After topping Peter O'Toole with the last episode, I eulogise him with a look at his 1972 film, The Ruling Class also starring Alistair Sim, Arthur Lowe and Coral Browne. Then on to a 1957 western classic, 3:10 To Yuma starring Glenn Ford and Van Heflin. Mad English Lords and Sociopathic Stagecoach Robbers. What more do you need?
The podcast of movies more than 20 years old. Giallo, film noir, drama, comedy, musicals, the lot. Sharing the good stuff since 2007
Dec 29, 2013
Paleo-Cinema Podcast 125 - 3:10 To The Ruling Class
After topping Peter O'Toole with the last episode, I eulogise him with a look at his 1972 film, The Ruling Class also starring Alistair Sim, Arthur Lowe and Coral Browne. Then on to a 1957 western classic, 3:10 To Yuma starring Glenn Ford and Van Heflin. Mad English Lords and Sociopathic Stagecoach Robbers. What more do you need?
Dec 15, 2013
Paleo-Cinema Podcast 124 - The Big Sleep Lawrence Of Arabia
For 124 I look at two famous films, one of which I have just seen for the first time. Firstly, we have the 1946 Raymond Chandler novel adaptation, The Big Sleep starring Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall, directed by Howard Hawks and then the 1962 epic, Lawrence of Arabia starrig Peter O'Toole and the deserts of the Middle East. We have feedback as well.
Nov 30, 2013
Paleo-Cinema Podcast 123 - Uptight Vertigo.
Nov 17, 2013
Paleo-Cinema Podcast 122 - The Rules Of The Game/ Letter From An Unknown Woman
This time I'm checking out a couple of classic films from European directors, Firstly, there is the Max Ophuls 1948 movie Letter From An Unknown Woman starring Joan Fontaine and Louis Jordan and then we go to one of the all time classics of any cinema anywhere,
Nov 3, 2013
Paleo-Cinema Podcast 121 Inherit The Wind The Big Heat
For 121 I look at the courtroom drama from 1960, the Evolution Versus Bible-Thumper classic Inherit The Wind starring Spencer Tracy, Frederic March and Gene Kelly then move on to 1953's The Big Heat, a classic noir from Fritz Lang starring Glenn Ford, Lee Marvin and Gloria Grahame. Two classic films.
Oct 6, 2013
Paleo-Cinema 120 - His Majesty The Magic Christian O'Keefe
This time around we have two very different films. The 1954 Pacific Island adventure flick His Majesty O'Keefe starring Burt Lancaster and Andre Morell and then the 1969 comedy The Magic Christian starring Peter Sellers and Ringo Star. We go from copra plantations on the island of Yap to Yul Brynner lips-ynching in drag. Can't ask for much better than that.
Sep 27, 2013
How Many Movies Discussed in Paleo-Cinema Podcast Have You Seen?
With my own little hands, I created a List Challenge of the movies discussed in the podcast. 203 films, believe it or not. You can try the quiz here. You can also use the list as a checklist of movies you might like to see. Enjoy!
Sep 9, 2013
Paleo-Cinema Podcast 119 - Winter Kills Bad Day At Black Rock
For 119 I look at the darkly comedic 1979 political thriller Winter Kills - starring Jeff Bridges, John Huston and a really interesting support cast. From there, we go to a classic of 1950s cinema. John Sturges' Bad Day At Black Rock - starring Spencer Tracy, Robert Ryan, Anne Francis and Walter Brennan
Aug 10, 2013
Paleo-Cinema Podcast 118 - Breathless Band Of Outsiders.
This time around, I'm grokking la nouvelle vague in fullness by looking at two of the coolest French movies of the 1960s, both directed by Jean-Luc Godard. First off there's 1960's Breathless starring Jean-Paul Belmondo and Jean Seberg, followed by Band Of Outsiders starring Anna Karina, Sami Frey and Pierre Brasseur. So get out your Gauloises, your Ricard and your Citroen and enjoy the show.
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Jul 17, 2013
Jul 13, 2013
Paleo-Cinema Podcast 117 - Taxi Driver
This time around Vince Rotolo from the B-Movie Podcast and I enjoy a late night conversation about Martin Scorsese's 1976 classic Taxi Driver. Also, there's feedback.
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Jun 16, 2013
Paleo-Cinema Podcast 116 - Boxcar Bertha Slaughter
For 116 I look at the first two R Rated movies I ever saw. I snuck into them, pretending to be 18 when I was actually 15 at this cinema, the Regal in Liverpool NSW.
The movies are Martin Scorsese's second feature film, the 1972 AIP flick, Boxcar Bertha starring Barbara Hershey and David Carradine
Also, the 1972 blaxploitation flick Slaughter starring Jim Brown, Stella Stevens and an over the top Rip Torn.
Direct Download Link - Right Click To SaveThe movies are Martin Scorsese's second feature film, the 1972 AIP flick, Boxcar Bertha starring Barbara Hershey and David Carradine
Also, the 1972 blaxploitation flick Slaughter starring Jim Brown, Stella Stevens and an over the top Rip Torn.
Jun 14, 2013
50 Classic Movies You Can Watch For Free
Flavorwire has a great set of 50 films you can watch from your 'puter, tablet or phone gratis. The link is HERE and it should keep you going all weekend.
Jun 10, 2013
Scorsese's Essential Films
A fantastic list of essential films from Martin Scorsese. I've seen eighty of the eighty five and I'm tracking down the rest of them.
Here's The Link- Enjoy!May 19, 2013
Paleo-Cinema 115 - The Mask Of Hudson Hawk
This time around, Rupert Pupkin and I shoot the shit about two very different movies: 1944's The Mask Of Dimitrios starring Peter Lorre, Sydney Greenstreet and Zachary Scott. We then zip-pan to one of the two great movies Bruce Willis did in 1991, Hudson Hawk.
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Rupert Pupkin Speaks - Rupert's Blog
Apr 24, 2013
A Subjective History Of Sitting In The Cheap Seats
I
grew up in the 1960s and 1970s. There were a lot of good things about
those times. The music was superb, there were still cars with fins on
them, you could buy enough fish and chips to feed a family with
pocket change and nobody ever complained about not getting a wi-fi
signal.
But
it wasn't all Scott Walker's first album, Chevy Impalas and battered saveloys. For someone like me who would become a dedicated, if
down-market, cinephile it was the best of times and the worst of
times.
This
was an era before movie geeks as we now known them, existed. Yes,
there were cinephiles who usually had goatees without moustaches and
read Cahiers Du Cinema.
Not
me. I was a kid from a working class
suburb. I didn't know the difference between Truffaut and a truffle.
The
cheap suburban cinemas I visited on Saturday afternoons, drive-in
double features and the movies shown on weekend television were the
schools where I learned about movies. Just as my elders were deeply
interested in horse and greyhound racing, football and how to buy
beer on Sundays, I was becoming eerily knowledgeable about cinema
pricing, the relative merits of concession stand snacks and the Dean
Martin Matt Helm films.
Saturday
matinees at the Regal Theatre were my baby sitters. While my father
attended nearby hotels, my brother and I stayed busy watching Elvis
musicals (which I hated), James Coburn as Derek Flint, British
comedies with left-over Ealing alumni, cold war weirdness like Battle Beneath The Earth, caper films and sexist adultery-fantasy
comedies like A Guide For The Married Man. These films –
good, bad and mediocre showed me places I'd never been. They taught
me that there were nothing cooler than going to the movies without
adult supervision, that a well-placed karate chop could take down any
opponent and that pool halls weren't the only places you could
misspend your youth.
Although
I didn't know it at the time, I was becoming a movie geek, a term
which didn't exist until the punk era of the VHS/ Betamax Wars. Geeks
of any sort weren't fashionable before the 1980s. The very word geek
came from the Low German “geck” meaning mad person. Check
out Tyrone Power in Nightmare Alley
for more details.
Geeks were carnival freaks, usually terminal alcoholics, who dressed
up as ape-men and bit the heads off live chickens in side-shows in
Depression Era America. Reality television now works on the same
basic concept.
As
wonderful as Saturday matinees were, there were problems. The
now-simple act of finding and seeing a specific movie was about as
easy as visiting Brigadoon. You had to be in the right
place at the right time and bloody lucky.
Seen through modern eyes the 1960s and 70s were a strange, bleak and austere time for cinephiles. There were no home-VCRs, PVRs, DVDs, Blu-Rays or downloads. Television programmers, film studios, cinema owners and government censors determined if, when, where and how you could see a movie.
In those days there were only four television channels. Channel 2, Channel 7, Channel 9 and the recent start-up Channel 0 or 10, depending on which state you lived in. In those days the stations would stop broadcasting a little after midnight. You'd get the National Anthem then six hours of static. (Shift workers were stuck with Mickey Spillane novels or overnight radio for their entertainment.)
However, there was an exception to the End of Transmission static. Between midnight and dawn on long weekends, Channel 9 or 10 would throw together three or four 1950s science fiction or horror movies they could get cheaply from the distributors and show them. In a weird way this programming decision was an act of faith and the channels never knew how popular or unpopular these marathons were. Ratings were not tallied that late at night. Their only feedback was via letters to either the station themselves or the TV pages of newspapers.
Working
in this information vacuum, the channels didn't advertise the movie
marathons. You had to buy a newspaper, TV Week or TV Times and check
the listings. My brother Garry and I loved movie marathons but there
were objections to us watching them that mostly had to do with the
fact that they were on all night.
However,
we were not unschooled in guile. We had seen The Caper of the Golden Bulls, They Came To Rob Las Vegas and Deadfall. We
knew how to plan and execute covert actions, with or without John Barry
music playing in the background.
So we snuck out of bed, turned the TV volume down low and became familiar with the works of John Agar, Jack Arnold, Beverley Garland and Richard Carlson. It was worth a half-comatose Sunday to stay up all night and watch them. We snuck back to bed before anyone was any the wiser and claimed to be feeling unwell.
So we snuck out of bed, turned the TV volume down low and became familiar with the works of John Agar, Jack Arnold, Beverley Garland and Richard Carlson. It was worth a half-comatose Sunday to stay up all night and watch them. We snuck back to bed before anyone was any the wiser and claimed to be feeling unwell.
Our second possibility of viewing that one desired genre movie was late on Saturday night. Purloining the concept of horror movie hosts from the Americans, the 0-10 Network showed double feature horror movies hosted by four different guys called Deadly Earnest.
The
Deadly Earnests were disgusting ghoulish characters cracking badly
punny jokes in sets decorated with coffins, spider webs and
instruments of medieval torture. Sydney, Brisbane, Melbourne and
Adelaide all had different Deadly Earnests. They all looked different
and they all did their own shtick.
Fortunately
interstate travel was less common in the 1960s and so Deadly Earnest Confusion among seven to fourteen year old boys was kept to
manageable levels.
I
may be biased, but Sydney had the best Deadly Earnest, Ian Bannerman.
He looked like Michael Caine's Harry Palmer as a zombie. He was
Beatlemania meets the walking dead. None of the other Earnests
approached that level of cool.
The
Deadly Earnests hosted and mocked movies like The Hypnotic Eye,
It Came From Beneath The Sea, The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms
and The Monster Of Piedras Blancas. Solid 1950s drive-in fare
sold to television stations in cheap package deals. Again, it
required us to stay up past bedtime, but it wasn't a school night and
so deals were cut, especially if we were visiting family members on
school holidays.
The
theatre managers had more marketing-savvy than the television
networks. They knew their audience and acted accordingly. Lobby cards
for the horror double feature were displayed for two months before
New Year's Eve in an alcove window outside the cinema. Every kid who
went to a Saturday matinee saw the lobby cards and wanted to go to
that one midnight session where Creature From The Black Lagoon
or Psycho or Curucu, Beast Of The Amazon or Caltiki- The Immortal Monster would be shown. The lobby cards teased us
with images of Anthony Perkins, the Gill Man and lesser rubber-suited
monsters. We really wanted to see those films and they were never
shown on television.
In
1948 the Australian
government censors banned all horror movies from all
cinemas.
Let's put this in
context. Hundreds of
thousands of battle-hardened
World
War Two veterans had hit civvy street a couple of
years before. The government decided to protect these ANZACs
from seeing Boris Karloff, Bela Lugosi, Lionel
Atwill or Lon Chaney Jr spookily
imply hideous things that
then occurred off-screen.
I'm sure they were grateful.
This
policy continued for over a decade which meant that by the 60s
and 70s there weren't many prints of classic horror movies in
Australia.
The
censors were even more parochial and paternalistic than that. In the
late 1940s they also expressed grave and serious concern at the
number of crime movies being produced by Hollywood. Many years later,
after the Cahiers Du Cinema guys coined the term
film noir, those very movies would become treasured
parts of cinema history. At the time of their production however,
Australian censors thought they were The Dummy's
Guides To A Life Of Crime. Rififi must have scared
the shit out of them when it came out in the early fifties. That 25
minute jewelry robbery was a How To Guide for budding burglars.
Essentially,
the censors decided that Australian cinema goers could exist solely
on a diet of Rock Hudson/Doris Day comedies, Cecil B. DeMille
biblical epics, Roger and Hammerstein musicals and B-picture starring
Audie Murphy, Jeff Chandler, Jock Mahoney and Sabu.
Came
the 1970s and things changed for the better. The film festival mob,
including an English migrant called David Stratton, got mightily
pissed off by their annual drubbing by the censors. These pioneering
cinephiles were a new breed. They were educated at private schools
alongside people who were by that stage in Federal Parliament. They
also had mates who wrote for newspapers and there was nothing a
mid-20th Century Australian newspaper journalist liked more than
kicking the arses of politicians, unless it was beer, cigarettes,
strippers and two-up games.
So
the government was lobbied with cogent, rational arguments and
finally in 1971 the R Certificate became law. Oddly, it was a
conservative government that created the new rating system, thanks to
a now-revered politician called Don Chipp who later jumped ship to
create his own political party, the Australian Democrats.
Entry
to an R-rated film was restricted to people over the age of eighteen
but the censorship limitations were significantly, if not completely,
removed.
The
first movie to get an R Certificate in Australia was Robert Altman's
McCabe and Mrs Miller. In
its wake came a flood of blaxploitation flicks, Roger Corman women in
prison movies, sweet little dubbed Swedish sex comedies, a
decade or more of back-catalogued Hammer and Amicus horror films
replete with Kensington Gore and heaving bosoms. There
were even locally
made movies like TheAdventures Of Barry McKenzie, Stone
and Alvin Purple. Without the R certificate there would
have been no Ozploitation.
At
first, being in my mid-teens by this stage, I thought the R
certificate was an egregious affront to my self-identified right to
see movies.
This
is where the recklessness of youth has an upside. At the age of
fifteen and feeling both bold and defiant, I splashed Brut aftershave
over myself and tried to get in to see the Jim Brown action movie
Slaughter on a double feature with Scorsese's Boxcar Bertha at
the Regal. Both were R
Rated. I put on a gruff, deep voice and said “One, please”.
The
man in the box office didn't even look up from his newspaper as he
sold me a ticket to cinematic freedom.
(These
days, with multiplexes, the process is simplified: buy a ticket to a
Pixar movie, slip out of the kiddie-flick and into Cinema One where
the R rated film is showing, but you didn't hear that from me.)
After
that initial success at adding three years to my alleged age, I just
fronted up to cinemas and saw anything I liked. Nobody really gave a
shit as long as they sold a ticket.
As
a teenager, there is nothing quite as satisfying as getting away with
something adults have forbidden. Add to that the frisson of female
cinematic nudity and a love of ridiculous violence and breaking the
law never felt so good. While my contemporaries were smoking dope and
drinking illegally, I was watching The Ginger Trilogy,
The Wicker Man and Across 110th Street.
There
were unexpected benefits, too. It made gift-giving dead simple. No
more argyle socks and Blue Stratos deodorant for Father's Day. Give
the old man The Dirty Dozen and Enter The Dragon
and on
Mother's Day you couldn't walk down a suburban street without hearing
Doris Day singing The Deadwood Stage
from Calamity Jane
from every second house.
Communities
began to coalesce around the idea that you could become
knowledgeable about film genres without spending two weeks in another
town at a film festival, or
doing
a University cinema
appreciation course or travelling ridiculous distances to see Ladri Di Biciclette
in
a dingy flea-pit where you could watch the cockroaches run across
your shoes by the light coming from the seat numbers at the end of
the aisle.
Around
this time, with our dial-up modems on Usenet we could start to
download movie stills and short clips in multiple-part postings. Most
of the time there were parts missing from the usenet group feed.
Worse still, someone would call our home phone number and disconnect
the dial-up modem somewhere around the 96th percentile of
a painfully slow download. Digitizing a full movie would have been
cool but nobody had a hard-drive above 20MB at the time and even a
fairly low-resolution feature film took up ten times that.
Speeds
of processors, swifter connections and innovation increased over
time. Moore's Law saw to that. Eventually PCs started coming with CD
instead of floppy disk drives and you could hold a whole movie on
just two disks! I remember that it used to take roughly twenty hours
to digitize a whole VHS tape. I needed a special PC card to do it,
which cost as much, not adjusted for inflation, as the netbook I'm
typing this on.
I
travelled to the USA in 1998 and most of my luggage coming back was
two sports bags crammed with videotapes I couldn't buy in Australia.
When I reached Customs on the way back I pushed my trolley through
the “nothing to declare” doors and suddenly found myself in the
concourse without ever seeing a customs officer. In those pre-9/11
days, this was not entirely unusual. Later I discovered that two of
the films I'd brought in were banned in Australia.
So
zip-pan to the second decade of the 21st Century. We've
now survived DVDs, the Blu-Ray/HD War, and moved forward to
bittorrent and digital downloads. Where once you had to go to a
cinema to see a new release movie, now you don't even have to leave
the couch.
This
blossoming of movie availability has yielded unexpected benefits.
Without it we wouldn't have Quentin Tarantino, the video store clerk
who made good, or the vast numbers of film festivals, rooftop
cinemas, home theatres, HBO and best of all, audiences who are
cinematically literate.
The
physical manifestation of movies has come full circle. From the
cinema-only days when all we saw of the physical media of movies were
anonymous metal boxes lined up outside projection booths, all we now
see of them are icons on a screen. Copies of movies have again become
all but invisible but this time, we consumers control them.
Movie
studios now have their own spy agencies, con artists, shifty lawyers
and strong-arm merchants to attempt to enforce their copyright. These
daughter-industries of the entertainment corporations resemble
nothing so much as the Feds in an old Warner Brothers gangster movie
trying to enforce prohibition. We have now reached an age when
stopping the piracy of films, music and books is like trying to stop
neutrinos with a tennis racquet. From holding all the cards and
strongly controlling access, the authorities now hold a pair of
deuces and we know the bouncer.
Technology
gives us a choice of which movies we see and when, and it also gives
us the ability to share the passion for cinema in ways previously
unimaginable. The diaspora of cinema both geographically and
technologically, and the gift of being
able to talk globally about films I love and hate enriches my
life. In my lifetime the definition of cinema has changed radically but I still get that frisson when the lights go, the electric shadows begin and I'm about to see a new movie.
Apr 22, 2013
Paleo-Cinema Podcast 114 - The Criminal Modesty Blaise.
For Paleo-Cinema 114, I look at two movies directed by Joseph Losey. In the 1960 prison film The Criminal, Stanley Baker goes up against the system. In the 1966 Eurospy spoof Modesty Blaise, the style is much greater than the substance, and Dirk Bogarde steals the show.
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Mar 30, 2013
Mar 23, 2013
Paleo-Cinema Podcast 113 - Guys And Dolls, Paint Your Wagon
For 113 I look at a couple of musicals in which non-singing actors sing. The actors are Clint Eastwood, Lee Marvin and Marlon Brando and the movies are 1955's Guys And Dolls and 1969's bloated, over the top musical Paint Your Wagon.
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Feb 24, 2013
Paleo-Cinema Podcast 112 - Seven Men From Now Ride Lonesome
For Double One Two I discover and delight in two of Budd Boetticher and Randolph Scott's 's Ranown Cycle Westerns, 1956's Seven Men From Now and 1959's Ride Lonesome. These movies are westerns distilled to a fine essence.
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The Paleo-Cinema Cafe On FaceBook
Jan 26, 2013
Paleo-Cinema Podcast 111- More Music And Some Personal History
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