The Unnominated #20: The Ninth Configuration (dir by William Peter Blatty)

Posted on October 1, 2025 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Though the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences claim that the Oscars honor the best of the year, we all know that there are always worthy films and performances that end up getting overlooked. Sometimes, it’s because the competition too fierce. Sometimes, it’s because the film itself was too controversial. Often, it’s just a case of a film’s quality not being fully recognized until years after its initial released. This series of reviews takes a look at the films and performances that should have been nominated but were, for whatever reason, overlooked. These are the Unnominated.

Some films defy easy description and that’s certainly the case with 1980’s The Ninth Configuration.

The film opens with a shot of a castle sitting atop of a fog-shrouded mountain. A voice over tells us that, in the early 70s, the castle was used by the U.S. government to house military personnel who were suffering from mental illness. Inside the castle, the patients appear to be left to their own devices. Lt. Reno (Jason Miller) is trying to teach dog how to perform Shakespeare. Astronaut Billy Cutshaw (Scott Wilson) is haunted by the thought of being alone in space and refuses to reveal why he, at the last minute, refused to go to the moon. The men are watched over by weary and somewhat sinister-look guards, who are played by actors like Joe Spinell and Neville Brand.

Colonel Kane (Stacy Keach) shows up as the new commandant of the the castle. From the first minute that we see Kane, we get the feeling that there might be something off about him. Though he says that his main concern is to help the patients, the man himself seems to be holding back secrets of his own. With the help of Colonel Fell (Ed Flanders, giving an excellent performance), Kane gets to know the patients and the guards. (Despite the objections of the guards, Kane says that his office must always be unlocked and open to anyone who want to see him.) He takes a special interest in Cutsaw and the two frequently debate the existence of God. The formerly religious Cutshaw believes the universe is empty and that leaving Earth means being alone. Kane disagrees and promises that, should he die, he will send proof of the afterlife. At night, though, Kane is haunted by dreams of a soldier who went on a murderous rampage in Vietnam.

The film start out as a broad comedy, with Keach’s smoldering intensity being matched with things like Jason Miller trying to get the dogs to perform Hamlet. As things progress, the film becomes a seriously and thoughtful meditation on belief and faith, with characters like Kane, Billy, and Colonel Fell revealing themselves to be quite different from who the viewer originally assumed them to be. By the time Kane and Cutshaw meet a group of villainous bikers (including Richard Lynch), the film becomes a horror film as we learn what one character is truly capable of doing. The film then ends with a simple and emotional scene, one that is so well-done that it’ll bring tears to the eyes of those who are willing to stick with the entire movie.

Considering all of the tonal shifts, it’s not surprising that the Hollywood studios didn’t know what to make of The Ninth Configuration. The film was written and directed by William Peter Blatty, the man who wrote the novel and the script for The Exorcist. (The Ninth Configuration was itself based on a novel that Blatty wrote before The Exorcist.) By most reports, the studio execs to whom Blatty pitched the project were hoping for another work of shocking horror. Instead, what they got was an enigmatic meditation on belief and redemption. The Ninth Configuration had the same themes as The Exorcist but it dealt with them far differently. (Because he wrote genre fiction, it’s often overlooked that Blatty was one of the best Catholic writers of his time.) In the end, Blatty ended up funding and producing the film himself. That allowed him complete creative control and it also allowed him to make a truly unique and thought-provoking film.

The Ninth Configuration was probably too weird for the Academy. Though it received some Golden Globe nomination, The Ninth Configuration was ignored by the Oscars. Admittedly, 1980 was a strong year and it’s hard to really look at the films that were nominated for Best Picture and say, “That one should be dropped.” Still, one can very much argue that both Blatty’s script and the atmospheric cinematography were unfairly snubbed. As well, it’s a shame that there was no room for either Stacy Keach or Scott Wilson amongst the acting nominee. Keach, to date, has never received an Oscar nomination. Scott Wilson died in 2018, beloved from film lovers but never nominated by the Academy. Both of them give career-best performances in The Ninth Configuration and it’s a shame that there apparently wasn’t any room to honor either one of them.

The Ninth Configuration is not a film for everyone but, if you have the patience, it’s an unforgettable viewing experience.

Previous Entries In The Unnominated:

Wild Rovers (1971, directed by Blake Edwards)

Posted on May 16, 2025 by Jedadiah Leland

In Montana, Walter Buckman (Karl Malden) runs his ranch with an iron hand, warning his neighbor, Hansen (Sam Gilman) not to even think of allowing his sheep to graze on his land. Walter has two sons, hot-headed John (Tom Skerritt) and the laid back and good-natured Paul (Joe Don Baker). When Walter learns that two of his ranch hands — aging Ross Bodine (William Holden) and young Frank Post (Ryan O’Neal) — have robbed a bank and are heading down to Mexico, he sends John and Paul to bring them back. Walter is a big believer in the law and he’s not going to allow any of his people to get away with breaking it.

Ross is a veteran cowboy, who only robbed the bank after Walter withheld his pay to cover the damage of a saloon fight between Ross and Hansen’s men. Frank is the wilder of the two. He looks up to Ross and Ross is protective of Frank, even if he has a hard time admitting it. Ross and Frank are heading down to Mexico so Ross can retire in peace. Instead of going straight to Mexico, though, they make the mistake of stopping by a small town so Frank can play a little poker and visit the town’s brothel.

Wild Rovers was Blake Edwards’s attempt to make an epic, revisionist western and he includes plenty of shots of the sun setting over the mountains as well as several violent shoot-outs that are shot in Peckinpah-style slow motion. Unfortunately, the story itself isn’t really strong enough to support Edwards’s ambitions and all of the shots of the countryside, while nice to look at, don’t really add up too much. Wild Rovers was also a troubled production, with MGM slashing Edwards’s original three-hour film down to 106 minutes and advertising it with a poster featuring O’Neal hugging Edwards from behind, making the film look like a buddy comedy in the style of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (or an early version of Brokeback Mountain) as opposed to a violent and elegiac western. (In 1986, a director’s cut was released, which ran for 136 minutes.) If you only know Blake Edwards from his Pink Panther movies, the grim and tragedy-filled Wild Rovers will come as a surprise.

One thing that Wild Rovers does have going for it is a good cast. William Holden and an energetic Ryan O’Neal are a solid team and Karl Malden, Tom Skerritt, Rachel Roberts, James Olson, and Moses Gunn all give good performances too. This movie also provides Joe Don Baker with a sympathetic role and he’s very likable as the laid back Paul Buckman. It’s not the type of role that Baker often got to play and it’s obvious that a lot of scenes between John and Paul were cut from the film but, in the truncated version, Joe Don Baker’s Paul Buckman becomes the moral center of the film’s story.

Wild Rovers was a disappointment at the box office, one of many that Edwards suffered in the 70s before he and Peter Sellers brought back Inspector Clouseau.

The Great White Hope (1970, directed by Martin Ritt)

Posted on January 6, 2025 by Jedadiah Leland

The year is 1910 and the sports world is in a panic. For the first time, a black man has won the title of the heavyweight champion of the world. Jack Jefferson (James Earl Jones) had to go to Australia because no American city would agree to host the fight but he came out of it victorious. The proud and outspoken Jefferson finds himself targeted by both the white establishment and black activists who claim that Jefferson has not done enough for his community.

It’s not just Jefferson’s success as a boxer that people find scandalous. It’s also that the married Jefferson has a white mistress, a socialite named Eleanor Brachman (Jane Alexander, in her film debut). While boxing promoters search for a “great white hope” who can take the title from Jefferson, the legal authorities attempt to arrest Jefferson for violating the Mann Act by supposedly taking Eleanor across state lines for “immoral purposes.” Jefferson and Eleanor end up fleeing abroad but even then, their relationship is as doomed as Jefferson’s reign as the heavyweight champ.

Based on a Pulitzer-winning stage play by Howard Sackler, The Great White Hope features Jones and Alexander recreating the roles for which they both won Tonys. Both Jones and Alexander would go on to receive Oscar nominations for their work in the film version. It was the first nomination for Alexander and, amazingly, it was the only nomination that Jones would receive over the course of his career. (It surprises me that he wasn’t even nominated for his work in Field Of Dreams.) Both Jones and Alexander give powerful performances, with Jones dominating every scene as the proud, defiant, and often very funny Jack Jefferson. Jones may not have had a boxer’s physique but he captured the attitude of a man who knew he was the best and who mistakenly believed that would be enough to overcome a racist culture. (Speaking of racist, legendary recluse Howard Hughes reportedly caught the film on television and was so offended by the sight of Jones kissing Alexander that he thought about buying NBC to make sure that the movie would never be aired again.) Hal Holbrook, Chester Morris, Moses Gunn, Marcel Dalio, and R.G. Armstrong all do good work in small roles.

Unfortunately, The Great White Hope still feels like a filmed stage play, despite the attempts made to open up the action. Martin Ritt was a good director of actors but the boxing scenes are never feel authentic and the middle section of the film drags. Jones and Alexander keep the film watchable but The Great White Hope is never packs as strong of a punch as its main character.

Retro Television Review: Homicide: Life On The Street 1.6 “Three Men And Adena”

Posted on November 10, 2024 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Welcome to Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Sundays, I will be reviewing Homicide: Life On The Street, which aired from 1993 to 1999, on NBC! It can be viewed on Peacock.

This week, we finally meet the arraber.

Episode 1.6 “Three Men and Adena”

(Dir by Martin Campbell, originally aired on March 3rd, 1995)

This week’s episode opens with Tim Bayliss and Frank Pembleton preparing to interrogate Risley Tucker (Moses Gunn). Tucker is the arraber who Bayliss believes is responsible for murdering Adena Watson. Adena used to work for Tucker, helping him take care of his horse before her mother told Adena that she didn’t want her spending so much time with Tucker. As Tucker himself puts it, people tend to view arrabers (men who sell fruits and vegetables from a horse-drawn carriage) as being nomads. As Tucker himself is a recovering alcoholic who was previously charged with (but not convicted of) statutory rape, it’s understandable why Adena’s mother didn’t want her spending time alone with him. It’s also easy to understand why Bayliss is convinced that Tucker is guilty. Pembleton, meanwhile, is not as convinced.

Bayliss and Pembleton have already brought Tucker down to the station three times and interrogated him. Giardello also points out that Tucker has been interviewed a total of 10 times about the case and, if he’s not charged after his latest interrogation, he’ll have grounds for a harassment suit. Bayliss and Pembleton have fourteen hours to interrogate Tucker one final time and try to get a confession out of him. After fourteen hours, they have to either arrest Tucker or send him home. Giardello says that regardless of what happens, Bayliss has to go back into the regular rotation after this interrogation. Bayliss’s time of exclusively investigating the Watson case is coming to an end.

Tucker arrives at the station and Bayliss and Pembleton get to work, trying to manipulate him into slipping up and confessing.

Considering how much they initially disliked each other, it’s interesting to watch how smoothly Bayliss and Pembleton work together in this episode. Bayliss takes on the role of the “bad cop,” flat out accusing Tucker of killing Adena and shoving what little evidence they have in Tucker’s face. At first, Pembleton plays the “good cop,” asking Tucker about what it’s like to be an arraber before moving on to discussing Tucker’s alcoholism. Tucker says that he hasn’t had a drink in sixteen months. Even when Pembleton asks if it’s possible that he slipped up and had a drink and blacked out on the night that Adena died, Tucker insists that he hasn’t touched a drop in sixteen months.

Bayliss and Pembleton work well together but Tucker remains adamant that he did not kill Adena. Even when Bayliss threatens to press Tucker’s face against a hot pipe, Tucker swears he didn’t kill Adena. Even when Pembleton gets Tucker to admit that he had feelings for Adena, Tucker says he didn’t kill Adena. Tucker defiantly demands to take a polygraph and he passes it. Bayliss, knowing that polygraphs are inadmissible in court and are hardly reliable arbiters of the truth, tells him that he failed. At one point, the emotionally exhausted Tucker says that he’s not even sure if he’s innocent or not anymore. That’s as close as Tucker comes to confessing.

As the interrogation wears on, Tucker starts to fight back and it’s somewhat jolting to realize that he’s been aware of how Bayliss and Pembleton have been manipulating him from the start. He accuses Pembleton of thinking that he’s better than other black people. He accuses Bayliss of having a dark side, pointing out that Bayliss was prepared to torture him to get a confession to a crime that Tucker insists he didn’t do. It’s obvious that, in both cases, Tucker has correctly read both men. Pembleton and Bayliss react by ganging up on Tucker, bombarding him with questions. Tucker breaks down and starts to cry but, as time runs out, he continues to insist that he didn’t kill Adena Watson.

In the end, Tucker ends up sitting in the break room, watching television and waiting for someone to take him home. Bayliss packs up all of the evidence in the Watson case, knowing that he failed to get the confession that he needed. Despite not getting the confession, Bayliss has finally won Pembleton’s respect. Pembleton tells Bayliss that he now believes Tucker is guilty. Bayliss admits that he’s no longer as sure as he once was.

It says something about the strength of this episode that I’m not fully convinced of Tucker’s guilt as well. When the episode started, I was sure that the arraber was guilty. By the time it ended, my feelings were a bit more mixed. For all of the emotional turmoil that Tucker went through over the course of the interrogation, he remained adamant that he didn’t kill Adena Watson. Tucker confessed to being an alcoholic. He confessed to having gotten into fights in the past. He confessed to having pedophiliac feelings towards Adena. But the only time he even slightley wavered in his claim that he didn’t kill Adena was when he was so exhausted that he barely knew what he was saying. As well, the evidence against him was almost entirely circumstantial. Evidence was found that Adena had been in Tucker’s barn but there was no way to prove that she was there the night she died. Tucker’s barn did mysteriously burn down after Adena’s murder but there was no way to prove that Tucker burned it down to hide evidence. I suspect Risley Tucker probably was guilty. But if I was on a jury, I’d probably have to say that, without a confession, there was too much reasonable doubt.

By the end of the interrogation, all three men are exhausted. The viewer is exhausted too! This is an intense episode, one that plays out like a particularly kinetic, three-person play. Kyle Secor and Andre Braugher continue to prove themselves to be a brilliant team but, in this episode, they’re equally matched by Moses Gunn, who keeps you guessing as far as Risley Tucker’s guilt or innocence is concerned. Gunn, who died a few months after this episode aired, gives a performance that leaves you feeling as conflicted about Tucker as the two detectives. If Tucker is guilty, then he’s a soulless monster who has gotten away with murder. If Tucker is innocent, then we’ve just spent 50 minutes watching an elderly, recovering alcoholic go through a truly Hellish experience. As the episode ends, the viewer is aware that all three of the men will be changed forever as a result of the 14 hours they spent in the box.

This was an outstanding episode, one that ended on a note of sadness. Adena Watson’s killer will never be caught. If Tucker did it, he got away with it. If Tucker didn’t do it, Bayliss and Pembleton’s obsessive pursuit of him means that the real killer is probably already far away from Baltimore. Not every case gets solved and not everyone gets justice. To quote Casino’s Ace Rothstein, “And that’s that.”

Late Night Retro Television Review: Highway To Heaven 2.7 “Popcorn, Peanuts, and Crackerjacks”

Posted on April 25, 2024 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Welcome to Late Night Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Thursdays, I will be reviewing Highway to Heaven, which aired on NBC from 1984 to 1989. The entire show is currently streaming on Freevee and several other services!

This week’s episode was about baseball so guess who I made watch it with me?

Episode 2.7 “Popcorn, Peanuts, and Crackerjacks”

(Dir by Michael Landon, originally aired on November 13th, 1985)

The Tucson Toros need some help!

The Toros are a minor league baseball team. For years, they have been coached by the kindly Doc Brigsby (Keenan Wynn). When D.W. Rogers (John Milford) purchased the team, one of the first things that he wanted to do was get rid of old Brigsby. But one of the conditions of the sale was that Rogers would retain Brigsby as long as the Toros won more games than they lost. Rogers has been trying to sabotage the team ever since. He’s traded and released all of the team’s best players. The remaining players are dispirited and no longer having fun on the field. It looks like the Toros are about to have their first losing season.

Meanwhile, Ted Tilley (Moses Gunn) is out of a job. Ted was once a pitcher in the Negro Leagues, nicknamed the Louisiana Flash. After he stopped playing, he ran the souvenir stand at the stadium and always made sure to hand out free game tickets to all of the neighborhood kids who did well in school. However, when Rogers signs a contract with a professional vending company, Ted finds himself out-of-work.

Or, at least, he does until two sportswriters named Jonathan Smith and Mark Gordon write an article about the Toros’s bad season. Hoping to generate some positive publicity, Rogers follows a suggestion from Jonathan and signs Ted to the team. Ted makes history as the oldest professional baseball player and teaches the team how to have fun on the field. The Toros suddenly start winning games. But will they win enough to save Brigsby’s job?

Since this episode was about baseball, I got my sister to watch with me. I asked Erin if the episode was, in any way, a realistic portrayal of the game. Erin’s response was to laugh so I’m going to guess that means that most baseball teams would not put an elderly man on the mound as pitcher with the game on the line. Of course, the only reason that Rogers demands that Tilley be put in the game is because he wants the Toros to lose so that he can fire poor old Brigsby. That doesn’t seem like a smart business decision to me but then again, Rogers is typical of the businessmen who appear on this show. He smokes a cigar, he smirks when firing people, and he’s not allowed any sort of redemption.

Myself, I have to wonder just how exactly Jonathan and Mark got jobs as sportswriters. Mark doesn’t even know what their heavenly assignment is until they arrive at the stadium but somehow, within days, Mark and Jonathan’s byline is appearing in the local newspaper. We don’t ever see them get hired by the newspaper or having to deal with any editors. Usually, Mark and Jonathan take blue collar jobs that don’t require them to explain their past employment history or even offer up a list of references. But newspapers generally like to hire actual journalists to report their stories and not drifters who just need a job and a place to crash for a few days. Did the paper ask Jonathan and Mark for references or to see copies of their past work? Did Jonathan break the angel code by lying to the editors? It just seems weird.

Overall, this episode was predictable but heartfelt, in the usual Highway to Heaven fashion. Moses Gunn brough Ted Tilley to wonderful life and it was hard not to be touched by his joy when he struck out a member of the opposing team. Realistic or not, it was a sweet episode.

Retro Television Reviews: Haunts of the Very Rich (dir by Paul Wendkos)

Posted on February 12, 2023 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Welcome to Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Sundays, I will be reviewing the made-for-television movies that used to be a primetime mainstay. Today’s film is 1972’s Haunt of the Very Rich! It can be viewed on YouTube!

The 1972 made-for-TV movie Haunts of the Very Rich opens with a lengthy shot of Lyle (Tony Bill) and Laurie (Donna Mills) sharing a very long kiss. Obviously, they’re very happy and why shouldn’t they be? They’re young. They’re beautiful. They’re in love. They’re newly married. And …. they’re on an airplane!

It’s a private plane, one that’s heading towards a resort called The Portals of Eden. There’s only a few other people on the plane. David Woodrough (Lloyd Bridges) is a businessman who is looking forward to spend some time away from his wife, especially if it means a chance to get to know one of the other passengers, Ellen Blunt (Cloris Leachman). Annette Larner (Anne Francis) is also traveling alone and is hoping she might finally be able to get some sleep without having to take a handful of pills beforehand. Rev. Fellows (Robert Reed) appears to have lost his faith. And then there’s Al Hunsicker (Ed Asner). Hunsicker’s a little bit confused about how he ended up on the airplane. As far as he knows, he’s supposed to be on his way to a business meeting in Dallas. Portals of Eden? Al’s never heard of the place! Of course, nobody on the plane really seems to be sure where they’re going or how they even got on the plane in the first place. Strangely, Al appears to be the only one who finds any of this to be strange.

When the plane lands, they discover that the Portals of Eden is a large hotel sitting at the edge of a tropical wilderness. Their host, the always polite Mr. Seacrist (Moses Gunn), welcomes them but avoids answering anyone’s questions. Seacrist tells them to enjoy their stay.

For the first day, that’s exactly what everyone does. They relax. They indulge in a little pampering. David gets to know Ellen. Al is still worried about getting to his business meeting but he is assured that he can always fly out to Dallas the following day.

The night, a violent storm hits. The next day, everyone wakes up to discover that the resort is nearly deserted. There’s no electricity. There’s no way to call out. There’s not much food. Seacrist tells them not to worry. He assures them that help is on the way. As the guests wait to be rescued, they finally start to wonder just how exactly the ended up at the resort in the first place. They realize that they’ve almost all had a recent brush with death. David swears to Ellen that he’ll file for divorce as soon as they get back home but what if they don’t have a home to which to return? Occasionally, the guests hear a plane flying overhead. At one point, they even see one land. But every time, just when it seems like they’re on the verge of finally being rescued, the plane vanishes.

And things just get stranger from there.

If Jean-Paul Sartre had ended up in the United States, writing for The Bold and the Beautiful, the end result would probably look a lot like Haunts of the Very Rich. Considering that this is a made-for-TV movie from the early 70s, Haunts of the Very Rich is a surprisingly effective and atmospheric little horror film. The story itself won’t exactly win any points for originality. You’ll guess the secret of Portals of Eden long before any of the characters in the film. But still, it’s a well-directed and nicely acted film, one that’s topped off with a suitably surreal (if somewhat abrupt) finale.

Haunts of the Very Rich can currently be found on YouTube and I recommend it for anyone who likes their melodrama served with a side of existential dread.

Black Brigade (1970, directed by George McCowan)

Posted on April 11, 2020 by Jedadiah Leland

During the closing days of World War II, General Clark (Paul Stewart) wants to capture a Nazi-controlled dam and he thinks he’s found just the man for the job. Captain Beau Carter (Stephen Boyd) is a tough and good with a knife and a gun. Carter is sent to take command of a ragtag group of soldiers who have spent the last three years waiting for combat. The only catch is that the soldiers are all black and Captain Carter is a racist redneck.

This was an Aaron Spelling-produced television movie that was originally broadcast under the name Carter’s Army. When it was released on video, the name was changed to Black Brigade, probably in an effort to fool viewers into thinking that it was a cool blaxploitation film instead of a simplistic TV movie. The film has gotten some attention because of the cast, which is full of notable names. Roosevelt Grier plays Big Jim. Robert Hooks is Lt. Wallace while Glynn Turman is Pvt. Brightman (who keeps a journal full of the details of the imaginary battles in which he’s fought) and Moses Gunn brings his natural gravitas to the role of Pvt. Hayes. Probably the two biggest names in the cast are Richard Pryor as the cowardly Crunk and Billy Dee Williams as Pvt. Lewis, who says that he’s from “Harlem, baby.”

Don’t let any of those big names fool you. Most of them are lucky if they get one or two lines to establish their character before getting killed by the Germans. The movie is mostly about Stephen Boyd blustering and complaining before eventually learning the error of his ways. The problem is that Carter spends most of the film as such an unrepentant racist that it’s hard not to hope that one of the soldiers will shoot him in the back when he least expects it. The other problem is that, for an action movie, there’s not much action. Even the climatic battle at the dam is over in just a few minutes.

There is one daring-for-its-time scene where Lt. Wallace comes close to kissing a (white) member of the German Resistance, Anna Renvic (Susan Oliver). When Carter sees him, he angrily orders Wallace to never touch a white woman. Anna slaps Carter hard and tells him to mind his own goddamn business. It’s the best scene in the movie. Otherwise, Black Brigade is forgettable despite its high-powered cast.

Horror Film Review: Firestarter (dir by Mark L. Lester)

Posted on October 5, 2019 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Adapted from Stephen King novel, 1984’s Firestarter is a film about a girl with a very special power.

Back in the day, a bunch of college students needed weed money so they took part in a government experiment. Half of them were told that they were being given a placebo. The other half were told that we would be given a low-grade hallucinogen.

Surprise! The government lied! It turns out that everyone was given the experimental drug! Some of the students ended up going crazy. One unfortunate hippie clawed his eyes out. Meanwhile, Vicky (Heather Locklear) gained the ability to read minds. She also fell in love with Andy McGee (David Keith), a goofy fellow who gained the ability to mentally control people’s actions. They married and had a daughter named Charlie (played by a very young Drew Barrymore). Charlie, it turns out, can set things on fire! She’s a firestarter!

Well, of course, the government can’t just leave the McGees out there, controlling minds and setting things on fire. Soon, the McGees are being pursued by the standard collection of men in dark suits. Vicky is killed off-screen, leaving Charlie and Andy to try to find some place where they’ll be safe.

Good luck with that! This is the government that we’re talking about. The thing with films like this is that the government can do practically anything but it never occurs to them to not all dress in dark suits. I mean, it just seems like it would be easier for all of these secret agents to operate if they weren’t automatically identifiable as being secret agents. Anyway, Andy and Charlie are eventually captured and taken to The Farm, a really nice country estate where Andy and Charlie are kept separate from each other and everyone keeps talking about national security.

Running the Farm is Capt. Hollister and we know that he’s a bad guy because he wears a suit and he’s played by Martin Sheen. Working with Hollister is John Rainbird (George C. Scott), a CIA assassin who kills people with a karate chop across the nose. When Charlie refuses to show off her firemaking abilities unless she’s allowed to talk to her father, Rainbird disguises himself as a custodial engineer and proceeds to befriend Charlie. Of course, Rainbird’s plan is to kill Charlie once she’s displayed the extent of her powers….

Stephen King has written that he considers this film to be one of the worst adaptations of one of his novels but, to be honest, I think the movie is actually a bit of an improvement on the source material. Firestarter is probably the least interesting of Stephen King’s early novels. Supposedly, Charlie was based on King’s youngest daughter and, reading the book, it’s obvious that everyone’s fear of Charlie is mostly a metaphor for a father trying to figure out how to raise a daughter. Unfortunately, instead of concentrating on those primal fears, the book gets bogged down in boomer paranoia about MK-ULTRA experiments.

The movie, however, is just silly enough to be kind of charming. For example, consider the way that Andy grabs his forehead and bugs out his eyes whenever he uses his powers. Andy’s powers may be slowly killing him but he just looks so goofy whenever he uses them that you just can’t help but be entertained. And then you’ve got Drew Barrymore sobbing while setting people on fire and George C. Scott growling through all of his dialogue and even Martin Sheen gets a scene where he gets excited and starts jumping up and down. (And don’t even get me started on Art Carney and Louise Fletcher as the salt-of-the-Earth farmers who try to protect Andy and Charlie….) Some of the special effects are a bit hokey, as you might expect from a film made in 1984 but occasionally, there’s a good shot of something (or someone) burning up. It’s all so over-the-top and relentlessly dumb that you can’t help but be entertained. You can even forgive the fact that basically nothing happens between the first 10 and the last 15 minutes of the movie.

Firestarter‘s silly but I liked it.

Horror on the Lens: Haunts of the Very Rich (dir by Paul Wendkos)

Posted on October 10, 2018 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Today’s horror on the lens is a 1972 made-for-TV movie, Haunts of the Very Rich!

What happens when a bunch of rich people find themselves on an airplane with no memory of how they got there? Well, first off, they land at a luxury resort! But what happens when the resort suddenly turns out to be deserted and the guests discover that there’s no apparent way out!?

You can probably already guess the film’s “surprise” ending but Haunts of the Very Rich is still an entertaining little film. You can check out my more in-depth review here!

Enjoy!

That’s Blaxpolitation! 12: SHAFT (MGM 1971)

Posted on March 27, 2018 by gary loggins

cracked rear viewer

“That Shaft is a bad mother…”

“Shut your mouth!”

“But I’m talkin’ about Shaft”

“We can dig it!”

– lyrics from Isaac Hayes’ “Theme from SHAFT

1971’s SHAFT, starring Richard Roundtree as “the black private dick that’s a sex machine to all the chicks”, is the movie that kicked off the whole 70’s Blaxploitation phenomenon. Sure, Mario Van Pebbles’ indie SWEET SWEETBACK’S BADASSSSS SONG was released three months earlier, but it’s X-rating kept younger audiences out of the theaters. SHAFT reached more people with it’s R rating, and the publicity machine of MGM behind it. In fact, John Shaft not only saved the day in the film, but helped save the financially strapped MGM from bankruptcy!

The opening sequence alone makes it worth watching, as the camera pans down the gritty mean streets of New York City (42nd Street, to be exact!) and that iconic funky theme song by Isaac…

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