Review #1,261: 'Sorcerer' (1977)

Due to its catastrophic failure at the box-office and underwhelming reception from critics, William Friedkin's Sorcerer will always find itself linked to the that floppiest of flops, Heaven's Gate. Yet while Michael Cimino's over-ambition caused costs to skyrocket (taking down iconic studio United Artists in the process) and the thought of a bum-numbing, slow-burn western proving rather unappealing to audiences, Sorcerer's failure is often chalked down to the timing of its release - alongside Star Wars, which, of course, rapidly became a pop culture phenomenon and a box-office smash. On paper, a remake of French classic The Wages of Fear seems like a terrible idea, but Friedkin's gruelling and visceral thriller has quite rightly received a critical re-evaluation of late, with many recognising it as The Exorcist director's greatest achievement.

Other than the basic set-up, Sorcerer shares little in common with Henri-Georges Clouzot's classic. It spends a lot of time establishing the four main characters and the sins that will eventually bring them together. In Mexico, Nilo (Francisco Rabal) casually assassinates a man using a gun with a silencer; in Israel, Kassem (Amidou), an Arab terrorist disguised as a Jew, causes a deadly explosion in Jerusalem; in France, businessman Victor (Bruno Cremer) is rumbled for fraud and given 24 hours to pay back an unrealistic amount of money otherwise he'll be turned into the authorities; and in the U.S., Irish gangster Jackie (Roy Scheider) sees a robbery go tits-up and a price placed on his head by a powerful mob boss. Their destiny lies in Porvenir, a remote village in Latin America. Following an oil well explosion, a lucrative job becomes available for four lucky men. Only the work entails transporting damaged dynamite containing unstable nitroglycerin across 200 miles of jungle, mud roads, crazy locals, and a broken down rope-bridge.

It takes a while for the unsavoury foursome to shift into gear, but when the engines start rumbling, backed by Tangerine Dream's hypnotic score, Friedkin takes us on a punishing journey into the heart of darkness. Like Herzog's Aguirre, The Wrath of God and Klimov's Come and See, Sorcerer makes the experience seem physically draining. The troubled shoot is etched on the character's faces; sun-scorched, sleep-deprived and eyes bulging with madness, you can really feel their torment. The scene that adorns the poster, in which the two bulky trucks must navigate across a rotten and flimsy rope-bridge in hammering rain, is truly one of the most nail-biting set-pieces ever made. It's a miracle they even managed to film such a complicated and dangerous-looking sequence, and this adds a real physicality to the action. There are pacing issues as the film over-milks its introductions, but the international cast are a pleasure to watch during these early vignettes. The Exorcist will always remain at the very top of the pile, but Sorcerer is certainly Friedkin's most misunderstood work, and one that deserves recognition as one of the last great movies from the New Hollywood era.


Directed by: William Friedkin
Starring: Roy Scheider, Bruno Cremer, Francisco Rabal, Amidou, Ramon Bieri
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #737: 'Nightmare City' (1980)

Of the countless Italian-produced zombie movies that came out in the late 1970's and 1980's, many of them can easily be labelled the worst of the lot. Nightmare City, a silly, gun-and-knife-wielding zombie attack movie directed by hack Umberto Lenzi, is certainly up (or down) there. With it's bland, beardy lead, nonsensical story, lazy plot devices and extremely dodgy make-up, Nightmare City is very bad indeed. But it just manages to squeeze a toe hair over the so-bad-it's-still-bad-but-bearable line and raises a few titters with it's ludicrous execution, and can also boast that it's not quite as bad as Zombie Creeping Flesh (1980).

'American' news reporter Dean Miller (Hugo Stiglitz) travels to the airport to await the arrival of a scientist, whom he is to interview following a recent nuclear accident. When the plane arrives, it is surrounded by the military when no-one responds or opens the door. After a brief stand-off, the plane opens it's doors and dozens of bloodthirsty zombies pile out and attack the soldiers with guns, knives, bats and teeth. Eager to report the outbreak, Miller is halted by General Murchison (Mel Ferrer), who wants to hush the incident to save face. When his television station is attacked during the filming of some disco aerobics programme, Miller must find his wife and escape to the countryside.

Looking between a mixture of an out-of-date potato and a used teabag, the zombies here are much more human than your traditional Romero zombies, using weapons, moving at pace, and even clearly taking some sadistic pleasure when slitting a throat and carving a woman's breast off. As the film plods on, at a breakneck pace that somehow still manages to be boring, the make-up department seem to lose interest in the 'new' zombies and simply smear their faces with some dirt. But if Lenzi deserves credit for something, it's in keeping the violence inventive. There's eye gouging, stabbings, exploding heads and blood-drinking, and the fact that the gore looks absolutely crap makes it all the more fun.

The other familiar Lenzi traits are there, recognisable from his large collection of bizarre giallo such as Seven Blood-Stained Orchids (1972), Spasmo (1974), Eyeball (1975), and Cannibal Ferox (1981). This means lots of boobs. Every female attacked by the zombies seem to have their tops torn off. Didn't nurses wear bra's back then? We also the obligatory wrinkly has-been actor (Francisco Rabal - who made three films with Luis Bunuel) fondling a beautiful European model scene. It's quite despicable film-making if taking seriously, which you simply can't, you can only try and enjoy this for what it is, a film designed to make money by spilling some blood and showing some skin. But even that is hard, as when the film finishes with a 'twist', you feel like you've had 90 minutes of your life snatched away from you in some cruel joke. Pure dread, but it's earned an extra star through sheer audacity.


Directed by: Umberto Lenzi
Starring: Hugo Stiglitz, Laura Trotter, Maria Rosaria Omaggio, Francisco Rabal
Country: Italy/Mexico/Spain

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #307: 'Viridiana' (1961)

After 25 years away from Franco-dictated Spain, Luis Bunuel went back to make Viridiana. The film focuses on a nun called Viridiana, who is informed by her mother superior that her uncle, Don Jaime (Bunuel regular Fernando Rey), is dying and wishes for her to visit him. Whilst he has supported her for many years, she is suspicious of him, and had not seen him for many years. Don Jaime occupies a huge mansion with tracts of land, but has been lonely since his wife died on their wedding night. His only companion is his servant, Romona (Moargerita Lozano) and her daughter Rita (Teresa Rabal). On arrival, Don Jaime sees that Viridiana looks remarkably similar to his dead wife, and proclaims his love for her. When she refuses and leaves, Don Jaime commits suicide. Viridiana is left grief-stricken, and guilty emotions weigh her down. She decides to use the grounds to help 13 beggars.

Whilst not as intrinsically "surreal" as many of Bunuel's more well known films (Belle de Jour (1967) and The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (1972)), but his black sense of humour is in tack, along with his own brand of irony. After Jaime's death, his son Jorge (Francisco Rabal) arrives at the house. In one scene, Jorge sees a peasant dragging a dog that is tied to his cart. Jorge offers to buy the dog in an effort to save it. Bunuel then appears to mock the entire process of selflessness. Once the transaction is complete (and unseen by Jorge), another dog is seen tied to a cart travelling in the opposite direction.

Whilst Bunuel was permitted to make a film in his native Spain, no sooner had it been released, than the Spanish government banned it on the grounds of blasphemy and obscenity. The Vatican also denounced the film and called for its suppression. It's difficult to see exactly why this was, although there are some themes and representations that may have been contentious. Towards the end of the film, the vagrants that Viridiana has put up, decide to infiltrate the main house whilst the owners are away. In this debauched scene, the 13 beggars, sit around the dinner table, recreating the famous Last Supper painting by Leonardo da Vinci - a blind beggar is in the place of Jesus.

With stunning black and white cinematography by Jose F. Aguayo, each shot is entrenched with beauty and meaning. Whilst not his best film, Bunuel creates a strange drama of basic human desires, and the difficulty in controlling the baser ones. This could also be another possible reason for it's condemnation by the church. For, even with faith, these characters have trouble in controlling themselves, and even Viridiana is implicitly brought into this "life of sin".


Directed by: Luis Buñuel
Starring: Silvia Pinal, Francisco Rabal, Fernando Rey
Country: Spain/Mexico

Rating: *****

Marc Ivamy