In Memoriam: Christopher Lee

“It’s a paradox of success that when it comes one often begins to wish it had taken some other form. I was more than happy to borrow the shoes of Chaney and Lugosi and Karloff and Rathbone and Veidt… At the same time, I didn’t want the shoes to wear me.”

– Christopher Lee (excerpted from his autobiography Tall, Dark and Gruesome)

“…I did feel sometimes that the industry went too far in its preference for midgets. To me anybody under six foot is a midget. The reader is more than likely a midget. I am surrounded by midgets. Their midgetry is enviable.” – Christopher Lee (ibid)

Perhaps I could be forgiven for believing Christopher Lee to be invincible, considering his storied history and prolific work ethic. When I heard of his passing last week at the age of 93, his death seemed almost untimely. So much has already been said about his World War II exploits and myriad talents outside of acting that I see no reason to repeat them here. There are plenty of places where you can read about and marvel at his impressive resume. Instead, I prefer to reflect on what he meant to me.

The first time Lee entered my consciousness was as kid during the late ‘70s, staying up past my bedtime to watch his appearance on Saturday Night Live. What resonated most was his comedy sketch with Gilda Radner, as Death sat down with a little girl to explain why he had to take life. Later in the show, he introduced the performer Meatloaf with the gravity typically reserved for introducing heads of state. At that point, I knew Lee was a man who commanded respect, and his name was forever embossed on my brain. I gradually discovered his impressive filmography over the years. His commanding presence could render a bad film watchable, and elevate a mediocre film to loftier heights. Even if he detested the material, as in the latter Hammer Dracula outings, he always remained the consummate professional.   

Lee considered it a blessing and a curse that he would be forever associated with his work for Hammer Films, especially for his ruthless, sensual, animalistic interpretation of Dracula. His Dracula was Karloff, Lugosi and Price rolled into one; at once eloquent and debonair, possessing an old-world charm, but ready to strike like a feral beast. Although he was frequently typecast as the villain, he was more than the sum of his monster roles. Once in a while, Lee was permitted to break out of the mold, and stretch his acting chops in underrated roles such as Sir Henry Baskerville, or the enigmatic Grigori Rasputin. It’s ironic that Lee was cast as the assassin Scaramanga in The Man with the Golden Gun, when he was once considered to play James Bond (a role he was arguably born to play). Lee was re-purposed in the ‘90s and ‘00s in roles that bordered on self-parody, although he was certainly in on the joke. Joe Dante employed him for Gremlins 2 as Dr. Catheter, enabling him to take a comic turn on his more sinister roles. Tim Burton cast Lee as characters that celebrated his roles of yesteryear, as in Sleepy Hollow and even Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (Who else, but Lee could utter the world “caramel” with such menace?) George Lucas and Peter Jackson later cast him in straightforward villainous roles, representing a return to form. Regardless of the many transgressions of the Star Wars prequels, Lee was a welcome presence as the shadowy Count Dooku, and only he was capable of conveying Saruman with such malevolence.

The term “living legend” is often casually thrown about for any actor who reaches a sufficient age, but in Christopher Lee’s case, he earned it. He was a man truly larger than life. In reference to the second quote above, I suspect anyone, regardless of physical height, would have appeared small in stature compared to the great Sir Lee. As a lifelong film fan and genre enthusiast, I feel as if I lost a great friend and guide into a different era of filmmaking when professionalism and craftsmanship mattered. The world of cinema has lost an irreplaceable treasure, a gentleman’s gentleman. We’re fortunate, however, that Lee has left behind a formidable legacy of film roles, which could easily take a lifetime to fully explore.

Jaws 2

(1978) Directed by Jeannot Szwarc; Written by: Carl Gottlieb and Howard Sackler; Starring: Roy Scheider, Lorraine Gary, Murray Hamilton and Jeffrey Kramer; Available on DVD.

Rating: **½

“I kept saying from the beginning, we must show the shark a lot. Because that image of the shark coming out of the water for the first time, it’s already happened. That is never going to happen again.” – Jeannot Swarc

A huge thanks goes out to Kristina of Speakeasy and Ruth of Silver Screenings, for hosting the Beach Party Blogathon, a five-day celebration of surf, sand and summer at the movies. I’m honored to be invited to the party. Don’t worry; I brought a cooler full of assorted beverages, and extra sunblock in case anyone forgot. While we’re on the subject of memory loss, I re-visited the mostly forgettable follow-up to Steven Spielberg’s 1975’s mega-blockbuster, Jaws, appropriately titled, Jaws 2 (Warning: multiple nautical puns abound).

Producers David Brown and Richard Zanuck considered several different directors for Jaws 2, including Spielberg. Ultimately, John Hancock (Bang the Drum Slowly) was selected, but left the project early on, due to creative differences. Jeannot Szwarc, a veteran director of many television projects (including several Night Gallery episodes) and the William Castle flick Bug, stepped in to helm the film. Shooting took place in Martha’s Vineyard, Florida and Catalina Island in California.  

It’s undeniably fun to see many of the actors from the first movie reprise their characters, especially Roy Scheider as the unshakable Police Chief Brody. Lorraine Gary returns in the thankless role of Brody’s wife, Ellen. Unfortunately, she doesn’t really have much to do this time, except stand by her husband for support. Once again, Murray Hamilton appears as Mayor Vaughn (why he wasn’t voted out by now, is anyone’s guess), still arguing to keep the beach open when Brody suspects another great white shark is patrolling the waters around Amity. Jeffrey Kramer also continues his role as Deputy Hendricks. While it’s a kick to see these supporting characters return, it’s a shame the script does little to expand on the original roles. As a result, the new scenes almost feel like outtakes from the 1975 film.

Scheider does a laudable job as Brody, although Szwarc confessed Scheider wasn’t initially enthusiastic about revisiting the role. Regardless of his behind-the-scenes apprehensions, Scheider settles back into the character well, and seeing Chief Brody again is like spending time with an old friend. He still carries his big city, world-weary cynicism around like a second sidearm, and despite the fact that he lives on an island, he’s still harboring (Get it? “Harboring?” Yeah, this review is rough.) a fear of the water. This time around, he’s the boy who cried shark, when he suspects Amity has another big problem on its hands. In one scene, he flips out when he thinks he spots the dreaded Carcharodon carcharias, and creates a panic on the beach. Naturally Mayor Vaughn and the town council don’t take too kindly to the false alarm. Of course, we (and Brody) know the real creature still lurks somewhere.

As much as Brody is welcome in Jaws 2, there’s a conspicuous absence of the two characters that made the original film a classic, Quint and Hooper. Brody is the perfect foil for these larger than life individuals, an everyman the audience can relate to. If Brody was Jaws’ heart, then Quint was its soul, embodying a profound respect for the unforgiving nature of sharks. Hooper helped imbue the film with a sense of wonder, tempered by a sense of humor. Without this dynamic between the three men, or other colorful characters to play off of Brody, Jaws 2 seems a hollow, perfunctory exercise. 

Arguably, the greatest concern with Jaws 2 is the treatment of its main attraction. In the former film, the shark took on mythical proportions, becoming an almost unstoppable, barely seen force of nature. The tone is established with the brilliant, visceral opening when a lone swimmer is attacked by an unseen menace, rising from the inky depths of the ocean. What ensues is a tense battle between man and nature. No single scene in Jaws 2 can compare to the poetry of Jaws’ little moments, which build the mystique of the ocean predator: Brody flipping through pages of grisly depictions of shark attacks, a shot of the Orca framed by shark jaws, or Quint’s show-stopping monologue about the U.S.S. Indianapolis victims. All of these scenes add up, elevating Jaws above your run-of-the-mill creature feature. The filmmakers dispense with the original’s “less is more” approach, favoring “more is more.” By attempting to top the original attacks with increasingly implausible situations (the aquatic beast tackles a water skier, and later takes down a rescue helicopter), the shark becomes just another monster. It all leads up to a ho-hum confrontation between the antagonist and a bunch of goofy adolescents on sailboats (including Brody’s two sons).  

Depending on what side of the shark cage you’re on, Jaws 2 was either one of the most anticipated, or unnecessary sequels of all time. By not rocking the boat, so to speak, the filmmakers delivered a competent, if unremarkable second chapter. In the film’s defense, probably no follow-up could have lived up to the unreasonably high expectations set by Jaws. Maybe that’s why the follow-up seems more like a feature-length dénouement than a brand new installment of a franchise. Szwarc, to his credit, did a workmanlike job with the hand he was dealt, and moves things at a good pace. John Williams’ score doesn’t sound as if he was simply going through the motions, but instead builds upon his previous work, incorporating the ubiquitous “Jaws” theme, and expanded the overall scope. Another high point is Scheider’s nuanced performance as Brody, slipping into the role again like a comfortable pair of slippers, which almost, but not quite, saves the movie. However, if you lower your expectations a notch, Jaws 2 is reasonably entertaining. It’s certainly worth a look for completists and Brodyphiles (Is that even a thing?), but casual fans might be better served watching another 1978 film that beat the Jaws sequel at its own game for less than a 20^th of the budget, the Roger Corman-produced/Joe Dante-directed Piranha. Or better still, this could be the perfect time to re-watch the 1975 original.

I Am Legend Redux

“…He could still see them out there, the white-faced men prowling around his house, looking ceaselessly for a way to get in at him. Some of them, probably, crouching on their haunches, like dogs, eyes glittering at the house, teeth slowly grating together; back and forth, back and forth.” – from I Am Legend, by Richard Matheson

(Caution: Some spoilers lie ahead, so proceed with caution.)

Richard Matheson’s classic 1954 post-apocalyptic novel I Am Legend chronicles one man’s attempt to endure after a global plague has wiped out most of humanity, and turned the remaining population into vampires. While the humanoids roam the streets at night looking for blood, Robert Neville stays barricaded in his personal fortress, along with the last trappings of a dead civilization. During the day, Neville turns the tables on the nocturnal predators, by locating their hiding places and destroying them.  

Aside from the vampires, Neville’s biggest adversaries are isolation, depression and the hopelessness of being the last human (presumably) on the planet. He was powerless to save his family as they succumbed to the plague; now he labors to find a cure for what might remain of the human populace. But his efforts are too little, too late. The world has moved on, with a third human/vampire hybrid species poised to assume dominance. They represent the future – a future that has no use for Neville, or humankind as it once existed.

So far, three versions of the novel have been filmed, although we probably won’t have long to wait until another movie attempts to adapt the material for a new audience. How do the existing versions measure up?

The Last Man on Earth (aka: The Damned Walk at Midnight) (1964) Directed by Ubaldo Ragona; Written by William F. Leicester, Logan Swanson (aka: Richard Matheson), Ubaldo Ragona and Furio M. Monetti; Starring: Vincent Price, Franca Bettoia, Emma Danieli and Giacomo Rossi Stuart; Available on DVD

Rating: ****

This Italian-American co-production is the most faithful adaptation of Matheson’s novel to date. Vincent Price stars as Dr. Robert Morgan (for some reason, the writers decided to change his last name from Neville). He’s on a one-man crusade to rid the world of vampires created by a plague that devastated the human race. He ventures outside to scavenge for supplies and hunt the nocturnal creatures by day, and hides inside his fortified house at night. He spends his days creating wooden stakes, hanging garlic and mirrors, and searching for a cure for the disease.

Price captures the isolation and despair of Matheson’s protagonist. His tragic past is told in flashback, as he loses his wife and daughter to an unstoppable plague. His former friend and co-worker, turned walking dead, Ben Cortman (Giacomo Rossi Stuart) taunts him (“Come out, Morgan”), and remains a constant reminder of the world that vanished.

The filmmakers retain the simplicity of the original story, keeping the main character front and center, as our guide to a nightmarish landscape. The film retains the novel’s plot twist, as well as its bleak ending. We’re left with little solace for Morgan and his plight. Humanity, as it existed, is gone and a new species is about to take its place. Not only is The Last Man on Earth closest to the spirit of the source material, it sets the standard for subsequent remakes.

The Omega Man (1971) Directed by Boris Sagal; Written by Joyce Hooper Corrington and John William Corrington; Starring: Charlton Heston, Rosalind Cash, Anthony Zerbe and Paul Koslo; Available on Blu-ray and DVD

Rating: ***½

Charlton Heston stars as Dr. Robert Neville, one of the last individuals left alive after a world-wide plague. Thanks to a self-administered injection of serum, he’s immune to the disease. He continues his research in his personal fortress/arsenal, safe from the attacks of nocturnal mutants. Although The Omega Man was released seven years later, it seems more dated, compared to its predecessor, with its multiple late ‘60s/early ‘70s pop culture references. Also, we never learn about Neville’s past, and the mutants are portrayed in more black and white terms. But Heston creates a memorable performance, as Neville tries to maintain his sanity and decorum (watch him sporting some groovy threads that would make Austin Powers jealous). His dialogue with himself is funny and poignant. Rosalind Cash is also appealing as the plucky human survivor Lisa.

Co-writer Joyce Hooper Corrington stated she chose to stray from the original novel’s concept of vampires, instead, focusing on a man-made plague and the consequences of biological warfare. While most of the world’s population was killed outright, some humans remain, along with a horde of vengeful albino mutants. Led by the charismatic zealot Matthias (Anthony Zerbe), they vow to rid the world of the last vestiges of the old society, including technology, books and artwork.

The film’s ending, involving a blatant Christ-figure allegory, strays from the original’s conclusion, and provides a glimmer of hope for humanity. A serum derived from Neville’s blood holds the key to fighting the plague. The few human survivors leave for a mountain retreat, away from the mutant-infested city, and off to an uncertain future.

I Am Legend (2007) Directed by: Francis Lawrence; Written by: Mark Protosevich and Akiva Goldsman; Starring: Will Smith, Alice Braga, Charlie Tahan, Salli Richardson-Whitfield and Willow Smith; Available on Blu-ray and DVD

Rating: *** 

The third version of Richard Matheson’s novel experienced a long, torturous road to production. At one time Arnold Schwarzenegger was attached to star and produce, with Ridley Scott directing, but the project failed to materialize. Nearly 40 years after The Omega Man, a new version of the venerable novel finally surfaced, with Will Smith in the lead role as Robert Neville. While Smith might not have been an obvious choice, he does a commendable job inhabiting the role, as a man tortured over the loss of his family, and continuing his work to find a cure. The film includes some obvious nods to The Omega Man, with Neville carrying on conversations with mannequins and racing through abandoned city streets (in this instance, Los Angeles is replaced by New York) in a new Mustang.

As in The Omega Man, the plague was created by us. Instead of biological warfare, however, the plague was a byproduct of a virus intended to cure cancer. Most of the world’s remaining population consists of nocturnal sub-human creatures. Neville continues his experiments using the creatures as guinea pigs. The weakest aspect of the film is its treatment of Neville’s adversaries. Instead of an organized faction, they’re feral, barely intelligent, and loosely organized. In contrast to the other two films, the creatures are rendered in sub-standard CGI, and appear alike with no discernible personalities or distinguishing features to tell them apart. As a result, the audience has no sympathy for the creatures. We see little reason for their existence, except as video game monsters for the hero to destroy.

Although the finished product is clearly the result of Hollywood meddling and corporate interests (even though it’s after the apocalypse, product plugs still abound), there’s still room for some introspection. In one scene, Neville and another human survivor (Alice Braga) debate science versus faith, with both viewpoints receiving ample respect. Unfortunately, the filmmakers hedge their bets (and dilute Matheson’s novel in the process), with a forced hopeful ending, as if they feared the commercial ramifications of audiences leaving on a downbeat note.