Tag Archives: Roger Corman

Bloody Mama

Dedicated to the mothers of America, Bloody Mama is a lurid, vividly engrossing and entirely inaccurate portrayal of the exploits of the Barker Gang, one of the many notorious criminal gangs that sprang up in America during the Depression.

Whereas the real Ma Barker was peripheral to the exploits of her sons, the film places her at the very heart of the gang, a devoted mother to her variously psychopathic, drug-addicted and borderline incestuous sons. It’s a strange, extreme film, both funny and shocking, with an amazing central performance from Shelley Winters as Ma Barker. It also features a very young Robert De Niro, twitchy as the drug-addicted Lloyd Barker (Corman has more cinematic connections than Kevin Bacon).

Shelley Winters as Kate 'Ma' Barker

(The film really was dedicated to the mothers of America, both in the publicity and the film itself, with the titles rolling over this 1934 US stamp.)

The St. Valentine’s Day Massacre

Another genre for Corman, this time the gangster movie, and a studio picture made with Twentieth Century Fox. It’s a cracking old-school gangster movie, with Jason Robards as Al Capone going through scenery like popcorn.

Corman, there to introduce the film, told the story of how he’d originally wanted to cast Orson Welles as Capone, and the studio had gently dissuaded him, saying Welles was impossible to work with. Robards was originally cast as Capone’s rival Bugs Moran – that role went instead to Ralph Meeker.

There’s a wonderful selection of thuggish faces in the movie, up to and including Jack Nicholson in a one-line part (chosen by Nicholson, according to Corman, over a larger role because the shooting schedule meant he’d get paid for longer). George Segal, high up the cast list but in a relatively small role, appears to be in an entirely different movie – possibly a prototype of The Sting.

The St. Valentine's Day Massacre poster

There’s a splendid voiceover detailling the lives and eventual deaths of the main characters, delivered in stentorian, moralising style with a sly undercurrent.

How To Shoot a Film in 5 Days

How do you shoot a film in five days? According to Shane Meadows (and his producer, Mark something-or-other), you get a few mates together (particularly if you’re mates with Paddy Considine), call in a few favours with the Arctic Monkeys, and trust to luck that you get enough usable footage. According to Roger Corman, it’s all about planning ahead.

Meadows and his producer have made one film like this; Corman, as director and later as producer to others, has made hundreds.

Meadows and Mark Herbert (I googled him) gave an entertaining double interview at the EIFF, a mixture of anecdotes about their past experiences in the film industry, and why this prompted them to change track and return to lo-to-no budget filmmaking. The resultant film was Le Donk & Scor-Zay-Zee, screening at the festival, although I’ve not caught up with it. Their experiences are salutory, warning against the perils of the filmmaking by committee that accompanies bigger budgets. It’s a sentiment that was echoed by Roger Corman, whose few involvements with big studio productions encouraged him to return to the low budget filmmaking that allowed him the control he wanted.

Meadows and Herbert also highlighted the strange snobbery in the British film industry, which doesn’t like to think of itself as an industry, and is very snooty about the kind of independent financing that keeps American indies afloat. Meadows was roundly condemned for taking Eurostar’s money to make Somers Town – he was only slightly defensive here, and said that he had an airtight contract that let him get away with murder, instead of being at the whim of producers and conventional film financiers. This attitude is tied into the way government funding continues to dominate the film industry, whether the Film Council or Scottish Screen, despite being as insular as the traditional nepotism of film studios.

Particularly interesting was the pair’s admission that they don’t quite know how to go on from here: having produced a film in this way, and brought it to the festival to some acclaim, they don’t want to just sell it on to a traditional distributor, and are trying to think of new ways to get the film to an audience. They threw a few ideas out (like setting up village fetes – real lo-fi word of mouth), and admitted that they’re still working on what to do. It would have been interesting to go into it more (they had an understandable apprehension about the possibilities and problems of the Internet: how do you monetise it?), but it didn’t really go further than that.

The kind of low budget independent filmmaking and distribution that Roger Corman thrived on is no longer possible – there are no grindhouses and drive-ins left, and even allegedly independent cinemas like the Filmhouse and the GFT are tied into distribution deals. I admit, I don’t know how it works, but the Filmhouse has Michael Mann’s Public Enemies on the cover of next month’s programme, and that isn’t independent, struggling-to-find-an-audience cinema by any criteria, and I’d be willing to bet that the GFT is also screening it. I’m also willing to bet that, however loyal their audience, they’re loosing a lot of people like me, who have Cineworld Unlimited cards (or other deals) won’t go to other cinemas unless the films aren’t showing at the multiplex. (I’m digressing – it pisses me off that the GFT isn’t smarter about its programming, even though I know I’m lazy about chasing up films that aren’t on at the Cineworld)

The Roger Corman interview (conducted by geek hero Kim Newman) was a whirlwind tour of Corman’s prolific career, with some nice anecdotes and so forth. It was good to hear his opinion that low budget filmmaking is all about planning, after hearing about Meadows somewhat haphazard approach – I feel that independent filmmakers need to strike a balance.

The Meadows interview raises more questions about the film industry in Britain. One gets the impression that for Meadows, it was a cathartic experience, sweeping out his experiences of working within the bigger budgets, and as much about the process as the end result, but it may be that it lights a fire under people’s asses, which is no bad thing.

The Masque of the Red Death

Ever more glorious technicolor from the Corman Poe films, this time courtesy of Nicolas Roeg. The red of the title infuses the entire film.

It’s a darker film, content-wise, than the earlier adaptations, closer in tone to the original story, about the wicked aristocracy living in debauchery, thinking themselves safe behind castle walls as plague sweeps the countryside. Vincent Price (natch), this time as the Satan-worshipping Prince Prospero, is far more menacing, softly persuasive as he attempts to corrupt an innocent country girl, and roundly dismissive of the nobles who seek his protection.

Annoyingly, can’t find any good stills via Google images – will try to track down later…

Nevermore!

The Raven has to be the apotheosis of the crazy eyeball of gothic, featuring as it does Vincent Price, Peter Lorre and Boris Karloff (not to mention an absurdly young Jack Nicholson). It’s probably my favourite of the Corman Poe adaptations.

Not that it bears much relation to Poe’s poem. There’s a raven, obviously, and a woman called Lenore, and that’s about it. Instead, it’s a wonderfully daft story about feuding sorcerers, with the three stars (and supporting cast) overacting their socks off and, one hopes, having a ball.

Another wildly inaccurate poster:

The Raven poster

Nevermore!

The Intruder

A very different film from Corman’s crowd-pleasing Poe adaptations, The Intruder is a sharp dissection of racism in the American South at the time of desegregation. Political commentary disguised as exploitation film, it plays very differently to a modern audience – particularly in Britain – than it would have in 1962, when it barely found an audience at all.

The Intruder: Still from title sequence

William Shatner (four years before Trek) plays Adam Cramer, a slick bastard in a white suit who arrives in the small town of Caxton on the eve of integration, charming the women and stirring up racial hatred. As the hatred spirals into violence, Cramer finds himself loosing control of the situation he created, digging deeper holes to extricate himself and eventually exposed by the man he cuckolded.

Corman’s characteristic wit is there in the sharp portraits of small-town stereotypes, and while Cramer’s firebrand speeches seem unsubtle to the modern ear (particularly coupled to the beginnings of those unique Shatner cadences), they’re really not so far from what was really going on in America – and the hatred he stirs up is still disturbingly present, if not so visible. It’s telling that Corman ends the film, not with redemptive violence visited on the instigator, but the mob dispersing to think on their behaviour or to try to forget it, and Cramer humiliated but free to leave – this lesson may be learnt, but very likely will not be passed on.

(Interesting, also, that actor Frank Maxwell, who plays the town’s newspaperman (the first character to mistrust Cramer), was apparently blacklisted during the McCarthy era, just a few years before this film was made – another reminder of how different an age it was.)

The Pit and the Pendulum

Which is what I want to call my pub. (Alas, I’m not the only one who’s thought of this.)

Honestly, I’m still recovering from Van Diemen’s Land. Still loving the Corman/Poe awesomeness, but don’t have much to add to that…

The Pit and the Pendulum poster

(Except possibly to say that at no point does any female character wear a negligee that flimsy :)

House of Usher

(I was considering a bad punning title, but I’ve decided to spare you, just this once)

The EIFF’s Roger Corman retrospective kicked off with The Fall of the House of Usher, the first of his splendid Poe adaptations. It’s gloriously gothic stuff, in fabulous Color (not technically Technicolor, as that’s a trademark – the titles proudly announce that it’s in ‘Cinemascope and Color’). Also screened with French subtitles, because the best print they could find was French – here’s hoping it gets a digital restoration soon (unnecessary subtitles are surprisingly distracting, even when in a language you don’t understand :)

Fall of the House of Usher poster

It’s ages since I’ve read Poe, so I can’t remember how closely it sticks to the story (probably more than The Raven does, but that’s not saying much). Either way, it doesn’t really matter – Corman’s Poe films are a thing unto themselves, and I’m so happy to see them on the big screen. Of course, the slightly staid Filmhouse isn’t quite the right setting – the Cameo would be closer to the fleapit vibe you’d really want. (Not that it’s a fleapit – I’m not starting anything – it’s my favourite of all the cinemas involved in the fest)

The film’s joy, the reason it works at all, is Vincent Price as Roderick Usher. That voice, as much as anything, and the perfect balance of lugubrious camp (it’s not camp, exactly – more like an awareness of the absurdity and a willingness to commit to the film regardless) and menace he brings to the film.