The only bad thing about seeing Solomon Kane early is… you have to wait even longer than the rest of the world for the sequel.
Thanks to the good people at Ain’t It Cool News, I enjoyed a special privilege today - I was selected, along with several others, to see a distribution screening for the upcoming film Solomon Kane. Created in 1928 by Robert E. Howard, the creator of Conan The Cimmerian, Kane is a 17th-century Puritan who roams the world fighting all manner of evil - vampires, witches, devils - armed with a rapier, a musket, and his faith in God. A handful of short stories chronicling Kane’s adventures were published in the pulp magazines of the day, but Howard eventually abandoned the character.
Now, over 80 years later, Kane has finally made his way to the big screen (unless you count Van Helsing, which plagiarized the character to such an extent it’s mind-boggling). As a lifelong Robert E. Howard fan, it pleases me to say that despite some problems with the screenplay, the film is a entertaining, well-crafted adventure.
Actor James Purefoy makes for a terrific Solomon Kane. He sinks his teeth into the role, as he did with Mark Antony on the HBO series Rome, and doesn’t let go, deftly portraying a violent man who strives to be peaceful, but can’t stand idly by while good people are made to suffer. Director Michael J. Bassett not only drew solid performances out of everyone - Purefoy, Pete Postlethwaite, Alice Krige, Max Von Sydow (!) - but he kept the film moving at a good clip and showed a steady hand with the action scenes.
Kudos must also be given to cinematographer Dan Laustsen (Brotherhood Of The Wolf, The League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen) - the film looks fantastic, evoking the bleak, gritty world of Kane with a great deal of skill and a minimum of digital trickery. The costumes and production design are top notch, and Klaus Badlet’s score supports the film nicely, even if the temp tracks were obvious once in a while (the end credits reek of The Dark Knight).
I hesitate to discuss the plot in any detail since the film won’t be released for some time yet, but a number of story beats were plainly inspired by Star Wars and Conan The Barbarian. Sometimes this works, sometimes it doesn’t.
And since the short stories present Kane as a fully formed character, screenwriter / director Michael J. Bassett was obliged to create an origin story for him. When we first meet Kane in the film, he’s a greedy, barbarous man whose quest for gold brings him face to face with Satan’s Reaper, who tells Kane his soul is forfeit for a life of sin and murder. Kane barely escapes and retreats to a monastery, hoping God will absolve him. The notion that Kane is a reformed sinner isn’t a bad one, but I didn’t like the idea that Kane’s conversion was motivated solely by his fear of damnation (and that’s coming from an atheist). Then again, how do you present a sincere religious conversion to a cynical modern-day audience?
Kane isn’t a big-budget film. It has a modest scale, which befits the character and his world. It’s shot and directed in a classic style, which also befits the character and his world. And while it has swordplay and magic aplenty, it’s a surprisingly character-driven movie. Bassett and Purefoy deserve a great deal of credit for giving Kane enough screen time to change and grow before our eyes. By the time Kane dons his trademark cape, sash and hat, the heroics that follow are all the more exciting because you’re emotionally invested in him.
As someone who saw DARK CITY a year before it was released and lamented what they did to it until the director’s cut repaired the damage, I’ll end with a piece of advice for the powers that be in case they stumble across this review…
Do not re-cut or re-shoot it. Do not add more digital effects. Do not tinker with the color-correction or add rock music. You’ve got a solid little movie on your hands that could easily spawn a trilogy. Don’t ruin it trying to turn it into something that it’s not.
Put simply, do not fuck with the movie - it works.
Once you get past the absurd concept that the protagonist of Danger Man, John Drake (Patrick McGoohan), is supposed to be an American secret agent, you’ll have a good time with this series. McGoohan is many things, but an American he is not.
Each episode is half an hour, so the pacing is brisk. A typical episode begins with Drake journeying to a foreign country on a mission (i.e. stock footage followed by a small set in England doubling for the location). Sometimes Drake recovers a stolen piece of microfilm. Sometimes he breaks up a spy ring, or a band of drug smugglers. Sometimes he solves a murder, or prevents one - but he rarely commits one. 
On a side note, fans of The Prisoner - 
Is it good? Yes, it is. Is it as good as everyone thinks it it? No, it isn’t. Much like The Dark Knight, people have such love for this franchise they’re not seeing the film, they’re seeing what they want to see. 
That being said, the film does what it sets out to do - it clears the decks and sets the franchise back at zero again. Since I loathe every iteration of Star Trek that followed the original series, it pleases me to see the franchise return to its roots. Hopefully, the people in charge of making the inevitable sequel will avoid the modern compulsion to retread old ground and tell some new stories instead. After all, the idea is to “boldly go where no man has gone before” - so if I see Javier Bardem playing Khan in the sequel to this film, I’ll content myself with the original episodes and movies. But for the time being, let’s say I’m cautiously optimistic. 
Those who know me well might ask why I didn’t seek out this film years ago - not only do I love historical epics, I love the films of director Anthony Mann. He forged his talents in film noir with classics such as Raw Deal and T-Men, directed a string of terrific psychological Westerns with Jimmy Stewart - Winchester ‘73, The Naked Spur, Bend Of The River, The Man From Laramie - and in the 1960’s he graduated to the epic film with El Cid, followed three years later by The Fall Of The Roman Empire. Without question, Mann is one of America’s most underrated directors.
According to Hollywood lore, super-producer Samuel Bronston wanted to reteam El Cid stars Charlton Heston and Sophia Loren for Fall Of The Roman Empire, but Heston declined. Feeling they had a top-notch cast otherwise - Alec Guinness, James Mason, Anthony Quayle, John Ireland, Omar Sharif (as the King of Armenia!) and newcomer Christopher Plummer - Bronston and Mann decided to cast Stephen Boyd, Heston’s nemesis in Ben-Hur, as their leading man, and this is the film’s Achilles’ Heel. Surrounding Boyd with such powerhouse actors only serves to diminish his performance, not elevate it. He’s earnest and stalwart, but the moment Mason or Guinness speak, Boyd is completely marginalized. And he’s a poor match for Sophia Loren, who was at the peak of her beauty here. Only an actor of Heston’s stature could have been a convincing love interest for her.
Nevertheless, the film does feature terrific performances by Alec Guinness, James Mason and company. And no expense was spared - they literally built the Roman Forum, and the sight of this massive set filled with thousands of extras will leave you in awe. It’s one of the most stunning physical productions I’ve ever seen, from the sets to costumes to the smallest trinket.
If you’re not familiar with the films of Powell and Pressburger, you need to find copies of Black Narcissus, The Red Shoes and Tales Of Hoffmann right now. One of the singular virtues of these films is that they were shot by esteemed cinematographer Jack Cardiff, who was and always will be a perfect example of how much a cinematographer can bring to a film.
In addition, Cardiff had a fine career as a director through the sixites and early seventies, adapting D.H. Lawrence’s Sons and Lovers for the screen. He also gave us a rollicking Viking saga with The Long Ships, and one of my favorite adventure films - Dark Of The Sun, starring Rod Taylor and Jim Brown. He eventually returned to cinematography, shooting big-budget Hollywood genre films such as Death On The Nile, Ghost Story, Rambo: First Blood Part II, Conan The Destroyer and Tai-Pan. He died on April 22nd at age 94 . 
Exploding heads, white eyes, burnt corpses… welcome to the world of Scanners.
Yesterday we lost one of the truly great composers from the Silver Age of film scoring - Maurice Jarre has died of cancer at age 84. A casual look at his credits will describe his greatness far better than I can. Lawrence Of Arabia, Doctor Zhivago, Ryan’s Daughter, A Passage To India, all for director David Lean. The Professionals, Night Of The Generals, Grand Prix, The Man Who Would Be King, Shogun, Witness, Ghost. And a couple of lesser-known but personal favorites - Tai-Pan and Lion Of The Desert 
In my annual pilgrimages to The Egyptian Theatre for their Film Noir Festival, a name that pops up every so often is that of director Andre De Toth. Pitfall and Crime Wave are, in my humble opinion, classics of the genre. His most famous film is undoubtedly House Of Wax, which was actually atypical for him - his output consisted largely of film noir and westerns. So when I saw his name on Day Of The Outlaw, I knew I would be well taken care of. 
Violence is about to erupt when Captain Bruhn (Burl Ives) and his band of criminals blow into town and seize control. On the run with $40,000 in gold in their saddlebags, Bruhn destroys every gun in town and quarantines the women to prevent his men from mistreating them - but after a month on the run his men are impossible to control. Worse yet, Bruhn is slowly dying from a bullet he took during the robbery. Both Starrett and Bruhn know that when he dies, his men will destroy the town and everyone in it. 
To save the town, Starrett decides to sacrifice his own life by claiming he knows a secret passage through the mountains, when in truth there isn’t one. With Bruhn’s silent approval, Starrett leads the criminals into the mountains to die of exposure. 
The final episode of The Prisoner was so confusing and controversial that creator / star Patrick McGoohan reportedly had to go into hiding until the furor passed - and in the intervening years, the series has lost none of its power. Having just watched it for the first time, I felt compelled to find him and admonish him for taking me on such a bizarre, compelling, and ultimately frustrating journey. Of course, were he still alive, McGoohan would kick my ass.
For the uninitiated, The Prisoner is the story of a British spy who abruptly retires for reasons unknown. Almost immediately after handing in his resignation, he is kidnapped and taken to a mysterious island where ex-spies are held prisoner in a community known as “The Village.” He is assigned a number instead of a name - Number Six - and is placed under constant surveillance. Every week, a new administrator - Number Two - is assigned to The Village, and attempts to break Number Six with drugs, psychological warfare, torture, you name it. Unsure if he has been kidnapped by his own side or an enemy, Number Six staunchly refuses to answer any questions, but repeatedly asks one - who is Number One?
Due to his popularity on British television in the spy series Danger Man (in fact, some Prisoner fans theorize that Number Six is actually the same character from Danger Man, John Drake) McGoohan was given complete creative freedom on The Prisoner, and he certainly made use of it. The stories are elliptical, the dialogue is cryptic, the performances are theatrical, the camera is restless, the editing is frantic, and it blends just about every genre you can think of. One minute it’s a spy thriller, the next it’s a satire, then it’s science fiction - and in one episode, it even becomes a Western! It’s an allegory about power and free will, it’s a commentary on society, religion, education, nuclear war and just about anything else you can think of. It’s as if Patrick McGoohan realized he would never get an opportunity like this again, and poured everything he wanted to say and do into this one project.
As a result, you’ve got a wildly uneven show that sometimes strikes creative gold, and sometimes falls flat on its face. Out of the seventeen episodes of The Prisoner, half of them are downright terrific. The other half - in particular the final two episodes - are so determined to break with convention they end up completely alienating the audience. An apt comparison is Twin Peaks, a show that began with one foot in reality and one foot in David Lynch’s bizarre imagination, but eventually became completely surreal. Did I understand what McGoohan was trying to say in the final episode? Yes. Was it emotionally satisfying? No. Film - especially television - has to do both. 
The math on this one was simple. I recently enjoyed plowing through McMurtry’s masterwork, Lonesome Dove, and I love the film Hud - so reading McMurtry’s first novel, upon which Hud was based, was an easy decision.
The other major difference between the book and the film is the character of Alma, the house maid Hud relentlessly tries to seduce, played brilliantly by Patricia Neal in the film. In the book, this character is black, and Hud’s advances are far more brutal. I’m not surprised that this character didn’t reach the screen intact - somehow, I don’t think audiences in the 1960’s would have accepted seeing Paul Newman try to rape a black woman.