Italian Horror Blogathon: Spasmo

Umberto Lenzi’s Spasmo is one of the most gonzo-gialli I’ve ever seen. In fact, don’t let the labeling on the cover of the DVD fool you, this is not a “giallo classic.” Oh, that’s not to say it isn’t good; it’s just that I don’t think I would go as far as calling Spasmo a classic...or even a giallo, for that matter. At least not a giallo in the traditional sense, for Spasmo is more a psychological thriller than a black-gloved-killer-stalks-promiscuous-women horror film. And in fact, Spasmo is surprisingly tame for a film directed by Lenzi (more on that later), and maybe that’s why I liked it so much. I will freely admit from the onset of this review that I am perhaps overrating Spasmo because I was okay with its goofiness, and I found myself just having so much damn fun with it.

Trying to sum up Spasmo’s plot seems like a pointless endeavor, what with all of its convoluted twists and turns (I read a handful of synopses after I watched the film to try and get it straight, but I wasn’t sure I still got everything), but here goes: A young couple is making out on a deserted road when their afternoon delight is interrupted when the man notices a woman hanging from a tree. Naturally this ruins the mood, but as the couple moves in to get a closer look, they realize that the dead woman is really just a well-made, extremely lifelike rubber dummy. And then the film begins proper. This opening hints at things to come, but Lenzi interjects these moments with people finding these dummies as a break from the primary story. At first, we’re not sure what these fake murder scenes with the dummies mean (some are found on the beach, others in the woods; some have knives inserted them, others are smeared with fake blood), but to give credit where it’s due, Lenzi finds a meld these interjections into his primary mystery.

As for the primary plot: Christian (Robert Hoffman), an heir to an industrial fortune, meets a women named Barbara (Suzy Kendall), who seems to have some kind of sexual power over him as he instantly becomes obsessed with her. It doesn’t take much convincing from Christian before she takes him back to her apartment where Christian is sure to get some as long as he shaves his beard. And, no, that’s not a joke; there is a line in the film where she tells him he’ll get lucky so long as he shaves his beard off. So,  while in the bathroom, Christian is attacked by a gun-wielding stranger, who he ends up killing. When Christian rushes out of the bathroom to tell Barbara about what has gone down, she suggests they go back into the bathroom to get some evidence. However,  when they return to the bathroom, the man is gone, suggesting that the whole thing was just in Christian’s head.

And so Spasmo goes. The rest of the film consists of Christian trying to convince others of what happened in the bathroom; he and Barbara taking shelter in what is supposed to be an empty seaside castle that belongs to one of Barbara’s friends only to come across two total strangers (what would a seaside castle in an Italian horror film be without strange goings-on, though, right?), one of which is a woman that seems eerily familiar to Christian; and Christian following the mystery of the identity of his killer (who is now stalking him at the castle) all the way to its shocking conclusion (like any good giallo, Christian is the everyman character that takes the investigation into his own hands). Not to mention the bizarre scenes of the dummies being found hanged and stabbed across the countryside interjected throughout the film.

There’s so much more, but I’ll stop with what I have. Coming from the director of such trash as Cannibal Ferox, Welcome to Spring Break and Ghosthouse, it’s hard to remember a time when Lenzi really cared about his craft (Seven Bloodstained Orchids, a film I reviewed last year for this blogathon, is another great Lenzi giallo), but he seems to really be trying with Spasmo. There isn’t much evidence (aside from his Italian crime movies) to suggest that Lenzi was anything more than a hack, but films like Seven Bloodstained Orchids and Spasmo suggest, at the very least, a capable filmmaker that was wanting to try for something different with the giallo, a subgenre that was losing steam by 1974.  

Once again (just as we discussed yesterday with What Have You Done to Solange?), a director is given a mighty assist from Ennio Morricone, whose score here is one of the film’s highlights, beautifully underlining each scene with the appropriate displacing score or musical cue that suggests Christian isn’t sure of what’s real and what isn’t. After all, a film where lifelike, human-sized dolls keep popping up in ersatz crime scenes requires an off-kilter score, and Morricone delivers in spades. Perhaps more than any other genre composer, Morricone is as important to the film's tone as any other member of the crew.

Aesthetically, Lenzi does something interesting with this one in that it’s not shot like most gialli; there is no black-gloved killer lurking in the shadows, there is no subjective POV of the killer menacing nude women, there is no amateur playing detective and solving the case before the police do, and (perhaps most surprisingly considering this is Lenzi we’re dealing with) there aren’t those gratuitous, lurid moments of exploitation. In some cases, that’s disappointing because that lurid exploitation usually comes off as great cheese — especially when Lenzi does cheese (see: Hitcher in the Dark and Welcome to Spring Break) — and makes for entertaining trash at times. However, Spasmo plays it straight, and as far as a legitimate mystery, I was shocked by how into I was and how (sort of) neatly and (sort of) logically it all wrapped up.

All that to say: the film is fairly subdued and straight forward in how it’s shot. Lenzi does a good job of hinting at Christian’s possible insanity (the trailer is more gonzo than the film) with little camera tricks here and there, but outside of the requisite 1970’s zooms (not just relegated to Italian horror, mind you), Lenzi lets his story do the heavy lifting.

And this is what I alluded to in my review yesterday: A lot of people find gialli boring because the majority of them are the antithesis of what so many associate with the great Italian horror films of Bava and Argento and Fulci, where ethereal aesthetics take precedence over logical storylines (this is more applicable to the latter two filmmakers than the former). Don’t get me wrong, Spasmo has energy, but it’s in the narrative (even if the opening bits are kind of a muddled slog) not the aesthetics. A rare thing, indeed for Italian horror. But every now and then, I’m in the mood for that kind of Italian horror film, and I caught Spasmo on the right day.

So, this review is getting as jumbled as the plot to Spasmo, so I guess I should wrap this up. Here’s the best way to approach Spasmo: like the majority of Italian horror, the viewer needs to leave their logic at the door and just enjoy the ride. But unlike most (popular) Italian horror, the film is light on atmosphere and crazy aesthetics that detract from the illogical narrative. Spasmo is an head trip, for sure — a psychological thriller more than your average stalk-and-slash giallo/Krimi procedural — and Lenzi wants us to pay attention to his crazy mystery. And because of that fact, I really dug it.  I love what Lenzi does with the first half of his film (even though it doesn’t make a lick of sense), and I was pretty floored by the miraculous feat Lenzi is able to pull all off in melding the majority of these insane elements together into some kind of coherent ending. But it will take patience on the viewer’s end; the film borders on excruciating tedium in that first hour, but if you stick with it, you’ll be rewarded with one of Lenzi’s best efforts, and, really, one of the best and most fun of the later era gialli that you’re likely to come across.

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Italian Horror Blogathon: What Have You Done to Solange? (aka Cosa avete fatto a Solange?, Terror in the Woods, The School that Couldn't Scream, The Secret of the Green Pins)

I think of Italian horror in stages: you have your Gothic stuff from Bava, you have your ethereal horror a la Suspiria, you have your cannibal subgenre, you have your cheap knockoffs of popular American films, you have your zombies, and you have your gialli. It is this later category that Italy is most known for. Sure, anti-narrative fare like the Lucio Fulci’s The Beyond is what stands out the most to fans, but it is those early gialli — with their whodunit, Edgar Wallace-esque narratives and block-gloved killers — that most people think of when the topic of Italian horror comes up. The sheer volume of titles that continue to be unearthed, cleaned up on DVD, and presented to American audiences is staggering. There are still so many gialli that I’ve never even heard of that I continue to come across every year I do this blogathon. These films have a higher percentage of being terrible because if the mystery isn’t engaging, there usually isn’t a whole lot about the film’s aesthetic that engages me. Whereas with a film like City of the Living Dead, for example, may confound me and even make me laugh at how silly it all is — but damn does it look great in stretches. This is not always so with a giallo — where if the narrative is a slog, then the entire film is usually a slog because there usually just isn’t anything too pretty to look at (unless, of course, you’re Mario Bava) to distract you from how boring the film is.

All of this is to say that when Dario Argento burst on the scene in 1970 with the release of The Bird with the Crystal Plumage, there was a bit of resurgence for the giallo — a subgenre that dominated Italian horror for much of the ‘60s. It would only last until Argento (and American horror films like The Exorcist that were hugely popular in Italy) changed the game years later with Suspiria. All of this is to say (and here I am nearly two paragraphs in, and I haven't even mentioned the title of the movie I'm talking about yet) that when I popped in Massimo Dallamano's What Have You Done to Solange? for this blogathon, I was absolutely floored by how into it I was. It's one of the better gialli I've seen.

I'll make the plot synopsis brief since (even though the film is 40 years old) nobody wants a good mystery ruined for them. The film opens with a man and a woman makin' whoopee in a rowboat. The man in question is Enrico Rossini (Fabio Testi, who later starred in Fulci's Contraband and other poliziotteschi), an Italian gymnastics instructor who has moved to London, with his German wife, to teach at an elite Catholic girls school. His wife, Herta (Karin Baal), is also a teacher at the school, but alas, it is not her who is in the rowboat with Enrico...that rapscallion. Italian stereotypes aside, Enrico is the youngest teacher at the school and the girls love him. Some are even in love with him, and Enrico, never one to disappoint his students, begins an affair with Elizabeth (Christina Galbo), an 18 year-old senior whose family is very prominent in the community.  

So, back to the rowboat: Enrico and Elizabeth are necking in the rowboat when Elizabeth swears that she has seen an heinous action on the riverbank. This ruins the mood (Enrico isn't convinced and thinks she's just trying to play defense against him) and acts as the catalyst for our mystery as the next morning Enrico reads the newspaper, learning that there was indeed a murder in that location the day before. Even more worrisome to Enrico is that the victim was a fellow student of Elizabeth's. What makes the mystery so intriguing at first is that it's a balancing act between Elizabeth's vision and Enrico trying to hide his infidelity when the police come snooping around the school.

Naturally Enrico doesn't want his affair with a student to get out, considering it could ruin the school's reputation and his marriage. But when more students end up dead (the method of which, a knife through their vagina, is rather gruesome), Enrico has to give in even though he maintains that the information he has, and what little Elizabeth actually saw, can't really help the police with their investigation. In typical giallo/Krimi fashion, Enrico fears that the investigation is focusing too much on him and not trying to find the real killer, so he takes matters into his own hands and begins investigating the murders. This "everyman as police investigator" is a required element in these kind of films, and even though most gialli have convoluted mysteries with huge plot holes, Solange is surprisingly adept. Enrico's investigation leads him to the truth  before the police, natch (with one of those wonderful bits of exposition found in almost all gialli where he says, "the revenge he planned was symbolically obvious..." while gathered with the police around the dead body of the killer), but the reveal of the film's central mystery is at once horrifying and surprisingly poignant.

Solange's director, Massimo Dallamano, was most known for his work as DP on Leone’s A Fistful of Dollars and For a Few Dollars More. The only film of his I was familiar with prior to this film was the The Omen rip-off The Night Child, whose trailer pops up a lot of on exploitation trailer comps (spoiler: it's no good). But I have to say, Solange makes me more than curious about his other work (only The Night Child and his earlier Devil in the Flesh constitute horror), especially his poliziotteschi since the mystery in Solange is so solid. Here, he shows enough restraint during the murders that the film doesn't come off as lurid trash, and with a big assist from Ennio Morricone's score (with its great opening theme, posted for you below), he's actually able to pull off a poignant coda; a rare thing, indeed, for a giallo.

As I mentioned earlier, there usually isn't much aesthetically going on in these giallo/Krimi films, and Solange is no different. There are exceptions to be sure (anything by Bava, Argento, Martino), but the real joy and craft is in how well the filmmakers unfold their mystery and whether or not they can successfully pull the rug out from under the viewer. However, the look of Solange is surprisingly coherent, never getting in the way of the central mystery. It's surprising because the DP is non other than Aristide Massaccesi (better known to Americans as Joe D’Amato). This isn't the zoom-obsessed (although it is 1970's Italian cinema, so there are going to be zooms whether you like it or not) Massaccesi who would become the hack we love to rib on this blog; no, this was before the days of filling up his CV with crap like Emmanuel and the Last Cannibals, Papaya: Love Goddess of the Cannibals, Sexy Nights of the Living Dead, and Porno Holocaust. His camerawork here is more than serviceable, and it suggests the sort-of-capable filmmaker we would see in spurts in Beyond the Darkness and Anthropophagus (the only two films of his I've had anything positive to say about).

Perhaps the best part about Solange is that it's interested in all kinds of little details that move the mystery along. There are Red Herrings, to be sure, but they're quickly dealt with, as it really comes across as Dallamano and co. were sure not to insult the intelligence of the viewer (there's an interestingly self-aware line at the beginning of the film when Enrico says, “a suspicious wife is a very boring character," essentially eliminating his wife as a potential suspect) by paying more attention to the nuances of the mystery. This made me giddy, for it is a rare thing indeed for a giallo not to completely fall of the rails logically.

“If I’ve seen one giallo, I’ve seen them all” is a common sentiment among horror fans, and so as I wrap this post up I just want to throw my weight behind the film and urge those that think all gialli are the same to give this one a shot. Even for those that are squeamish and don't like Italian horror because of its penchant for the grotesque, really, with the exception of one gruesome looking x-ray and a flashback that is admittedly disturbing (although free of blood), Solange is light on gore, and contains one hell of a mystery. In fact, it's the rare '70s giallo that is more interested in its mystery than gruesomeness. See it; it's well worth your time.

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Italian Horror Blogathon begins this Thursday!

The Italian Horror blogathon begins this Thursday! I'll have a post up early Thursday morning (around 7ish Pacific Time); you can use the comments of that post to give me the links to your pieces. I'll update the post every morning during the blogathon with the most up-to-date links. The blogathon goes until the Halloween night, so there is still plenty of time to find something to watch and participate. Help spread the word by posting this info and banner on your blog. See ya in a couple of days!

Below is the original announcement with all of the information and banners

....

Ciao a tutti!

As many of you know, this time of the year marks a time of black-gloved killers, zombies, cannibals, and all kinds of Italian horror goodness here at Hugo Stiglitz Makes Movies. This is always the one thing I most look forward to (blogging-wise) during the year, and I cannot wait to share this space with all of you and your great entries once again. If last year was any indication, we should have a lot of entries for this year's blogathon as many of you have indicated that you're once again interested in participating. If that is the case, then please post the following information along with one of the banners (linking back to this blog) on your blog.

What: 4th Annual Italian Horror Blogathon
Where: Hugo Stiglitz Makes Movies
When: October 24-31
Who: Anyone that wants to watch an Italian horror movie and write about it! (Seriously, you don't have to be some horror maven to participate.)
Why: Because it's fun! (Check out past years here, here, and here to get in the spirit)
How: Just watch an Italian horror film and write about it; any time during the blogathon send me the link either via email or the comments section, and I'll post it for all to see.

When the time comes for the blogathon, I'll have another post up with some instructions (it helps if you link to the blog in your post so that others can read what people are submitting) as well as having a main entry where you can post your links in the comments section (as in previous years, I'll keep an updated version of this on the top of the page with all of the latest links).  I'm always honored by the quantity and quality of the entries that I get, and I have no doubts, thanks to all of you, that this will be another successful year. So please join in the fun! If you have any questions about what to watch and write about, ask in the comments. I'm always happy to offer suggestions.

Below are the blog banners (I've added more for this year as I've updated some of the banners from earlier blogathons) that I'll hope you'll put on your blogs to help promote this thing. Also, I am posting a link to an Italian horror "primer" of sorts -- a very crude and rudimentary attempt at offering some kind of introduction to the subgenre for the uninitiated -- I did last year that attempts to cover a lot of what I find interesting and special about this particular subgenre (it's definitely not complete considering the fact that I really wish I would have mentioned the importance of music/sound in Italian horror). Until then, Buona visione!

Link to Italian Horror: A Primer can be found here.

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Blog Announcement: Announcing the 4th Annual Italian Horror Blogathon

Ciao a tutti!

As many of you know, this time of the year marks a time of black-gloved killers, zombies, cannibals, and all kinds of Italian horror goodness here at Hugo Stiglitz Makes Movies. This is always the one thing I most look forward to (blogging-wise) during the year, and I cannot wait to share this space with all of you and your great entries once again. If last year was any indication, we should have a lot of entries for this year's blogathon as many of you have indicated that you're once again interested in participating. If that is the case, then please post the following information along with one of the banners (linking back to this blog) on your blog.

What: 4th Annual Italian Horror Blogathon
Where: Hugo Stiglitz Makes Movies
When: October 24-31
Who: Anyone that wants to watch an Italian horror movie and write about it! (Seriously, you don't have to be some horror maven to participate.)
Why: Because it's fun! (Check out past years here, here, and here to get in the spirit)
How: Just watch an Italian horror film and write about it; any time during the blogathon send me the link either via email or the comments section, and I'll post it for all to see.


When the time comes for the blogathon, I'll have another post up with some instructions (it helps if you link to the blog in your post so that others can read what people are submitting) as well as having a main entry where you can post your links in the comments section (as in previous years, I'll keep an updated version of this on the top of the page with all of the latest links).  I'm always honored by the quantity and quality of the entries that I get, and I have no doubts, thanks to all of you, that this will be another successful year. So please join in the fun! If you have any questions about what to watch and write about, ask in the comments. I'm always happy to offer suggestions.

Below are the blog banners (I've added more for this year as I've updated some of the banners from earlier blogathons) that I'll hope you'll put on your blogs to help promote this thing. Also, I am posting a link to an Italian horror "primer" of sorts -- a very crude and rudimentary attempt at offering some kind of introduction to the subgenre for the uninitiated -- I did last year that attempts to cover a lot of what I find interesting and special about this particular subgenre (it's definitely not complete considering the fact that I really wish I would have mentioned the importance of music/sound in Italian horror). Until then, Buona visione!

Link to Italian Horror: A Primer can be found here.

Banners:

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Get ready...

It's been almost two months since I've posted something on here. I may have neglected my Director Retrospective (for now...I will pick that up again), but I'll be damned if I allow the month of October to go by without doing the one thing I most look forward to doing every year on this blog: the Italian Horror Blogathon. Official post will be up soon. Just wanted everyone to know that, yes, I'm still planning on doing this. Stay tuned.

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Summer of Slash: Silent Rage

No one was immune to the slasher craze happening between 1980-1982. Not even Chuck Norris. Therefore, in 1982 at the height of the slasher craze, we got Silent Rage, an odd amalgam of Chuck Norris actioner and Halloween rip-off (I always found Wikipedia’s classification of the film as a “action/romance/science fiction/horror movie” pretty amusing). This is a movie that makes no bones about how blatantly it is ripping off other popular ideas of the time (you’d think this were an Italian genre movie) — it also has a bit of The Terminator in it and even makes time for a little “Dukes of Hazzard” hillbilly hijinks with the obligatory fat deputy character — which, I have to say, makes for a pretty entertaining 100 minutes.
 
The film concerns itself with a former mental patient, John Kirby (Brian Libby), who we’re introduced to on a hectic morning filled with telephones ringing, children screaming, and all sorts of little annoyances that would cause Kirby to further lose his grip on reality. As he wanders around the noise-filled house, he places a phone call to his doctor informing him that he’s “losing it,” and doesn’t think he can keep it together much longer. Well, “much longer” is about two minutes. After failing to distract himself with cutting wood and gathering some chickens, Kirby just decides to take an axe inside and murder two people.

Enter Sheriff Dan Stevens (Norris), who with no help from his incompetent and chubby deputy Charlie (Stephen Furst), takes out Kirby who is transported to the hospital where he is expected to die from his wounds. However, in a secret experimental wing of the hospital, three doctors work on Kirby using powerful drugs that regenerate cells. The head doctor, Spires (Steven Keats), utters lines like, “As beautiful a creature created by nature” so that we know he’s the evil doctor who has no problem experimenting on humans as long as it gets him his Pulitzer Nobel! While Doctor Halman (Ron Silver) says things like, “And as grotesque as anything created by man” so that we know he’s the humane doctor. All of this leads to the inevitable: Kirby’s wounds heal at a rapid pace, turning him into an indestructible monster a la Michael Myers or the T-800. So what could possibly bring down this indestructible monster, you ask? Well, some tight-jeaned roundhouse kicks from Chuck Norris, of course!

And that’s essentially what Silent Rage has up its sleeve: it pits Chuck Norris versus Michael Myers. All of the film’s stalking scenes are just rehashed bits from Halloween and Halloween II; all of the film’s action scenes are just rehashed bits from previous Chuck Norris movies like Breaker, Breaker; and the film’s ending is just The Terminator with its take on the indestructible monster. There’s even a scene at the end — after Norris has hip-tossed the Kirby a well stating that "it's over" so that we know that it for sure isn't over — where the film can't help but milk one last cliche as the camera pans over to the well and then down into the well, and...yeah, you know where this is going. The monster emerges from the waters of the well, springing up into frame before the shot freezes. End credits. It wouldn't be a slasher in 1982 without a retread of the Friday the 13th ending (itself a retread of the Carrie ending...I love horror movies).

Silent Rage is goofy, harmless cheese (I mean just look at that poster...how can you not have at least a little affection for this movie), and it should be seen as nothing more than that. There’s absolutely nothing offensively awful about the film. It’s kind of hilarious to watch the film stumble its way through so many genres (especially the Halloween “dead bodies arranged in a room” scene). The film shoehorns in so many awkward scenes in the hopes that it will appeal to both Chuck Norris fans and slasher fans. Between the typical hillbilly sheriff/deputy interactions, the stupid barroom brawl that feels like it’s from a totally different movie, the hilariously anti-climactic ending, the late Ron Silver's glorious overacting, and the bizarre interlude where Norris seduces an ex-girlfriend (I suppose this is where Wikipedia gets off calling the film a “romance” movie), Silent Rage goes down easily enough. And for a slasher flick, let alone a Chuck Norris slasher flick, that’s all I ask for.

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John Frankenheimer: All Fall Down

John Frankenheimer had an incredible run of films in the 1960s. He would release some of his most visually and thematically ambitious films during this decade. In 1962, Frankenheimer would release three films, two of which were to be his most admired (The Birdman of Alcatraz and The Manchurian Candidate). However, it is this third film, All Falls Down, that often gets lost in the shuffle, and it’s easy to see why with its resemblance to films like East of Eden and Splendor in the Grass, All Fall Down doesn’t feel like a John Frankenheimer film. And even though that may seem weird to say considering we’re only three films (and just two of those that I’ve seen) into his filmography, All Fall Down certainly sticks out due to how ordinary the whole thing feels.

All Fall Down’s familiar story concerns itself with 15-year-old Clinton Willart (Brandon De Wilde) who arrives in Florida with some money for his older brother, Berry-Berry (Warren Beatty). Clinton idolizes Berry-Berry, an searches for him so that they can take the money he’s brought and invest in a business together. However, upon his initial search for his brother, Clinton finds that the money his brother asked for wasn’t ever intended for a business deal, it was, instead, intended to bail as bail money. You see, Berry-Berry is in jail for beating up a prostitute, and his name is something you don’t want to utter around town. Clinton, regardless of the rumors surrounding his brother, eventually finds him and pays his bail. Once free, Berry-Berry gives a false promise of visiting for Christmas before sending Clinton back home to Ohio.
These initial moments are pretty straight forward, and it was at this point that I was feeling pretty bummed about having to sit through the rest of this film for another 80 minutes or so. But when Clinton returns home, we begin to find out more about him and his family life, and it is at this point that All Fall Down, albeit familiar territory, becomes a much better and tolerable film with an emphasis on showcasing its extraordinarily good performances from Angela Lansbury and Karl Malden. 

So when Clinton returns home, we meet his prodding, talkative mother Annabel (Lansbury in a performance that Frankenheimer showed Frank Sinatra in order to convince him that she was right for her role as Mrs. Iselin in The Manchurian Candidate) and Ralph (Malden), his likeable but alcoholic (and emasculated) father. The characters are your typical clichéd mom and dad figures in these types of movies, but Lansbury and Malden elevate them beyond cliché and certainly beyond caricature. Anyway, to the surprise of nobody familiar with how these types of films go, Clinton views his parents’ life as a prison — a monotonous existence when held up to his brother’s life. So instead of engaging in conversation with his parents, Clinton spends most of his days sleeping or hiding out in his room, eavesdropping on conversations and then jotting them down into his notepad; meanwhile, his dad constantly retreats to the basement to drink and to get away from his wife, who paces around the house picking every nit there is to pick.

Just as things can’t seem to get any more boring for Clinton, Echo O’Brien (Eva Marie Saint) comes into his life, shattering the dullness that surrounds Clinton and his family. Echo's beauty and charm beguiles the entire family, especially Clinton. Along with Echo’s arrival, the hopes that Berry-Berry will return for Christmas seems to re-energize the entire family. Berry-Berry eventually does end up returning, and, of course, he falls in love with Echo. Or he at least falls in as much love as a narcissist like him can. And when the inevitable happens (Berry-Berry not reciprocating Echo’s love), and Echo falls in love with Berry-Berry only for him to break her heart once he learns that she is pregnant (for he cannot be tied down), she takes her car and drives it off a cliff. Clinton is aghast at the turn of events and goes from idolizing his brother to plotting to kill him.

Outside from a few aesthetic choices and the focus on a seedy milieu, All Fall Down just doesn’t really feel like a Frankenheimer film. Frankenheimer loved the source material, though, and when asked by producer John Houseman to direct the film, he was really excited to make the film (he was also excited to work with William Inge, who Houseman hired to write the script). However, he had to put it on the backburner in order to finish post-production on The Birdman of Alcatraz. So Houseman went about casting the film without him and All Fall Down just feels like a project that Frankenheimer enjoyed making, but one that got the least amount of his attention between The Birdman of Alcatraz and The Manchurian Candidate.

And I think Inge’s script (based on on James Leo Herlihy, author of Midnight Cowboy) is the biggest thing keeping the film from being anything more than a showcase for some great acting. As alluded to earlier, the film feels too much like Inge’s previous Splendor in the Grass — especially in the way the two films deal with, as Stephen Armstrong says, “a love affair between two beautiful neurotics” — and other films of that ilk released around the late ‘50s and early ‘60s. All Fall Down is different in the sense it deals with establishing characters before tragedy punctuates the film whereas Splendor is about characters deal with a tragedy that starts the film.

The few aesthetic touches that Frankenheimer and his DP Lionel Lindon insert into the film — a few canted angles and the Frankenheimer’s favorite, deep focus, pop up here and there — aren’t enough to make the film any easier to get through, as much of All Fall Down plays out in a pretty straight-forward, melodramatic manner, highlighted by some really strong supporting performances. And I’m not trying to suggest that these stories need the kind of aesthetic touches that Frankenheimer and Lindon implement in some of their more showy efforts, but it does make a film like this easier to get through.

As mentioned earlier, Lansbury and Malden are fantastic as the parents. Lansbury’s role is the kind that lends itself to the kind of showy performance that would earn any actress an Academy Award nomination these days. And although Malden doesn’t play “emasculated husband” as well (or over-the-top) as, say, Jim Backus, his role as the father always retreating to the basement for a drink is reason alone to give All Fall Down a try. And Beatty is alright as Berry-Berry. He’s certainly got the right look and the screen presence for the type of character Berry-Berry needs to be. Frankenheimer hated working with him, and what should come as a surprise to absolutely no one, Houseman mentions what an arrogant ass he was on set. In his memoir, Final Dress, Houseman recalled what it was like working with Beatty:

From the start, our most serious problem was young Mr.Beatty. With his angelic arrogance, his determination to emulate Marlon Brando and Jimmy Dean, and his half-baked, overzealous notions of “Method” acting, he succeeded in perplexing and antagonizing not only his fellow actors but our entire crew.

I’m surprised he didn’t mention that Beatty tried to tell Frankenheimer how to direct the film.

Despite the problems on set with Beatty, the filmmakers were pleased with the final product. However, the way the film was received crushed Houseman. MGM’s biggest film that year was Four Horsemanof the Apocalypse, but it was a critical and commercial flop. A panicked MGM scrambled around to find another title to release as their flagship film, but realizing that they didn’t have anything else to release aside from Frankenheimer’s film, they released All Fall Down — what is essentially a small, black-and-white art film — into big moviehouses. And when you think about the kind of mainstream American films audiences were clamoring for in the early ‘60s, the characters and the environment those character inhabit in All Fall Down (or The Young Savages for that matter) were not the kinds of worlds audiences were wanting to escape to. Film’s like King of Kings or West Side Story or Disney films like The Absent-Minded Professor were the types of films topping the box-office charts. So, yeah, audiences were not too enamored with this small picture, and the film bombed.

Despite the commercial failures of All Fall Down, Frankenheimer’s film career was just getting started, and his other two films released in 1962 would go a long way towards cementing his status as a true auteur (although Frankenheimer hated that term) and one of the best (and most underrated) filmmakers of his time.

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