With its rather edgy, alluring title, 1968's Naked You Die (also known as The Young, the Evil and the Savage, as well as Schoolgirl Killer), you’d think you are in for a highly controversial giallo, but, as this dates from the 60s, a few years prior to when this style of film started pushing the boundaries of violence and sex, you’re actually in for a slightly more traditional murder mystery compared to what the title might suggest. After an unknown piece of luggage in the form of a giant, heavy trunk arrives at St. Hilda’s College (which is basically a posh boarding school for young women) along with a few new staff members, including husky voiced, goth like science teacher Mrs. Clay (Betty Low) and ultra athletic gym teacher and swim instructor Di Brazzi (Giovanni Di Benedetto), things turn unexpectedly murderous rather quickly.

Filling in a lot of the back story gaps of the 2015 sensation Mad Max: Fury Road – which was a spectacle for its non-stop pedal to the medal action, George Miller’s prequel to the fourth film of the franchise, Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (2024), sets aside some of the thrills (but don’t worry, they are still aplenty) in order to explain more about his post-apocalyptic landscape and his main character at the centre of the story – the titular Furiosa. Rather intriguingly, this screenplay was already written during the filming of Fury Road – it was handed out at the time to help the actors better understand who their characters are and where they came from. For those of you who have seen the 2015 edition, this narrative will explain how Furiosa (originally Charlize Theron in Fury Road, now the younger version is played by Alyla Browne, the teen version by Anya Taylor-Joy)

It’s usually hard to bet against Barbara Stanwyck. Starting her career in the late 1920s, within a few years she was already churning out star making roles as plucky working class girls who could rise to the top: think Ten Cents a Dance (1931) and Baby Face (1933) – both reviewed here on Filmizon, only to further elevate herself during the film noir era with starring roles like Double Indemnity (1944) and The Strange Love of Martha Ivers (1946) – also both on Filmizon, she even conquered television later in her career as matriarch Victoria Barkley in 112 episodes of Big Valley from the mid to late 1960s. In other words, it’s rather unusual to see her in a clunker... though with the film looked at here today, Shopworn (1932), directed by Nick Grinde, Stanwyck herself described it as, “one of those terrible pictures they sandwiched in when you started”.

The movie Roger Moore made directly before taking over the iconic role of James Bond for over a decade starting in 1973, The Man Who Haunted Himself (1970), co-adapted and directed by Basil Dearden from the novel “The Strange Case of Mr Pelham by Anthony Armstrong, is perhaps as un-Bond-like as possible (despite Moore uttering the quote above), which may be why the star also frequently suggested that this was his best film. Harold Pelham (Moore) is in a high stress position at a marine technology company – in which a merger is being pressured from an outside company, which, when combined with his rather awkward version of a stiff upper lip attitude, has left his marriage with Eve (Hildegarde Neil) rather cool and aloof.

Transporting its Italian comic book roots to the big screen, Danger: Diabolik (1968), directed by Mario Bava (Blood and Black Lace) and produced by powerhouse Dino De Laurentiis (Barbarella), plays like a vivid three dimensional escapade that fuses elements of swinging sixties spy chic, an early take on the anti-hero, a greedy twist on the Robin Hood tales of yore, and splashes of kitschy Batman (that is, the television series), all coming together for plenty of frivolous fun. The titular Diabolik (John Phillip Law) is a sort of master thief, a black spandex wearing, Jaguar E-type driving genius who thrives on stealing money from an unnamed European government – which, at best, is incompetent, at worst, corrupt users of their taxpaying base. Though, unlike Robin Hood, he keeps the oodles of cash for himself and his helpful mini-skirt wearing girlfriend Eva Kant (Marisa Mell).

There is no doubt that Roberto Benigni will forever have his name etched in the annals of film history after his Academy Award winning film Life is Beautiful – which took home Best Foreign Language Film, Best Score (for Nicola Piovani), and brought forth a most special moment when Benigni climbed atop the seats of the theatre to accept his Best Actor award. Yet, it is a bit of a shame that some of his pre-1997 works are lesser known outside of his native Italy. Case in point, the comedy Johnny Stecchino, circa 1991. Co-written (along with Vincenzo Cerami), directed and starring Benigni, he plays the titular character as well as a near identical lookalike of the man (who is actually our protagonist). Here’s a quick translation – Stecchino means toothpick. So, to explain, Dante is a charming yet rather simple bus driver (who is also trying to pull a disability scam with the government), when one day, he luckily. . . or perhaps unluckily, almost gets run into by a beautiful woman named Maria (Nicoletta Braschi – Benigni’s real life wife) – who seems to be immediately intrigued by the man. As she would exclaim – “Santa Cleopatra!”