I devour the BFI Best Films of All Time list whenever they deem it necessary to revise and (invariably) disagree with most of the findings, but I still get a kick out of browsing. Same with Rolling Stone's inane Best 100 Albums (how does Sgt. Pepper drop from #1 to #24 in the latest incarnation?); the anger I feel subsides when I see they've put a couple of Aerosmith albums on the list! We all disagree with that number one but we keep right on scrolling through each choice.
This project, which has been percolating for quite a while, originated from the constant back and forth "good natured bickering" between John Scoleri and myself. John invariably loves everything and I hate it all (for more of the discourse, I advise one and all to pick up a copy of bare•bones print magazine and read our debates about streaming and movie theaters to get a taste). I began to think it would be fun to compose a Favorite (as opposed to Best) 100 and compare our selections. Making it even more tantalizing, I managed to talk the third head of Ghidorah, Jack Seabrook, into participating. This could be interesting, since John's never seen a movie the two Georges (Romero and Lucas) didn't have a hand in, and Jack usually favors the flicks that have words at the bottom of the screen (dis-moi que j'ai tort, Jack!). I, on the other hand, can't wait to educate these two gentlemen as to what constitutes good cinema.
Every Thursday, we'll count down our picks two at a time. We're hoping this will generate discourse outside of our trio. Let us know just how crazy we are. This is going to be fun!—Peter
"Bubba didn't do it."
For centuries, the debate has raged on: what's scarier—the clown or the scarecrow? Well, I don't think there's any doubt (Pennywise be damned) that the straw guy standing out in the field, whose sole purpose is to drive fear into big black birds, is the clear winner. Clowns can be funny; scarecrows not. Dark Night of the Scarecrow proves my point. In the decade-plus that made-for-TV Movies were popular on all three networks, a handful provided some solid chills. The Night Stalker, Duel, A Cold Night's Death, Trilogy of Terror, Gargoyles, and Don't Go to Sleep (the climax of which is along the lines of Scarecrow) all made my initial shortlist, but most were whittled away. Not Scarecrow.
Scarecrow wastes no time with exposition. Very quickly we know that bad dude mailman Otis Hazelrigg (Durning) and his band of cohorts (I picture a callout from the producer to all sweaty, obese, clumsy male actors in Hollywood to audition) don't like mentally-challenged Bubba just because he's different (although we come to learn that Hazelrigg might be jealous that Bubba spends so much time with pre-teen Marylee) and they'll look for any excuse to run Bubba out of town... or worse.
The perfect excuse comes when Marylee is attacked by a dog and Bubba saves her, but the message that trickles down to Hazelrigg and Co. is that "Bubba finally went too far with the little girl and kilt her!" In no time, they've got dogs and they track Bubba to his house, where his mother convinces the big guy to play "the hiding game." The bumpkins use the dogs to sniff Bubba out and they find him in the cornfield disguised as a scarecrow. They unload their firearms into the defenseless man and, in the ultimate injustice, they are later released due to insufficient evidence. As she's being shoved out of the courtroom, Bubba's mother swears in court that "there are other justices than the law." Soon afterward, each one of Bubba's assassins meets with a grisly death until only one stands: Otis Hazelrigg.
Director De Felitta (author of Audrey Rose) does a fantastic job of keeping his audience guessing who the real killer is. There are hints, but the true identity isn't revealed until that uber-creepy last shot, an image that still gives me goosebumps. Holy crap, he went there! The anchor here is Durning, who puts on a great show, waddling around behind bloodhounds, racing through the streets in his mail jeep, and sweating profusely on cue. Durning's hair gets nominated for Best Prop; by the end of the flick, with sweat rolling down his face and white hair nearly standing on end, it's a call-back to Oliver Reed in Curse of the Werewolf.
If I have but one complaint about this classic creep show, it's the unrealistic portrayal of Otis Hazelrigg the mailman. Liar... Pedophile... Murderer... driving his vehicle with the door open. As a USPS vet of 40+ years, I know the service will excuse the first three, but that last one will get you canned.—Peter
Remarks from the Gallery:
Jack: I didn’t know TV movies counted! This aired during a period when my life was very unsettled and I wasn’t really watching TV. Otherwise it sounds like something I definitely would have enjoyed.
John: I haven't seen this since watching it on broadcast TV, though I've since bought it on DVD and even upgraded to Blu-Ray. I guess I'm going to finally have to dig this one out for a re-watch. As for scarecrows being so scary, I guess we can safely assume The Wizard of Oz will not be showing up on Peter's list, as he's clearly unfamiliar with that famous incarnation.
"After living in the U.S.A. for more than thirty-five years they called me an undesirable alien. Me. Johnny Rocco. Like I was a dirty Red or something!"
When WWII Army vet Frank McCloud goes to Key Largo to visit the widow and father of his late Army buddy, he finds himself in the middle of a hurricane and must take shelter in the Hotel Largo. It turns out that notorious mobster Johnny Rocco is holed up in a room in the hotel, waiting for a visit from some other gangsters and avoiding the law. Can Frank survive the night as the hurricane rages and Rocco grows increasingly jittery?
I rewatched Key Largo the other night and thoroughly enjoyed it. The credits say it's adapted from a stage play and I can see it in the way most of the action takes place in the hotel lobby. The movie is so entertaining that it makes me want to see the play if I ever get the chance. I love Bogey and Bacall and Bogart certainly gives a great performance here, but Edward G. Robinson makes the film come alive when he finally appears in a classic shot where he's lying in a bathtub with a fan blowing air on him. He and Bogart vie for attention in their scenes together; Bogart exudes quiet confidence while Robinson is bombastic.
I especially love Lionel Barrymore in this, as I do in most anything I've seen him in. Here he's a gentle but determined character, not afraid to call Johnny Rocco "scum" to his face. Perhaps the best scenes are during the hurricane, when Rocco is genuinely afraid of what the hurricane might do to him. He's a big man in the city, but he realizes he can't get the best of the forces of nature.—Jack
Remarks from the Gallery:
Peter: Classic! But most of the flicks Bogey made are classics now. I only saw Key Largo recently and was struck by the noir-ness of it. Good choice, Jack!
John: Never seen this one. I'm not a huge Bogart fan, but he's definitely been in some great movies. For what it's worth, he does eventually make my list. And something tells me this isn't the last time I'll see him on at least your list, Jack!
"Dracula: What kind of a monster is he? A ghoul? A demon? A spook, or...?
Francesca: A human.
Dracula: They're the worst kind."
Someone please explain to me how this Rankin/Bass classic never managed to become an annual Halloween TV staple! All we got was Charlie Brown's great pumpkin and, let's face it, that was not geared to the monster kids. While Rankin Bass all but cornered the market when it came to Christmas specials, Mad Monster Party was basically a forgotten stepchild.
I was exposed to the film in the theater at the Kid Zone in the basement of Harrah's Casino in Lake Tahoe, where my siblings and I would hang out while our parents were upstairs playing blackjack. Along with playing pinball machines and electro-mechanical games (this was before the rise of the video game, mind you), the movie theater was where I spent a lot of time, watching films unspool on 16mm. I distinctly remember watching two seminal films that are forever burned in my memory—the first was my introduction to Caroline Munro (kicking off a lifelong obsession) in The Golden Voyage of Sinbad and the second was Mad Monster Party. It was years before I finally acquired a copy of the film on VHS and was able to experience it again. And it was just as much fun as I had remembered.
First off, the animagic puppet designs are fantastic and offer up a monster kid's dream-team: Boris Karloff as Baron Frankenstein, Frankenstein, Dracula, the Wolf Man, the Invisible Man, the Mummy, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, the Creature, the Hunchback, Yetch (think Igor as voiced by Peter Lorre) and ... It (no spoilers from me!). Add to the mix the Baron's nerdy nephew Felix, a red-hot redheaded femme fatale Francesca (with a raspy Kathleen Turner-like voice), and yes, Phyllis Diller as Frankenstein's bride, and you've got the makings of a Halloween classic. There's even a great mop-top skeleton rock band (performing "The Mummy").
Pre-COVID, a Halloween movie party was an annual event at The Slaughtered Lamb Cinema, and we'd always start the day with family friendly spook shows for our nieces, nephews, and other neighborhood kids. You could pretty much count on Mad Monster Party? being in heavy rotation, correcting the years of oversight of broadcast television. I still find the film as charming as ever.—John
Remarks from the Gallery:
Peter: Believe it or not, I've never seen this one. I'd never even heard of it until the mid-1970s and it never seemed to turn up on TV. I had no idea Harvey Kurtzman co-wrote the screenplay. Definitely one I'll put on my "to buy" list.
Jack: I know I saw this on TV long ago but I don't remember much about it other than that Boris Karloff was in it. I think. I spent years trying to see every movie he ever made, well before that was easy in the age of DVDs and streaming. I didn't see them all, but it was fun to try!
"People who are obliged to live alone have a habit of creatin' company for themselves. Innocent fancies can become fixed delusions.."
Google informs me that I first saw Hush... Hush, Sweet Charlotte on ABC on January 21, 1968, its network premiere. I remember it vividly because my paternal grandmother would make a big deal about watching the "big Hollywood movies" for the first time on TV and, when she was sitting us, she'd let me stay up late to watch. The big hullabaloo around network premieres always caught my interest. Nearly sixty years later, I can recall this one scared the shit out of me, in particular the scene with Joseph Cotten standing on the staircase, reeds and mud messing up his fancy clothes, reaching his hand down for Charlotte.
There will be those of you out there who argue that Baby Jane should be in its place, but I've always had more fondness for this Deep South Gothic Noir and its nasty edge. This is a film filled with great performances: Bette Davis as the clearly deranged but sympathetic Charlotte; Joseph Cotten as the crafty doc; Olivia de Havilland playing against type and creating a soulless bitch who'll do anything for a buck; and (the deservedly Oscar-nominated) Agnes Moorhead as the loyal maid. All four seem to wink at us now and then and whisper "Ain't this all a goof?" Throw in a very young Bruce Dern and genre fave Victor Buono and you have a cast for the ages. Oh, and that haunting theme song!
At times it's unclear (at least until the final scenes) what's real and what's in the imagination of the drugged and imbalanced Charlotte. This is a film that begs to be watched a second time so that you can spot the clues; director Aldrich does a great job of avoiding "cheats" that ruin mysteries on rewatch. I usually find Bette Davis hard to watch but here she does a marvelous job detailing the breakdown of her character and the smile on her face at the climax, as she's driven away (to the funny farm?), can bring a tear to the eye of even a grizzled film vet. Not me, of course, but maybe you.—Peter
Remarks from the Gallery:
Jack: I know I've seen this but I only remember the theme song, which I can sing from memory. I have a better recollection of Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? Anything from this era with Bruce Dern is definitely worth watching!
John: This is another that I'm sure I saw on broadcast television back in the day, but not since. Frankly, Baby Jane, Sweet Charlotte, Auntie Roo, Helen, Aunt Alice—and all the rest of the Psycho-Biddys, have never really drawn me in. Maybe I'll give this one a watch if the opportunity arises, since it was good enough for Peter to catapult past many other great films.
"You're gonna need a bigger boat."
Ah, summer at the beach! Time the let the kids run around unsupervised while you sit on a blanket and get drunk. But wait! You're the new sheriff at a resort town in New England and it looks like a shark is munching on local swimmers just offshore. And it's almost July 4th! Oh well, can't let the local economy get ruined! Let 'em swim!
That's a casual summary of the first section of Jaws, but things take a turn for the worse when more people get chewed up. Rewatching the movie last night, I was struck by how insistent just about everyone in the beach town is about letting the tourists do what they want, despite the increasing body count. In fact, when the sheriff finally heads off on the old salt's boat with the rich, goofy young scientist to go after the big shark, most of the rest of the townsfolk have been convinced that the big chomper has been caught and the threat is over.
The second half of the movie is an extended chase scene, where three men on a boat track down the world's biggest great white shark. The score by John Williams is a big part of why the movie works, as are the performances by the three lead actors. There's really no character development at all—they are caricatures who manage to succeed, sort of, by blowing the shark to bits. But wait—where were all the other people while the trio were out on the water chasing the shark? How long did it take? A day or so? And how far did they have to paddle back to shore at the end with those floating barrels?
Best not to think about it too hard. The movie is a lot of fun and is worth rewatching every so often. Robert Shaw's lines don't get any easier to understand with age, believe me.—Jack
Remarks from the Gallery:
Peter: Not a bad flick, In fact, I'll have way more to say about this one somewhere down the line. I believe this may be another rarity that shows up on all three lists.
John: Yeah, no real surprise there. But way further down the line.
"The horribleness and awfulness of it will never actually be forgotten?"
Hands down the best Don Knotts film, and Luther Heggs is a character he was born to play. One of my all-time favorite humor/horror hybrids (and yes—to my young eyes a pair of gardening shears stuck in the bleeding throat of Mrs. Simmons's portrait was horrifying!).
Would-be reporter and all around fraidy-cat Luther Heggs is dared into spending the anniversary night of a murder in a long-abandoned local mansion, oddly enough resulting in his becoming a town hero. At least until the heir to the estate sues him for making up stories about the house.
This is another film that I wish had played every Halloween (and yes, it was another regular feature in The Slaughtered Lamb Halloween lineup). I love everything about it—the use of The Munsters house on the Universal backlot, the widescreen cinematography, Vic Mizzy's finest score, the humor, a cast of recognizable character actors, and Luther Heggs's attempts to win over a love interest who's clearly out of his league—Joan Staley's Alma.
Fans of the film will recall many memorable quotes and references, from "Atta boy, Luther," to "Let me clarify this," to "And they used Bon Ami"! I got to meet Don Knotts at the Hollywood Show many years ago and was able to get him to sign a Mr. Chicken lobby card, which he inscribed, "Atta boy, John!" It wasn't planned, but it's very appropriate that these two picks showed up this week in this series. They're perfect Halloween confections for you to enjoy!—John
Remarks from the Gallery:
Peter: Yeah, this one was a staple of my childhood. It seemed it was on Channel 2 every weekend. Don Knotts was one of my favorite TV fixtures in the 1960s thanks to The Andy Griffith Show and my pre-teen brain was amazed to see he was in a movie. The other Knotts favorite is The Incredible Mr. Limpet, where Don plays a dolphin for most of the running time. Unheralded gem, that one. Haven't seen Chicken in decades but your write-up has got me feeling that a rewatch should be scheduled.
Jack: I'm aware of it but I've never seen it. I only recently came to appreciate Don Knotts, mainly through my wife, who gets a kick out of his role as Barney Fife. The Andy Griffith Show happens to be on every night around the time we settle in for some TV, so I'm always checking which episode it is and on the lookout for Ernest T. Bass.
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