Radio Days is Woody Allen's loving and deeply moving tribute to the dramatic importance of the radio in his childhood. The film is narrated by Woody, and structured as a series of vignettes about radio celebrities and anecdotes about growing up in the radio era, with Woody's childhood stand-in (a very young Seth Green) and his extended family at the center. This is an extremely warm film from Woody, balancing poignant reminiscence with a distance and humor that keeps it from becoming too sentimental. The opening scene, in which two burglars find themselves as contestants on a radio show in the midst of a robbery, sets the tone of gentle absurdity that winds through the film. Mia Farrow gives a great performance as the wannabe star Sally, with a thick and squealing "New Yawk" accent.
Radio Days looks at the past through the filters of nostalgia and imagination, looking at the world as it was from a child's eye view. It's a world where German submarines cruise just offshore, the sexy substitute teacher dances naked in her window, and mob hitmen turn witnesses into radio stars instead of whacking them. There's so much going on here that it all flies by in a dizzying whirl, a 90-minute trip into an imaginary past and a visit with its wild denizens. When the final scene, the delirious New Year's bash on the roof of a Manhattan club, finally closes on the empty roof and a few stray snowflakes falling, it produces a simultaneous feeling of satisfaction and sadness over the loss of this bygone era and all it represented.
This is a superb series, it was recommended to me by a friend, it was shown in the US but wasn't a great hit over there so only did 2 series, such a shame. However, it is about how opressive the US was in the 1930's so maybe they don't like the truth. I don't think it was ever aired in the UK. I loved it. It is a great story and completely compelling, it tells of the lives of a travelling carnival folk, it is also about good and evil. It is addictive and you can't just watch one episode.
Master dramatist Ken Loach's first feature after 'The Wind That Shakes The Barley' took top prize at Cannes: 'It's A Free World...' is an excellent, complex and timely look at Eastern European immigration to Britain. At first glance, it would appear that the only way to address such an issue on film, is to either portray Polish immigrants as oppressed, heroic martyrs or aggressive, freeloading scum, needless to say; neither approach would do the subject justice; and though its' set almost entirely in London, screenwriter Paul Laverty isn't afraid to look at the bigger picture; cleverly presenting the dilemma from a global, as opposed to nationalist, perspective.
'It's a Free World...' sees 34-year-old target driven recruitment consultant Angie (Kierston Wareing) successfully dispatch Pole after Pole to England for work, the absurdity of it all briefly glimpsed as she reads off a corporate mandate suggesting wholly inappropriate alternative professions for the eager economic migrants. Now we've all met an Angie in our time: an archetypal Essex girl and single mum, her loud, loose and feisty demeanour as familiar a British cliché as football hooligans, fish & chips or walking the dog. Newcomer Kierston Wareing does well to convey Angie's often paradoxical actions, and shows how an injustice done to her (she's sacked after an altercation with drunken colleagues and her lecherous boss) triggers an almost subliminal ideological reaction; one that genuinely makes her believe in the justification for her switch from working class heroine, to exploitative superbitch / administrational gang master. Angie and her flatmate Juliet Ellis are quick to spot a niche in the market, and begin scouting Poles into jobs by the dozen; illegal immigrants picked up outside pubs and off the streets are put to work with the girls making a tidy profit along the way, it is, in many respects, the realisation of Dave Moss's plan to emulate Gerry Graff and get the good leads in 'Glengarry / Glenross'. But cutting corners soon puts their business in jeopardy, and in spite of her friends pleas to call it quits, Angie gets in way over her head and its not long before she's facing a full scale revolt better suited to the islander slaves from 'Burn!' or the worker's wrath that befell Brigitte Helm's Robot Maria in 'Metropolis'.
Kierston Wareing is an expressive and charismatic young actress, some would even go so far as to use the trite term 'blonde bombshell', and though she might well be suited to something a little more glamorous in the future, Wareing retains an everywoman look about her, in much the same way as a dishevelled Juliet Binnoche or Robin Wright Penn can hold an audience with their ability to create believable characters on screen. Wareing gives it her all in a fearless performance which rightly saw her nominated at Venice, its difficult to say whether we"ll see or hear from her again, but as far this picture goes; she does an incredible job creating one the most memorable female anti-heroes since Robin Wright Penn in 'Sorry, Haters'.
Watching this film, one can't help but lament the monumental failure of the capitalist system as it exits today, for Loach convincingly portrayals this monstrous mechanism at work: An insatiable, unstable and ultimately unsustainable entity, which needs a slave labour force to suppress proletarian internationalism, keep down costs & boost the economy, and in that respect; Angie isn't a villain at all, in fact, she's just doing what anyone raised in this system would do. There was a hint at a similar argument in Stephen Marshall's 'This Revolution', where Marshall's character casts doubt over anti-globalisation protestor Rosario Dawson's militant ideology, questioning whether she'd have the courage of her convictions to fight the inequities of the system if it began to serve her basic needs. Italian despot Benito Mussolini once defined fascism as "...the collusion between corporations and the state" thus we have Globalisation using our economic intuitions, entwined within the political framework of the so-called international community, to engineer and exacerbate conditions which give rise to socio-political inequity, thus widening the gap between rich & poor. Angie is simply a product of her environment, a model citizen in an externally enforced socio-economic world order, and that's the genius of Ken Loach; for just when you think you've a got a handle on how he works, Ken throws a wrongun and puts a whole new spin on things e.g. Angie's father, initially portrayed as hostile towards the Polish "occasionals", he manages to put this argument into perspective with an insightful comment about how "one more cheap plumber in Britain, means one less good doctor in Poland", and thus we realise that its his 'Trade Union' past speaking, trying to be a heard over the din in an abyss of a new-old world that knows next to nothing about internationalism, solidarity or worker's rights. 'It's A Free World...' is one of the director's best, and should be seen by all fans of serious cinema.
this film is fabulous as great as sin city if not better i am quite a big fan of gory and blood thirsty films but this one takes the biscuit. Gerard Butler plays his role very well and so do his co stars (Lena Headey, Dominic West and Zach Snyder)
this film as as good as Frank Miller and Lynn Varley's graphic novel
Taking a trip back to the 60s where its short tousers for the boys pretty dresses for the girls , born and bread is funny sad so true of the 60s where men were men and the women had loads of kids ,micheal french and james bolan are perfect as sparring father and son . here's hoping they make a series 5 cant wait.
Highly entertaining, supercharged political thriller which sees ex-army sniper Bob Lee Swagger (Mark Whalberg) framed as a patsy in an assassination / government conspiracy involving the cover up of U.S. genocides in Africa. 'Shooter' begins quite unpromisingly with some hackneyed heroics played out with sledgehammer subtly, and even when our man is left behind to die, the story seems to slow down as we fade to the present day and see Swagger duped & recruited to do his 'patriotic duty' by a shady quartet of government villains, led by the Colin Powell-esque Colonel Isaac Johnson (Danny Glover successfully playing against type). But what begins as your run-of-the-mill 'Save The President' scenario soon matures into a well paced, and surprisingly well-informed indictment of the evil corporate cabals who run congress. Antoine Fuqa also scores a much needed hit with 'Shooter', for the young director, whose movie career began with a bang after 'The Replacement Killers' and 'Training Day', yet soon fizzled out with 'King Arthur' and risible, pro-military flag waver 'Tears Of Sun', keeps his penchant for 'God Bless America' sentiment down to a minimum. And whilst there is an odd bit of 1950s style propaganda about a sniper KIA, the film itself is sober, direct and firmly rooted in reality, albeit a reality in which we accept the fact that Mark 'Don't Call Him Marky Mark' Whalberg and his mate can wipe out a small army (in a spectacular compound siege sequence) and having trounced a CIA death squad have Swagger come up with the line: "You don't understand; these boys killed my dog" without so much as a smirk. 'Shooter' has plenty of clichés, and though I haven't read any of Stephen Hunter's Bob Lee Swagger books and nor do I have an interest in the mechanics of military hardware/sniping, I'm told 'Shooter' is a decent, though obviously updated, adaptation of his novel 'Point Of Impact". And based on the strength of this picture, I look forward to the continuing adventures of Swagger who, if handled with competence, could be to 'Ex-Military-Man-On-A-Mission' movies, what Jason Bourne became to the spy genre. Mark Whalberg puts in a cool, unsmiling performance as Swagger, Michael Peña also does well as the anxious FBI man who joins him, newcomer Kate Mara is OK, it was nice to see ex-Brit TV presenter Rhona Mitra crop up, Rade Serbedzija is excellent as usual, Elias Koteas is wasted in a henchman role whilst Ned Beatty does his best Dick Cheney impression, as an odious U.S. senator directing the conspiracy.
Its been a while since Hollywood produced a well structured, story driven action film that 'Shooter' pretty much corners the market, and though it appears as if they filmed multiple endings (deciding to go with 'Rambo' ending) its all done with such verve and narrative momentum, that one can't help but have a blast watching it; better than an entire season of '24' and far more complex and rewarding than any recent action movie I can think of. A thinking man's 'Die Hard', 'Shooter' has its target in sight, aims high and frequently hits the mark, so forget King Leonidas and all those '300' quotes, put Bob Lee Swagger on your novelty T-Shirts, for once you've seen this film: "Hit The Napalm" will have a whole new meaning.
Orson Welles' The Lady From Shanghai is a rough, freewheeling noir enhanced by Welles' usual visual brilliance. It follows Michael O'Hara, an Irish seaman, petty criminal, and aspiring novelist, played by Welles himself with a thick brogue and his characteristic intensity. O'Hara meets the beautiful young Elsa (Rita Hayworth) in a park, and soon finds himself working on her lawyer husband's yacht while romancing her and getting dragged reluctantly into a shadowy murder/insurance plot. The film is loaded with twists and double crosses, but ultimately Welles seems unconcerned about the mechanics of the plot, and the rapid pace gives the film a drive and intensity that makes narrative explication redundant. The film crackles with raw energy and really lights up for the shadowy scenes where Welles takes advantage of the noir style to the greatest effect. The scene where O'Hara describes a shark feeding frenzy to his employer and his cronies, with all the metaphorical implications bubbling underneath, is a perfect example of what's best in Welles' noirs.
If Welles seems in a rush to get through the obligatory plot points, it becomes apparent why when the ending comes. The funhouse showdown which ends the film is certainly among the most mind-boggling avant-garde sequences ever shown in a Hollywood cinema. Throughout this scene, the screen is broken down and chopped by myriad mirrors which multiply each character in numerous fragmented images. Welles is really playing here, letting close-ups overlap with multiple long shots and breaking the screen down into long vertical segments in which the characters try to face each other. For a film in which twists and betrayals are the norm, it's the perfect ending, a showdown in which nobody is even sure where their enemy is. It's a wonderfully disorienting scene, visually stunning, at times even almost abstract in its effects. It's a remarkable conclusion to a fun and always intriguing noir.
Really enjoyed the work out. Finding new ideas on how to use the gymball i have had pilates dvds before but this one is the best i have tried. The work out is very well explained
Fellini's Amarcord is a late masterpiece from this director who excelled at translating the figments of his imagination onto the screen. Nowhere is that more apparent than here, in which the entire film is a loosely connected series of vignettes presenting an extremely exaggerated, phantasmagoric image of Fellini's memories of his childhood home town of Rimini. This is a continuation of the kind of circus atmosphere that proliferated throughout 8 1/2, except in that case the circus revolved around one central figure, the frustrated director played by Marcello Mastroianni. Here, there is no such central character; the town itself is the main character. The story, such as it is, is just the passing of a year in the town's life, following the change of the season and relating anecdotes about many of the residents. The film both opens and closes with the swirling of the "lemone," the yellow wisps which for this town signal the end of winter and the onset of spring. In between, all sorts of things happen, and things change, but there's not a real sense of narrative; it's all just part of the fabric of the town's life.
Even more so than in any of his earlier films, everything here is subsumed by the swirling circus atmosphere, with Nino Rota's bouncy score driving along scenes of chaotic celebration and angry arguments alike. Even a ritualistic fascist rally, complete with a giant Mussolini head made of flowers, is filmed with the same over-the-top energy and vitality, demonstrating how easily the townspeople's vibrant personalities could be absorbed by the Mussolini machine. The fascists provide an ugly underbelly to the film as a whole, especially in a chillingly underplayed scene in which they force a local socialist-sympathizer to drink castor oil, a common punishment doled out by Italian fascists. Their malevolent presence in the town is an occasional chill wind through the otherwise pristine village of Fellini's reminiscences. In many ways, this is a true Fellini primer. All of his sexual obsessions are on display here, exaggerated to mammoth proportions. There's Volpina, the ridiculously over-acted local tramp who seems to exude animal sexuality from her every moment. There's also the wonderfully hilarious scene in which the young boy Titta receives his sexual initiation with the buxom grocery store woman, who bares her massive breasts for him. For Fellini, childhood is a garbled mix of sexual obsessions, school pranks, eccentric grown-ups looming large, and the occasional numbing censure of religion or discipline-minded adults. His gift is transforming the hazy, time-distorted memory of these things into a sublime, ecstatic celebration of all the little moments of life, transformed by reminiscence into events of epic importance.
Hannah and Her Sisters is perhaps Woody Allen's warmest film, an astonishingly vital, expressive, and upbeat work from a director notoriously infected by pessimism. This is, in addition to being Woody's warmest work, his most literary work. Its structure divides the episodic story into chapters -- complete with introductory headings -- which follow one or two characters before skipping on to a new chapter and a new character. This was Woody's largest ensemble cast to date, and he assembled some stellar actors to populate it with. Mia Farrow, of course, is still Woody's leading lady, though despite playing the title character, Hannah, she's mostly sidelined here. Her character is a quiet central presence in the story, as she is in the lives of her two sisters, Holly (Diane Wiest) and Lee (Barbara Hershey). Farrow plays Hannah with a gentle but slightly awkward assuredness that is endearing but also distancing. Tellingly, she is the only major character whose head we never get inside; Woody gives all the other characters periodic internal monologues and glimpses into their thoughts, but Hannah remains always serenely apart.
Michael Caine, as Hannah's husband, lusts after her sister Lee, and strikes up a passionate affair with her only to realize he still loves his wife. Lee is dreadfully unhappy in her long-term relationship with the dour artist Frederick (played with world-weary gloom by Max von Sydow). Holly drifts from one unsuccessful project to the next, constantly borrowing money from Hannah and never finding any luck with men. Wiest is phenomenal here, investing this role with an energy, sweetness, and well-hidden sadness that makes the film practically radiate every time she's on-screen. And Hannah's ex-husband, played by Woody, gets some of the film's best comic relief moments as a chronic hypochondriac who finally gets a scare when the doctors tell him he might actually be right this time. Woody expertly weaves this large cast into a dazzling story, confidently interweaving the disparate threads as if he'd always been handling such large casts and complex plotting. As always, he's concerned with mortality, relationships, meaning, and art, but this is perhaps his subtlest and most understated treatment of such themes. This is yet another remarkable pinnacle to Woody's 70s and 80s career.
Buffalo Bill and the Indians is director Robert Altman's dead-on satire of the entertainment industry, especially the way in which show business can gobble up real events and spit out entirely new versions of them which will be swallowed whole by audiences. Altman demythologizes his title character, presenting him as a simple and unexceptional man inflated to far above his natural state, to a level of expectations he could never hope to meet. Paul Newman does a tremendous job as Buffalo Bill, and as the film goes on and the legend begins to deflate, Newman allows more and more of the man beneath to show through. This culminates in a stunning scene in which a drunk and hallucinating Newman imagines a conversation with the Indian chief Sitting Bull. By this point, the legend has completely fallen away and the man himself is stripped bare; you can see Bill trying to rebuild his myth completely from scratch, pausing, stumbling, rewriting his own script on the fly. Buffalo Bill is also Altman's wry commentary on America's own mythologizing history. As Sitting Bull says at one point, "history is just disrespect for the dead." The film's central premise involves Bill recruiting the famous chief for his Wild West show, but when Sitting Bull arrives, he refuses to participate in any of the canned acts, in which cowardly and sneaky Indians are routed by brave cowboys. Instead, the chief proposes a new performance, in which the unarmed Indians welcome the white men, trade with them, agree to peace, and then are promptly slaughtered. Altman's film is a real marvel, something of a forgotten masterpiece buried amid a string of such amazing films in the 70s. Though the film's central focus is clearly on Buffalo Bill and Sitting Bull, the sidelines are packed with the distinctive large Altman ensemble, all turning in great performances and getting some choice gags and scenes of their own. Geraldine Chaplin is perfect as Annie Oakley, Joel Grey gets another choice role, as the promoter who's constantly inventing his own words, and a young Harvey Keitel shines as Bill's eager nephew. This is one of Altman's best and most complex films, from a decade in his career which spawned an inordinate number of masterpieces.
The Purple Rose of Cairo is one of Woody Allen's most dazzling comedic fantasies, on the surface a light and fluid fantasia of dream and imagination, and yet its heart is hard as stone and its message is pure Allen pragmatism. Mia Farrow is great as ever as the shy dreamer Cecilia, who at the height of the Depression is trapped in a loveless and abusive marriage and a dead-end job as a waitress. To escape this suffocating reality, she takes in a movie every day, getting lost in the lush Hollywood fantasies playing at the local theater, taking in a film every day. This dull routine comes to an end when, absurdly, one of the characters in the latest film, The Purple Rose of Cairo, notices Cecilia's dedication to film-going and steps out of the screen to meet her. Typically, Woody handles this moment with utter deadpan humor -- the movie patrons shriek and faint, Cecilia is stunned but kind of charmed, and the other characters in the film are outraged that the plot has ground to a halt. It's all put together to give the scene a kind of oddball reality and matter-of-factness that grounds the experience in Cecilia's romantic perceptions.
Ultimately, the film examines the nature of fantasy and reality, the connections between them, and the importance of choosing reality no matter how harsh the consequences. Cecilia is a basically good person, but her avoidance of reality keeps her locked utterly in her rut. When Tom Baxter (played admirably by Jeff Bridges) steps off the screen to woo her, she's swept up in the fantasy and romance of it all, so that her life becomes a wonderful continuation of her cinematic fantasies. She even goes so far as to step into the screen with Tom, in a wonderful series of scenes which evoke the feel of a genuine 20s/30s glamour film. But while Tom is romancing her, the real-life actor who played him, Gil Shepherd, is also vying for Cecilia's attention, even as he tries to get his doppelganger back onto the screen where he belongs. In the end, Cecilia is forced to choose between Tom and Gil, as though between fantasy and reality -- although, really, her image of Gil is so wound up with ideas of Hollywood ritz and glamour that even this reality is tinged heavily with fantasy. For Cecilia, even reality has something of the movies about it. In examining the ways in which we all retreat into our imaginations, Woody has made a movie of delirious fantasy that simultaneously deflates such fantasies. This is a complex and wonderful film, and its multiple layers of fantasy and reality are handled deftly by a director at the absolute top of his form.
Broadway Danny Rose is a nostalgic look back at the golden days of New York variety acts, with Woody Allen in the title role as a talent agent who specializes in the most marginal, strange, and washed-up acts around. To enhance the feel of nostalgia, not only is the film shot in black and white, like many of Allen's films from this period, but the story of Danny Rose is told as a series of reminiscences and funny stories by a group of comics hanging out in New York's famous Carnegie Deli. The main story concerns the Italian singer Lou Canova (the real lounge singer Nick Apollo Forte, who had never acted before) and his gangster moll, Tina (Mia Farrow). On a crucial night for Lou's slowly improving career, Danny has to go pick up Tina and spend the night pretending to be her date for the benefit of Lou's wife. Instead, Danny gets sucked into an increasingly wild series of adventures with Tina, with the mob hot on their trail the whole time. It's a lot of fun, and Woody milks as much humor as he can from his over-the-top stereotypes of Italian mob families. The broad humor of these stereotypes is balanced by some of Woody's most sensitive, complicated characterizations -- the relationship between his character and Mia Farrow's Tina is sweet, funny, and simultaneously both totally improbable and (because of the sensitivity of the leads' performances) totally believable. Farrow is in rare form here, in a part most people never would have believed her capable of playing. Her Tina is crude, temperamental, spontaneous, funny, tough, and surprisingly intelligent behind her huge ever-present sunglasses and poofed hair. Woody is fantastic as well, exaggerating his own already exaggerated mannerisms for the portrait of fast-talking agent Danny Rose. The black and white NYC cinematography is gorgeous throughout, and there are several stellar scenes that will likely stick in the memory forever. The Thanksgiving dinner at the end of the film is foremost among these, and the atmosphere of the comics discussing old times at Carnegie Deli. Less poignant, but much funnier, is the chase scene through a warehouse filled with parade floats, which halfway through turns from suspense to farce with an entirely unexpected and hilarious twist. Broadway Danny Rose is a masterpiece in Allen's career, and it belongs in the company of his other bittersweet, nostalgic masterworks like Annie Hall and Manhattan.
I didn't know what to expect when I first saw "Haxan". Its a silent documentary (kind of) on witchcraft which compares the phenomemon of witches and witch hunts to that of hysteria in the 1920s - the film was made in 1922. Although it starts off in a more straight-laced documentary fashion, showing historical illustrations of witches and other occult instances from as far back as the pharoahs egypt, the film soon veers into reconstructing the events with which it is most concerned - possession and interrogation, for example. It dramatizes medieval women making medicine, satanic rituals, a convent of possessed nuns dancing and kissing the devil's posterior. The director even jokes about the terrible confessions he managed to wring from one of his young actresses with a set of thumb-screws, the least of the torture devices explained in the film. "Haxan" then goes onto make a number of interesting points about how the fears and anxieties that led to witches and their persecution and those that lead to nervous breakdown and persecution of young women in the early twentieth-century reflect each other. To me, and I hope I don't sound too patronising, a number of the films arguments in this vein seem quite sophisticated for a film-maker to be making in 1922. The film and its director received belated fame after its re-release in 1941, something that seems to support this, and that it was way ahead of its time, in style and subject.
The film is funny, intelligent and interesting: well worth watching.
And this DVD edition includes two versions of the film: a time-corrected, clour-tinted, swedish version and a 1968, black and white re-release of the film narrated by William Burroughs and titled "Witchcraft Through the Ages". Both versions looked great on my TV.
Rome series 1 and 2 are FANTASTIC. Both series offer an extremely vivid and graphic insight into roman history. Both series are also complimented by very strong performances from all the actors involved. If you are looking for a series that has everything in it then this would be an ideal purchase, but be warned that it is extremely graphic and therefore may not be suitable to those of a squeemish disposition.
A good comic book hero film, that displays excellent special effects, but suffers from poor casting as Nicholas Cage clearly far too old for this type of role. Sam Elliott is the exception to this who delivers yet again on the type of performance we have all come to expect of him.
Much better than the book!! In this encounter Harry is older and wiser - the formation of Dumbledores army and the length that Harry and friends go to track down Voldemort is brilliant. Also the scene when Harry sees into Snape's past is priceless. Not to be Missed and a must for any Harry Potter fan!!
Bottle Rocket is an excellent first feature from director Wes Anderson (who would go on to direct Rushmore, The Royal Tenenbaums and The Life Aquatic) and firmly established him as the master of the quirky, understated, comedy. In a further notable 'first', Bottle Rocket also marks the feature film debut of brothers (and now regular Anderson collaborators) Owen and Luke Wilson, who both give performances that helped to firmly establish them among the greatest comedy actors of recent times. Luke Wilson plays newly released mental patient Anthony while Owen Wilson is Anthony's best friend Dignan. Once reunited in a non-instituational setting, Anthony and Dignan quickly fall back into their old ways of petty thievery and absurb heists, knocking off everything from meat packing plants to bookshops. Realising that they're never going to be taken seriously as criminals while they have to rely on public transport, Anthony and Dignan recruit Bob Mapplethorpe (played by Robert Musgrave) to be their getaway driver. After the affair at the bookshop, the hapless trio are forced to flee across the state and hide out in a motel where they encounter Inez, a non-English speaking maid who Anthony promptly falls in love with. Eventually the meat packing plant proves to be a caper too far and the motley gang of would-be criminals are forced to decide who makes a final getaway and who must stay to face the music. Although perhaps the least well known of Anderson's films, Bottle Rocket is quirky comedy at its best and cannot be recommended enough.
This movie takes me back to my childhood, sneaking out of bed and downstairs to watch the forbidden horror flick form behind the couch. The reason for my continuous admiration for this film is its attempt at monster genealogy. It attempts to explain what would happen if monsters crossbred, what would their offspring be and what would they be capable of. The predecessors of this amicus production were admittedly more frightening and this, their last attempt at horror that marks the end of an era.
The film opens on a dark deserted street where an author Chetwynd-Hayes (John Carradine parodying the actual writer of the book) is approached and asked for sustenance by a very famished stranger. The stranger is Erasmus (Vincent Price, in a very rare appearance as a vampire). On realizing that he has fed upon a man he has much admiration for, Erasmus tries to make amends to the author by inviting him to an exclusive club.
What follows is a trio of monstrous tales of woe intersected by musical numbers; most memorable was "the stripper" by Night.
The dancer that accompanies the song does indeed strip, but bearing in mind the venue is a monster club she doesn"t stop at her clothes.
This film entertained back in the eighties and now seems dated compared to the horror genre of today, but when you view the movie both the actors and director"s tongues seemed to be well in their cheeks.
The director Roy Ward Baker had a few horror flicks for Hammer and Amicus under his belt before tackling the monster club and the general feeling of the film was that this is not a serious horror, especially when Vincent Price hits the dance floor.
A small piece of trivia:: in the monster club one of the masks used was also seen in star wars. When Ben arranged transport with Han in The Mos Eisley Cantina.
Its great for the kids, i even enjoyed it and im 37
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