Comedy

A Guide for the Married Man (1967)

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Directed by dancin’ man Gene Kelly of all people, this must be the only movie in history built on the conundrum of where, when, why and how Walter Matthau should use his penis for evil.

As investment counselor Paul Manning, Matthau is happily, lovingly married to the beautiful blonde Ruth (Inger Stevens, Hang ‘Em High), but his best pal, smarmy lawyer Ed (Robert Morse, TV’s Mad Men), boasts about having his cake and eating it, too. Why, due to Ed’s continuous but well-concealed affairs, he claims he hasn’t been irritated by his wife in about six years! Ed promises to show Paul the ropes of the effective cheating process, and does, which makes up nearly all of A Guide for the Married Man.

Ed’s quite the font of knowledge when it comes to infidelity dos and don’ts. He has dozens of stories to share, which Kelly depicts via all-star vignettes. These feature such luminaries — or “technical advisors,” as they’re credited — as Jayne Mansfield, Sid Caesar, Lucille Ball, Carl Reiner, Linda Harrison, Jack Benny, Polly Bergen, Art Carney, Joey Bishop, Terry-Thomas and more. Whether within or outside of these It’s a Horny, Horny, Horny, Horny World mini-movies, almost every bedroom features separate beds, which seems awfully prudish for the time, yet plenty of bosomy babes in their undies (most notably Whatever Happened to Aunt Alice?‘s Claire Kelly and Diary of a Madman‘s Elaine Devry), which seems awfully raunchy for the time.

Only 1967 could get away with such an icky premise, by rendering it completely charming, yet still be funny and sexy. Then again, this being ’67, and Matthau being Matthau, you also know before The Turtles even finish singing the catchy theme song that he’s not about to make an odd coupling with anyone else but his loyal (if too subservient) Suzy Homemaker. To that end, Stevens is perfect casting as a doting dream wife: smart, sociable and absolute dynamite in a bikini. You know Guide is fiction because the film opens with her wanting it bad, but the only thing Matthau opts to bury is his big ol’ nose … in a book. —Rod Lott

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Horror

One Missed Call (2008)

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Arriving at the tail end of the Grudge/Ring string of Japanese-to-American horror films was One Missed Call, a Hollywood remake of a 2003 Asian film of the same name. By then, no one cared. They didn’t miss a thing.

The premise is that a college student receives a cellphone voicemail from his or her near-future self dying. (It even comes with its own ringtone!) Luckily, it’s stamped with the date and time, so he or she knows exactly how much time’s left on the clock. Then, as the imminent moment approaches, hallucinations of centipedes and Joker-faced people kick in. Death occurs, a piece of hard candy pops out of the corpse’s mouth (like a parting gift?), and someone in the freshly deceased’s contact list gets the next call.

So, yeah, it’s Final Destination with a family plan.

Since psych student Beth (Shannyn Sossamon, A Knight’s Tale) is rapidly losing friends to this accursed cellular scam, she teams up with a police detective (ol’ sandpaper throat Ed Burns, A Sound of Thunder) who lost his own sister in the same way to solve the mystery before they, too, get One Missed Call.

The characters in this stupid movie are stupid, so at least consistency is in place. In an effort to stay alive, they remove their batteries and they smash their devices. In fact, they do everything but the obvious: Cancel their contract or, if their carrier prohibited such a thing, change their damn phone number.

Equally dumb in French director Eric Valette’s film is the expected not-an-ending ending, which counted upon it being successful enough to merit sequels, as the Japanese original did. I, for one, am glad the Call was terminated here. —Rod Lott

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Sci-Fi & Fantasy

Project X (1968)

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Not to be confused with the forgettable Matthew Broderick/monkey team-up of the ’80s or the insipid teenagers’ apoca-party flick, this Project X is one of William Castle’s lesser-known pictures, likely because it’s neither gimmicky nor Rosemary’s Baby. It deserves not to be so obscure; far more eyes should feast upon this imaginative mix of The Matrix and Fantastic Voyage than just me and the Wachowski siblings (formerly known as the Wachowski brothers).

Set in 2118, the film posits the difficulty of retrieving a top-secret piece of info from the brain on a felled spy (Christopher George, Pieces) four days after he’s been frozen following a near-fatal plane crash. His last message to HQ warned that their country would be destroyed in 14 days, but failed to mention the weapon at play. To do this requires imprinting a new matrix (in other words, an entirely new identity and personality) as they probe his subconscious and pray his doesn’t notice or suffer brain damage.

They decide to make him part of a post-heist gang of bank robbers hiding out in a farmhouse in the 1960s. Their manipulation efforts include a dumb, beautiful blonde (Greta Baldwin), but the lost spy (Monte Markham, Guns of the Magnificent Seven) infiltrating the grounds isn’t part of their plan.

There’s a lot of Cold War paranoia going on here, but Castle does his best to dress it up as sci-fi entertainment, lest risk scaring audiences away. Despite a cast heavy with old fogies in jumpsuits and Brylcreem hairdos, he succeeds in crafting something resembling cutting-edge at his budgetary level. Production design is outstanding, even in its now-dated touches, and going further are the “special sequences by” producers William Hanna and Joseph Barbera — yes, the animation giants, and this has to be the funkiest, hippest work of their careers. For Castle, Project X is his meatiest in subject matter; once his Tetris opening credits stop, the Big Ideas begin. —Rod Lott

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Documentary

Eurocrime! The Italian Cop and Gangster Films That Ruled the ’70s (2012)

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Italy has America to thank for inspiring the subgenre known as Eurocrime, and we have director Mike Malloy to thank for compiling the definitive feature-length documentary on its origins, heyday and legacy in Eurocrime! The Italian Cop and Gangster Films That Ruled the ’70s. The exclamation point in the title is well-earned, as I didn’t want this work to end so soon. (It breaks the two-hour mark.)

As the prologue notes, the Italian film industry thrived by copying what worked in the U.S., from sword-and-sandal and spies to horror and Westerns. Stateside success of The Godfather and The French Connection quickly beget the poliziotteschi: in simple terms, the police film, but with insanely rushed production schedules that emphasized quantity over quality, and story elements that pushed the limits of sex and violence — exactly why so many Eurocrime pictures are so beloved today.

While Malloy’s doc oozes credibility in its many interviews of principal players from both sides of the camera (among them, John Saxon, Chris Mitchum, Fred Williamson, Franco Nero, Henry Silva, Joe Dallesandro and an arrogant Antonio Sabato), it’s the multitude of clips that makes Eurocrime! a blast to watch. The more extreme the movies got, the better, with neither children nor pets spared. You’ll witness montages of not just the standard chase scenes and bloody shootouts, but urine torture, genital attacks, tranny fights and junkyard tussles. Particular attention is paid to Jean-Paul Belmondo, who insisted on doing his own stunts. From all evidence, I can see why Jackie Chan was inspired by him, but not how he survived all that on-set self-abuse.

Both Malloy’s objectivity and passion drive Eurocrime! to greatness; he neither looks down on his subject nor exaggerates its importance. Adding to the fun are brief animated sequences and an absolutely kick-ass soundtrack featuring the music of Calibro 35, Glows in the Dark and others. This joyous work of dangerous cinema is destined to please the movement’s fans and convert everyone else. —Rod Lott

Learn more at its official site.

Action

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1990)

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Bringing the comic-book and cartoon characters to live action, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is more charming than a children’s film about talking, radioactive reptiles has any right to be. Oh, it’s still not very good, but its ‘tude could account for why the movie became (until The Blair Witch Project hit) the highest-grossing indie in cinema history. (Up yours, Kurosawa!)

Or maybe it’s because when it comes to denying their kids’ demands to pay to see mediocrity, parents have no backbone.

New York City is deep in a crime wave — good thing this is fiction! — cresting on an increasing series of thefts with no witnesses. Hot on the story is WTRL-TV news reporter April O’Neil (Judith Hoag, I Am Number Four), a curly ginger whom the turtles save from a mugging. She learns that a band of ninjas from Japan is to blame for the stolen goods, and the four turtles help her shut ’em down.

The turtles live in the sewers (no one smells this) with their Asian mentor, a wizened rat named Splinter (voiced by Kevin Clash, aka Sesame Street‘s Elmo) who’s instructed them in the ways of martial arts before he’s kidnapped by the ninjas. He also named them after famous painters, but the hell if I can tell them apart. Color their headbands whatever, but since they all crave pizza and crack groaning puns, they’re indistinguishable to me, aside from whichever one Corey Feldman voices.

Everything out of their mouths is as dumb as the entire concept reads on paper. As a comedy, TMNT is a failure; as action, it’s okay. While loud and senseless, it also manages to be boring and, per director Steve Barron (Coneheads), a little dark — just not dark enough to temper the ill elements, such as the laughable miscasting of Elias Koteas (Shutter Island) as April’s long-haired love interest and the turtles’ hockey stick-wielding accomplice. The best thing about TMNT is the animatronic work by Jim Henson’s Creature Shop, but even the worst Muppets movie is better than this by bounds. —Rod Lott

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