Sci-Fi Dystopia Theater: Chosen Survivors (1974)

I remember this ad for CHOSEN SURVIVORS in the crinkly pages of “The Monster Times” — my favorite newspaper of the 1970′s — and thinking that it looked cool and scary. I imagined how the film might unfurl onscreen, an underground world of steel and computers with hapless denizens screaming and running as deadly vampire bats attack them. Awesome. The film never came around to any of the base theaters where I spent some of my formative moviegoing and I never recall it playing on television at all; I was a dedicated troll of “TV Guide,” the kind who would instantly flip through the pages to see what sci-fi and monster flix would be on “Creature Features” the following weekend. So I’m not fucking around when I say I never came across CHOSEN SURVIVORS in my late-nite tube travails…seasons change…decades roll past…the 21st century arrives…

Cut to the pre-dystopic world of 2008 and another wonderful Fox “Midnite Movies” DVD release of CHOSEN SURVIVORS in a terrific 1.85:1 anamorphic transfer. The intriguing premise is that a computer-picked selection of America’s best and brightest scientists, industrialists and even a writer, are dropped 1758 feet underground into a sterile, automated complex with individual quarters and living areas — as the Earth above has been reduced to a burning nuclear war cinder. The Government has supplied enough necessities for the five years before the elevator takes them back up to safely replenish the Garden. Oh yeah, and there’s also a cave of deadly vampire bats that have found their last living source of food…To say more would deprive the viewer of the nifty pleasures of CHOSEN SURVIVORS, filmed on a low-budget in Mexico and distributed by Columbia Pictures. The unusual mash-up of genres, apocalyptic sci-fi gothic horror, fits well within the 70′s dystopic ouvre such as THE OMEGA MAN and WESTWORLD.

The script by Harry Cross plays loose with logic and character, and we’re given little background outside of exposition by the group psychologist (an effective Bradford Dillman). Still, the archetypal personalities make for some interesting debate, which comprise sections of the film between deadly vampire bat attacks. The most memorable character next to the shaky Dillman is the angry, pragmatic corporate executive played to sleazy perfection by Jackie Cooper. Loud and bullying, you wish somebody would pop him in the mouth (especially after the former Little Rascal assaults one of the ladies). But I like Richard Jaeckel (THE GREEN SLIME) as the Captain of the complex and Alex Cord as The Writer (with feathered hair and a mustache that could have its own area code). There’s also an African-American Olympic athlete (Lincoln Kilpatrick) to add some diversity and an underused Pedro Armendariz Jr.

Of course, the real stars here are the deadly vampire bats. These creepy critters have expressive faces with sharp, pointy teeth. The attacks are fairly well-staged given the budget, sometimes using unique process animation and actual bats fluttering around the actors. Despite the “PG” rating, there is some grue and gore, but the film might as well have gone for bloody broke given the tone and subject matter. Directed by TV veteran Sutton Roley, whose episodic resume looks like a pop cultural buffet of shows like RAWHIDE; HAVE GUN WILL TRAVEL; LOST IN SPACE; HAWAII 5-0; BONANZA; THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E; KOJACK; AIRWOLF; etc. You might already know his work based on the amount of airtime of his myriad hit shows. How he came to helm CHOSEN SURVIVORS would be an interesting story as Roley did no more features after this. His style is obvious and familiar, like a 70′s sci-fi series with low perspectives and wide-angle shots. The cinematography by Gabriel Torres (SWEET SUGAR (1972)) and second-unit on PAT GARRETT & BILLY THE KID) favors gauzy lens and symmetrical framing, which effectively keeps the characters trapped within their steely glass prison. I particularly like the stark blue light used for the attack sequences. Fred Karlin’s electronic score is also an eerie highlight, right on the heels of his soundtrack for WESTWORLD.

Overall, CHOSEN SURVIVORS is essential viewing for fans of the genre. The DVD release also restores 30 minutes (!) of footage that was sheared in the domestic USA 99 minute cut, but most of the material are quiet takes and loud debates betwixt the bickering survivors. I’m a sucker for long ethical debates between opposing archetypes so I was not bored. There are other worthy moments, especially the film’s best scene, the suspenseful climax involving one final escape attempt out of the underground complex. It’s nice to finally viddy this minor gem from the cynical, future shocked 1970′s. And deadly vampire bat attacks are always welcome.

Summer Of The Shark

Now That’s A Movie Poster

National Lampoon’s Lemmings (1973)

I’d seen and heard about this famous 1973 Greenwich Village revue hit in the pages of  NATIONAL LAMPOON when I read it like cultural contraband in class and the playground (some kids got busted for SWANK or HUSTLER — I got busted for HEAVY METAL and NATIONAL LAMPOON). All I knew from the ads for the album version was that it was a parody of Woodstock — “Woodchuck: Three Days of Peace, Music & Death.” Starring John Belushi, Chevy Chase, Christopher Guest, Alice Playten among others, written by Tony Hendra, Doug Kenny and P.J. O’Rourke, the show brilliantly fused forevermore the brilliant improv and caricature skills of Second City to the wicked black satire of the Lampoon that would ultimately lead to “Saturday Night Live.” Although the album exists as a sample of these youngsters at the early top of their game, the show was allegedly videotaped for Home Box Office (yes Virginia, HBO has been around for that long) but I’ve found no evidence of this  — although this version consists only of the “Woodchuck” section of the revue. Finally brought forth after decades of dormancy, LEMMINGS: DEAD IN CONCERT 1973 (aka THE NATIONAL LAMPOON TELEVISION SHOW as the wobbly chyron informs us) is a fascinating, hilarious and sometime brilliant takedown of the Woodstock Generation, skewered in that amoral, savage Lampoon style, a potent mixture of elitism and satire. The show’s theme is that the concert is a tribute to 60′s death and nothingness, presided over by a series of skits and bands patterned after familiar pop icons that encourage the audience to kill themselves. John Belushi is the emcee, a scruffy dynamic presence already busting at the seams with smartass energy — I love his warning that “The brown strychnine has been cut with acid.”

Of course, the musical acts are the highlight of the revue, expertly crafted parodies with their own catchy charm, not surprising given that Christopher Guest wrote most of the tunes. “Floyd, Pavlov, Adler and Young” is a deadly take on CSN&Y, featuring Chase on drums, Belushi on bass and Guest on lead guitar. It’s cool to see him and Belushi onstage together. Guest is also absolutely transcendent as a reluctant Bob Dylan (until handed cash) performing “Positively Wall Street” in the best imitation I’ve ever seen, going back and forth from his raspy folk voice to his “Nashville Skyline” twang. Alice Playten (aka “Blix” from Ridley Scott’s LEGEND) won an Obie Award for her work, killing as a proto-Joni Mitchell. Rhonda Coullet folk-rawks as Joan Baez, singing the show’s most outrageous song, the ultimate anthem to guilty liberal rage. Not surprisingly, Belushi busts out his dynamic Joe Cocker to top it all off. By the end, the final band aptly titled “Megadeath” unleashes a sonic blast of cynicism, an eerie harbinger of the 1970′s punk rock EST cocaine apathy to come. The video here is fairly raw and the audience seems pre-selected for the final act of mass suicide, but this is a wonderful cultural artifact, a chance to enjoy a group of bright talents who would soon alter the American comedy landscape. Amazingly, although the show’s original cast recording has been available for years, there’s been no official release for this rare, unique video snapshot of a cynical new generation of satirists bred by National Lampoon.

GOBP

“The president just called for creating a fund that would be administered by outsiders, which would be more of a redistribution-of-wealth fund.  And now it appears like we’ll be looking at one more gateway for more government control, more money to government.  If there is a disaster, why is it that government is the one who always seems to benefit after a disaster, and that’s of course what cap-and-trade would be.” – Michele Bachmann

Saturday Afternoon Matinee ’77

Happy Birthday

Favorite Scene Theatre: The 7th Voyage Of Sinbad (1958)

This afternoon I stood face to eye socket with the steel armature that once housed the latex body of the Cyclops from Ray Harryhausen’s fantasy masterpiece, THE 7TH VOYAGE OF SINBAD. Behind me, the Pegasus and the Kraken from CLASH OF THE TITANS (1981) watched warily from inside their protective case. As did Gwangi in the corner and at least four heavily armed skeletons from JASON AND THE ARGONAUTS (1963). I don’t blame these timeless creatures for being on guard. How could you not want to reach out and touch the matted fur and painted latex of the animated legends that you grew up with? The Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences is hosting an exhibit dedicated to “The Fantastical Worlds of Ray Harryhausen” featuring a Talos treasure of original artwork, storyboards and of course, a selection of the actual models used in his classic genre films.

If there was any filmmaker that inspired me to enter the Hollywood dream factory, it was Mr. Harryhausen. I was a stop-motion fan from my first cine-memories, from the wonders of the Rankin Bass holiday specials to my weeping for the SON OF KONG (1933). I adored the personalized surreality of this greatest of special effects, and like so many others, used up 50-foot rolls of Kodak for my own single-frame jerkily animated epics (including the incongruous adventures of BOBA & LION: a Boba Fett figure and a Fischer Price lion fighting interstellar bad guys — hey, it could happen). I pined over the images in “Famous Monsters of Filmland,” “Cinefantastique” and the superior amateur spfx in Don Dohler’s “Cinemagic” when it was a glossy fan magazine, replete with articles by budding pioneers like Craig Reardon and Dennis Skotak. Of course, the late night TV creature features of the 70′s were a smorgasbord of Harryhausen, Willis O’Brien and their progeny like Jim Danforth, master animator from gems such as EQUINOX (1970) and WHEN DINOSAURS RULED THE EARTH (1970). These were my first movie heroes.

Fortunately, I saw THE 7TH VOYAGE OF SINBAD in the theater on a double bill with DARK STAR (1975) after THE GOLDEN VOYAGE OF SINBAD (1974) proved to be a surprise box-office hit — Columbia then re-released the first and best cinematic adventure of the Arabian sea warrior. In the flickering dark, I was immediately entranced by Bernard Hermann’s awesome, magical theme over the charming child-like illustrations of Sinbad’s voyages. One can’t stress how important Hermann’s score is to this film — I think it ranks as one of the best soundtracks of all time. Hermann is not the only one at the top of his game. Director Nathan Juran, a studio journeyman if there ever was one, keeps the pacing brisk and the actors lively; the cinematography by Wilkie Cooper is lush and colorful; and the screenplay by Kenneth Kolb (who later wrote the novel GETTING STRAIGHT) has the right mixture of wit and imagination — I like how the characters all have personalities, even the minor Golar has the hilarious retorts of “That’s right!” The acting is perfect 50′s purple pulp and I think plays just right to this day. Even though he’s as Arabic as my uncle Tommy, the only screen Sinbad for me is Kerwin Matthews. He has the right balance of stoic passion and valorous justice. If you didn’t believe him as Sinbad, the film wouldn’t work. Nor would it without Torin Thatcher’s evil sorcerer, Sakura, easily one of the screen’s most underrated supervillains. The way he murmurs, “Kill him…Kill Sinbad…” is still chilling. As the damsel in distress but not without her own strength, Kathryn Grant is uber-lovely and charming as Princess Parisa, plus she looks smokin’ in Technicolor. The young genie Barani (Richard Eyer) instilled some jokes at his expense due to his catch-phrase, “I shall try, I shall try.” But the line works perfect at the end, instilling a boy’s adventure tale mythos that’s encapsulated by Hermann’s glorious final theme.

But sitting in the theater on that Friday night, I was duly blown away by the sheer animated ferocity of the Cyclops when he makes his grand first appearance. Not only does he have a beautifully detailed design, but his roar is suitably unique and fiercesome (Harryhausen films have always had terrific sound effects as well). I loved the way the Cyclops punches at the murky barrier separating him from Sinbad. The creature has so much greedy life and personality, especially when it clutches the magic lamp to its stippled chest. Within minutes of this film, I was captivated and by the climatic battle between the dynamic Dragon and the second Cyclops, a true believer. The next time I would experience such a psychic cinematic baptism would be a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…It’s clear Lucas was a fan as the chasm that Sinbad and Parisa swings over is the forefather of Luke and Leia’s famous leap. Perhaps that’s why I think THE 7TH VOYAGE OF SINBAD is the greatest American fantasy film next to STAR WARS; its legacy is that it acted as a clarion call to so many genre filmmakers to this day (Mark Hamill even interviewed Kerwin Matthews in the pages of the ultimate Harryhausen fan magazine from 1974, FXRH). And to stare inches from the intricate, rust-colored skeleton of my favorite Ray Harryhausen creation — and keep myself from manipulating movie history — feels like coming full circle to a stop-motion dream that’s animated my life.

GOP Idiocracy

This has to be the most staggeringly dumb political party of the past 30 years:

“BP was regulated and it was the regulators fault that this disaster happened. People understand that regulation is the problem and they want corporations in charge.” – George Will

Friday Song: The Beatles

It was 42 years ago this week. “…a decisive moment in the history of Western civilization.” – Kenneth Tynan, 1967. And I still think this song is their crowning pop achievement.

William A. Fraker RIP

Prince Sirki has been busy taking giants from the Earth. William A. Fraker ASC was always one of my favorite American cinematographers. His list of credits spans from cult classic THE PRESIDENT’S ANALYST (1967) to 1968′s BULLITT (1968) and ROSEMARY’S BABY to PAINT YOUR WAGON (1969) to rarities like DUSTY AND SWEETS MCGEE (1970) and DAY OF THE DOLPHIN (1973) and even Ralph Bakshi’s best film, COONSKIN (1973). He also shot footage for  ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO’S NEST (1975) and GATOR (1976) — which actually has striking photography — then was one of three on CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND (1978). Not enough? How about extra work on THE DEER HUNTER (1977) and 1941 (1979). Not to mention HOLLYWOOD KNIGHTS (1980) along with SHARKEY’S MACHINE (1980. Throw in WARGAMES (1983) and MEMOIRS OF AN INVISIBLE MAN (1991) for good measure. His style was crisp and clean, long and lean. He also directed a few movies, the most memorable being his debut MONTE WALSH (1970). As I wrote in a previous “Forgotten Films” entry:

This little-seen western directed by the brilliant cinematographer William A. Fraker is one of the handful of elegiac cine-odes to the dying days of the cowboy. A typically 70′s character study punctuated by violence, MONTE WALSH tells the story of a pair of ranch pardners, Lee and Palance, as they find themselves at the end of the century and the beginning of a new one. “I wish I knew more than cowboyin’” one character says after finding himself out of a ranch job. That line fairly sums up the film’s theme. Buttressed by one of John Barry’s most beautiful scores, with an ironic theme song called “The Good Times Are Comin’” by, yes, Mama Cass, the film isn’t the typical 1970 tonal downer as reflective of the era. There’s sadness and longing, but there’s a little hope and humor by the finale. Lee Marvin is fantastic, one of his best movie characters, and Jack Palance has never been more appealing in a nice guy role. And I defy you not to shed a tear when Marvin takes a long stroll through a dying western town soundtracked by Barry’s bittersweet music.

Of course, this is how I’d like to recall William A. Fraker — at his most free-wheelin’ in this breezy very 60′s moment from my beloved THE PRESIDENT’S ANALYST (1967):