Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

“Rest of Europe” polling is hereby launched!
Six countries not previously considered will constitute the “Rest of Europe” poll in a month-long project that will run until August 5th. The six are: Ireland, Greece, Belgium, the Netherlands, Switzerland and Austria.
Each voter gets fifteen (15) choices, to be entered chronologically, alphabetically, in ranked order or in arbitrary equal designation. As always the poll’s chief arbitrator and tabulator will be Bill Kamberger. My own ballot once again will be listed alphabetically:
Alpine Fire (Switzerland) 1985; Fredi M. Murer
The Assault (Netherlands) 1986; Fons Rademakers
The Butcher Boy (Ireland) 1997; Neil Jordan
Character (Netherlands/Belgium) 1997; Mike van Diem
Iphigenia (Greece) 1977; Michael Cacoyannis
The Dead (Ireland) 1987: John Huston
The Last Chance (Switzerland) 1945; Leopold Lindtberg
My Left Foot (Ireland) 1989; Jim Sheridan
Once (Ireland) 2007; John Carney
La Promesse (Belgium) 1996; Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne
Rosetta (Belgium) 1999; Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne
Toto the Hero (Belgium) 1991; Jaco van Dormael
Travelling Players (Greece) 1975; Theo Angelopoulos
Winter in Wartime (Netherlands) 2008; Martin Koolhoven
Wolfwalkers (Ireland) 2020; Tom Moore/Ross Stewart


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by Sam Juliano

July 4th was once a time of incalculable joy in Fairview!
Baby boomers regularly immersed in the priceless memories that defined their coming of age in the Borough of Fairview will doubtless count July 4th as a premium recall that as much as any time of the year exemplified the town’s community spirit. The fireworks that were staged on the Little League Field either on the evening of July 3rd or during the nocturnal invasion of July 4th proper by fire department personnel brought together athletes, Scouts, grammar and high school students, service organization officers and members, church activists, and even those who for most of the year were cloistered and reluctant to engage in social activities. The July 4th fireworks for many was the crowning event after daytime activities on the field that including pillow and relay races, games and complimentary refreshments such as hot dogs, pretzels and soft drinks.. Winners received trophies and framed acknowledgements from Borough officials or service organization leaders. While fireworks are still engineered in the area, the time is long gone when residents can look forward to July 4th as a day of frantic activity from 10 A.M. till 10 P.M. Like those of us who counted the days till the Yuletide airing of “The Wizard of Oz” on CBS, many Fairview youngsters focused their expectations on our nation’s birthday, from the moment they received their report cards, pondering the competition among their friends, and the cherry on top of the sundae, the raucous, booming pyrotechnic display that lit up Fairview’s sky and dared anyone living on 6th, 7th or 8th streets to turn in early.
The grass spaces around the field of course, were overflowing with locals, a bevy of people armed with lawn chairs, some waving sparklers and a few with a mischievous bent discussing their plans to set off “cherry bombs” on the way home from the event. Everybody knew everybody else in those days, and even the ocean of humanity that permeated every nook and cranny of the tract of land brought into Borough domain by legendary Republican Mayor Louis Battaglia in the 1950’s, didn’t diminish the ability of the locals to say hello or greet almost everyone who crossed their paths, on the way to the refreshment stand, up and down the access hill aside Our Lady of Grace, in and around Pop’s Park, the little kids’ playground overlooking the main theater or the descending path from the basketball courts. Of course the immediate locals -those who hailed from 6th, 7th, Kamena and Walker Streets- faithfully attended, and prevalent families like the Montefortes, Blasos, Foglios, Andreazzas, Rutches, Mesiscas, Ballerinis, Picinics, Booths, Mirandas, Lauras, Andrettas, Sartors, Weises were on hand, seemingly ubiquitous no matter where you walked in this gloriously congested hamlet. But the aforementioned names represent only a microcosm of the population who descended on the grounds, and through year-long face-to-face involvement at a time when social media was non-existent Fairview, by way of community and civil organizations, sports and shopping locally was truly one big family.
At the height of the boomer era -and no small coincidence- the wildly popular film version of the Broadway musical “1776”- released in late 1972, debuting at Radio City Music Hall, and for Fairviewites attuned to “philately” the mid-70s was a time to lay down some coin at the box-sized post office next to the Greek Church on Anderson Avenue for all the celebratory issues commemorating our bicentennial.
Yes, the 4th of July is what you make it, and even today those with an adventurous spirit can re-live some scene–specific joys, but the camaraderie we experienced in the 60s and 70s was a singular phenomenon. Ah, the memories, and so many tears.


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by Sam Juliano

I have now surpassed 75,000 words in the writing of Irish Jesus in Fairview, and have quickened my pace as new ideas have been coming to me, daily.  But a few crucial chapters still need to be written in their entirety.

The Africa and Middle Eastern polling concludes this coming Friday after one extension.

“Elvis” at Ridgefield Park multiplex

He was the quintessential icon of our generation, and he continues to transcend generations with his trend-setting, larger-than-life impact on music and culture. He was called the “King” for good reason! I saw the film last night and have mixed feelings. The lead performance -by Austin Butler- was spectacular and the musical numbers were juke-box-electrifying, but typical Luhrmann montage-like segments and weak narrative cohesion that didn’t serve a film of that exceeding length. I expected a deeper exploration of the King’s life, even if it was a pointed examination of his relationship with his terrible agent. Tom Hanks was fine, though his accent was dodgy. Still worth seeing, and always great to pay tribute to our generation’s central icon, one I adore as much as everyone else. For me: 3.5 of 5.0. (I agree with others on Butler. He deserves an Oscar nod). I am positive the film will do huge box office, though at MC the grade now is a wholly unimpressive 63%, for whatever that’s worth. Bottom line: See it. If not anything else, it was entertaining and Butler was sensational.
“The Black Phone” at Secaucus multiplex
I did not attend this supernatural thriller starring Ethan Hawke as a maniacal child killer expecting much more than a few jolts and menacing set pieces, and wasn’t especially impressed with the solid reviews the film garnered from critics and audiences. Alas, I must say the advance notices for the most part were spot on, and this genre hybrid (“Room,” “The Silence of the Lambs,” etc.) was against all odds for me, a taut, terrifying and gripping watch, that features a bevy of effective performances, especially by the aforementioned Hawke, and young newcomer Mason Thames. Claustrophobic terror is wed to a series of calculated but surprisingly effective shocks and the phone portal is successfully woven in to the story’s realist underpinnings. Directed by Scott Derrickson, the film was based on a short story by Stephen King’s son, Joe. The last thing I expected was to recommend it, but that is exactly what I am doing here. 4.0 of 5.0 seen last night with Lucille, Sammy IV and Jeremy. The positive consensus was unanimous).


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by Sam Juliano

The final day for students in Thursday, while teachers end their school year on Friday.  Yours Truly will be working the summer program for the 27th consecutive year from June 29th to July 29th.  And yes, it is a fact that I will NOT be retiring, despite my 67 years-of-age and will return to my present assignment in September.  Meanwhile, I have surpassed 71,000 words now as I quicken my pace to get Irish Jesus in Fairview completed.  I am certain I can get this all done by the final day in July.  Hence we are looking at what appears to be an October publishing date when the two stages of the editing process and the cover art are enacted.

This past week our resident film scholar Jim Clark published another superlative essay in his continuing and marvelously comprehensive Ingmar Bergman series, this time on the Swedish icon’s debut directorial effort, the 1946 Crisis.

Though the 2022 installment of the Tribeca Film Festival ended yesterday, press pass holders can watch the full slate up through Sunday, June 26th.  I have a few reports of films seen as follows.

Disturbing doc “Leave No Trace” and wistful Italian drama “Blessed Boys” at Tribeca Film Festival!
Lucille and I watched two more films Tuesday night via Tribeca streaming. The first, “Leave No Trace” was a jarring documentary about Boy Scouts sex abuse, and how the century-old organization tried to sweep serious allegations that in some cases destroyed the emotional lives of the victims, under the carpet. The filmmakers boldly opted not to conceal the identities, but this brought the film a level of searing authenticity in scene-specific terms. 4 of 5. The Italian drama “Blessed Boys” examines how faith and familial responsibility yields to personal yearnings, which mature in the relationship between two young men living in Naples. The award-winning film is sometimes wistful and funny, and is said to have autobiographical underpinnings. 4 of 5.
“My Love Affair with Marriage” and “January”: Two Latvian features at Tribeca!
Lucille and I watched two more films via Tribeca Film Festival streaming a few nights ago. Both the semi-autobiographical animated work “My Love Affair with Marriage (by Signe Baumane) and the meditative “January” are fine works, which immediately take their place among the best films of the festival thus far. Seeing two Latvian films in one sitting alone is a rarity, but that both are exceptional is even more unusual. The complexity of the two-hour animated therapeutical film explores gender stereotypes, societal norms and toxicity and life’s insistence on conformity. (one character tells another, “nobody cares how you feel, they care how you look.”) In January, an aspiring filmmaker, obsessed with Bergman and Jarmusch, has to deal with Soviet interference in 1991, but the power of art and love transcend the political turbulence. Ratings: My Love Affair with Marriage 4.5 of 5.0; January, 3.5 of 5.0  (Thank you Marilyn Ferdinand and Marvin Sommer for the excellent recommendations!

Those of us with the Tribeca Festival virtual pass are allowed to use it up until this coming Sunday (June 26), which is a full week beyond yesterday’s final day of the festival proper. Under those liberal circumstances, Lucille and I allowed ourselves to be coerced by young Sammy and Jeremy to attend the Buzz Lightyear prequel at the Ridgefield Park Theater for a 9:15 P.M. show last night. The results? The film was “tolerable.” Rating 3.0 of 5.0. (As to Tribeca I plan to pay heed to my California friend Marvin Sommer, who sent on a batch of suggestions for us to explore over the coming week. Thank you Marvin!)  (more…)

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© 2022 James Clark

Filmmaker/dramatist, Ingmar Bergman began to show what he could do during the era of the Nazis. In all his presentations you would think that such a matter would be on his mind and his heart. As a tyro, he was not only working within neutral Sweden, but also happy to develop his skills within the Axis. His powers of reflection cannot be dismissed. He was, indeed, a brilliant exponent of that matter of palsy and rampant overrated, within the actions of religion and science. Many philosophically thinkers, over the past two hundred years, have tangled with this arduousness. They have been handicapped by murderous religion and murderous science.

This early (reckless) involvement by Bergman could not sustain very long. Our film today provides a dramatic form of his education. There is, at the outset, a vicious attack. In the tranquil, neat-as-a-pin village, a lady, namely, Mutti, had seen fit to take in a baby whose mother refused to touch. The violence, however, did not end with that. Mutti’s love and joy for the child, namely, Nelly, was to be arrested by the now eighteen-year-old girl rounded-up to become a decorative prostitute, in Stockholm. The girl had been given the idea that she would be a clerk in a chic clothing boutique. But in no-time Nelly adjusted.

Its follow-up is far more sophisticated. Most of the heavy lifting becomes the holder of one, Jack, a vague relative of the owner, and a seldom active actor. That he was a somewhat ambiguous sage, there   was, on the train back to Stockholm, his pandemonium of glee in noticing on the seats there was stylized crosses of the Nazi type. (Of course, the business-lady had joined in.) Nelly’s confusion here would by only customary.

Nevertheless, Jack had ventured into dangerous and astounding territory. He and the so-called mother (who had sent ahead a flashy gown for the recruit) attend the yearly dance phenomenon of the village, focused upon the music of the waltz. Jack, already drunk, asks Jenny, “Would you mind if I asked your daughter to dance?”/ “Not at all. You can dance as you like…” During that first dance with Jack (which created anger in her partner), Jack blurts out, “You’re very beautiful, the Belle of the Ball.”/ “That’s very kind of you.”/ “Feminine beauty makes me sad… I think we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other… You look so sad.”/ “Me? I’m not sad at all.”/ “Not sad in in the usual way. It’s a sadness deep in your eyes. Perhaps your heart is sad…”/ “You sound like a novel.”/ “I was going to enter the church…. To live in peace, far from the noise and the worry…” (Nelly argues, “It can be a bit too peaceful.”) He requests two drinks. He then adds something. “I call it, ‘Jack the Ripper’s Evensong.’ It’ll go down easily. I’m sure you’ll like it.” (Easy revolutionaries! The world is cluttered with them. Bergman’s career being dedicated to better than that.) (more…)

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by Sam Juliano

Many thanks to all the sensational writers and Wonders in the Dark readers for the impassioned involvement in the just-completed Sixth Annual Allan Fish Film Festival.  I dare say this year was the best ever by way of diversity, creativity and quality writing.  God willing, I’m looking forward to next year’s festival!

I have now written 68,000 words of Irish Jesus in Fairview, and as of late have mustered up resolve that has been diverted to other matters over the past two months.  I am aiming to reach roughly 85,000 words as the final number, so heck I am almost there!  Two Jim Clark essays is what I am looking at length-wise!!!  And speaking of my talented Canadian friend, his tenacious wife Valerie, seems to be a constant inspiration, even when I am not sharing e mails with her.  Not only is she a muse, but she has me conjuring up deadlines in my subconscious mind, base don her own gentle prodding.  I need such a person as I move forward and would like again to thank her for her positive energy throughout!  Soon I will again be meeting up with the artist Andrew Castrucci and will be contacting first-stage editor Rob Bignell.

Lucille and I have watched five (5) films so far from this year’s Tribeca Film Festival. After nine years of attending the festival in person (Manhattan) we have gone virtual the last two years. Here are the titles and ratings (1 to 5):
Rounding ** 1/2
An Act of Worship (documentary) **** 1/2
Liquor Store Dreams (documentary) ****
Next Exit *** 1/2

Lynch/Oz at Tribeca!

Lucille and I watched the fascinating documentary “Lynch/Oz” via Tribeca Film Festival streaming last night! Though it is only the fifth Tribeca film we have seen to this point in this 2022 Fest (it is very early to be sure!) in our annual investigation made possible by the WONDERS IN THE DARK press passes, it is probably my favorite of those so far. The film examines Lynch’s obsession with “The Wizard of Oz” and how it metaphorically defines so much of his own works. Props like curtains, bubbles, clothes, shoes, and the assertion that Wicked Witch of the West is far more captivating that the boring Good Witch Glinda bring all sorts of revelations, many outlined by John Waters. We both adore “The Wizard of Oz” but who would have thought to think David Lynch valued it to the level documented in this irresistible documentary. 4.5 of 5.0


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by Sam Juliano

Dearest Allan:

Greetings!  I know we haven’t spoken in a few weeks, but I did promise I will give you a full report on the on-line film festival in your honor.  It is beyond my comprehension to grasp that you departed this earthly realm almost six years ago, and that this project is entering that many years as well.  In the past you have always marveled at how committed each writer was in exploring eclectic works or others that were not easily available.  Much like what you are doing now – and I continue to be amazed that your classes up there are attracting huge numbers, particularly the one titled Kurosawa, Ozu and Mizoguchi – your chosen vocation during your tenure on this planet was to educate, to introduce, even in some cases, but in the best sense, to indoctrinate.  I remember how annoyed the Kendal post office countermen would get when you regaled them almost daily with those international parcels.   You always seemed to make sure that when you received your rarities from London film specialists, that other would reap the benefits of your singular efforts.  I can only imagine how far you have taken this propensity at Paradise Gardens University.  I know if you had it your way, you’d coax every student to choose film as their major.

Anyway, I wanted to let you know that Sachin Gandhi, that wonderful chap from Calgary, Canada, has again taken the lead in attending to every last submission to this festival.  Yes, I know what you are thinking.  He always does indeed.  I had the great honor of meeting him in New York City on two occasions, and he’s every bit as personable, as warm, and as brimming with positive energy as he demonstrates in all his online commentaries.  He has never forgotten your style of cinematic sponsorship,, nor your tenacious belief that there are always masterpieces to be discovered, shared and written about.  Sachin’s entry to this year’s festival was most unique and the kind of thing you would have glowingly broached on one of your Fish Obscuros.  I would send you the link, but as you know, there can be no crossover of media, only words are allowed.  Not sure why they so stringent about that up there, but I think it something to do with a rejection of anything tangible.  If you just focus on the title and flick your fingers I know you will be able to watch it straightaway.  I will send you Sachin’s comments under all the other submissions too.  Each is in own way is extraordinary and each takes a completely different approach.  That Australian essayist extraordinaire Roderick Heath, ya know the one you told me many times was as good a writer of thorough pieces as you had ever seen, really took off the gauze on the American chase film Bullitt.  You haven’t read anything about that thriller until you read his comprehensive examination.

Then there’s Robert Hornak, a longtime fan of your writing.  He took to directly paying tribute to your taste and passion when he took the bull by the horns in analyzing in distinctly cinematic terms, a film by your beloved Yasujiro Ozu.  No it wasn’t Late Spring, Tokyo Story or even your cherished There Was a Father.  No, Bobby creatively opted to examine the use of color in the director’s first non-monochrome work, the 1958 Equinox Flower.  His fascinating observations would not only impress you, but I dare say might alter the way you perceived it, or at least just a bit.  I never forgot how you made me think so differently about the 1948 A Hen in the Wind, which I once thought, uninfluenced by you was an unabashed soap opera.  But how wrong I was.  I absolutely adore the film now.  Anyway, Bobby wins more points from you, I am sure, for his tackling one of your favorite of all film artists.

And speaking of homages and scene-specific reference to you as a purveyor of film studies, how about that tenacious Joel Bocko?  Not only does he keep his own site running full-throttle but he occasionally reaches out to share findings.  This past week, he mentioned you by name as the one who tuned him on to the shattering Iranian masterpiece The House is Black by that country’s celebrated female poet-filmmaker.  You would greatly appreciate his own capsule review, one -dare I say it? – that not only is written in your style, but also with an eye to word economy.  I have always considered your aggressive promotion for that particular short as not only justified, but to this day it stands as one of the finest films associated with you in any sense.

Your beloved Kendal buddy, Marco Tremble, horror and war film maven, motorcyclist and expert cook, gave us a second look at the Korean horror film I Saw the Devil.  As always Marco gets right to it, steering clear of fancy embellishments.  I well remember you counted yourself as a fan.  It was great to see J. D. Lafrance writing again, as he’s been quiet for a while – heck many of us have so much on our plates these days – but much as he always does when he takes pen to paper, he made quite the case for a little-known and little-seen B war 1972 movie titled Welcome Home Soldier Boys.  Typical for J.D. essays, you are slowly pulled in, and before you finish the review you are convinced you had watched it and talked about in in a college film class.  Nihlism and The Wild Bunch figure formidably into his discussion.  Our good friend Bobby J. from the UK (remember that unforgettable meeting we had with him in London in 2014?) Bobby always shared my love of The Twilight Zone, The Outer Limits and Thriller (three shows you liked quite a bit as well) He offered up two links on shorts, one directed by French director Julian Duvivier (a favorite of yours) which is based on Oscar, and the other, a supernatural ditty directed by Wendy Toye.    I think you will appreciate Bobby’s sense of humor as well.

You’ll greatly appreciate our mutual buddy and television specialist extraordinaire, Adam Ferenz’s splendid re-boot of his The Dance of the Seven Veils review.  Your love for Ken Russell once had you sending out copies of this once rare item.  Of course, you have always considered The Devils one of the greatest of films. (more…)

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by Adam Ferenz

Allan turned me on to the existence of this gem, telling me how the Strauss family threatened the BBC, which got cold feet and banned the film, a ban that is still in effect. He sent me a link to a “public” copy. I viewed it, and found genius. This was what Allan always did, lighting the way to unusual and almost always memorable viewings.

The following article was origially posted July 3, 2018, here at WITD. i hope you enjoy it.

Ken Russell did many crazy movies during his career, with The Devils often cited as his most insane work, and that is hard to argue. Unless one has seen this film, which is impossible to find in an un-bowdlerized edition-as the only available copies are not properly color timed and still have time stamps on them-which makes properly assessing this somewhat difficult. Telling the story of Richard Strauss, the film was part of a BBC series of programs, directed by Russell, in which he tackled major figures from classical music. His final film for the BBC, and for television, this film can be seen as a bold “fuck you and goodbye forever” from its director.

In this one, Russell upends the music of Strauss-here made caricature by a director who despised him- and explores themes that today might be considered offensive to sensitive types on the bullying right, particularly their Swastika wearing idols, but such was the bravery and openness with which Russell approached this material. There have been surrealists and absurdists in film. They have sometimes gone together but rarely have the two approaches combined so well as here. Scenes of nuns flogging themselves give way, eventually, to dancing Brownshirts, and Nazi Officers, including Goebbels giving a piggyback ride to a violinist who looks suspiciously like Hitler, during a playful sequence that appears to be set at Hitler’s retreat at Berchtesgaden. This is not a deep portrait in terms of making its character someone you know intimately, unless you consider knowing what Russel thought of him, and how history has judged his, as being deep or intimate.

Instead, what we receive as viewers is an impression of Strauss, as hollow yet potent metaphor, for a failed view of the world and philosophy of control. In this film, Strauss kills his critics with his music, plays his music ever more loudly to drown out his ignorance and culpability in the rise of Nazism, and, most importantly, is credited as co-writer on the film. This is testament to how Russell used the journals, letters and interviews with Strauss in order to indict him. Every word, then, is essentially true, and straight from the source. That the film is presented as a fevered nightmare is part of its charm. (more…)

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by Sam Juliano

Many thanks to all the great writers who have given the Sixth Annual Allan Fish Online Film Festival distinct scholarly heft and astounding diversity.  I say it every year, but I’ll say it again here.  This is the best year yet for this Jamie Uhler-founded project, and as a result God willing the endeavor will continue years into the future.  Thank you so much Canadian film programmer and writer Sachin Gandhi for his inspired attendance throughout, and for his deeply-moving post.  But thanks to everyone, since the site view numbers are far better than they have been for months. The AFOFF will end tomorrow, with a final modest posting by Yours Truly.

Writing continues on Irish Jesus in Fairview, and buoyed by the positive energy and support from my Canadian muse, Valerie Clark, I am approaching 66,000 words, and am nearing the point where I will have to again meet up with my artist, Andrew Castrucci to discuss the book’s cover.  Then the editing.  But all that will need to wait about one more month or so as I attend to some crucial chapters.  My current plans are to send the aforementioned Valerie my manuscript (uncompleted but substantial) in about two weeks.

Voting continues on the African and Middle East polling and by and large it has been inspiring.  Thanks to Marilyn Ferdinand, James Horsefall, Marco Tremble and the FB gang for their fabulous ballots.

 Haunting and shattering “Benediction” the Best Film of the Year as we approach the mid-way point of 2022!

One of the world’s greatest living directors, the Brit Terence Davies, has crafted a film that must surely rank with the very best of his career. As always this purveyor of moods, poetic devises and somber underpinnings places narrative behind brooding sensibilities, meditative angst and oft-soaring lyricism, though in the aptly-titled “Benediction” the story of the poet, Siegfried Sassoon – a WWI objector who is institutionalized for his “unpatriotic” stance, Davies offers up a powerful and profound story of hidden desires. These are eventually set aside for a conventional lifestyle that never brings any measure of happiness to its tortured protagonist, a sensitive man who endures aching sadness, partially through behavior, markedly masochistic. Sassoon is betrayed by most of his male lovers, and though a highly effective past and present structure, emboldened by searing flashbacks, the leaves one deeply and profoundly moved. The cast, led by Jack Lowden is utterly magnificent, and Nicola Daley’s memory-laden cinematography intersperses the monochrome war scenes with the incandescent interior passages to give the film a scrap-book aura that is never sidelined, even by the powerful drama on display. Davies’ religiosity is again integrated when Lowden’s character converts to Catholicism late in life, and that aspect too is powerfully integrated into the narrative. ***** of ***** (highest rating; Lucille shares my great enthusiasm every step of the way. We saw the film Saturday night at Manhattan’s Angelika).


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By Tony D’Ambra – expanded and updated from an article originally posted at filmsnoir.net on 24 July 2011

“There is no idea, no theory, no way of life that cannot be reshaped, illuminated and made more human by being subject to the imagination and criticism of the artist.”
– Abraham Polonsky

“In any society, the artist has a responsibility. His effectiveness is certainly limited and a painter or writer cannot change the world. But they can keep an essential margin of non-conformity alive. Thanks to them the powerful can never affirm that everyone agrees with their acts. That small difference is important.”
– Luis Buñuel

Odds Against Tomorrow (UA 1959) – 96 min.

Director – Robert Wise

Writing credits:
William P. McGivern – novel
Abraham Polonsky (front John O. Killens) and Nelson Gidding – screenplay

Harry Belafonte – Johnny Ingram
Robert Ryan – Earle Slater
Shelley Winters – Lorry
Ed Begley – Dave Burke
Gloria Grahame – Helen
Will Kuluva – Bacco
Kim Hamilton – Ruth Ingram
Mae Barnes – Annie
Richard Bright – Coco
Carmen De Lavallade – Kittie
Lew Gallo – Moriarty
Lois Thorne – Edie Ingram

Produced by:
Phil Stein – associate producer
Robert Wise – producer
Harry Belafonte – co-producer (uncredited)

Original Music -John Lewis

Cinematography – Joseph C. Brun

Editor – Dede Allan

Filmed on location in the town of Hudson in the Hudson River Valley, New York City, and at the Gold Medal Studios in the Bronx.

UK film writer Philip French in the Observer in 2009 related that Odds Against Tomorrow (1959) “was the favourite film of Jean-Pierre Melville, who saw it 120 times before directing his noir masterwork Le deuxième soufflé (1966)”.

Odds Against Tomorrow in my estimation is a work of art. The culmination of the classic film noir cycle and deserving of much greater recognition, not only as a consummate film, but also as the harbinger of the re-invention of film noir in the 1960s by Sam Fuller in Hollywood and Melville in France.


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