Gobsmacking Cinema: THE THING WITH TWO HEADS (1972)

Sometimes I like a good science fiction movie; sometimes it's a western; occasionally a comedy; I might even be in the mood for a romance; or maybe a good thriller.

Then again, sometimes I just find myself in the mood for a man in a two-headed gorilla costume trashing a supermarket.

A little while back I was chatting about Ray Milland in AIP's PANIC IN YEAR ZERO. Well, just a few days ago I decided to dig out another Milland-starring AIP drive-in classic, and perfect candidate for the return of my gobsmacking cinema series, THE THING WITH TWO HEADS. In case you're thinking that the titular thing is the aforementioned gorilla, it's not. The gorilla is just the warm up act - the main event is even more fun.

Milland plays a top surgeon who, while undoubtedly brilliant, happens to be a white, racist bigot. An unfortunate chain of events involving his latest experiments and a terminal illness results in him having his head removed and grafted onto the body of a black convict on death row ("Rosey" Grier). Seriously.

I can't begin to describe how much fun this is, but it's a film that could only have come from the 70s. It's the ultimate decade for exploitational trash that filled the drive-ins and grindhouse cinemas despite being either rubbish, ludicrous or both. This film is a classic example of an insanely brilliant high-concept, low-budget movie with little in the way of "star" names - the kind of film that can't get a cinema release anymore.

Just check out some of the amazing lines that Milland has to say, while keeping a straight face:

"If you cut off my head, that'll be murder!"

"They've transplanted my head onto your body."

"That is not the gorilla's original head."

How can you read stuff like that and not think that modern cinema audiences are being deprived? Here at the Freakpit I'm always on a crusade to spread the word about barmy films that deserve more exposure and this one fits the bill perfectly.

My lesson is a simple one - next time you happen to see a film listed in your TV guide from the 50s, 60s or 70s that you've never heard of, looks insane and would clearly never get past the door of a studio these days, set your video. You might just get a treat that will outshine anything at your local multiplex.

Romantic comedy with Hugh Grant? Or a decapitated racist being double-crossed by a black convict out to clear his name? The choice is yours!

The Last of the Fringe

When the EIFF finished on the Sunday, I still had one day of holiday time left which, it just so happened, was also the last day of the Fringe. I took the opportunity then to take in a few more shows and, having written about all the other ones I saw, I thought it only fair that I gave these ones a mention too.

I started with HOW TO BUILD A TIME MACHINE, a one-man show in which a young scientist teaches a class about the theory and the physics behind time travel. There's a lot of complicated science-y stuff and some sprinklings of clever humour, but what sticks in the mind is the gradual revelation of a touching backstory that ends up why revealing why just why the scientist is so obsessed with time travel. Interesting, funny and affecting.

CHANBARA combines Japanese folks with massive drums and Japanese folks with big swords. It's an impressive display of traditional music and swordplay (from some guy who did some work on KILL BILL, apparently) and just a little mental. Very impressive.

I followed that with Reginald D. Hunter, a stand-up comedian who probably offended more than a few people (indeed, he was accused, wrongly, of being anti-semitic in the press during the festival) and certainly the girl I sat next to kept a straight face for most of the show. I, on the other hand, had tears streaming down my face. He might not say what you want to hear but you'll be glad he said it.

Then I finished my month-long festival spectacular with a late-night musical theatre production of NOSFERATU, which you might well be familiar with if you're a film geek. And if you're not, I can't think why you'd be reading this blog. Anyway, the young mob responsible for this show did a grand job, not just with their assured performances but with the atmosphere and, well, pretty much the whole production. It was spooky, it was funny, it was an hour well spent.

I then went home, got to my bed at about 2am and got up early for my return to work the next day. I've just about recovered now, I think.

I'll be back to talking about films from now on. Well, until next summer, anyway.

Another EIFF story (the last one, honest)

So, that festival story I was going to tell you about.

Every year around festival time you'll find it impossible to walk the streets of Edinburgh without seeing a familiar face. This year I breezed past Sean Connery in the foyer of the Filmhouse; had Trigger from "Only Fools and Horses" sit next to me at a Doug Stanhope gig; and saw Heather the Weather wandering about at the Scottish Parliament (trust me, Scottish people know who I'm talking about).

But the best, if not the most famous, celebrity incident occurred during the EIFF just after I came out of the screening of AL FRANKEN: GOD SPOKE.

I was hanging around waiting to go into the next film when an old American guy who looked vaguely familiar approached me and commented on the T-shirt I was wearing (a picture of Richard Nixon with the words LEGENDS NEVER DIE plastered across it). He began to tell me of how he had wanted to make a film about Nixon, which of course set the cogs in my brain going.

After about thirty seconds, I realised that I was chatting to D.A. Pennebaker, one of the true pioneers of American documentary cinema and, it just so happens, director of one of my favourite concert movies ever. The lightbulb above my head sparked into life.

"Monterey Pop!" I blurted out, and began a conversation about the aforementioned film. Well, really, it was more like he was telling me loads of interesting stuff and I was just blethering on about how brilliant Otis Redding was.

So that brief conversation really impressed my inner geek and I walked away happier than I had after any of the actual screenings (well, with the possible exception of that TWILIGHT ZONE episode I mentioned).

Okay, so I accept that many of you probably didn't recognise his name and that hardly any of you would recognise him if you saw him in the street - but all the same, I was tremendously excited and if you need to refresh your memory as to why then I suggest you revisit my blog entry of 14 July.

Talking of my previous concert movie marathon, I went to see ELVIS: THAT'S THE WAY IT IS at the cinema on Friday night. Sure, I just watched the DVD a couple of months ago, but you need to see it on the big screen. I swear it got more applause than half the films I saw at the EIFF.

That's the power of music for you. Well, music and a ton of burgers. Hail to the King, baby.

The last day of my EIFF2006 marathon

Sunday 27th August. The final day of the Edinburgh International Film Festival 2006, unlike all the others, contained just two films for me. It could have been more had I gone to any of the "Best of the Fest" screenings except, perhaps unsurprisingly, all the screenings that I could have made it to were for films I'd already seen.

The last Mitchell Leisen film on offer was NO MAN OF HER OWN, a bleak film noir starring Barbara Stanwyck and John Lund about a woman who steals the identity of a dead woman and begins to live her (priveleged) lifestyle. Obviously, in typically noir fashion, it begins to go wrong as people start to suspect the truth and her own guilt eats away at her until... well, that would be telling. It has a surprisingly happy ending for a noir movie but is no less satisfying for it, and is probably my second favourite of all the films in this retrospective.

But there's more.

To celebrate the last ever EIFF retrospective screening to be hosted by artistic director Shane Danielsen (he stepped down after the 2006 festival, his fifth), there was an extra treat after this screening. There were no clues other than it was approximately half an hour in length. So what was it?

Well you see, towards the end of his career Leisen slipped into obscurity and the world of television, where he directed a number of shows - and it was one of these that Mr Danielsen presented for us today. Namely, it was "The 16 Milimeter Shrine", one of the few episodes of THE TWILIGHT ZONE that Leisen directed.

I'll say it right now so you know where I stand - I think THE TWILIGHT ZONE (the original version) is quite simply the greatest show in the history of television. I'd probably have preferred the Roddy McDowall-starring "People Are Alike All Over" but the episode shown was more appropriate for a Leisen retrospective (it starred Ida Lupino as an aging actress who longed for the golden days of Hollywood when she was a star - something I suspect Leisen could relate to by this stage in his career).

Nevertheless, I'd take any episode under the circumstances - to see any episode of THE TWILIGHT ZONE whatsoever on the big screen would have me soiling myself with excitement, so this has to rank as one of the finest experiences I've ever had in the Filmhouse (right up there with the time on of their mystery screenings in the "Secret Cinema" season film turned out to be MONDO CANE).

After that, and a brief spot of lunch, I came to my last film of the festival (that's 55 in total, in case you're counting), Al Gore's environmental crusade documentary AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH, which he was present to promote.

It's an eye-opening film, for sure, and very well made considering it's essentially just a filmed version of the slide show he's been giving all over the world. It's well worth seeing - in fact it's a must. It's not the best film you'll see this year, or the most entertaining... but it's without doubt the most important film you'll see this year, or perhaps in your life.

And so my two-week EIFF spectacular came to end. I think I should take this opportunity to wish all the best to the departing director of the festival, the aforementioned Shane Danielson, for doing a fantastic job and being a very entertaining host. The man's a legend in my book.

There was just one more highlight (for a film geek like me at least) which I forgot to mention earlier but I need my bed, so I think I'll save that story for later in the week...

EIFF: Saturday 26th

The penultimate day of the festival began, as usual, with a screening from the Mitchell Leisen retrospective - namely, TO EACH HIS OWN - and it was the best one of all. A woman's weepy, TO EACH HIS OWN will delight those of you who revel in the over-the-top melodramas of George Cukor and Douglas Sirk.

Told in heartbreaking flashbacks by an impressively made up (and de-glamourised) Olivia De Havilland, the film charts the story of a girl who is forced to give up her only son and has to follow his life over the next two or three decades vicariously through his adopted mother. Always from afar, always unable to tell the boy the truth without hurting others, de Havilland observes, tortured and heartbroken.

I'm probably not giving away much by telling you that there is a happy ending - if you're a fan of these kinds of films you already know that, and if you're not then this film is unlikely to be your cup of tea anyway - but it got happier still after the film's release when the film earned the leading lady her first Best Actress award.

A quick trip down to the Scottish Parliament followed (my first visit - and the debating chamber was still closed following that beam incident), in order to see George Alagiah at the Festival of Politics, where he gave us his thoughts on multiculturalism and the immigrant experience. Fascinating it was, too.

It was then back to the Film Festival, where I took in the next in the 70s retrospective, HEAD OVER HEELS (or, as it was originally released and titled on this print, CHILLY SCENES OF WINTER). It starred John Heard and Mary Beth Hurt as a couple who meet, fall in love and then part, only for him to spend his life miserable and desperate to get her back. It sounds like standard rom-com stuff but while it was both romantic and comedic, it was a lot darker than romcom conventions would allow and painted an engrossing, amusing and at the same time slightly depressing picture of the power of love and longing. A pleasant surprise among a lot of more well-known pictures.

Documentary 51 BIRCH STREET began as a filmmaker documenting the life of his family, in particular his parents, but ended up as something a little more unsettling. It's hardly in the same territory (or of the same quality) as CAPTURING THE FRIEDMANS but it's certainly a little unsettling. Three months after his mother dies, his father remarries (to his secretary from many years before) and a series of diaries kept by his mother reveal that married life was not exactly bliss.

If there's a flaw with this film, other than the crappy letterbox projection efforts of Cineworld, it's that it takes too long to reveal exactly who the film is about. It bounces back and forth between the mother, the father and the kids until you're not entirely sure what the focus is on. The comparison to CAPTURING THE FRIEDMANS is an obvious one but I'm afraid it's one in which 51 BIRCH STREET ends up considerably inferior.

I finished the night with another in the 70s retrospective season, this time George A. Romero's THE CRAZIES.

This low-budget shocker doesn't feature zombies, like his more famous films, but it does have people going insane and killing each other so that's still quite nice. Some of the scenes have not aged well but the documentary style of shooting still holds up remarkably.

Media students could have a field day writing an essay about this film as a Vietnam allegory (there are a lot of not-so-subtle touches throughout that are obvious even if you're not looking at them) but the impression portrayed in the film of ineptitude on the part of senior members of the US government and army could just as easily be pulled from today's headlines.

A real classic to finish the night, leaving me with just the closing day's films to cover. I'll be back soon!

EIFF: Friday 25th

Kicking off with a Mitchell Leisen film again, PRACTICALLY YOURS is a comedy that sees a misinterpreted radio signal result in heroic pilot Fred MacMurray returning home from the war to find himself engaged to a woman co-worker from his office. It's been called a one-joke film and one of Leisen's weaker efforts, including by Leisen himself, but I really enjoyed it. It might not have had the highest number of laughs but it certainly kept me amused, and was helped by the ever reliable MacMurray and Claudette Colbert as the odd couple.

It was a much darker tale which followed - the documentary A CRUDE AWAKENING: THE OIL CRASH. As you'd expect from the title, this film details our reliance on oil, the effects it's having on the world and how we're running out of time to do something about it. The film is very good at hammering home the bad news but not so hot at offering up potential solutions. Nevertheless, it's an important and sobering film that everyone should see for their own education.

Walter Hill's THE DRIVER featured in the 70s retrospective in a nice print - I've seen this movie before (indeed, I wrote about it briefly in a post about Ryan O'Neal several months back) but to see it on the big screen was something else. The characters (all of whom are nameless and simply credited as The Driver, The Player, etc.) are all perfectly cast with Dern playing psycho cop, Adjani playing moody but beautiful and O'Neal doing just the right amount of nothing to be cool. It's the car chases that make the movie though, proving Hill's action credentials which he later put to good use on THE WARRIORS, and this is the main reason for seeing the movie in a cinema rather than on TV.

THE RING FINGER is a French adaptation of a Japanese novel, and perhaps it's this clash of cultures that rendered it such a bizarre film that is very difficult to get to grips with. A young woman gets a job at a place that preserve things for people and - forget it, the more I try to explain it, the more confusing it'll sound. Weird.

MIKEY AND NICKY was the first let-down of the 70s retrospective. Essentially an entire movie of Peter Falk and John Cassavetes wandering through the streets talking to each other (a lot of which was improvised, apparently) as some form of examination of male friendship with Falk trying to help the unhinged Cassavetes. It's not just dull; it's frustrating - because I could not figure out for the life of me why these two characters would still be friends when Cassavetes spends the entire movie being an insufferable prick.

Sadly it didn't get any better as I finished the day with a late night screening of THE PRODIGY, a low budget crime thriller from America that unfortunately gives a whole new definition to the word "amateur". The movie looked really cheap, which I can forgive; but there's no excuse for filming a script this bad, especially when you're going to have equally bad actors attempt to act it. I pride myself on a strange personal principle that I will never walk out of a cinema screening before the end credits roll. This film came very close to breaking that.

Just two days of EIFF coverage to go - it'll be online soon!