Tim Salmons

The ultimate fate of 1969’s The Italian Job was to be considered one of the greatest British films ever made, in any genre and from any period. Poorly marketed in the US at the time of its release, it was a bust upon arrival here while, unsurprisingly, it was a much more successful film in its native land. While it’s thought of today as among one of many feathers in the cap of Michael Caine, it’s also of the finest heist movies ever to cross American shores or elsewhere. Its cult status has improved with age, especially the US, and holds up tremendously as a (mostly) straightforward piece of action/adventure escapism, with a fabulously dry British wit to match.

Needless to say, it was one of the biggest blockbuster movie seasons of all time, and we’ve barely even scratched the surface. Any chance that a small-time, B-grade film might have had at any kind of a box office life during that timeframe wasn’t very likely. Although it eventually made its budget back with a tiny bit to spare, “Weird” Al Yankovic’s zany spoof comedy UHF seemed destined to be a cult movie anyway, even if it hadn’t been released during that summer.

For filmmakers, it must be difficult to imagine helming a piece of work that doesn’t just simply create controversy, but destroys their careers entirely in their home country. Such was the case for Michael Powell. He and Emeric Pressburger, known collectively as “The Archers,” had made names for themselves in the United Kingdom with films like The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp, The Red Shoes, and Black Narcisuss—later considered by many to be among the UK’s greatest and most respected filmmakers. Over time, their paths diverged as the rate and success of their collaborative efforts was not what it once was. Powell continued to direct, but none of his works were considered more contentious than 1960’s Peeping Tom. The film’s subject matter and its execution received an appallingly vitriolic reaction from British film critics, eventually forcing Powell to leave Britain in order to continue working, though never fully recovering from it.

During the main producorial phase of his career, Dario Argento was branding several films with his name. In some cases, many folks didn’t realize that he didn’t actually direct the films that his name was attached to for marketing purposes. Such was the case with 1985’s Demons (aka Demoni), directed by Lamberto Bava. Many of Italy’s top genre filmmakers, including Argento, were involved in the film, which features over-the-top violence and gore, beautifully-designed sets, bold lighting, a hard-driving rock and roll and synth-laden soundtrack, and surprisingly highbrow thematic material. Thanks to its frequent availability on home video over the years, Demons, as well as its sequel, continue to thrive as genre fan favorites.

Looking past the fact that Bwana Devil was the first full-length 3D motion picture ever released, it’s also a film that’s mostly been unavailable to be seen legally, especially in its native 3D format. It was created for the sole purpose of utilizing a new piece of filmmaking technology, the Natural Vision 3-Dimension motion picture camera system, and its eventual success led the studios into the 3D boom of the 1950s, proving that stereo was appealing to audiences outside of still photos.

A major success in its home country, JSA: Joint Security Area identified director Park Chan-wook as a cinematic force to be reckoned with. Slick, stylistic, and effective, JSA plays out as a sociopolitical mystery thriller, but on a very human level—highlighting the division between North and South Korea through four characters. The film was so successful, even outgrossing the monster that was Titanic, that it spawned stage musical and TV miniseries adaptations. In North America, Park Chan-wook’s name became more associated with the “Tartan Asia Extreme” series due to the violent nature of The Vengeance Trilogy (Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, Oldboy, and Lady Vengeance), and later 2013’s Stoker, meaning that JSA was and continues to be underappreciated as a meditation on the effects of war on four young men who manage to put aside their differences, not only to find common ground, but friendship as well.

The Addams Family has been a mainstay in popular culture for decades, beginning with the original Charles Addams cartoons, continuing with the iconic 1960s TV series, moving forward with the mostly forgotten 1973 animated series, and more or less halting as a franchise in the 1990s with the live action films. 2019’s The Addams Family welcomes the creepy and kooky family into the feature-length animated world for the first time, but with mixed results.

The Italian action and crime films of the 1960s and 1970s, known collectively as poliziotteschi, were often akin to their gialli counterparts in terms of their extremism. Featuring over-the-top violence and performances, they often paralleled or even mimicked what was going on in British and American filmmaking at the time. In the case of the 1973 Italian/Spanish co-production High Crime (aka La polizia incrimina la legge assolve), shades of The Godfather, Dirty Harry, and most obviously The French Connection, are definitely visible in this high octane crime thriller, executed Euro-style. The results were hugely successful in the film’s home territory, while also adding another feather in the long and varied career cap of Franco Nero.

Among the many nature-strikes-back horror films of the 1970s released through American International Pictures, 1976’s Squirm was also Jeff Lieberman’s directorial debut, though he would go on to helm other cult favorites like Blue Sunshine, Just Before Dawn, Remote Control, and Satan’s Little Helper. Shot in and around Georgia and employing Rick Baker for the make-up effects, the film features Don Scardino as Mick, an average guy from New York City who’s visiting his Southern girlfriend Geri (Patricia Pearcy) and her family when an outbreak of electrified and deadly worms begin to pile up and devour the locals in succession.

The late 1970s and early 1980s seem to have no shortage of disco musicals, many of which were fueled by drugs (allegedly) and imagination. Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, Thank God It’s Friday, Xanadu, The Apple... they all earned their fair share of criticisms, and in some cases, financial success, or a lack thereof. One of the oddest came in 1980, courtesy of stage producer-turned-film producer Alan Carr, who had had major success with Grease two years earlier. Directing was Nancy Walker, mostly known for acting roles in The Mary Tyler Moore Show and McMillan & Wife, but the disco-laden comedy extravaganza Can’t Stop the Music was her feature film directorial debut, for better or worse.