Shaft (1971)

 

The opening sequence of Shaft clearly establishes Richard Roundtree as a star and his character John Shaft as the fascinating central focus of our attention. Clad in a brown leather trench coat and walking with a determined swagger, Roundtree’s Shaft emerges from the subway and walks through Times Square under movie marquees featuring films with white actors. Director Gordon Parks slyly inserts Shaft into movie history here by proclaiming in the opening sequence that, yes, this is a movie with a black lead character, and it’s going to be a different kind of film from those on the screens in New York City in the early 1970s. It certainly helps to have Isaac Hayes’s percolating “Theme from Shaft” to underscore Roundtree’s walk, a welcome musical and lyrical introduction to the film and the character. John Shaft is a private detective who’s hired by crime boss Bumpy Jonas (Moses Gunn, almost Shakespearean in his venality) to find his kidnapped daughter, this despite attempts by a couple of Bumpy’s men to kill Shaft earlier in the film. At Bumpy’s suggestion, Shaft unites with Ben Buford (Christopher St. John, father of actor Kristoff St. John, who was almost as stunningly good looking as his dad), a leader of a black “militant” group similar to the Black Panthers, to find Bumpy’s daughter. (Every group who wanted equal rights at the time was labeled “militant,” it seems.) It turns out that the Mafia have taken the girl, and according to Shaft’s friend in the NYPD, Lt. Vic Androzzi (Charles Cioffi), the tensions between the two criminal groups from opposite ends of the city are threatening to start a race war. The reasons behind this impending war are perhaps a bit murky, but it’s not those details that make this an exciting film. It’s the action, and Shaft has lots of gunfire and fighting and what must have been pretty violent stuff for the time period. The film also features some very interesting moments involving race relations, and many of them feature some sly humor. For example, when Lt. Androzzi holds up a black pen to Shaft’s face and says, “What is it with this black shit, huh? You ain’t so black,” Shaft holds up a white coffee mug to Androzzi and responds, “You ain’t so white either, baby.” The location shooting in New York lends the film a sense of authenticity, down to the unexpected real protest against the New York Times that Parks managed to capture for the opening sequence, and the numerous supporting characters, such as the many informants (like Antonio Fargas before Car Wash and the TV series Starsky & Hutch), keep the plot moving briskly. The few women in the movie are only incidental to the plot; they’re primarily there as objects for Shaft, who has sex with a couple of different women, never professing emotional attachments to any of them. Of course, James Bond was bedding multiple women in every 007 movie at the same time, but it must have been (and still must be) a surprise for some viewers to see a black male lead character engaging in the same behavior. Movies like Shaft don’t often get recognized for their award-worthy costume design, but even though it might not be a very practical outfit for taking down the Mafia, Shaft looks damn good in the black leather he wears for the latter part of the movie. The film is oddly progressive for when it was made. As an example, I would point out that when Shaft is looking for a couple of Mafiosos in a Greenwich Village bar, there’s a bit of witty interchange or banter between him and a gay bartender. I’d almost characterize it as playful, making this one of the few movies of its time that didn’t traffic in homophobic attitudes towards its gay characters. In a sly nod to other directors like Hitchcock who made brief appearances in their own films, Gordon Parks managed to cast himself in a cameo role as a landlord. It’s a fun moment in a film that holds up well overall despite some of the dated slang that the characters use at times. Shaft was so successful that it spawned two sequels, a sequel/reboot, and another sequel/reboot, all of them grounded in the original mythology of the 1971 film and all of them starring or featuring Roundtree. Oscar Trivia Note: Isaac Hayes was the first African American to win an Oscar for Best Original Song (for the theme song) and only the third African American to win an Oscar in any category (after Hattie McDaniel and Sidney Poitier).

Oscar Win: Best Original Song (“Theme from ‘Shaft’”)

Other Oscar Nomination: Best Original Dramatic Score

What's the Matter with Helen? (1971)

 

What’s the Matter with Helen? is an interesting mix of psychological horror film and suspense drama and movie musical. It has two great stars, Debbie Reynolds and Shelley Winters, playing the mothers of two young men who have been sentenced to life imprisonment for the murder of a young woman in Iowa. The mothers decide to move to Los Angeles and change their names. Well, to be fair, Reynolds’ Adelle Bruckner, the pushier one, decides that they should move to Los Angeles and open a dance studio to get away from all the depressing murder trial aftermath and press attention. Winters’ Helen Hill just wants to follow Adelle wherever she goes; she’s a bit adrift mentally and rather clingy. Besides, they’re being threatened by phone calls in Iowa, so they think that changing their names and leaving their home will somehow prevent them from being harassed any longer. When they arrive in Hollywood, Adelle (now Stuart) tries to make herself over in the guise of a Hollywood star, but Helen (now Martin) doesn’t watch movies and has little interest in anything other than feeding her pet rabbits, playing the piano for Adelle’s dance lessons, and listening to an evangelist on the radio each night. She’s suspicious of every man who comes to the studio/home that she and Adelle share, and she frequently has flashbacks or visions that make her very anxious. It’s a wonder than anyone wants her to be around the young children in the dance studio, but she plays the piano and helps with the costumes, so she’s allowed to stick around. All the little girls at the studio want to be Shirley Temple, of course, but what little girl in the 1930s didn’t dream of being Shirley Temple? Their mothers are portrayed as typical stage mothers, demanding that their daughter get more time and attention. One of the little girls, who does happen to be rather talented and can actually do a pretty good job of mimicking Temple, has a very rich, handsome father played by Dennis Weaver. Weaver’s Lincoln Palmer is quite charming and suave (and just a touch suspicious), and seeing him on screen made me nostalgic for the days of McCloud on the NBC Mystery Movie. The great Agnes Moorehead appears briefly onscreen as Sister Alma, a radio evangelist who is quite clearly modeled after Aimee Semple McPherson. Most of her performance, though, is accomplished by having her voice on the radio that Helen listens to so intently. As the film progresses, Helen’s mental state deteriorates further, and when a strange man comes into their house uninvited and calls her by her actual name of Helen Hill, she descends into a murderous state of mind from which she seemingly cannot escape. The film’s macabre ending, which the movie’s poster weirdly gives away, certainly sticks with you as the credits begin to roll. Reynolds has claimed that this is one of her favorite roles, and she’s excellent because it calls for the use of both her dramatic talents and her dancing and singing abilities. Winters is less successful as Helen, but then again, she had almost become something of a parody of herself by this point, giving rather mannered and over-the-top performances that seemed to call attention to her scenery-chewing tics. What’s the Matter with Helen? was nominated for just one Oscar, Best Costume Design, but the overall production design is quite outstanding. It certainly conjures up images of 1930s Hollywood, even somewhat self-consciously copying the kinds of sets that movies from that era would have had. I doubt that Academy voters saw this film, and if they did, they likely didn’t give Reynolds much serious attention as a contender for Best Actress in a Leading Role, but that sadly seemed to be the case for her throughout her marvelous career: lots of great performances, only one nomination (for The Unsinkable Molly Brown).

Oscar Nomination: Best Costume Design

When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth (1971)

When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth is a surprising Oscar nominee. While the special effects for which it was nominated are certainly well done for the time period in which it was made, the rest of the film is rather a mess and too simplistic. The dinosaurs are intriguing examples of stop-motion animation, and it’s fun to watch them. This work isn’t at the level of Ray Harryhausen, to be honest, but it works within the context of the film. The plot involves a love story between a blonde named Sanna (played by Victoria Vetri, barely contained within her fur bikini), who escapes from an attempt by a tribe who lives on a mountainside to sacrifice her to the sun god, and a caveman named Tara (Robin Hawdon, tan and lean), who saves her when she falls into the ocean. Tara and the others on his raft take Sanna to where they live, a beach community. He tries to move Sanna into his beach hut, but his brunette girlfriend is insanely jealous of his attraction to the blonde woman. Tara and Sanna escape together and have to keep running away and hiding for much of the film, getting separated and reunited repeatedly. They also encounter a series of dinosaurs, including one that thinks Sanna is its mother, I think, and the actual dinosaur mother, who seems to think that Sanna is her baby. That’s a bit of a stretch by a writer, but coherence isn’t necessarily the script’s strongest attribute. For example, having dinosaurs and humans existing side-by-side is a historical anachronism, but we are willing to forgive a great deal for our entertainment. By the way, quite a bit of the plot is actually somewhat of a guess since the dialogue is not in English and there are no subtitles for the language they made up for the film. Some words become recognizable after repeated listening. For example, “neekro” (trying to spell these words correctly is rather futile) seems to mean “kill” as “kill her” or “kill him.” Akita (?) seems to be an all-purpose directional word: “come here” or “go there” or just “here” or “there.” None of the performers were famous, and none of them really became famous after this film was released, but it would be difficult to make a career on a film like this. But they are all relatively attractive and barely clothed, and this Hammer Studios production includes a couple of sex scenes that makes one puzzle how it received a G rating. Reportedly, Steven Spielberg was inspired by When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth to make his own dinosaur movie, Jurassic Park; there’s even a tribute to the earlier film near the end of the first Jurassic Park film. However, if you put the two films side-by-side, you’ll see just how remarkably far the technology progressed in only a couple of decades.

Oscar Nomination: Best Special Visual Effects

Summer of '42 (1971)

 

Summer of ’42 is a film told from the point of view of a 15-year-old boy just coming to terms with his first stirrings of sexual attraction and, maybe, love. That perhaps sounds prurient at first read, especially when you note that the object of his attentions is an older married woman, but in fact, it’s really quite a sensitive film that manages to avoid many of the stereotypes that might be associated with such a story. This success is primarily due to the casting of Gary Grimes as the lead character, Hermie, a young man living on an island for the summer with his parents and spending almost all of his time with his two best friends, Oscy (Jerry Houser, who has managed to have a long career as a character actor and voice artist) and Benjie (Oliver Conant). That is, until he begins to develop a relationship with Jennifer O’Neill’s Dorothy, a young wife whose husband has left her on the island to serve in World War II. Even though Hermie finds her fascinating within the first few minutes of the movie, it’s small moments later on—the simple act of helping her carry her groceries home or assisting her in moving some heavy boxes to the attic of her home—that cement his affection for her. It’s humorous to watch Hermie try to act mature when he’s around Dorothy; he's a dreamy, smart kid, but his attempts at more intellectual-sounding language make you smile. It helps that Grimes was actually 15 years old at the time of filming, so he can naturally convey the kind of naiveté and earnestness associated with boys his age. It’s kind of surprising that such a sensitive young actor like him didn’t have a longer career. Grimes’ interplay with the other young actors is strong as well. They don’t know very much about sex other than what they discover in a book filled with Latin terminology, which only makes it more confusing to them, but their conversations about how to engage in sex are hilarious. Equally fun is the sequence where Hermie tries to purchase condoms at a drugstore while Oscy watches from outside; it’s one of the best and most accurate depictions of the awkwardness teenage boys feel when making that initial purchase. Most of the subject matter of the film is handled rather delicately. For example, the sex scene between Hermie and Dorothy, after she learns that her husband has been killed in the war, is dialogue-free with only the sound of the waves crashing on the shore outside the bedroom window. That’s a cliché now, no doubt, but it would have seemed more romantic and gentle at the time of the film’s release. Overall, the film has many qualities that make it still worthy of attention. O’Neill, a former model, is stunningly beautiful, a natural object of affection for a young man, but she’s actually a good actress as well, able to play wordless moments with great empathy. The voice-over narration by director Robert Mulligan, is thankfully, rather unobtrusive, and the soft-focus cinematography creates somewhat hazy images throughout the film, a sense of fuzziness that could easily be linked to memories like those shared by the narrator. One of the best aspects of Summer of ’42 is its music, composed by the great Michel Legrand. The theme song, “The Summer Knows,” is magnificent, and the score deservedly won an Oscar. A couple of moments of gay taunts between Oscy and Hermie detract from the overall impact of the film, but I suppose they are consistent with the ways that teenage boys acted in 1971 when the film was made and probably even in 1942 when the film is set.

Oscar Win: Best Original Dramatic Score

Other Nominations: Best Story and Screenplay Based on Factual Material or Material Not Previously Published or Produced, Best Cinematography, and Best Film Editing

The Boyfriend (1971)

 

The Boy Friend, a musical directed by Ken Russell (a director you wouldn’t associated with typical musicals—or typical movies of any kind, really) attempts to juggle several different levels of plots, not always very successfully. However, rather than trying to reconcile the disparate sections of the movie in your mind, you might just want to concentrate upon the musical numbers and the strong performances by a couple of stars early in their careers. In the 1920s, a theatrical company is mounting a production of a musical entitled The Boy Friend. The female star of the musical is injured, and Polly, the assistant stage manager (played by Twiggy with a real sense of wide-eyed gameness), has to take over the role. A famous film producer is in the audience and will be observing the show, so there is pressure to do a good job. Unfortunately, the play is a disastrous production. Everyone really wants to impress the Hollywood producer, but the show itself doesn’t really help them to get the kind of attention they desire. On another level, there’s the stage musical itself, which plays out in sequence throughout the film’s frame story. Sometimes the onstage musical and the backstage events seem to blend smoothly, such as Polly’s crush on the leading man, Tony (the quite beautiful Christopher Gable), that mirrors her character’s crush on the character that Tony is playing. And, strangely, interspersed throughout the film is a series of fantasy sequences, including one that takes place on top of a record and another that involves elves. It’s tough not to like Busby Berkeley homages in musical films even though they can be very strange homages at times, to say the least, in The Boy Friend. Still, a couple of the performers demonstrate why they would have long careers. In her first major film, Twiggy has a true star turn as Polly. She turns out to be a pretty good dancer, and her ability to portray Polly’s conflicted emotions easily make her the heart of the film’s narrative. Tommy Tune, appearing in only his second feature film, demonstrates why he was/is one of the greatest tap dancers in the history of film (and theater). Tune doesn’t get a lot of screen time here compared to the leads, but what he does get are showcases for his talents. The remarkable Glenda Jackson shows up about an hour into the film to make a brief appearance, and the screen practically crackles with her presence. Overall, the film is a bit of a mess, and it might have been more effective had it followed the original play’s more old-fashioned structure.

Oscar Nomination: Best Scoring Adaptation and Original Song Score

Fiddler on the Roof (1971)

I cannot vouch for the authenticity of Fiddler on the Roof, a nominee in 1971 for Best Picture, but its depiction of Jewish life in pre-revolutionary Russia is pretty spectacular. You get a sense, if the depictions are accurate (or even if they are just close), of what life must have been like for the peasants at that time. And, to go with it, you get some glorious songs, great singing and dancing, and a moral or two about the universal need to fall in love and be with the person you truly love.

The focus of the story is Tevye (played by Topol), a milkman with five daughters and a frustrated but sharp-tongued wife, Golde (played by Norma Crane). Much of the film deals with attempts to find suitable husbands for the couple's daughters; this is sort of a different take on the events of Pride and Prejudice, really. However, the daughters have other plans. When, for example, the matchmaker Yente shows up to say that she has found the perfect match for the oldest daughter (Tzeitel), Tevye and Golde have to contend with Tzeitel's earlier but secret pledge to marry the poor tailor, Motel. Motel is played by Leonard Frey, who is light years away from the character he played in The Boys in the Band.

Similar situations occur with two other daughters, much to the initial dismay of their parents. However, the film (and the musical upon which it was based) is so life-affirming and love-affirming. Tevye has several scenes where he is forced to rethink his way of understanding situations. This is all the more ironic given the opening number of "Tradition," in which he espouses a need to hold fast to the way things have always been done. Of course, hardly anything gets done in the traditional way during the course of the film, but that is perhaps the point. We have to grow and adapt and adjust.

You've undoubtedly heard many of the songs already, and there are some great ones here: "Matchmaker," "If I Were a Rich Man," "To Life," "Sunrise Sunset" (still such a moving song), and one of my favorites, "Do You Love Me?" That last song is sung between Tevye and Golde, who are only now realizing after 25 years of marriage and five children that they do, indeed, love each other. I was also moved by "Far from the Home I Love," sung by Hodel (Michele Marsh) to her father before she boards a train that will take her to her husband in Siberia. You'd have to be a very hard-hearted person not to feel some strong emotions in that moment.

The dancing is first-rate, particularly in the extended wedding sequence. The bottle dancers are just astounding. If you have seen the film, you know what I mean. If not, you should rent it just to see them. Don't worry; you'll certainly figure out who they are. There's also a pretty amazing sequence earlier in the film involving male Jewish and Russian dancers having a sort of "dance-off."

As a backdrop to all of the scenes of day-to-day peasant life and romance and such are the rumors of pogroms being carried out against various other Jewish villages in tsarist Russia. A "demonstration" at Tzeitel and Motel's wedding is the first direct sign of what is in store for the village. It is only at the end of the film that the Russians' plans for the Jews are made clear, yet the villagers pack up and plan for their futures in new places, including America. Even in the midst of tremendous degradation, they still are able to find a sense of hope. While it may sound like a happy ending, it's truly more of a melancholy one. You may have a sense that all will turn out okay, but you are still saddened by the depths to which people have sunk over the years to belittle their fellow human beings.

The French Connection (1971)

The winner of the Oscar for Best Picture of 1971, The French Connection is a very taut, suspenseful movie. It fairly crackles with intensity. I found it to be one of the most compelling movies I'd ever seen. Everything about this movie is first-rate. I'm only sorry that I'd never managed to see it before now.

Two cops, played by Gene Hackman and Roy Scheider, sort of stumble upon a huge drug smuggling operation (with a connection to a French smuggler, as the title suggests), all due to their stake-out of a tiny candy store run by suspected drug dealers. The movie tracks the attempts by the cops to find how the drugs are coming into New York and who is responsible for the shipment. There's an amazing car chase sequence involving the elevated trains of the city (quite a spectacular series of images) and a "tailing" of a suspect that goes on for quite some time, building in intensity as the viewer wonders if the cops can keep up with the suspect. The film also features several "interrogation" sequences, including one in a bar populated by African Americans that results in Scheider's Buddy being beaten up. A lot of what happens is the result of the instincts that Hackman's cop has developed throughout many years in the city, and of course, those same instincts are repeatedly questioned by his superiors. He's been too much of a rebellious part of the force to be trusted fully.

Hackman is amazing, a tough guy cop with an aggression that you can see verging out of control almost all the time. Scheider has the quieter role, certainly, but he acts as fine counterpoint to Hackman's Popeye Doyle. Both men are unusual choices for lead roles--you'd think Hollywood would have kept them forever in supporting or character parts--but they truly shine here.

I won't talk about the final sequence, in case you haven't yet seen the movie. But it's a doozy. All of the movies about cops and dope smugglers and crime-ridden areas owe The French Connection an enormous debt. This is one of the best movies of the 1970s, an era that attempted to bring a sense of realism back to film.