Tag: sam peckinpah

From Apathy to Vengeance: Sam Peckinpah’s BRING ME THE HEAD OF ALFREDO GARCIA

by Frank Mengarelli, posted in Film Review

Sam Peckinpah would have been ninety-six years old recently. For a guy whose legacy is nearly pushing 100, Peckinpah surely left his mark on cinema. He capitalized on telling the story of the forgotten man, or more specifically the man that time left behind. He often focused on the escapism to Mexico; the freedom of it. No laws, but more importantly it did not require the confinement and limitations of the society that lay just above of the border. More importantly, Peckinpah’s cinematic hallmark was nihilism wrapped in angst. 

With BRING ME THE HEAD OF ALFREDO GARCIA, it starts off so mean, so angry. A Mexican gangster has one of his thugs break the arm of his pregnant daughter so she’ll tell him who the father is. When she screams in agony that it is Alfredo Garcia, what ensues is a strange odyssey that is propelled forward with a brilliant Warren Oates as a drunk piano man who lives in Mexico and his street walking girlfriend (magnificently played by Isela Vega) who are seeking Alfredo Garcia for a $10,000 reward. Along their antiheroes journey, they encounter bikers, two gay hitmen, and a host of other surreal obstacles – all so Oates can “start over”. 

The overall character arc of Warren Oates’ Bennie is the traditional ronin narrative coupled with placing an ordinary man in an extraordinary situation.  Of course Bennie is a rube, and Alfredo Garcia’s head is worth $1,000,000 and not just $10,000 – hence his revolving encounter with two presumably gay hitmen played by Robert Webber and Gig Young. The subtext of their relationship just accentuates the oddity that is the film.

Then along comes Kris Kristofferson, at the height of his musical star power, as a would-be rapist, who has his partner hold Oates at gunpoint, so he can take Vega off into the tall grass to rape her, all the while playing the part with a bashful vulnerability. The same sort of somber vulnerability that started the scene; Oates and Vega having a picnic, realizing that their plan to find Garcia’s head and run off with $10,000 is a noble, but ultimately futile plan. They both know the reality of their dead-end lives and share a beautiful moment together that is as bittersweet as tender where they silently acknowledge the reality of everything, together. Of course, Oates saves the day, shoots down Kristofferson and his partner, and he and Vega get back on the road to nowhere, seeking the head of Alfredo Garcia. 

  • BRING ME THE HEAD OF ALFREDO GARCIA
  • 1974
  • dir. Sam Peckinpah
  • feat. Warren Oates, Isela Vega, Robert Webber, Gig Young, Emilio Fernandez, and Kris Kristofferson.
  • ed. Arrow Video

The picture absolutely takes a tonal shift after Oates finds Alfredo’s grave, digs him up, and takes his head. As soon as that happens, the journey takes an absolute nose dive. Oates, who started out as this apathetic and fashionably tacky sap, then becomes a steamroller that is fueled by anger and sorrow. He has nothing left to lose, and lets go of any fear that weighed him down prior, he carries Alfredo Garcia’s head in a burlap sack filled with dry ice, and kills anything that stands in his way. 

What started as what Bennie thought was a fast money job, evolves into a kinship between Bennie and Alfredo’s head. From the start Bennie knew that Alfredo had a relationship with his girlfriend. Whether he was a paying customer or not is a moot point, because Vega feels an absolutely fondness for Alfredo Garcia, which causes Bennie’s jealousy to erode to feeling a deep connection to Alfredo Garcia. Before the carnage of the third act begins, all that Bennie has left is Al’s head, and he is damn sure going to find out why all these people died just for Al’s head. 

BRING ME THE HEAD OF ALFREDO GARCIA showcases the best of 70s film. It was headlined by an unconventional leading man, conveyed society’s angst of 70s America, while also embracing the previous generations passing into society’s memory. The film is hard and mean, much like life, it isn’t fair and sometimes a shit hand gets dealt, but at the same time is beautiful and Peckinpah is here to say, ain’t life grand? 

Actor’s Spotlight: Nate’s Top Ten John Hurt Performances

by natewatchescoolmovies, posted in Film Review

John Hurt was recognizable, prolific, immensely talented, stage trained and an all round terrific artist. To me in observing his work I always saw a calculated, measured style, he never showboated or filled up the space in the extroverted sense but in that deep set gaze, his quietly intense eyes always found the core of whatever character he was bringing to life, not to mention that steady, delicate yet brittle speaking voice. Here are my top ten performances from this extraordinary actor!

10. Old Man Peanut in Malcolm Venville’s 44 Inch Chest

This is one of those hard boiled British gangster flicks with a weirdo edge that I can’t quite describe. Anyways, every character in the ensemble has an oddball quirk, Peanut’s being that he’s a near biblical level, savagely misogynistic, chauvinist piece of shit. It works for the role and the film and there’s nothing quite like seeing this good natured actor spout off sexist rhetoric like a teapot full of fire, brimstone and rancid piss.

9. Hrothgar in Howard McCain’s Outlander

A noble Viking king in times of great turmoil, Hrothgar and his people join forces with a strange being (Jim Caviesel) from a distant galaxy to fight off a nasty neon space dragon that followed him there. Hurt makes this guy a fair but pragmatic king who fights tooth an nail to protect his settlement from the creature.

8. John Merrick in David Lynch’s The Elephant Man

A gentle soul with an unfortunate facial disfigurement during a less enlightened time than we now live in, Hurt got an Oscar nomination for his compassionate, heartbreaking and researched role here.

7. S.R. Hadden in Robert Zemeckis’s Contact

I’m not a huge fan of this film overall but John is one of the factors that help it, playing an eccentric billionaire who secretly funds Jodie Foster’s search for alien life and when his cancer advances he just fucks off to space because the zero gravity helps his symptoms. It’s a sly encore supporting turn that undermines some of the more show-boaty performances (I’m looking at you McConaughey) with wit and genuine inspiration.

6. Jellon Lamb in John Hillcoat’s The Proposition

A cantankerous, half mad old British fuck marooned alone in the Australian outback, Jellon provides acidic, dark comic relief to this grim, no nonsense western when Guy Pearce’s stoic outlaw comes across his hovel in the middle of nowhere. After being told not to insult Irish people he promptly makes a potato peeling joke that causes Pearce to draw both guns, then swiftly talks the man down. Hurt was just so good at backhanded, knife-in-the-ribs dialogue like this.

5. Lawrence Fassett in Sam Peckinpah’s The Osterman Weekend

This is a near incomprehensible spy film with a terrific cast stuck in the world’s most over complicated plot, revolving around John’s rogue MI6 agent who is up to something, exactly what isn’t clear. He’s steely, cold and ruthless though as his intentions sort of become clear and his performance, calibrated just right, is the films strongest point.

4. John Schofield in Jim Jarmusch’s Dead Man

The most patronizing and sarcastic factory clerk in the old west, Schofield is personal assistant to Robert Mitchum’s thunderous metalworks tycoon and insults anyone who walks into his office with an attitude. Wry, thinly veiled cynicism play at the edges of his performance, and his semi-alarmed, morbidly curious expression when Mitchum barks at someone to shut up is just priceless. Also the fact that Jarmusch chose to cut to Hurt mid conversation when the scene didn’t really even have anything to do with him just cracks me up big time too.

3. Trevor ‘Broom’ Bruttenholm in Guillermo Del Toro’s Hellboy

“In the absence of light, darkness prevails.” I remember his words in the trailer for this film so clearly, his character is the perfect harbinger of paranormal events, mentor and surrogate father to Ron Perlman’s Red, classy gentleman of otherworldly knowledge and one of the last individuals standing between our world and oblivion.

2. Garrick Ollivander in Harry Potter

“The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter..”

His appearance in the Philosopher’s Stone as the placidly intense wand maker is a scene of terrific gravity that lulls both Harry and audience alike into a hypnotic place as he outlines important historical events. It was nice to see him again so many years later in The Deathly Hallows as well, still with a keen, observant edge.

1. Kane in Ridley Scott’s Alien

No other scene is as synonymous with cosmic dread as when we see that horrific little Xenomorph pup burst out of poor Kane’s chest at the dinner table. Hurt sells the scene with adept terror, wide eyed disbelief and heart stopping panic with his work. The fact that his fellow cast members weren’t aware of what was going to happen in the scene prior to shooting it just makes his performance ring all the more clear. An iconic moment, character and film.

-Nate Hill

Comedic Wizard, Hollywood Warrior: An Interview with Walter Olkewicz by Kent Hill

by Kent Hill, posted in Interviews

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Growing up I was a huge sword & sorcery fan . . . still am. The older one gets, you find yourself using the phrase, “they don’t make ’em like they used to,” more and more. In the case of sword & sorcery it is all too clear why it is sad, in some ways, to reminisce. But I can’t fully transmit to you in words, just how much the show Wizards & Warriors was then, and would later become, an integral influence. It took something with reasonably defined staples and subverted them in the best possible way.

This was part of the reason the more recent effort, Your Highness, was such a dismal failure. I admit I was hopeful all the way up to until I finally set eyes on the picture. Yes, it dealt irreverently with the source influences. But, ultimately forgot what made them so glorious in the first place. While Wizards & Warriors, on the other hand,  was so ahead of its time it’s ridiculous. Subverted genre work is more prevalent today, but back then, it was a bold choice. I soaked it up, and it quickly became the stuff of which permeated my dreams, dominated my day-long make-believe adventures and of course was a the well from which I have many times gone back to with my own works like Deathmaster, Sword Dude, and the like.

So you can, possibly, only imagine the joyous moment when I finally was able to chat with Prince Greystone’s faithful vassal Marko, played by the supremely talented Walter Olkewicz .

In Walter’s tales from his illustrious career I uncovered the story of an effortless performer, a loyal friend, a devoted family man, and a true inspiration to all those who have the dream of being a player of many parts.

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His credits speak for themselves, and I found it most intriguing, that a man who has known such heights could remain, I believe, as he has ever been – the salt of the earth. Walter has though, of late, been suffering with medical issues. It is comforting to hear however, that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Please do take a moment, if you can, to support his recovery, so that Walter can get back to doing what he does best. (Please follow this link: https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/help-walter-save-his-leg#/ )

Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m proud to present, Walter Olkewicz.

 

JACK DETH IS BACK . . . AND HE’S NEVER BEEN HERE BEFORE: An Interview with Tim Thomerson by Kent Hill

by Kent Hill, posted in Interviews

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I was mid-way through my interview with C. Courtney Joyner when Tim Thomerson’s name came up. Joyner of course, had directed Tim in Trancers 3, and cooler still, he had just had him round for breakfast earlier that day. You might call it an imposition, but I mentioned that if there was even a remote possibility that he could put me in touch with Tim, I would be forever grateful. Courtney told me he was seeing Tim again on the weekend and would put forward my proposition. Soon after, I received a message with a phone number.

Now, I’m usually in the habit of arranging an appropriate time and day to call, but Courtney had left it open. I remember for the first time, in a long time, being nervous to make the call. After all this was Tim Thomerson who was going to be picking up the phone; a guy, a legend that I had watched for years. So I summoned my moxy and dialled the number. The familiar international ring-cycle began and then . . . “Thomerson,” the voice on the other end of the line said.

METALSTORM: THE DESTRUCTION OF JARED-SYN, from left: Tim Thomerson, Jeffrey Byron, 1983. ©Universal Pictures

I’m going to come off as an idiot here, but I.D.G.A.R.A. “Damn,” I remember thinking. “He sounds exactly like he does in the movies.” Stupid, I’m well aware. But the moment was profound, and I was instantly transported to that time when I sat in the theatre watching Metalstorm, and that glorious afternoon I first sat down to watch Future Cop (aka Trancers). Here was Jack Deth now, on the end of the line and talking to me like we had been buddies since forever.

I did kinda wish we could have jumped into our chat right there. Tim was at once disarming, candid and as cool as i had expected him to be. He was off to his retreat in the desert to do “old man shit” as he put it, and, while I realize he is an aged gentleman now, that voice, the larger than life character that he is still packed all of the vitality, swagger and youthful exuberance that very much belies his years.

I didn’t have to wait long before we would talk again, and when we did, the conversation picked up right where it left off. I would take a significant amount of time to go through the length and breadth of his career, so I restricted myself to personal favourites among his credits. We talked about his beginnings, his great friendships, his bumping into Mel Gibson at the doctor’s office, him working with his idols, Australian Cinema and his meeting with the legend that was Sam Peckinpah.

For those of you who regularly check out my stuff here on the site (God bless you), I fear I might be starting to sound like a cracked record. A number of times in the past I have found myself gushing about the opportunities I have enjoyed whilst writing for PTS, and how humbled and indeed awe-struck I have been as a result of these encounters with the folks who make the movies. Sadly I’m now going to do it again. Tim Thomerson is a hero of mine and it was at once spellbinding and an indescribable treasure to have had the chance to shoot the breeze with an actor I have long held in high regard . . .

. . . and an equal pleasure it is, to now share it with you.

Enjoy.

20,000 Leagues of Cinema and Literature: An Interview with C. Courtney Joyner by Kent Hill

by Kent Hill, posted in Film Review

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C. Courtney Joyner is a successful writer/director/novelist. He was a zombie in a Romero movie, he hangs out with L.Q. Jones and Tim Thomerson, he was once roommates with Renny Harlin and made the breakfasts while Harlin got the girls. It makes me think of Steve Coogan’s line from Ruby Sparks, “how do I go back in time and be him.”

Truth is we are the same in many instances. We’re just on different sides of the globe and one of us is in the big leagues while the other is at the scratch and sniff end of the business. But we both love movies and fantastic adventures. We both wrote to the filmmakers we loved long before the director became celebrity. We both longed for more info from behind the scenes – long before such material was in abundance.

He grew up in Pittsburgh, the son of a doctor and a reporter. He came of age in the glory days of monster movies and adventure fiction. Then he headed west and after college it wasn’t long before his writing caught the attention of producers and thus a career was spawned.

Spending those early years working with Charles Band and his company, Empire, Joyner was prolific, and soon the writer became a director. All the while he was working on a dream project, a work we all have in us, that he was fighting to bring into the light.

It was a love of Jules Verne and the “what if” type scenario that gave birth to the early version of the story that would become his current masterwork Nemo Rising; a long-awaited sequel, if you will, to 20,000 Leagues under the Sea.

His story would go through several incarnations before finally reaching the form into which it has now solidified. Swirling around him were big blockbuster versions which never quite surfaced. Names like Fincher and Singer and stars like Will Smith were linked to these big dollar deals.

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Unfortunately even Joyner’s long-form TV version came close, but didn’t get handed a cigar. So at a friend’s insistence he wrote the book and his publisher, in spite of the property being linked at that time to a screen version that fell apart, agreed to still put the book out.

Thus Joyner’s Nemo has risen and at last we can, for now, revel in it’s existence. I believe it is only a matter of time before it shall acquire enough interest – and the new major playing field – the field of series television may yet be the staging ground for Courtney’s long-suffering tribute to the genius of Verne and the thrilling enigma of a character known as Captain Nemo.

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Long have I waited to chat with him and it was well worth the wait. So, here now I present my interview with the man that director Richard Lester (The Three Musketeers, Robin and Marion, Superman II)  once mistook for a girl that was eagerly interested in film.

Ladies and Gentlemen . . . C. Courtney Joyner.

 

Sam Peckinpah’s The Osterman Weekend 

by natewatchescoolmovies, posted in Film Review


-Nate Hill-
Sam Peckinpah’s The Osterman Weekend is so strangely plotted, so illogical and hard to understand, that not even John Hurt providing a play by play from an ever present tv monitor can seem to make sense of it. It’s not that it’s a bad film, parts are very well done and there’s that nostalgic Cold War vibe that 80’s espionage thrillers always have, it’s just that somewhere along the way, whether in the editing room, the shot list or scheduling, someone quite literally lost the plot. It’s enjoyable, well acted and supplies some of that classic Peckinpah grit he’s known for, but it’s just one massive loose thread that no one bothered to pull taut, which is a shame when you look at the talent involved. The film opens with the murder of a beautiful woman, the wife of a CIA spook (Hurt). Now, this inciting incident is what spurs on the rest of the plot, but the how and the why seem to be missing, and the matter of his wife doesn’t come into play again until all is almost said and done, and seems to have not a lot to do with the entire rest of the film. The bulk of it focuses on controversial talk show host John Tanner (Rutger Hauer), a man who lives to rub people the wrong way and put men of power on the spot with provocative, candid questions, all from the safety of his brightly lit studio. He’s forced to get his hands dirty though when Hurt contacts him, informing him that his three friends he’s planned to spend the weekend with (Craig T. Nelson, Dennis Hopper and a sleazy Chris Sarandon) are in fact soviet spies in hiding. Forced to bug his weekend home and play host to Hurt as he watches them all via hidden cameras, tensions arise as they try to smoke the three out and figure out… something. But what? It’s anyone’s guess what three potential traitors have to do with a murdered agent’s wife, and I’m sure the novel by Robert Ludlum on which this is based covers that a little more pointedly, but this film is just all over the place. It drags where it should glide, and skips hurriedly over scenes with potential to be great. Nevertheless, they achieved some level of class at least, with a crackling on-air conclusion that cathartically weeds out some corruption and provides almost a glimmer of an answer to what’s going on. There’s a fight scene between Nelson and Hauer that’s excellently choreographed, the performances are committed and engaging, and I’m always a sucker for cloak and dagger theatrics. But the thing just can’t seem to cohesively pull itself together and present a story that makes sense. It’s not even that it doesn’t make sense in a Tinker, Tailor, Soldier Spy sense, because I’m sure that if I sat down and watched that film like five times in a row, id get it, it has a plot buried under all of it. This one though, it’s like there’s pieces missing, and the ones that are left are either out of order, or from a different puzzle entirely. Close, but no cigar.