic disaster disaster movie The Swarm.

Generally, I love the prerequisite genre scenes where the scientist explains the phenomenon on the rampage within the movie to a slack-jawed authority figure who usually downplays whatever threat it might be and decides to keep the park / town open.

It rarely ever lets me down, and I enjoyed Nightwing every time Phillip Payne goes all Dr. Sam Loomis on us about vampire bats.

Youngman Duran: It just doesn’t seem natural for a man to spend his life, his entire life, killing bats.

Phillip Payne: Not just bats. Vampire bats. I kill them because they’re evil. There’s a mutual grace and violence in all forms of nature; and each specie of live gives something in return for its own existence. All but one. The freak. The vampire bat alone is that specie. Have you ever seen one of their caves?

YD: No.

PP: I killed over 60,000 of them last year in Mexico. You really understand the presence of evil when you go into their caves. The smell of ammonia alone is enough to kill you. The floor of the cave is a foul syrup of digested blood. And the bats: up high, hanging upside down, rustling, fighting, mating, sending constant messages, waiting for the light to fade, hungry for blood, coaxing the big females to wake up and flex their nightwings to lead the colony out across the land, homing in on any living thing; cattle, sheep, dogs, children, anything with warm blood. And they feast, drinking the blood and pissing ammonia. I kill them because they’re the quintessence of evil. To me, nothing else exists. The destruction of vampire bats is what I live for.

Alrighty then.

Almost none of the small pleasures from Nightwing are to be found in Prophecy, films released only a week apart during June 1979.

Prophecy alternates between a serious, more ambitious movie about ecological concerns and land rights in a dispute between Native Americans and the polluting paper mill, domestic scenes involving a husband (Robert Foxworth) and his wife (Talia Shire), and silly monster attack scenes that belong in something like Food of the Gods or Bigfoot, two bad monster movies from earlier in the ’70s.

Rather, I meant laughably bad monster attack scenes.

None of the elements gel well together in Prophecy.

Prophecy gets awful preachy at times, maybe not too much of a surprise given the film’s title, and Foxworth’s Dr. Robert Verne makes for a rather lackluster and thus unlikable protagonist. Foxworth does not give Prophecy a jolt like Warner does in Nightwing, and his scientific explanatory scenes are pedestrian.

Dr. Verne and his wife Maggie do not have the relationship that, let’s see here, pugilist protagonist Rocky Balboa (Sylvester Stallone) and Adrian (Shire) do in Rocky and Rocky II, ironic considering that Rocky II and Prophecy were both released June 15, 1979.

Their domestic scenes are a drag, and I think less of Foxworth’s Dr. Verne from early on because of the way he treats his wife.

Veteran character actor Richard Dysart (1929-2015) gives the best performance in Prophecy, and it’s not even close. Dysart plays the role of the detestable paper mill company man Isely so effectively that it’s one of the film’s greatest disappointments when it cuts away from his graphic dismemberment by mercury mutant bear Katahdin late in the picture. We’ll have to settle instead for Dysart’s grisly death scene in John Carpenter’s The Thing.

The Katahdin we actually get in the finished product and the one in the promotional material (and dialogue) are not exactly one and the same, which hearkens Prophecy back to low-budget precursors like The Giant Claw and The Wasp Woman more than contemporaries like Alien and Dawn of the Dead, but without the fun of any of those movies.

Leonard Maltin described the monster as a giant salami, Isely said that it’s larger than a dragon with the eyes of a cat, Time reportedly said that it’s Smokey the Bear with an advanced acne condition, and Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert called it a cross between an earthworm and a bear (Siskel) and a grizzly bear and Godzilla (Ebert).

Given that it’s Kevin Peter Hall as the man in the monster suit, one might be tempted to call it a cross between Predator and Harry and the Hendersons.

Manbearpig!

Grizzly, a killer bear picture released three years before Prophecy, works a lot better than Prophecy because it succeeds at a much more modest level of ambition.

It’s required by law that every review mention Grizzly is a Jaws rip-off or we can go right on ahead and call it Jaws with Claws.

We have a law enforcement officer (park ranger), a military veteran (helicopter pilot), and a scientist (naturalist) on the hunt for a giant killer animal (grizzly bear). We also have a park supervisor who refuses to close down the national park despite a series of brutal deaths. The park supervisor allows hunters into the forest to hunt and kill the bear, while media converge on the scene for sensational coverage, but eventually our three main characters must try and do the deed themselves.

I honestly don’t mind too much that Grizzly follows the Jaws formula because Christopher George, Richard Jaeckel, and Andrew Prine are good in their roles and I care about them in their battle against a primal beast.

Honestly, it’s as simple as that, whereas I didn’t particularly care about the overwhelming majority of the human characters in Prophecy and did not care one way or another whether they lived or died just as long as the end credits rolled.

Grizzly, thankfully, is also not preachy, it’s endearing and entertaining on a basic level, and it’s a pleasant way to spend 90 minutes.

Granted, the three main actors and characters are not anywhere near the same level as Roy Scheider’s Sheriff Brody, Richard Dreyfuss’ Matt Hooper, and Robert Shaw’s Captain Quint, just like William Girdler’s no Steven Spielberg, but I still think Grizzly has earned a place right alongside such ’70s killer animal staples as Night of the Lepus, Frogs, Squirm, Kingdom of the Spiders, and Piranha.

Nightwing (1979) **; Prophecy (1979) *; Grizzly (1976) ***

The Invisible Man (2020)

THE INVISIBLE MAN (2020) *
I should have called the cops on The Invisible Man.

The latest remake of an old Universal Studios warhorse, The Invisible Man gives viewers two hours of domestic violence. That makes it a relentlessly unpleasant and positively joyless viewing experience, and definitely not what I expected from an Invisible Man movie. Obviously, it’s my problem that I entered The Invisible Man expecting a grand old entertainment and received something else that produced the barest minimum of entertainment value.

I know, I know, shame on me.

Recently, I watched The Invisible Woman, Invisible Agent, and The Invisible Man’s Revenge to complete the series of six Invisible Man pictures that began in 1933 with James Whale’s classic and ended in 1951 with Abbott and Costello Meet The Invisible Man. I give five of the six films positive reviews and they’re all entertaining in their own ways — yes, even The Invisible Woman has its moments, few and far between but nonetheless they’re visible.

Invisible Agent wisely took the series in a new direction — a different one from the wrong hard left turn made by The Invisible Woman — incorporating Nazis, Nazi spies, spying against Nazis, and Peter Lorre into the formula. It’s hard not to watch Invisible Agent and think Steven Spielberg loved the movie growing up and it later informed Raiders of the Lost Ark, especially Ronald Lacey’s Peter Lorre-like character.

The Invisible Man’s Revenge returns to the roots of the series and the title describes the plot.

Here’s the length of the first six Invisible Man pictures: 71 minutes, 81, 72, 81, 78, and 82, all well below the 124 minutes offered by the 2020 version.

However, the new Invisible Man contributes maybe five minutes of entertainment value and it’s one of those films I liked less and less as it traveled down a long and predictable road. The earlier Invisible Man films move along briskly, while this marvel of modern technology belabors everything to such a degree that a three-toed sloth dipped in molasses moves faster.

Aside from the invisibility hook and the Griffin surname for the title character and his slimy brother, the new Invisible Man has a lot more in common with the 1991 Julia Roberts battered woman hit Sleeping with the Enemy. By calling it The Invisible Man brand name, though, expectations are high for entertainment, but that’s not what it offers in the slightest so it set itself up for its own failure.

I generally distrust remakes, reboots, sequels, etc., and I am sure that many of us do in varying degrees. I love it when viewers of all demographics bitch and complain about old movies, how they’re crusty and slow-moving and not in color, but they’re plundered from on a regular basis most often with inferior storytelling craft by the new guard.

The Invisible Man director and writer Leigh Whannell previously brought us the first three Saw movies, and so the fact that his Invisible Man wallows in and lingers over domestic violence should be of little or no surprise. Whannell wrote the story or screenplay or both for all three, and starred as Adam Faulkner-Stanheight in Saw. I managed to mostly avoid the once seemingly interminable Saw series, catching only one of the seven films churned out by the foremost torture porn assembly line in seven years. For some unknown reason even to me, I watched Saw IV and hated just about every single millisecond of it. All these years later, I only remember thinking they should have called it Fuck with an exclamation point because that’s about the only dialogue used with any regularity.

Never fear, fans of Whannell and rehashes and Whannell rehashes, because Wolfman and Escape from New York are in pre-production.

Fuck!

Sequels Second to None: The Empire Strikes Back, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom

SEQUELS SECOND TO NONE: THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK, INDIANA JONES AND THE TEMPLE OF DOOM

Having recently watched THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK and INDIANA JONES AND THE TEMPLE OF DOOM for the first time in a movie theater, I have asked myself one tough question: Why are they my favorite Star Wars and Indiana Jones movies?

THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK, the second installment in George Lucas’ space opera series eventually taken over by the fine folks at Disney, has the best direction (Irvin Kershner), best writing (courtesy Leigh Brackett and Lawrence Kasdan), best acting, best environs (the icy planet Hoth, the swampy Dagobah, and Cloud City), and the characters display their greatest emotional range and depth. Yoda, Boba Fett, and Lando are iconic additions, especially Yoda. Only the very first STAR WARS (A NEW HOPE) even approaches EMPIRE and please just forget about the prequels (REVENGE OF THE SITH by far the best of them) and the entries post-Disney takeover. It seems like the majority of STAR WARS fans agree.

Meanwhile, I seem to be in the minority who prefer TEMPLE OF DOOM over RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK. I understand that it’s dark and disgusting, and that Kate Capshaw’s nightclub singer Willie Scott annoys the hell out of you with all that darn histrionic screaming that she does from the first reel to the very last. I grant all those points. Regardless, I prefer TEMPLE OF DOOM because it’s very dark and very disgusting, and yes, I do believe that it is one of the all-time best gross out movies. We’re talking such pleasantries as monkey brains, eels, snakes, bats, bugs, child slavery, heart removal, and bad, bad, bad men eaten by alligators. To be fair and honest, the Shanghai and Indian characters are grotesque caricatures even more disgusting than any of the creature and culinary discomforts, but then again so are the Nazis and Commies in the other Indiana Jones pictures. Understandably, though, India once banned TEMPLE OF DOOM.

TEMPLE OF DOOM does call to mind such classics as BLACK NARCISSUS, GUNGA DIN, THE STEEL HELMET (Short Round borrowed from Samuel Fuller’s 1951 Korean War picture), and THE GENERAL. Scott’s opening production number (Spielberg has long said that he’d love to do a musical and this scene and the jitterbug sequence in 1941 shows that he could make a very good even great one) clues us in on what’s exactly up the sleeves of director Steven Spielberg, screenwriters Willard Huyck and Gloria Katz, story writer Lucas, and gang. What’s that number called? “Anything Goes,” the Cole Porter standard. TEMPLE OF DOOM works because it is oversized and over-the-top like Spielberg’s earlier comedy 1941. Perhaps it is only fitting that Spielberg apparently likes 1941 and TEMPLE OF DOOM the least among his filmography. Does he recoil from their being so politically incorrect?

As far as Willie Scott goes, she epitomizes the sister or girlfriend or wife perpetually grossed out and disgusted by the shenanigans of all the boys surrounding her. I find that element fun. Yes, I do agree that Karen Allen’s Marion Ravenwood is a better match for Indiana Jones and it’s great they brought her character back for KINGDOM OF THE CRYSTAL SKULL. Scott remains more consistent throughout TEMPLE OF DOOM, though, whereas Marion switches between several modes and moods — just one of the boys, spitfire, damsel-in-distress, and wounded woman chief among them. I enjoy both characters, for different reasons. Capshaw’s performance and her character do not mar TEMPLE OF DOOM for me.

It’s been said numerous times before that Lucas endured a divorce around the time of the making of TEMPLE OF DOOM and that seeped into the movie — in the overall tone but specifically the Willie Scott character and the heart removal. Spielberg, two years after his divorce from actress Amy Irving, married Capshaw and they have been together nearly three decades.

It also must be said TEMPLE OF DOOM was my first Indiana Jones movie, because it was the only VHS tape she kept from a mid-1980s Christmas present from her children. Between that and her later acquisition, THE ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD, I must have thrilled on them 100 times. Maybe nostalgia and sentimentality for old movies, even older movies, grand adventure, brassy dames from the Midwest, and politically incorrect characters and gross out gags animates my overall affection for TEMPLE OF DOOM. (I watched RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK at the drive-in a couple weeks before TEMPLE OF DOOM. I passed on THE LAST CRUSADE for THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK.)

As I watched THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK in the Fort Cinema in the town where I attended high school and the first couple years of college, I periodically momentarily flashed back on how I must have first felt watching the movie some more than 35 years ago in the even smaller Southeast Kansas town Arcadia. I felt that way again, despite having seen EMPIRE 30-40-50 times.

Just one nagging thought occasionally spoiled the mood: We were not seeing the original theatrical version of EMPIRE, rather we had one of them dang blasted Special Editions that genius George Lucas masterminded in the mid-’90s for theatrical and home video release circa 1997 where he touched up some of the old school special effects and made some cringe-worthy insertions that will be mocked until the end of time. Lucas has sadly tinkered with A NEW HOPE, EMPIRE, and RETURN OF THE JEDI even more since then, until I think we fans have to ask him, “Why, George, why?” Some outraged STAR WARS fans have gone as far to proclaim “George Lucas Raped My Childhood.” (I do have both VHS and DVD copies of the original theatrical version of EMPIRE.)

Fortunately, I feel that Lucas has mangled EMPIRE considerably less than both A NEW HOPE and RETURN, which alone points to it being the best entry in the entire series. The uncanny valley effect: “An eerie feeling of unfamiliarity people get while observing or interacting with robots that resemble humans almost but not quite perfectly.” I believe we can add the “Star Wars Special Edition” corollary, as well as separate corollaries for both the prequels and the Disney Star Wars, to the uncanny valley effect. George, you should have just kept your ILM CGI magic in the prequels.

As EMPIRE played out more and more and we got deeper into the plot, though, any thoughts about Lucas, Special Edition, cringe-worthy insertions, etc., faded away and I became swept up in the spectacle more than ever before, because it was up there on the big screen for the first time. I felt wonderment and exhilaration, as well as the broader spectrum of emotions that other STAR WARS movies usually do not reach.

THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK ****; INDIANA JONES AND THE TEMPLE OF DOOM ***1/2

Kiss Me Deadly (1955)

KISS ME DEADLY (1955) ****

Sometimes, it seems that like no author ever liked any film adaptation of their work. It feels that way every time I read up on a film based on a novel.

For example, British novelist Roald Dahl (1916-90) hated WILLY WONKA & THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY, though he’s credited for writing the screenplay. David Seltzer rewrote Dahl’s original script and the original author hated the changes like a different ending and the addition of musical numbers. The choice of Gene Wilder to play Willy Wonka also did not jibe with Dahl.

Stephen King famously hates Stanley Kubrick’s adaptation of THE SHINING. “I have a real problem with THE SHINING and Stanley Kubrick knew that I had a real problem with THE SHINING. I had a discussion with him beforehand. He said, ‘Stephen, Stanley Kubrick here, don’t you agree that all stories of ghosts are fundamentally optimistic?’ I said, ‘What do you mean?’ and he said ‘Well if there are ghosts it means we survive death and that’s fundamentally an optimistic view, isn’t it?’ I said, ‘Mr. Kubrick, what about Hell?’ and there’s a long pause on the telephone line and then he said in a very stiff and a very different voice, ‘I don’t believe in Hell.’ I said to myself, ‘Well, that’s fine, but some of us do and some of us believe that ghosts may survive and that may be Hell.’” King called THE SHINING “a cold film” with “striking images” and compared it to a “beautiful car that had no engine.”

Now, we get to the classic 1955 apocalyptic film noir KISS ME DEADLY directed by Robert Aldrich (1918-83) and written by screenwriter A.I. Bezzerides (1908-2007) and an uncredited Aldrich from Mickey Spillane’s 1952 novel.

Spillane (1918-2006), of course, did not find the film adaptation of his novel to be “classic.” Apparently, Bezzerides felt the same about the source material.

“I was given the Spillane book and I said, ‘This is lousy. Let me see what I can do.’ So I went to work on it. I wrote it fast because I had contempt for it. … I tell you Spillane didn’t like what I did with his book. I ran into him at a restaurant and, boy, he didn’t like me.”

Why not?

Bezzerides added espionage and the infamous nuclear suitcase (“The great whatsit”), plot details not in Spillane’s novel. On top of that, Bezzerides made detective protagonist Mike Hammer a narcissistic bully of a very high degree of creep. Hammer, played by Ralph Meeker, pushes anti-hero to its most extreme limits. For whatever reason, Nazareth’s “Hair of the Dog” comes to mind, mainly that “Now you’re messin’ with a son of a bitch” chorus.

The appropriately named Hammer makes his living (predominantly) by blackmailing adulterous husbands and wives and he’s appropriately named Hammer because he’s always dropping the hammer on somebody in his way. Assorted thugs and sordid contacts, of course, but also a coroner not wanting to part with a key and a clerk not wanting to cooperate because Hammer’s not a member. Hammer’s friends and associates also pay dearly for their association with the detective.

I love Bezzerides’ dialogue.

One thug waxes poetic, “Dames are worse than flies.”

That’s as great as “I don’t pray. Kneeling bags my nylons” from Billy Wilder’s ACE IN THE HOLE and Harry Lime’s “cuckoo clock” speech from Carol Reed’s THE THIRD MAN.

KISS ME DEADLY prepares us for what lies ahead from its very first scene and then its opening credits, both stating that it will be a film like none other. What’s that old Cole Porter song? Yes, “Anything Goes.”

First scene: A frightened young woman. Dressed only in a trench coat, and she’s also in her bare feet. She’s flagging a ride as the motor cars zip past on a highway. She’s desperate, so desperate that she finally places herself in front of the path of one of the zipping cars. That car just happens to be driven by none other than Hammer. His first line, “You almost wrecked my car! Well? Get in!”

Opening credits: They scroll backwards. All the while, we hear the cries of the frightened young woman (Cloris Leachman).

Christina Bailey, the frightened young woman, tells Hammer, “Get me to that bus stop and forget you ever saw me. If we don’t make it to the bus stop. … If we don’t, remember me.” Needless to say, Miss Bailey does not make it to the bus stop and Hammer (and by extension, we) go down the proverbial rabbit hole. All roads lead to the atomic suitcase and one helluva explosive finale.

Every film noir seems to have at least one femme fatale and KISS ME DEADLY gives us Lily Carver (Gaby Rodgers), who’s compared to Pandora and Lot by one character she guns down late in the picture. She then greets Hammer, “Kiss me, Mike. I want you to kiss me. Kiss me. The liar’s kiss that says I love you, and means something else.” She unloads on Hammer, too.

Yes, she’s arguably the most fatal of any femme.

From her profile on “The Female Villains Wiki,” “Lily often has the manner of a slightly flaky adolescent, which doesn’t seem to be all assumed for the deceptive role she’s playing in the early scenes. When her true identity and character are later revealed, it’s clear she’s one of the most black hearted, deadly female villains ever put on screen. … She kills people easily, with no ethical concerns whatever evident. She smirks after she’s done it. In the last scene in which she appears, we see she’s more than just a greedy, callous killer, very pleased with herself, she’s also a sadist.”

Lily meets her maker in one of the great cinematic deaths. There’s a shot during the apocalyptic ending in RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK that’s a dead ringer for one in KISS ME DEADLY. Gotta love that Spielberg.

In the alternate ending, the one that was seen for many years, even Hammer goes down in flames. Nihilism and its variants have been used to describe KISS ME DEADLY many times, 639,000 in fact according to Google.

Aldrich later directed WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE?, THE DIRTY DOZEN, and THE LONGEST YARD, but he already outdid himself with KISS ME DEADLY.

All we need to know is that the Kefauver Commission named KISS ME DEADLY as 1955’s No. 1 menace to American youth. That would have included an 8-year-old Steven Spielberg and look how he turned out.

More American Graffiti (1979)

MORE AMERICAN GRAFFITI (1979) *

I missed the point of MORE AMERICAN GRAFFITI, the 1979 sequel to George Lucas’ highly influential smash hit from 1973, AMERICAN GRAFFITI.

Sure, I realize we are intended to catch up with John Milner (Paul LeMat), Steve and Laurie Bolander (Ron Howard and Cindy Williams), Debbie Dunham (Candy Clark), Carol “Rainbow” Morrison (Mackenzie Phillips), and Terry “The Toad” Fields (Charles Martin Smith) at different points in the 1960s, but I don’t know if the film had any other greater purpose than attempting to cash in on the AMERICAN GRAFFITI name for another box office bonanza.

You’re right: Richard Dreyfuss and Curt Henderson did not return for the sequel. He’s only the main character in AMERICAN GRAFFITI, for crying out loud. Just like there’s no Dreyfuss and Matt Hooper in JAWS 2. Like his friend Steven Spielberg did not direct JAWS 2, Lucas does not direct MORE AMERICAN GRAFFITI. Unlike Spielberg, though, Lucas had far more involvement with the AMERICAN GRAFFITI sequel, including editing duties.

We have Milner on New Year’s Eve 1964, The Toad in Vietnam on New Year’s Eve 1965, Debbie in San Francisco on New Year’s Eve 1966, and Steve and Laurie on New Year’s Eve 1967.

We shuffle between the four different New Year’s Eve days and director and screenwriter Bill L. Norton gussies up the 1965 and 1966 scenes with grainy newsreel style footage (1965) and split screen (1966). That helps us identify which year we’re seeing, for sure, but otherwise, both gimmicks do not work. Especially the split screen, a technique already overplayed after WOODSTOCK and Brian DePalma films like CARRIE. In MORE AMERICAN GRAFFITI, split screen takes away from every scene it’s used.

The original AMERICAN GRAFFITI focused on a single long day in 1962 and that made the parallel adventures of Curt, Milner, The Toad, and Steve much easier to follow and less distracting. Automobiles cruising the main drag and car radios playing Wolfman Jack’s radio show unified just about every scene.

AMERICAN GRAFFITI also proved to have a theme: It showed Curt, Milner, and The Toad all outside their comfort zones and getting to know somebody beyond their accustomed social circle: intellectual and future college boy Curt and the tough guy car club the Pharaohs, the James Dean “Rebel Without a Cause” Milner and a young teenage girl dumped off on him by her older sister and older friends, and the geeky and socially awkward Toad and the blonde bombshell Debbie. They all form a greater understanding of each other.

Lucas did not get across the theme in a pretentious, heavy-handed, preachy way. Just about every scene in AMERICAN GRAFFITI worked on some level, and it especially seemed incredibly accurate about what life was like in 1962.

Meanwhile, in MORE AMERICAN GRAFFITI, hardly any scenes work and the film never builds up any momentum. It seems to mark off the list of every cliche of the era and maybe it just feels that way even more after one million ‘60s nostalgia trips. MORE AMERICAN GRAFFITI plays like a Time Life movie.

MORE AMERICAN GRAFFITI loses steam early on when Debbie and her loser man friend Lance Harris (John Lansing) are pulled over and he’s busted for just a little joint by Officer Bob Falfa (gratuitous Harrison Ford cameo appearance) after a chase that feels like it takes forever … and that’s immediately followed by Steve and Laurie playing the Bickersons.

Considering how little works in MORE AMERICAN GRAFFITI, it’s even greater insult to injury when the final shot teases us with the death of a main character.

A New World Pictures Double Feature: Avalanche & Piranha (1978)

A NEW WORLD PICTURES DOUBLE FEATURE: AVALANCHE & PIRANHA (1978)

Two New World Pictures exploitation films entered the Great American box office sweepstakes in August 1978.

One became a surprise hit and the other dramatically flopped.

Roger Corman, a man of a million film productions, tossed his hat into the disaster movie ring with AVALANCHE, while PIRANHA riffed on the killer fish blockbuster JAWS.

PIRANHA, directed by Joe Dante and populated by experienced character actors like Bradford Dillman and Keenan Wynn and Dick Miller, recouped its budget and then some and spawned one sequel and at least two remakes.

Star actors Rock Hudson (1925-85) and Mia Farrow headline the human cast of AVALANCHE and New World invested a reported $6.5 million on the picture, a great deal more $ than PIRANHA. You know that it did not go very well for AVALANCHE when its greatest claim to fame is that it made “The Official Razzie Movie Guide” honoring the 100 most enjoyably bad movies ever made.

This bad movie enthusiast, however, did not enjoy AVALANCHE. I found it to be a long slog. I mean, I felt like the one climbing the mountain to get through its 90-odd minutes.

First and foremost, it’s a soap opera in the shape of a ski resort hosting a ski tournament and a figure skating competition. Egads! Magazine reporter Caroline (Farrow) divorced control freak and wealthy ski resort owner David (Hudson). You guessed it, David wants her back, wants her to use his last name rather than her maiden name, she keeps him at arm’s length, and she attaches herself to another man, which only infuriates Mr. Control Freak. Man oh man, that scene on the dance floor when David flips on Caroline, I wanted to bury my head in the snow.

That’s not all: We have David’s spirited mother, an elite skier who seems to be even better as lothario, competing figure skaters, competing lovers, a television reporter, and a nosy photographer. Remember, we need a body count.

That nosy photographer (Robert Forster) and David act out a scene near and dear to disaster movie connoisseurs everywhere. Nick Thorne, the nosy photographer’s name, warns David there’s an avalanche coming and that everybody’s in danger. Any of us could write the rest of the scene and, for that matter, the rest of the movie.

Disaster movies often create a dilemma in our hearts and minds: We desperately want the disaster to come and take us away from the phony baloney dialogue and situations. Yes, I’ll say it, the characters deserve to die a dramatic cinematic death sooner rather than later. … Then, when disaster strikes, disaster movies invariably give us scenes just as phony baloney as before. That’s what happens in AVALANCHE.

Director and screenwriter Corey Allen (1934-2010) blamed AVALANCHE’s disaster as a movie on budget cuts and a tight production schedule, whereas Corman said PIRANHA succeeded because it’s funny and very well directed.

I agree.

PIRANHA tips its humorous hand very early on when one of the main characters plays the classic Atari “Shark Jaws” arcade game. Then, we have classic lines like “They’re eating the guests, sir” and “People eat fish. Fish don’t eat people” and “Terror, horror, death. Film at eleven.” Those with a darker sense of humor may find a friend in PIRANHA. We can thank John Sayles for the script.

I’ve said it before and I’ll gladly say it again: Joe Dante is one of the best American directors. His credits include GREMLINS, GREMLINS 2: THE NEW BATCH, THE HOWLING, THE ‘BURBS, MATINEE, and SMALL SOLDIERS. I don’t think he’s ever let me down, and he does not let me down in PIRANHA.

PIRANHA goes cheerfully over-the-top.

For example, JAWS eliminates one kid. PIRANHA takes out virtually an entire summer camp in grisly detail. I’ve known people who hate PIRANHA because of this one sequence.

Roger Ebert began his one-star review, “I walked into PIRANHA wondering why the U.S. government would consider the piranha to be a potential secret weapon. After all, I reasoned, you can lead the enemy to water but you can’t make him wade. I was, it turns out, naive. PIRANHA is filled with people who suffer from the odd compulsion to jump into the water the very moment they discover it is infested by piranhas.”

Of course, the characters in PIRANHA have a compulsion to jump into piranha-infested waters. Honestly, that’s all part of the joke and part of the fun, especially when Kevin McCarthy works up a variant on his INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS performance.

Just like it’s fun seeing Dick Miller doing his take on Murray Hamilton’s mayor in JAWS. Miller, of course, does not want to hear about top secret scientifically-engineered killer piranhas (created through Operation: Razorteeth) and he does not cancel his party for prospective home buyers. You can guess what happens to most of them home buyers. Yes, PIRANHA takes many of the elements from JAWS and pushes them to extremes.

I enjoyed PIRANHA quite a bit, for its tongue-in-cheek humor and film buff references. There’s brilliant little touches strewn throughout the film, like Phil Tippett’s stop-motion animation creation in McCarthy’s lab. He’s the scientific genius behind them super killer fish, who are released into the system by our heroes played by Dillman and Heather Menzies. Anyway, this stop-motion creation, part-fish and part-lizard, epitomizes the generosity of PIRANHA in general. The film gives us a lot to enjoy.

The credits for PIRANHA are first-rate: Dante, Sayles, Tippett, composer Pino Donaggio, editors Dante and Mark Goldblatt, and makeup effects creator Rob Bottin. They all have done some fine work during their careers, inc. PIRANHA.

Steven Spielberg, the director of JAWS, reportedly considered PIRANHA the best of the many JAWS rip-offs and his approval expressed to Universal stopped the studio from pursuing an injunction against New World for PIRANHA. Universal’s first JAWS sequel, JAWS 2, came out two months before PIRANHA.

AVALANCHE (1978) *; PIRANHA (1978) ***

King Kong (1976)

KING KONG 1976

KING KONG (1976) Three-and-a-half stars
Of course this 1976 KING KONG cannot hold a candle to the 1933 version, one of the all-time screen classics.

If and when you and I can get past that fact, admittedly not an easy hurdle, the 1976 version stands out for being a great entertainment.

Jeff Bridges and Jessica Lange are improvements over Bruce Cabot and Fay Wray, respectively, in the male and female leads and Charles Grodin’s not far below what Robert Armstrong did in a similar role.

Of course, you can immediately tell when this movie was made by all the contemporaneous dialogue (especially from Lange) and Grodin plays an executive with Petrox Corporation, a fictional American oil company referencing the “pet rock” phenomenon. This KONG is more bound to 1976 than the original is to 1933.

Beset with production issues of a wide variety, including a complicated legal battle between Paramount, Universal, RKO, and the Cooper estate before filming even started (at one point, both Paramount and Universal had KONG projects lined up), and a first-time leading lady, as well as practical effects that often look more dated than what Willis O’Brien accomplished in 1933, KONG 1976 still works on a basic level.

It is fun.

The stories around the film, though, are more interesting than the finished product and help explain why the hype for the film took on epic proportions before its December 17 premiere.

Italian producer Dino DeLaurentiis (1919-2010) had the Carl Denham quotes in real life: “No one cry when JAWS die,” he said in Time. “But when the monkey die, people gonna cry. Intellectuals gonna love Kong. Even film buffs who love the first Kong gonna love ours.”

Or how about this one about Barbra Streisand told by Roger Ebert: “It’s-a no good, have two monsters in one movie.”

Unfortunately, when Meryl Streep auditioned for the Jessica Lange part, Dino said to his son in Italian that she was “too ugly” for the role; Streep understood Italian and replied in Italian to Dino, “I’m sorry I’m not beautiful enough to be in KING KONG.” We are printing legends, and that only seems appropriate for KING KONG.

Dino talked more smack about JAWS with ORCA THE KILLER WHALE (1977).

Gotta love Dino, whose mouth bit off more than his productions could chew.

Rather than Universal’s competing KONG movie (not released until Peter Jackson’s remake in 2005), the public first received A*P*E, an American / South Korean co-production with its Grade Z special effects, an early appearance for future TV mother Joanna (“Growing Pains”) Kerns, and an infamous shot where the ape uses the middle finger to show his disgust with the helicopters shooting at him.

Either that or he’s just showing his disgust at being trapped in that damn gorilla suit in a shitty movie.

A*P*E would later be topped, in the KING KONG ripoff department, by the Shaw Brothers’ MIGHTY PEKING MAN, the best of the King Kong ripoffs.

There’s also KING KUNG FU from 1976, where a gorilla trained in martial arts wreaks havoc on Wichita, Kansas. Financial constraints forced the makers into not being able to finish their film until 1987.

A*P*E invaded movie screens in October 1976, beating DeLaurentiis’ KONG by a good two months. MIGHTY PEKING MAN came out April 10, 1977, and Quentin Tarantino’s Rolling Thunder Pictures re-released the film on April 23, 1999.

Carlo Rambaldi, Glen Robinson, and Frank Van der Veer won a Special Achievement Award from the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences for the visual effects in KING KONG, believe it or not.

Legendary make-up artist Rick Baker played Kong, or he’s the man in the ape suit. The original plan had been for KONG ’76 to feature a 40-foot high mechanical ape, but that mechanical monster worked even less than Bruce the Shark in JAWS. JAWS director Steven Spielberg worked around the frequent mechanical failure to make an even better film than if the mechanical shark had been fully operational.

That’s not exactly the case with KONG ’76, partially because musical cues would not be a proper substitute for an ape like John Williams’ musical score proved to be for the shark or even Harry Manfredini’s score for the psycho killer in FRIDAY THE 13TH.

In other words, you have to see the ape.

“KING KONG offered the one chance to do a really perfect gorilla suit,” Baker said. “With the money and the time, it could have been outstanding. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. There were compromises and enforced deadlines.”

Let’s face it, KONG director John Guillermin, he’s no Spielberg.

At the same time, though, I give KONG ’76 and JAWS both three-and-a-half stars. Why?

A) Because life (and my brain) work in mysterious ways.

B) Because star ratings are basically arbitrary.

C) Because both films tap into the same primordial appeal and work as great entertainments for a couple hours each.

Duel (1971)

duel

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

24-year-old Steven Spielberg’s first feature film premiered November 13, 1971 on ABC.

Richard Matheson (1926-2013) wrote the script, based on his nightmarish experience on November 22, 1963 (the date of JFK’s assassination). A trucker tailgated Matheson on his return home following a golf match against friend and fellow writer Jerry Sohl. Matheson turned his experience into a short story that originally ran in Playboy.

Spielberg directed on a $450,000 budget and production ran 13 days, three days over schedule, and it played as the “ABC Movie of the Week” lasting 74 minutes. A later theatrical release covered nearly 90 minutes.

Spielberg wanted and got character actor Dennis Weaver (1924-2006). Of course, most of us know the Joplin-born actor for his work on TV series “Gunsmoke” and “McCloud,” but Spielberg admired Weaver for his work in Orson Welles’ TOUCH OF EVIL and in DUEL, Weaver’s character repeats a bit of verbal business from TOUCH OF EVIL. You got another think coming, indeed.

It’s a very basic premise at the center of DUEL: An unnamed truck driver stalks our protagonist David Mann (Weaver), a middle-aged salesman returning home from a business trip.

Mann passes the truck early on and that begins his 90-minute nightmare.

Oh sure, I bet you believe that driver sure as hell gets bent over being passed.

You might even say to yourself that it’s preposterous, but then again, in this day and rage, you might not.

I definitely believe that it’s not and I recall my own bizarre experience from November 2016.

“Driving home from work last night/this morning around 2 a.m., this car began following me from about the Highway 43/96 roundabout. It would creep up, then fall back and never pass despite multiple opportunities. There was no tailgating or attempt to run me off the road. A couple times, I looked back and the car swerved all over the place. At some point, I figured out it was definitely not a cop. That some point had already been reached when I turned on to Highway H toward Jasper, a destination 11 miles from Highway 43. I took a real slow, hesitant turn with a stop at the end and the creeper car behind me matched that slow, hesitant turn with a stop at the end. OK, it’s a creeper. We’re about halfway to Jasper when I turn into a random driveway. I sit in my car for a couple minutes, debating my next move. The car following me backs up a little bit and leaves me room to reverse and turn around. I see that it’s a dude driving the car. He’s alone. I back out, turn around, drive toward him, and engage him in what turned out to be one of the weirdest conversations I’ve ever known. But just like a character said to Inspector Harry Callahan in DIRTY HARRY, ‘I gots to know.’

“Anyway, I now know for sure what it’s like to have a conversation with someone orbiting Planet X. I could only understand bits and pieces of his stammered mutterings, something ‘bout him being from Wichita and then wanting to know if I wanted to make a contribution. No, sorry, I gave at the office.

“The Creepy Crawler: Thought we could talk for 10 minutes.

“Me: No, and we’ve already talked for 5.

“TCC: No, we haven’t.

“Me: It’s late and I just want to get home from working all night.

“(voice tails off quickly)

“TCC: So you don’t want to have a conversation?

“[I drive off into the sunset. No, wait, it’s 2 a.m. There’s no sunset. The sun rises in the opposite direction. Ah, hell, we’re not getting anywhere with this digression into stage direction.]

“Back on the road and that holy quest to make it home safe, I drove about 85 over those crazy little hills of Highway H until I reached Highway 43. No creeper. Very little active human life of any kind. Very few lights. I felt like saying, ‘It’s 30 miles to Arcadia, I’ve got a three-quarters full tank of gas, half a reporter’s notebook, it’s dark out and I am wearing a Star Wars T-shirt.’”

Watching it for the first time in full the other day, DUEL brought on a flashback to that 2016 incident and I certainly felt all the sympathy in the world for the plight of David Mann.

DUEL represented a test run for JAWS, Spielberg’s third feature. Both productions often masterfully exploit our fear of the unknown, but I’ll say that DUEL scares me more than JAWS because I drive a whole helluva lot more than I swim in the ocean.

Jaws (1975)

day 23, jaws

JAWS (1975) Three-and-a-half stars
Steven Spielberg’s JAWS wanted to do for sharks what Alfred Hitchcock’s PSYCHO did for showers 15 years earlier.

Like PSYCHO, JAWS became a game-changing motion picture and it’s been analyzed, overanalyzed, parodied, and satirized, and it spawned many clones and rip-offs with just about every animal turned into a relentless killer.

It’s known as the first summer blockbuster film (released on June 20, 1975), I mean it even says so in the Guinness Book of World Records, “Not only did people queue up around the block to see the movie, it became the first film to earn $100 million at the box office.”

Before 1975, summers were traditionally reserved for dumping insignificant fluff.

Based on Peter Benchley’s best-selling novel, JAWS tells a pulp story: a great white shark terrorizes Amity Island, a summer resort community, and transplanted city policeman Sheriff Brody (Roy Scheider) wants to close off the beaches but he runs into much resistance from Mayor Larry Vaughn (Murray Hamilton), who of course fears the loss of tourist revenue more than he does a great white shark. Eventually, though, Brody, along with preppy Ichthyologist Matt Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss) and grizzled old man of the sea Quint (Robert Shaw), attempts to hunt down and kill the great white aboard Quint’s ship, the Orca.

The film and the novel are different in several fundamental ways: Hooper and Brody’s wife do not have an affair in the film; Mayor Vaughn’s squeezed by the mafia in the novel and not simply local business interests; newspaper man Harry Meadows plays a bigger role in the novel; Quint’s made a survivor of the World War II USS Indianapolis; Hooper escapes death in the film; Quint dies by drowning in the novel; in the film, Brody kills the shark by shooting a compressed air tank inside the creature’s jaws, of course.

Spielberg said that he rooted for the shark the first time he read Benchley’s novel because he found the human characters unlikeable.

Normally, books are credited for having stronger characterizations than their screen adaptations.

That’s not the case with JAWS.

In fact, none of the subsequent JAWS films could match the characterizations of Brody, Hooper, and Quint and performances by Scheider, Dreyfuss, and Shaw. We have three indelible characters who stay within our hearts and minds just as much as the image of the great white shark.

Scheider and Dreyfuss appeared to have great chemistry together, just like there seemed to be real tension between Dreyfuss and Shaw.

Universal had Scheider bent over a barrel after he dropped out two weeks before filming started on THE DEER HUNTER, due to “creative differences,” and so they forced Scheider into starring in JAWS 2. Scheider’s performance in JAWS 2 suggests a very, very unhappy person and his conflicts with director Jeannot Szwarc must have only contributed to Scheider’s apparent misery.

Dreyfuss passed on JAWS 2 because Spielberg did not direct it; they made CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND together instead. Of course, there were obvious difficulties in Quint returning for JAWS 2.

JAWS 2 gives us a bunch of teeny boppers and repeats the basic plot of the first movie, JAWS 3-D sinks even more into a morass of mediocrity (how bad must you be to be disowned by the next JAWS film), and JAWS THE REVENGE, well, it gives us the first shark movie designed for geriatric consumption. To be honest, JAWS THE REVENGE defies the suspension of disbelief beyond belief and becomes one of the worst bad movies ever made.

Necessity became the mother of invention for JAWS, because of the numerous technical difficulties with the mechanical shark that became known as Bruce, named after Spielberg’s lawyer, or alternately “the great white turd.” Spielberg wanted to show the shark a lot sooner, but instead the film took on more Val Lewton proportions than the average horror movie. JAWS relies heavily on John Williams’ famous musical score to substitute for the shark.

The JAWS sequels utilized the mechanical shark far more often and much earlier on, honestly to their detriment. Less is more and more is less.

I always love it when horror movies take on more than just being a horror movie. At times, especially when our three protagonists are stuck on that damn boat together, JAWS becomes grand adventure and an unexpected comedy.

1941 (1979)

day 68, 1941

1941 (1979) Three-and-a-half stars
I have a general rule: Any movie featuring Slim Pickens, Christopher Lee, and Toshiro Mifune in the same scene will automatically be given a positive review, so Steven Spielberg’s 1941 has that going for it right off the bat.

I am sure you remember Pickens, Lee, and Mifune.

Pickens (1919-83) played many, many supporting roles in Westerns, but he also had a great role in Stanley Kubrick’s DR. STRANGELOVE as Major T.J. “King” Kong that incorporated his cowboy flair.

Lee (1922-2015) played Count Dracula seven times, I do believe, in Hammer productions like TASTE THE BLOOD OF COUNT DRACULA and later appeared in one James Bond, five Tim Burton, two STAR WARS, and three LORD OF THE RINGS films. There’s a story that Lee was once pulled over by a Hollywood traffic cop, who asked Lee if he should be driving in daylight.

Mifune (1920-97) appeared in over 150 movies during his career and none are more famous than his 16 collaborations with director Akira Kurosawa (ordered from last to first): RED BEARD, HIGH AND LOW, SANJURO, YOJIMBO, THE BAD SLEEP WELL, THE HIDDEN FORTRESS, THE LOWER DEPTHS, THRONE OF BLOOD, I LIVE IN FEAR, SEVEN SAMURAI, THE IDIOT, RASHOMON, SCANDAL, STRAY DOG, THE QUIET DUEL, and DRUNKEN ANGEL.

All three actors are each speaking different languages.

Awesome.

Pickens, Lee, and Mifune appear together early on in 1941 and we get the first shark victim in JAWS (actress and stuntwoman Susan Backlinie) as bonus opening scene treat.

1941 is the bastard child on Spielberg’s filmography, seemingly the film that even he doesn’t like all that much.

Just how much of a bastard child?

John Wayne and Charlton Heston were both offered the role of General Stilwell and turned it down because they believed 1941 to be unpatriotic.

I believe Wayne even told Spielberg that he should be ashamed … and called the script the most anti-American piece of drivel he ever read.

Robert Stack took on Stilwell and looking at photos of the real Joseph Stilwell, the actor looks just like the real person.

1941 came between CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND (1977) and RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK in Spielberg’s filmography, so of course the $94 million worldwide gross of 1941 would be considered a huge bust compared to $300 million for CLOSE ENCOUNTERS and $390 million for RAIDERS.

It’s an oversized, loud comedy that mostly fails on that intended level, but succeeds in other ways. That’s very strange and yes, 1941 is very strange indeed.

Spielberg himself said, “Some people think (1941) was an out-of-control production, but it wasn’t. What happened on the screen was pretty out of control, but the production was pretty much in control. I don’t dislike the movie at all. I’m not embarrassed by it. I just think that it wasn’t funny enough.”

Spielberg has said that Robert Zemeckis, who co-wrote the picture with Bob Gale, should have directed the picture.

Though I don’t laugh at the vast majority of 1941, I am never bored and I end up smiling through a lot of the picture.

I’ve already mentioned Pickens, Lee, Mifune, and Stack, and that just scratches the surface of the star power on board.

We also have Dan Aykroyd, Ned Beatty, John Belushi, Lorraine Gary, Murray Hamilton, Tim Matheson, Warren Oates, and Nancy Allen, and several more familiar faces in Treat Williams, Bobby DiCicco, Eddie Deezen, Wendie Jo Sperber, Perry Lang, Penny Marshall, Michael McKean, Joe Flaherty, Mickey Rourke, and John Candy.

In addition to Pickens, we have a couple more of the great old-time character actors in Dub Taylor and Elisha Cook Jr.

Williams, DiCicco, Dianne Kay, and especially Sperber are particularly delightful and basically steal the movie away from the bigger names. They are fun, fun, fun, that’s for sure, and their work peaks at the USO club sequence, by far the best part of the movie that incorporates a dance contest and a brawl. This sequence found inspiration from both a film and real life: Universal Pictures’ HELLZAPOPPIN’ (1941) and the Zoot Suit Riots of 1943. I rate this sequence with any Spielberg’s ever done throughout his nearly five-decade career; Spielberg thought about making 1941 an old-fashioned musical, but he said he didn’t have the guts to go through with it at the time.

There’s just a lot of enjoyable moments during 1941, plain and simple.

For example, Stilwell watched DUMBO twice in real life during the month of December 1941 when he was a commander in the Los Angeles area. Stilwell, I believe, even cries watching DUMBO in 1941. Sure difficult being a cinephile.