Only now does it occur to me... THE BLACK WINDMILL (1974)

Only now does it occur to me... that while THE BLACK WINDMILL is known for being a much-maligned Don Siegel flick featuring a bored Michael Caine as a British secret service agent who is (supposedly) acting with urgency to rescue his kidnapped son:

"I have a particular set of skills....skills I have acquired over a very long career... skills that make me a nightmare for people like you... but if you want to see them in action, you'll have to give me a better motive than kidnapping my dumb son"

 that while it is known for co-starring a malevolent John Vernon (in a rare non-school principal role):

that while it is known for an azz-kickin', trumpet-funk '70s soundtrack by Roy Budd, and that while it is known for wasting as much wine as Stanley Kubrick wasted fake blood on the elevator scene from THE SHINING:

REDRUM.... TOLREM

...it really ought to be known as the premiere venue for Donald Pleasence to fondle a fake mustache with impunity.


He just can't 


keep his hands  


off the damn thing 


it's practically pathological, and,

  
in reacting to it, I think Michael Caine affords it more acting headspace than the concept of his kidnapped son. 

 
The only time Donald's not touching it is when he has a broken arm and both hands are fully preoccupied.

Also, I guess it bears mentioning that there's a scene near the end set at a windmill. But the windmill's not black, and there's nothing particularly meaningful about it.

It'd be like if Don Siegel called DIRTY HARRY "THE OLD QUARRY" or INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS "THE HIGHWAY OVERPASS."

Film Review: CHARLEY VARRICK (1973, Don Siegel)

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 111 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Walter Matthau (CHARADE, THE TAKING OF PELHAM ONE TWO THREE), Joe Don Baker (WALKING TALL, MITCHELL), John Vernon (SAVAGE STREETS, DIRTY HARRY), Andy Robinson (DIRTY HARRY, HELLRAISER), Sheree North (THE OUTFIT, THE SHOOTIST), Norman Fell (THE GRADUATE, THE KILLERS), Felicia Farr (KOTCH, 3:10 TO YUMA), Craig R. Baxley (also did the stunts and directed ACTION JACKSON and many episodes of THE A-TEAM). Music by Lalo Schifrin (MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE, DIRTY HARRY, THE MANITOU). Written by Dean Riesner (DIRTY HARRY, PLAY MISTY FOR ME, FATAL BEAUTY) and Howard Rodman (COOGAN'S BLUFF, MADIGAN), and adapted from the novel THE LOOTERS by John Reese.
Tag-line: "When he runs out of dumb luck he always has genius to fall back on!"
Best one-liner: "Sooner or later, you're gonna tell me everything you know. So why not save yourself a great deal of pain, tell me now."

Don Siegel is the man. And CHARLEY VARRICK just might be his amoral, cutthroat masterpiece. THE KILLERS' hitmen protagonists, DIRTY HARRY's mildly fascist sensibilities, and COOGAN'S BLUFF's hateful 'tude toward the Love Generation were just pit stops on the way.

The late 60's and early 70's were chock full of gritty flicks like this; take-no-prisoners crime films populated by brutal, pistol-whippin', lady-slappin' sons-o-bitches: THE OUTFIT (with VARRICK co-stars Sheree North and Joe Don Baker), POINT BLANK, Bava's KIDNAPPED, PRIME CUT, THE MECHANIC, MEAN STREETS, GET CARTER, THE YAKUZA...I could go on.


Walter Matthau, as 'Charley Varrick,' is a gum-chewing, calculating, mercenary thief. His gang kills cops like some people check their watch, and they're willing to risk it all for a measley couple of grand from a local bank in Buttfuck, New Mexico. The only problem is it just happened to be a mob front, and they've ended up with three-quarters of a million dollars.

(But was it truly coincidence? See if you can determine the answer from Charley's unceasingly indifferent gaze.) But he's not a maniac. Far from it. He's perhaps the most rational being on the planet- completely committed to creating a plan that will ensure his survival during the certainly impending shitstorm. Said storm involves a totally dickish, crooked bank exec (John Vernon, who's played some of the best a-holes of all time):

a blundering gang member (played by Andy Robinson, the simperlingly psychotic 'Scorpio Killer' from DIRTY HARRY):

and the equally amoral but far more vicious "Molly" (Joe Don Baker), who is without a doubt the inspiration for Cormac McCarthy's killing machine, "Anton Chigurh":

(A lot here seems like the direct inspiration for NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN.) In fact, this film so openly flouts Hollywood rules and convention, that, as you watch it, you can literally feel its reverberations on American cinema through the years since. Tarantino, the Coen brothers, Christopher Nolan (THE DARK KNIGHT's clown-masked bank theft of mob money opening pays homage), and many others -some openly, and some not- have dug deep into the many layers of VARRICK and extracted little bits here and there for their own purposes. But it’s such an epic, cynical tour-de-force, that no amount of depths-trolling can deaden its punch-in-the-guts impact (or the fact that the finale astonishingly involves a '67 Chrysler Imperial versus a biplane).

Five stars.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: SAVAGE STREETS (1984, Danny Steinmann)

Stars: 3 of 5.
Running Time: 93 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Linda Blair, John Vernon, Linnea Quigley (RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD, NIGHT OF THE DEMONS, NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET 4), Robert Dryer (CYBORG 2, THE BORROWER).
Tag-lines: "An eye for an eye."
Best one-liner: "Welcome home... ASSHOLES!"

I generally go in to a Linda Blair flick intending to yuck it up at her lack of talent and the fact she, at 24, looks like an odd middle-aged woman with a baby's face, but, invariably, I end up feeling kind of bad about it. See ROLLER BOOGIE.

Now, SAVAGE STREETS is the kind of 80's revenge flick that certainly hits all the right notes, but doesn't hit them loudly, obnoxiously, laughably, bafflingly, or Italian-ly enough to become a bona fide trash classic. There's a lot of good stuff, though: John Vernon as the trash-talking a-hole principal ("Go fuck an iceberg!"),

Linda Blair cackling with a crossbow and swiggin' peach brandy, extreme close-ups on crotch grabs, gang gals voraciously devouring ice cream, and the exchange: "Too bad you're not double-jointed!" -"Why?" "Because if it were, you'd be able to bend over and kiss your ass goodbye!"


There's a lot of great unanswered questions, too, like: Where did Linda Blair get bear traps?; If the gangs have no problem murdering and raping and axing people, why do they show up to class?; Why do Linda and her friends yell for her DEAF sister when they can't find her?; Why are there bizarre homages paid to GREASE?; and After all of the mayhem, destruction, crossbows, explosions, murders, and whatnot do the cops show up only at THE END? Ordinarily, a top-notch flick of this genre, like SWITCHBLADE SISTERS or CLASS OF 1984, would take those questions and commence shoving them up your ass, but here, in SAVAGE STREETS, they sort of linger in the air like the rotten leftovers of ROLLER BOOGIE and EXORCIST II.

And, I'm sorry, when your director's greatest credit is FRIDAY THE 13TH V: A NEW BEGINNING (for the non die-hards, yeah, that's the Jason movie WITHOUT JASON)... well, nevermind. I have no follow-up. I guess I just wanted to get that out there. There shoulda been more John Vernon, though, so, yeah. Three stars.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: DIRTY HARRY (1971, Don Siegel)

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 102 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Clint Eastwood, Andy Robinson, John Vernon, John Mitchum, Harry Guardino, John Milius (uncredited screenplay contributions), and a Lalo Schifrin score.
Tag-lines: "You don't assign him to murder cases, You just turn him loose."
Best one-liner: "Stupid kid! Come on, sing everyone! Sing, or I'll go home and kill all your mommies, sing, sing!"

"For $29.50, let it hurt." Of all the directorial "father" figures that molded Clint Eastwood into the legend he is today, I would say that Don Siegel had the greatest impact. Their collaborations (COOGAN'S BLUFF, THE BEGUILED, ESCAPE FROM ALCATRAZ, etc.) embodied a certain counter counter-culture sensibility that sometimes flirted with fascism, but shouldn't be confused for it. Instead, the films are complex dissections of the "man of values" in a world which has none, with our hero gradually realizing that his supposed values systems are in fact shadowy and undefined, and aww, who the hell cares anymore, let's shoot some people.

But then there's no satisfaction from that, either. So, call it what you will, but I think our leather elbow-padded, sweet sunglasses-wearing, constantly squinting, ever-sneering hero perpetually sits in judgment of society- ALL society- from the rich stuffed-shirts to his fellow cops to the hippies.

Plenty of extremes are presented to show you what Harry's not: the skeezy politico mayor (John Vernon), the homicidal racist homophobe Scorpio (Andy Robinson), the by-the-book cops and office drones, street thugs, and innocent victims. But, despite the nihilistic undertones, DIRTY HARRY is hilarious: "Do it at home!" he harshly intones to a young man cruisin' in the park, "Go on out and get some air, fatso!" he growls at Bob Mitchum's overweight brother (and that seriously takes some guts to offend a Mitchum- I guess that means you think you can take on Bob...and maybe Clint can!). And every Siegel flick has at least one amazingly head-scratching moment that fails to immediately sink in. HARRY's is when, in the middle of a crucial stakeout, his binoculars roam across a hippie's apartment, hosting some kind of ridiculous threesome. Instead of the sneer of derision we expect, Harry whispers to himself, "You owe it to yourself to live a little, Harry." WHUTTTT?! Bravo, Harry. Here's five stars- even though I know you'll just throw 'em in the river.

-Sean Gill