A Law Unto Themselves

One of the most divisive films of the year – a love it or hate it type (in which most fall into the latter) is Vaughn Stein’s 2018 flick Terminal. . . a feature steeped in film noir, dystopic future and gothic horror, a glossy B movie that pays tribute to the 1940s, Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner, the films of Brian De Palma, Quentin Tarantino, Guy Ritchie and tales the likes of Edgar Allan Poe and Lewis Carroll. As if dropped down the proverbial rabbit hole, Stein transports us into a dichotomous world, wet and sleek, decrepit and glossy, dangerously alluring, a Terminal (that seems to lead to nowhere) in which we find Annie (Margot Robbie) spinning her nasty web. Porting numerous garbs (one a striking red coat) and hair resembling Veronica Lake, the forking story has her working in the looming locale’s all-night diner. . . a waitress with a sharp tongue and cantankerously flirtatious attitude. Chatting up a sickly English professor, Bill (Simon Pegg), as he waits for the arrival of the next train to nowhere, his illness piques the fatale in the femme.

Combining two of the most fascinating Italian genres of the 1970s, giallo and poliziotteschi (that is, thriller and crime/action), 1975's The Suspicious Death of a Minor (also known as Too Young to Die) uses more subtle strokes of violence and nudity compared to many other giallo features from the time, instead building suspense and energy by way of highly original set pieces. Directed by Sergio Martino (this is his sixth and final giallo, another example being Your Vice Is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key), he introduces us to the picturesque yet dangerous world of Milan, circa 1975 – a place where we find a young prostitute named Marisa (Patrizia Castaldi) on the run from an unsettling figure in mirrored glasses. Attempting to meet with undercover detective, Paolo Germi (Claudio Cassinelli – the actor sadly died in a helicopter crash while filming another Martino picture – 1986's Hands of Steel), she is eliminated by the stone cold proficient assassin before being able to pass on any actionable information.

With a stellar cast, those behind 1954's Riot in Cell Block 11 did not take the approach of procuring the biggest names available, instead, they brought together a group of character actors that lived their parts – and all surrounded by real prisoners and guards, who played extras during production. Directed by Don Siegel (Invasion of the Body Snatchers; Dirty Harry), and produced by Walter Wanger (inspired to make the film after serving a four month prison sentence and being wholly unnerved – he was jailed for shooting his wife’s [Joan Bennett] agent, Jennings Lang, whom she was having an affair with – one bullet penetrated his hip, the other, his groin – clearly we know what he was aiming at), the team cast Neville Brand as a convicted murderer who heads up the riot (the former World War 2 combat soldier was the fourth most decorated American from the period), while his ‘Crazy’ second in command was developed by Leo Gordon (another convict who was shot in the gut during an armed robbery).

With a tale that almost sounds like it is right out of the movies, All the Money in the World, Ridley Scott’s 2017 buzzing biopic on the Getty abduction of 1973, was hit hard when star Kevin Spacey got wrapped up in the ever-growing series of sexual assault allegations. . . about one month before the film’s release. In comes Scott’s original choice, acting icon Christopher Plummer, who, with the help of a few returning actors, re-shot the entire role in only four short days – thrusting him into the Best Supporting Actor race at this year’s Golden Globes. . . and likely the Academy Awards. Despite all of the headlines that have pushed people’s attention away from the motion picture itself, it is an engaging piece of cinema. The plot revolves around 16 year old J.P. “Paul” Getty III (Charlie Plummer), the grandson of eccentric billionaire oil baron J. Paul Getty (Christopher Plummer), who is abducted late one night off of the streets of Rome.

Uniting a superlative film noir cast, 1946's The Strange Love of Martha Ivers, directed by Lewis Milestone (a two time Academy Award winner, one of which he earned for All Quiet on the Western Front), begins with a triumvirate of childhood friends witnessing a crime which forges a unique bond between them, it informing their respective directions into adulthood. Building off of her performance in Double Indemnity two years earlier, Barbara Stanwyck, playing the title character, once again proves why she is one of the all-time great femme fatales. . . a calm, controlled, ruthless Machiavellian puppet master, she not only pulls the strings of her weak and feeble alcoholic husband Walter O’Neil (Kirk Douglas in his first film role – and against type from what we would later know) – who truly loves her, but she also has a manipulative control over the entire city in which she lives – owner of the plant that gives its people their jobs, the police that protect it (thanks to her husband, who is the district attorney), and everything else in between.

Arriving at theatres a few months before the iconic 1960 Lewis Milestone film Ocean’s Eleven, Henry Hathaway’s Seven Thieves is its lesser known forerunner, yet despite being in its long casting shadow, it is a whole lot of fun. Set in Monte Carlo, disgraced professor and scientist Theo Wilkins (Edward G. Robinson) is the mastermind of a daring plot to rob a posh, extravagant casino in the picturesque Principality of Monaco. Uniting a talented group of shady individuals, the aging ringleader has called on longtime American acquaintance Paul Mason (Rod Steiger), a smart man who has worked with Wilkins before, hoping that he will be his right-hand man as well as the iron fist that will keep everyone in line.