A film noir with some eccentricities, The Big Steal (1949), directed by then third time film maker Don Siegel (who would go on to make such greats as Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Dirty Harry, and Escape from Alcatraz), plays like a long chase within a longer chase, while the meeting between gent and femme is something akin to a will they/won’t they screwball comedy. The usually laconic Lt. Duke Halliday (Robert Mitchum) is in quite the conundrum, as he has been robbed of a U.S. Army payroll totaling a whopping three hundred grand by swindler Jim Fiske (Patric Knowles). On the lam in Mexico (a rather rare noir location, also think Ride the Pink Horse and Touch of Evil), Halliday is on his trail... but the problem is, so is his superior – Captain Vincent Blake (William Bendix), who, of course, thinks it was actually the Lieutenant who ran off with the money.
Quirkily droll with a dark tinged twist, Devon Avery’s short film One-Minute Time Machine (2014), is an honest, sci-fi infused romantic comedy revolving around the difficulties of making that first emotional connection. . . setting in motion that much desired first date. Written by Sean Crouch (a scribe on television series like Numb3rs and The 100), he sets this unusual scene in the most simple and romantic of places. . . a bench backed by a sunlit, lush green park. Sitting there (minding her own business) is Regina (Erinn Hayes), a woman who immediately catches the eye of someone walking by, James (Brian Dietzen).
A pre-Code movie that by today’s standards might not seem all that controversial, but would not have made it to theatres just one year later (when the Production Code started to be enforced), 1933's Torch Singer, directed by Alexander Hall and George Somnes, provides an intriguing snapshot of the time. Centred on a strong female performance (something less rare than you might expect for the 1930s) by Claudette Colbert, she plays Sally Trent, a young woman who quickly slept with her first love. . . only to find out she’s pregnant. Pause!
Sometimes things look good on paper, then translate well to film, and still don’t work at the box office. I am still not quite sure how 2003's The Rundown failed to win over a massive audience (80.9 million made on an 85 million dollar budget). Developing an action frenemy comedy script that deftly mixes the two genres (by Xena: Warrior Princess writer R.J. Stewart), what followed was inspired casting. . . pairing the biggest wrestler of the time (and one of the most charismatic human beings on the planet – The Rock (a.k.a. Dwayne Johnson – who had only dabbled in Hollywood with The Mummy Returns/The Scorpion King), with Seann William Scott, who was just coming off of the success of the American Pie trilogy (as well as some other memorable roles at the time – Road Trip and Old School come to mind), the pair have instant chemistry. It should be no surprise that Vince McMahon is a producer on the project.
Talk about a buildup. . . starting with the First World War, then came the Second World War, it all leading to. . . The War of the Worlds!!! A gargantuan and ballsy way to introduce your film, these black and white reels from the first half of the twentieth century give way to garish colours of the Atomic Age in Byron Haskin’s modernized 1953 take on the iconic H.G. Wells novel. Controlled by ambitious producer George Pal (who both produced and directed The Time Machine), he obtained the material after it sat on legendary director Cecil B. DeMille’s desk for some three decades (it was always a dream project for him). Bringing in a talented team of creative individuals, it was longtime special effects man turned director Byron Haskin who was his choice.
A rare giallo that is co-produced and directed by Americans, 1974's The Girl in Room 2A fuses the prototypical Italian suspense/thriller with the claustrophobia and psychedelic visions found in Rosemary’s Baby, the gothic horror of Edgar Allan Poe (specifically, the macabre 1964 Roger Corman rendition of The Masque of the Red Death starring Vincent Price), American exploitation. . . as well as a few other touches (you might see some Psycho and early slasher film samplings pop in here). Co-produced by eccentric exploitation maestro Dick Randall (if you think of the infamous Weng Weng Filipino James Bond spoof For Y’Ur Height Only, this should give you an idea of the types of movies this guy made) and directed by William Rose (a man with only seven directorial credits to his name – though gems like 50,000 BC (Before Clothing) might sound Oscar worthy to some), this American pair take a unique path for their story.
A kitschy, quirky cult classic, Fright Night (1985), written and directed by Tom Holland (no, not Spiderman – he wasn’t even born yet), fuses vampiric horror elements with satirical comedy, bringing with it comparisons to a film four years its senior, An American Werewolf in London. Charley Brewster (William Ragsdale), is your prototypical teenager. . . a girl loving, movie obsessed high schooler growing up in boring suburbia. With a single mother, Judy Brewster (Dorothy Fielding), who is always working odd hours – she’s a nurse, most of his time is spent with his on again/off again girlfriend, Amy Peterson (Amanda Bearse). During one of their make-out sessions, Charley’s favourite show, Fright Night (hosted by actor Peter Vincent – named after Peter Cushing and Vincent Price, played by Roddy McDowall), is running in the background when he spots some unwonted activity next door.