Off the Shelf: From Noon Till Three (Blu-ray)

by Patrick Bromley

It’ll keep you on the edge of your saddle.

As someone who grew up on the ‘80s output of Charles Bronson — movies in which he usually played a grimacing cop cleaning up the streets with his own brand of justice, usually for Cannon Films — I sometimes forget that he was once a big movie star who did more than scowl while wasting punks in New York. While fans of his Golden Age work probably know him best for movies like The Dirty Dozen and Once Upon a Time in the West, I’ve been discovering some of his smaller, lesser-known efforts in recent years and realizing that Bronson had a taste for the idiosyncratic and the potential to shine in those kinds of movies. The latest title to add to that list is From Noon Till Three, a charming and offbeat comic western recently released to Blu-ray from Twilight Time.

Bronson plays Graham Dorsey, an outlaw riding into town to pull off a robbery as part of a gang of bandits. Graham is having second thoughts, though, after a nightmare in which he envisions the robbery as a trap that gets him and his friends killed. He opts to stay back and hole up at the home of widow Starbuck (Jill Ireland, Bronson’s real-life wife), whose horse the gang had intended to steal. During the three-hour window before his friends return, Dorsey and Starbuck bicker, talk and eventually wind up in bed together, falling into a whirlwind romance from which Dorsey does not wish to leave. When he’s forced to ride out and check on the fate of his gang, everything changes and new legends are born.

It’s hard to describe the plot of From Noon Till Three in a way that accurately conveys the film’s pleasures. The screenplay, by writer/director Frank D. Gilroy, is based on his own novel and it feels like it: it’s a movie that continues to unfold in unpredictable ways based on who these characters are rather than establish a premise early on and follow it through in lockstep. The first act features bandits and shootouts and an outlaw taking refuge in the home of a good woman against her will — pretty standard western stuff — while the second act becomes a sweet and gentle romance. The third act…well, I don’t want to say what happens in the third act, as there’s almost no chance anyone can predict where the movie is going based on what has happened so far. When you see as many movies as I do, any movie that’s able to go to unexpected places is a welcome surprise.

While it may be too soon to make this kind of a declaration, I sat through From Noon Till Three pretty certain that it was the best I’d ever seen Bronson on screen. He gets to be funny and charming, sweet and romantic, petty and pathetic. He is more than likely a con man, but the fact that Bronson is able to keep us guessing as to his character’s true motivations is a sign of just how good his performance in the movie is — his Graham Dorsey could be seen in a number of ways, all of them potentially correct. It helps that he’s acting opposite his real-life wife Jill Ireland, with whom he has a genuine chemistry and who always brings out the best in the actor when acting opposite him. Ireland, like Bronson, creates in Widow Starbuck a character who is difficult to pin down, and while the first half of the film can be a little tough to stomach by 2016 standards (it is suggested that Bronson makes a woman fall in love with him after having sex one time, and by forcing himself on her no less), the back half of the movie turns the tables on both characters in such a way that it forces us to rethink exactly what has happened. Maybe things aren’t so cut and dried after all.

Twilight Time is releasing the Blu-ray of From Noon Till Three in their usual limited run of 3,000 units. The 1080p HD transfer offers the movie in its original 1.85:1 widescreen aspect ratio and looks great for a film that’s 40 years old; like most westerns, the color palette is subdued (limited to a lot of earth tones) but the image is bright and clean and filled with good texture and detail. Twilight Time always puts care into the transfers on their releases and it shows even on smaller titles like this. The lossless mono track offered for the main audio option is surprisingly strong, presenting clear dialogue and some lively effects, all mixed well with composer Elmer Bernstein’s lovely and quirky score. That score is actually offered as an isolated option, as is customary for Twilight Time. The only other bonus feature offered is the original theatrical trailer.

From Noon Till Three is exactly the kind of movie I love to discover — one that works within a familiar genre but which carves out its own space by not adhering to any strict rules about what story it can tell or the way it can tell it. It’s a small movie, sure, and could be dismissed as “slight,” but it actually has quite a bit to say about myth making and the way that legends are created and passed down, which is something with which almost all westerns concern themselves. At the very least, it allowed me to see a side of Charles Bronson I had never seen before. What a pleasant surprise this was.

Blu-ray release date:
99 minutes/1976/PG
1.85:1 1080p
DTS HD 1.0 Master Audio (English)

Blu-ray bonus features:
Isolated score
Theatrical trailer

Off the Shelf: Hannie Caulder (Blu-ray)

by Patrick Bromley

There was a notch on her gun for every man she got!

The 1970 movie Hannie Caulder is a fascinating mix of a traditional American western and a nastier Italian one. Director (and uncredited screenwriter) Burt Kennedy knows his way around the genre, having directed mostly westerns from the 1950s through the '70s, but here is pushing in a darker, bloodier direction. This is a movie with a glamorous, iconic movie star playing cowgirl, a rousing and upbeat score Ken Thorne and a rape revenge plot at its center. It's a weird combination of elements, but that's what makes it great. And Hannie Caulder is pretty great.

After a bank robbery gone wrong, the Clemens gang -- played by Ernest Borgnine, Jack Elam and Strother Martin -- come upon a ranch occupied by Hannie Caulder (Raquel Welch) and her husband. The men murder the husband, rape Hannie and burn the house to the ground leaving her for dead. The surviving Hannie enlists the aid of bounty hunter Thomas Luther Price (Robert Culp) to train her as a gunfighter so she can get her revenge on the men who wronged her. Like all revenge missions, this one gets bloody.

There's a lot to appreciate in Hannie Caulder, whether it's the gorgeous vistas photographed by Edward Scaife or Ken Thorne's rousing score or the character actor triptych of Ernest Borgnine, Jack Elam and Strother Martin or the appearance of Christopher Lee as a cowboy or the very existence of Raquel Welch, a screen presence unlike anyone before or since. But the movie's true secret weapon is Robert Culp as the bounty hunter who becomes a mentor to Hannie in much the same way that Dr. King Schultz did to Django in Django Unchained. While the character work is good across the board (save for Hannie, who is mostly a cipher), Culp creates someone who feels brand new and fully realized. He's almost bookish -- a badass who never has to prove he's a badass -- and his relationship with Hannie feels like it could be romantic someday but is borne out of mutual respect. I don't want to suggest there's something paternal about it because that, combined with the possibility of romance, makes it sound creepy. It isn't. I love their dynamic, mostly because I love Robert Culp here.

I also love the way that director Burt Kennedy commits to all of the movie's big emotions. Hannie Caulder doesn't do anything by half measures, whether it's the bloody violence or Hannie's impassioned rage or the operatic western scope. That's why I mean when I say that the movie feels like a really good mix of American and Italian styles; there's something that's always a little bit square with most American westerns and something unabashedly emotional about spaghetti westerns. Hannie Caulder exists at the cross section of both.

Hannie Caulder is the next in Olive Films' "signature" line; though the company first released the movie on Blu-ray in 2011, this new disc contains an updated HD transfer and a handful of bonus features to make it a true "special edition." The 2.35:1-framed, 1080p HD image is very good, cleaned up and boasting nice detail as well as a considerable amount of grain. There are some really good bonus features, including a commentary from filmmaker and fan Alex Cox (Repo Man, Sid & Nancy) and some interviews that that discuss the making of the movie and its placement within the rape-revenge genre, which arrive at the conclusion that it's not a great example of female empowerment because so much of film is experienced through the POV of the rapists.

I first caught Hannie Caulder on Netflix a year or two ago. It has since been removed, because such is the downside of streaming media. This is a movie I want to own, so I'm happy to see Olive Films upgrading their original barebones Blu-ray release and giving this title the special edition treatment it deserves. If you haven't seen it and you find yourself ever agreeing with my tastes, you really should check it out. This is a movie that deserves a bigger audience. Do it for Robert Culp.

Blu-ray release date: November 15, 2016
85 minutes/1971/R
2.35:1 (1080p)
DTS HD 2.0 Master Audio (English)
Subtitles: English (SDH)

Blu-ray bonus features:
Alex Cox Commentary
"Exploitation or Redemption?" Featurette
"Win or Lose: Tigon Pictures and the Making of Hannie Caulder" Featurette
"Sympathy for Lady Vengeance" Text Essay by Kim Morgan

Buy Hannie Caulder from Olive Films here

A Movie I'm Thankful For: Star Trek: The Motion Picture

by Heath Holland

The human adventure is just beginning.

A lot has been said about 1979’s Star Trek: The Motion Picture, so in order for me to explain why I’m thankful for this movie, we must first set aside the highly-discussed elements like that bald lady, Shatner’s new thicket of hair, the unflattering costumes that put camel toes and moose knuckles center stage, the many long, tedious special effects shots, and let’s even choose not to discuss the alarming fact that there’s a pedophile in the cast. Most of these (pedo excluded) are superficial aspects of the film. Beneath these things lies an emotional undercurrent that seems at odds with its reputation as the most boring of all the movies.

People don’t really even ARGUE that Star Trek: The Motion Picture isn’t boring these days, because it’s generally accepted that it is. Yes, it can be a nightmare for those of us who struggle with ADD, and it’s inarguable that this first film in the series is an entirely different beast than any other that would come after it, but I’ve actually come to see this as its greatest asset. You won’t find any fist fights or long action scenes in this movie. No one has sex (that we know of). There are no space chases, no scenes of a ship whizzing by the screen at high speed, and nary a Beastie Boys song to be found. As an entry in then-new blockbuster cinema filmmaking, it fails to ignite and it fails to excite.

Dig a little deeper and you find an undercurrent of human electricity beneath the tedium. Unlike future films which embrace the more adventurous aspects of the premise, Star Trek: The Motion Picture plays out almost entirely in human drama. Sure, there are loads of special effects shots, but they merely serve as the window dressing for a very cerebral, introspective story. Star Trek: TMP presents us with a future very different from the one audiences had last seen during the televised adventures of Kirk, Spock, and McCoy a decade earlier. The universe is expansive and dangerous. Even a simple transporter trip (“beam me up…carefully”) can go wrong and end life in an instant. Gone are the bright colors of the TV series that came straight out of a roll of Life Savers; they’ve been replaced with earthy browns, blues, and grays against the cold darkness of space. Humanity feels TINY in this movie, almost completely alone in a sea of emptiness. Gone are the constant winks at the audience; this crew seems pretty dour and cynical when we meet them. Spock’s been on leave trying to purge himself of all emotion. McCoy has moved on from Starfleet and is mad that he’s been reactivated and that he has to shave his sweet hipster beard. Kirk has become an admiral, achieving a higher level of authority but becoming a part of the machine that he once rebelled against.

I appreciate how the movie spends the bulk of its running time showing the crew come back together, overcome their differences and their own character flaws, particularly Kirk (“Captain’s log: Kirk is a jerk). There is a larger, universal threat that looms throughout the plot, but the real focus of the story falls on the people in the ship. I believe that the real enemy of Star Trek: TMP is our own nature. Kirk is consumed with jealousy and his need to have power and be in control at all times, refusing to cooperate with others or recognize the competence of those who have been hired for this mission. While future movies would explore other aspects of Kirk such as his refusal of death, only Star Trek: TMP spends so much of its time on Kirk’s insecurity and need for power. Not many movies take the time or have the luxury to explore the flaws of their leads like this one does.

I appreciate that the screenplay finds new and interesting ways to deal with the overall threat in the film, eschewing the usual tropes of a climactic battle and instead opting for CREATION instead of destruction. As our characters start to rediscover their own purpose, the film seems to be trying very hard to tell us that there is beauty in exploration, discovery, and birth, which is what it thinks we are here to do as a human race. In contrast to the dark, uncertain backdrop (which reflected the political and social climate of the 1970s during which this film was created), the messages of humanism, optimism, and reaching beyond our own flaws to work together are kind of staggering in their boldness.

Star Trek: The Motion Picture is full of firsts. It’s the first cinematic voyage of the starship Enterprise. It’s the first time we see Klingons with those funky head-ridges, the way we’d come to know them from that point forward. It’s the first time we get to hear the sweeping, adventurous, hopeful theme from Jerry Goldsmith. Trek’s creator Gene Roddennberry liked the music and thought it exemplified his themes so much that he made it the theme song for Star Trek: The Next Generation. All of these are things for which I’m very thankful. Without this movie, the franchise that I love probably wouldn’t have lived past the 1970s. It would be like a Bee Gees song that you recognize but don’t really want to listen to because it’s too rooted in one particular time and place.

Unfortunately in my opinion, the sequels were brought more in line with traditional blockbuster tropes. Nicholas Meyer was hired and things were changed forever. I love ALL of the movies in the series and I adore Nicholas Meyer; however, the shift in tone is somewhat unfortunate; every subsequent movie offers more popcorn thrills and larger-than-life bad guys to please all audiences and sacrifices some of the introspection that makes ST: TMP so unique. Roddenberry, was only allowed to be heavily involved in this first film, making it the strongest, purest example of his vision for the fictional world he created. Maybe that’s why he was conflicted and sometimes harsh in his thoughts on the end results of future films. It’s sad to me that Gene Roddenberry’s thoughtful, challenging vision of the future never really mixed with mainstream popular entertainment. Maybe it never could.

When I’m feeling down or beaten up by events in the world, I almost always turn to Star Trek. It doesn’t represent a perfect future: there is still violence, war, racism, jealousy, and avarice. But it shows a humanity that is actively trying to put aside most of their differences and is striving toward being the best that they can be. I believe that Star Trek: The Motion Picture is the boldest statement of this in the entire franchise. This Thanksgiving, I’m grateful for this weird, flawed -- and yes, sometimes even boring -- movie and its promise that “the human adventure is just beginning.”

A Movie I'm Thankful For: Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory

by JB

“Tell me, where is fancy bread: in the heart or in the head?”

Many of us are a bit stunned and saddened these last few weeks, but I have always found this film to be a sure cure for the blues. Made by a team that realized that children’s entertainment is the highest calling, not just a fallback when mainstream success proves elusive, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory is one of the best “kiddie pictures” ever made.

The Plot in Brief: Willy Wonka’s famous chocolate factory is a secret. No one ever goes in, and no one ever comes out. One day, Wonka (Gene Wilder) announces a worldwide contest, the prize being a tour of his facility and a lifetime supply of chocolate. Five golden tickets have been placed inside Wonka chocolate bars, and the lucky finders of those will win the prize.

Five children wind up with the shimmering chits: Augustus Gloop (Michael Bollner), Veruca Salt (Julie Dawn Cole), Violet Beauregarde (Denise Nickerson), Mike Teevee (Paris Thieman), and Charlie Bucket (Peter Ostrum). What candy wonders will the children see inside the factory? What kind of man is the mysterious Mr. Wonka?

Gene Wilder is the cornerstone of the film and gives his greatest performance in it. By turns mysterious, mischievous, winsome, antic, sarcastic, and downright scary, the audience never quite gets a handle on his Willy Wonka, until all is revealed in the film’s climax. I love how he sings his solo song, “Pure Imagination,” not with happiness and joy, but with wonder and, dare I say, sadness? The depth of feeling he brings to this simple song is impressive and keeps the film from seeming “one note.” I just love all of the Internet memes that have sprung up featuring Wilder’s expressive “Wonka face.”

Both Roald Dahl, the author of the beloved source material, and the filmmakers realized that for the happy ending to ring true, the scary stuff had to be honestly scary. “The Rowing Song,” which Wilder recites like a man possessed as he and his charges embark on an eventful boat ride, has to rank as one of the “Top Five Scariest Scenes” in the history of children’s films. Another reason to recommend this film is that the funny stuff is honestly funny-- especially Wonka’s many asides.

“The Rowing Song”

Round the world and home again,
That’s the sailor’s way
Faster faster, faster, faster!

There’s no earthly way of knowing
Which direction we are going.
There’s no knowing where we’re rowing
Or which way the river’s flowing.

Is it raining, is it snowing?
Is a hurricane a–blowing?
Not a speck of light is showing,
So the danger must be growing.
Are the fires of Hell a–glowing?
Is the grisly reaper mowing?

Yes, the danger must be growing
For the rowers keep on rowing,
And they’re certainly not showing
Any signs that they are slowing…

The performances by the child actors are quite good. I have read that Gene Wilder got along famously with all of them, except young Paris Thieman. While shooting the picture, he gave a television interview in which he stated that four of the children were delightful, but that he “was going to throw one of them out the window tomorrow.” Veruca Salt’s solo song, “I Want It Now” is so delightful that I sometimes wish that each child got his or her own solo, but that is a quibble. “The Oompa Loompa Song,” which is used in place of the book’s lengthy, preachy poems, suffices to summarize each child in song.

“There’s no earthly way of knowing… which direction we are going…

So here we have a film about a mysterious and possibly malevolent man, who is in charge of a vast enterprise. We have our doubts and fears, but we are forced by circumstance and the hope of reward to come along on this tour. Is he crazy? Does he really have our best interests at heart, or is he just out for himself? Will we be harmed in any way by this journey?

There’s no knowing where we’re rowing, or which way the river’s flowing...

I pray nightly that at the end of the next four years, I get my chocolate.