4:30 PM: Barabbas, a 1961 epic based on a novel by Pär Lagerkvist, stars Anthony Quinn as a footnote historical character, the "rebel and robber" who the rabble selected, out of the same pool that included Jesus, to be spared execution and set free. The movie, directed by Richard Fleischer, starts right out of the gate with the scene of Barabbas being pulled out of holding cell and turned loose, and the minor-character's-eye view on important historical (Biblical) events has me thinking of Monty Python's Life of Brian even before Quinn backed into the crucifix being prepared for Jesus and the Foley guy, having a little fun, provided the sound effect to go with Quinn hitting his head with what sounded like someone smacking a hollow coconut. This was an international production, shot in Rome and produced by Dino De Laurentiis for Columbia Pictures, with a cast that includes Silvana Mangano (as Barabbas's old flame, who has fallen under Jesus's sway while her boyfriend had been in the jug, and who talks about her new crush as if she prayed to a picture of him that she tore out of Tiger Beat), Arthur Kennedy as Pilate, Katy Jurado, Harry Andrews, Vittorio Gassman, Ernest Borgnine, and Jack Palance as, shockingly, a bad guy. It features some weird, faintly arty effects--such as the synthesizer-like sounds that accompany the sight of a whip lashing Jesus's back--that might have just been in the air of Rome during the time of Fellini's greatest popular successes, and it's very badly dubbed, with a lot of awkward chatter when there are more than three people on the screen: "Hey, look, it's Barabbas!" "Look, everybody, Barabbas is out!" "What's it like to be free, Barabbas?" If Quinn seems to be about as right in the lead role as anybody could be, that may be because, after so many international-cast jobs, he had developed the weird ability to sound dubbed while speaking in what was clearly his own voice, if only because nobody else could deliver a bad line like "You're afraid to look at me because I'm alive!" in quite the same way, as if he regretted that he couldn't have it tattooed on his forehead. When this lowlife staggers into the local watering hole and all the other lowlifes start jabbering in other people's voice, Barabbas has the special feel of a spaghetti Western religious epic.

Read More...

Our fearless – and quite possibly senseless – movie janitor is watching every movie on the IMDb Bottom 100 list. Join us now for another installment of Unwatchable.

A*P*E (also known as Hideous Mutant, Super Kong and, um, Attack of the Giant Horny Gorilla) was released in 1976, the same year as the Dino De Laurentiis remake of King Kong. The conspiracy theorist inside me would like to think that De Laurentiis secretly financed A*P*E so that his incredibly fake-looking Kong wouldn’t look so bad by comparison. In reality, A*P*E is a South Korean-American co-production with no apparent connection to the De Laurentiis empire. But I’m allowed to have my suspicions.

The first five minutes of A*P*E set a standard for gut-busting awfulness that few movies could sustain – and indeed, the remainder of the movie is a routinely terrible Kong ripoff. But oh, those first five minutes!

Read More...

Of all the great cinematic epics, none is bigger than Sergei Bondarchuk's War and Peace. Simply put, everything about the film is massive- its budget (upwards of $100 million in 1960s dollars), its production schedule (nearly five years), its cast (tens of thousands of Red Army soldiers were used as extras in the battle sequences), even its running time of nearly eight hours. Yet War and Peace would merely be a footnote in movie history if its largesse was its only notable quality. Reviews of the day praised it not only for its epic scope and impeccable production values but also for its emotional sensitivity and human drama. Even today, War and Peace remains a masterpiece of its kind, and the rare adaptation of a great novel that does justice to its classic source material. For this not insignificant miracle, credit should be given not only to the Soviet film industry but also to Bondarchuk's sure-footed direction.

Read More...