Directed by Lewis Allen Starring Frank Sinatra, Sterling Hayden, James Gleason, Nancy Gates, Willis Bouchey, Paul Frees
Suddenly (1954) has always been one of my favorite noir pictures (if you wanna call it noir). The Roan Group put it out on laserdisc eons ago, so I’ve seen it a blue million times.
I’m really, really glad it’s coming to Blu-Ray from Film Masters. I know they’ll treat it right.
Hayden’s cool, Sinatra’s great and the rest of the cast is marvelous. The picture’s a prime example of the tension-building slow burn. I love this one! Highly, highly recommended.
Directed by Roger Corman Starring Charles Bronson, Susan Cabot, Morey Amsterdam, Richard Devon, Jack Lambert
Christmas is already looking pretty merry. Film Masters will release Roger Corman’s Machine Gun Kelly (1958) on 4K and Blu-Ray in December.
I’ve always felt this was the best of Corman’s 50s films, with a solid performance from Charles Bronson in maybe his first lead (Showdown At Boot Hill opened just a month later). And it’s one of the jewels of that late-50s gangster picture resurgence (Don Siegel’s Baby Face Nelson is great!)
Film Masters always does stellar stuff, and I’m sure this one will be no different. You get both the 1.37 version and the Superama widescreen cropping of 2.0 — and a stack of stuff from Ballyhoo Motion Pictures. Highly, highly recommended.
Directed by Andre de Toth Starring Dick Powell, Lizabeth Scott, Jane Wyatt, Raymond Burr, Jimmy Hunt
Warner Archive’s Blu-Ray of Andre de Toth’s Crime Wave (1953) is gorgeous (review’s in the works). Now we hear de Toth’s Pitfall (1948) is coming to 4K. Aren’t you glad I wrote that letter to Santa? (Paraphrasing Son Of Paleface.)
Bored with his insurance adjuster job and ideal family life, Dick Powell quickly commences with destroying everything. He hooks up with a crook’s girlfriend Lizabeth Scott, who’s bad news, and with private investigator Raymond Burr, who’s even worse news. Who’s gonna get dead? And will anything be left of Powell’s marriage (or Powell, for that matter)?
Pitfall is a key film noir and one of my favorites of the genre. Powell’s terrific, Burr’s a real creep and de Toth’s direction is pretty much perfect. (By the way, Jimmy Hunt told me Dick Powell was very nice.)
Cinematographer Harry J. Wild also shot Murder, My Sweet (1944), Son Of Paleface (1952) and Macao (1952). This disc should look like a million bucks. Highly, highly recommended.
Directed by Fritz Lang Starring Edward G. Robinson, Joan Bennett, Dan Duryea, Margaret Lindsay, Rosalind Ivan, Jess Barker, Charles Kemper
I love Fritz Lang’s Hollywood movies. And any time one of his pictures makes its way to Blu-Ray or 4K, it’s something to celebrate. So maybe tonight I’ll raise a glass of Jack and Coke to Mr. Lang and the folks at Eureka — Scarlet Street (1945) is coming to 4K.
After the success of The Woman In The Window (1944), Lang recalled the cast of that film — Edward G. Robinson, Joan Bennett and Dan Duryea — for his next picture, Scarlet Street. (Ms. Bennett had already been in 1941’s Man Hunt, one of Lang’s best films.)
This one’s as noir as noir gets. Clerk and amateur painter Robinson gets involved with a couple of swindlers, Bennett and Duryea, and really lives to regret it. Fatalism is dumped onto this movie by the bucketful. It was even banned in a few places.
Somebody at Eureka really digs Fritz Lang, and they’ve done a great job with a number of his films, including The Woman In The Window. For this one, they tracked down some 35mm nitrate to work with. Can’t wait to see how it comes out. Highly, highly recommended.
Directed by Terence Fisher Starring Peter Cushing, Michael Gough, Melissa Stribling, Christopher Lee
I first saw Horror Of Dracula (1958) when I was nine or ten years old. Not long after that, the above poster appeared in a 1975 issue of Dynamite magazine. That poster hung in my bedroom through high school. Wish it was still there.
All this is to say that Horror Of Dracula had an impact on me that few films have had. It remains one of my all-time favorite movies.
A big part of the mystique around Horror Of Dracula is the idea of various cuts around the world, with Japan supposedly having the longest, most “complete.” With the new 4K/Blu-Ray set on the way from Hammer (and Warner Archive), this mystery is unraveled once and for all. Turns out that Terence Fisher made one cut of the film, his cut. That was then altered by whoever was releasing it in whatever country, after duking it out with their country’s censors. Which means Japan didn’t put anything in, they took less out. At this time, censors were having a field day with Hammer’s rather nasty little horror movies. For this set, we get Fisher’s cut (called simply Dracula), along with the US and other versions.
We also get what has to be one of the largest batches of extras ever. And in the middle of that jaw-dropping list sits—
NEW commentary from writer, filmmaker and film programmer Heidi Honeycutt and cult movie expert Toby Roan.
To be involved in this restoration and release in any way, even to just go get coffee for everybody, would be cool. But a commentary, that’s a monstrous opportunity (pun intended).
Wait till you see this thing, y’all. It’s absolutely essential.
Shelley Fabares (January 19, 1944 – August 22, 2026)
Shelley Fabares has passed away at 82. She had a long, successful career, from the Donna Red Show to One Day At A Time to Coach. And three Elvis movies!
I saw Spinout (1966) on the CBS Late Movie in 1973. It, and Ms. Fabares, made a huge impression on me.
Directed by Richard Fleischer Produced by Herman Schlom Screenplay by Lillie Hayward Story by Anthony Mann & Francis Rosenwald Director Of Photography: Robert De Grasse Film Editor: Elmo Williams Music by Leonid Raab & Paul Sawtell
Cast: William Lundigan (Lt. Harry Grant), Dorothy Patrick (Ann Gorman), Jeff Corey (Sgt. Art Collins), Nestor Paiva (Benny), Charles D. Brown (Mulvaney), Paul Guilfoyle (Overbeck), Edwin Max (Charlie Roy/”The Judge”), Frank Ferguson (McGill)
If you’ve paid any attention to this blog at all (and sometimes I wonder why you would), you know I tend to prefer cheap movies to expensive ones. Most of this thing’s consistent visitors/commenters seem to feel likewise. Creative decisions are best handled with ingenuity, not a checkbook.
The point of all this is to get around to Mr. Richard Fleischer, a director who positively excelled at making low-budget films like Follow Me Quietly (1949). It’s easy to see why he “graduated” to bigger movies, and he made some terrific ones, but I selfishly wish he’d stuck with the B’s a bit longer. I’d love a lot more pictures like Follow Me Quietly, which us just stunning on the new Blu-Ray from Warner Archive.
There’s a murderer out there who calls himself “The Judge.” He’s strangling folks on rainy nights, through some sort of perceived moral superiority, laid out in the notes he leaves behind (above). Police lieutenant Harry Grant (William Lundigan) and his partner (Jeff Corey) are working the case, constantly annoyed by a pretty reporter (Dorothy Patrick).
The story by Anthony Mann and Francis Rosenwald seems ahead of its time. The Judge feels like the grandfather of the serial killer in something like Seven (1995) — and the faceless Judge predates Mario Bava’s masked killer in Blood And Black Lace (1964). Lillie Hayward’s screenplay digs into the nutjob’s motivations a bit before the big finish as Lundigan and Corey identify the guy and chase him down in a refinery.
Follow Me Quietly gives us a chance to watch Richard Fleischer’s development as a director. From this one to Armored Car Robbery (1950) and The Narrow Margin (1952), he got better with each picture. Here, the intense last reel moves like a rocket, and the scenes with The Judge are genuinely creepy. The cast does a splendid job, especially Jeff Corey and Douglas Spencer (as an innocent guy who confesses to The Judge’s crimes).
On Blu-Ray, Follow Me Quietly is near perfection, getting Warner Archive’s customary B&W high-definition treatment (from the camera negative). WA has a way of scrubbing the dirt and dust without disturbing the grain. It’s absolutely beautiful. (I can’t stand it when the grain’s gone and we’re left with waxy faces. Isn’t detail the whole point with high definition?)
The disc tacks on a short from MGM’s Crime Does Not Pay series, Dark Shadows (1944), along with the theatrical trailer for Follow Me Quietly. This is a fabulous little movie — and another top-notch release from Warner Archive. Highly, highly recommended.
The fifth of Dean Martin’s Matt Helm movies was to be The Ravagers. It was announced in the end credits of The Wrecking Crew (1969). It didn’t happen. Why?
Sharon Tate was very funny as Freya Carlson in The Wrecking Crew. She was one of the few things about the film that critics seemed to like, and there were plans to bring her back for The Ravagers as Dean Martin’s full-fledged co-star. Phil Karlson was going to return as director.
But Ms. Tate was murdered by Charles Manson’s Family on August 9, 1969.
It was announced in October 1969 that production of The Ravagers would begin in November. In fact, it was reported that Dino had plans to play golf with Jackie Gleason during location shooting in Miami.
But they were having trouble finding a new co-star to replace Sharon Tate.
Martin didn’t like the actresses Columbia Pictures was suggesting (he had pre-approval) and Martin’s choice, Goldie Hawn, wanted more money ($150,000) than Columbia was willing to pay. According to a Columbia executive at the time, “We were all set to roll. A crew had been assigned, a production date set. Now the script’s resting on a shelf and The Ravagers will probably never be made.”
Even the threat of withholding $300,000 of Dean’s share of the profits from The Wrecking Crew didn’t do anything. Others say Dean was upset by Sharon Tate’s death, disappointed in the film’s profits and just plain tired of Matt Helm.
Directed by Nathan Juran Produced by Charles H. Schneer Written by Kenneth Kolb Director Of Photography: Wilkie Cooper Special Visual Effects Created by Ray Harryhausen In Dynamation, The New Miracle Of The Screen (not Dynarama) Film Editors: Edwin Bryant & Jerome Thoms Music Composed by Bernard Herrmann
Cast: Kerwin Mathews (Sinbad), Kathryn Grant (Princess Parisa), Richard Eyer (Barani, the Genie), Torin Thatcher (Sokurah), Alec Mango (Caliph of Baghdad), Harold Kasket (Sultan, Parisa’s father), Alfred Brown (Harufa)
Saw The 7th Voyage Of Sinbad (1958) in March of 1975 at the Mission Valley Twin in Raleigh, North Carolina (ad up top) — in a re-release situated between The Golden Voyage Of Sinbad (1973) and Sinbad And The Eye Of The Tiger (1977). (Golden Voyage would come back to town in 1976, which is when I saw it.)* Though the 7th Voyage print was pretty ugly-looking, I was completely spellbound from beginning to end. And from time to time, downright scared.
There’s no reason to go through all the backstory on The 7th Voyage Of Sinbad. I figure most of the folks who land on this blog have seen it at least once. It’s one of Ray Harryhausen’s finest films, his first in color after years spent toiling away for Sam Katzman. It has a terrific score by Bernard Herrmann (with a few spots that remind me of what he’d do a year later for Hitchcock’s North By Northwest). Nathan Juran does a splendid job of keeping things moving. It’s truly spectacular at times, from Harryhausen’s incredible effects to the beautiful Spanish locations to the lovely Kathryn Grant.
The story concerns Sinbad (Kerwin Mathews) taking on the magician Sokurah (Torin Thatcher), who has shrunk the Princess Parisa (Kathryn Grant) to persuade Sinbad to return to the island of Colossa to retrieve a lamp with a genie in it (that Sokurah dropped while fleeing the Cyclops). Since the only way to return Parisa to her normal size (after all, who wants a wife smaller than a Barbie?) is with the eggshell of a giant two-headed bird that lives on Colossa. So, off to Colossa they go, knowing that damn Cyclops will be there waiting on ’em.
As a kid, I didn’t care about any of that. The plot was simply a line to hang Harryhausen’s terrific animated monsters on, one about every 10 minutes or so — the Cyclops, the snake lady, the Giant Roc, the sword-wielding skeleton, the fire-breathing dragon and back to the Cyclops. This movie promised monsters, and it actually delivered them! All this comes together to create an adventure-fantasy movie that has remained fresh and exciting for almost 70 years.
Ray Harryhausen was able to brings his “puppets” to life in ways no one else ever could, including his mentor, Willis O’Brien. The depth and detail are stunning, especially now that we can see it all in high definition. Plus, Kerwin Mathews does a better job of acting to things that aren’t there than any of the others stars of Harryhausen pictures. His eyes always seem to be looking in the right place.
The 7th Voyage Of Sinbad appears in its original 1.66 — in a 4K 2160p Ultra High Definition transfer. Supposedly transferred from the camera negative, this is a HUGE improvement over the 2008 Blu-Ray (which is included in this package). Color and clarity are greatly improved.
The original mono audio track has plenty of punch, really showing off Herrmann’s score. Didn’t listen to the remixed surround tracks (I never do). There are some new supplemental pieces on the 4K disc, plus you get all the older material from the 2008 Blu-Ray (Harryhausen’s commentary is terrific).
I really love this movie. It blew me away back in ’75, and seeing it like this did the same thing this week. Quite a few older films have come to 4K and don’t seem like much of an improvement over the Blu-Ray. This is not one of those, it’s superb. Essential stuff.
* As I get older, I really appreciate the great opportunity I had to see so many re-releases like this in the theater. Even more, I realize how terrific my mom was. She hauled me to so many crazy movies like this throughout the 70s, even making sure I had the box of Raisinets so crucial to a successful cinematic experience.
