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Showing posts with label Oliver Reed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Oliver Reed. Show all posts

Thursday, December 2, 2021

TEN LITTLE INDIANS (1974)

Lom, Frobe, Attenborough, Reed and Sommer
TEN LITTLE INDIANS (1974). Director: Peter Collinson. 

Several people receive invitations to an empty luxury hotel built in the Iranian desert near some ruins. While there they learn that their unknown host has assembled them for past misdeeds and an unseen killer strikes at them one by one, the murders related in some way to a nursery rhyme. Eventually the rapidly-dwindling group comes to realize that the murderer is one of their own. Paranoia sets in as the deaths continue and everyone falls under suspicion. 

Unlikely lovers: Elke Sommer and Oliver Reed
This is the second of three versions of Agatha Christie's venerable story that was produced by Harry Alan Towers, who would seemingly produce any piece of shit if he thought he could turn a profit. At least he has assembled an interesting cast in this misfire: Richard Attenborough as the judge; Elke Sommer and Oliver Reed [The Shuttered Room] as the unlikeliest pair of young lovers ever; Stephane Audran as the actress who may have murdered her husband; two Bond villains -- Gert Frobe of Goldfinger and Adolfo Celi of Thunderball -- as, respectively, a detective and a general; French entertainer Charles Aznavour as the drunken first victim; Herbert Lom [Mysterious Island] as Dr. Armstrong, and no less than Orson Welles as the voice of the host. 

The most notable things about this production are the settings and the cinematography of Fernando Arribas. The musical score is atrocious, and the clumsily-directed film -- there are way too many long shots and the murder scenes are devoid of elan -- has virtually no tension or suspense. The acting is generally good, with Attenborough coming off the best. Towers had one more version of the story to go. 

Verdict: Another tax write-off for Towers. **. 

Friday, October 30, 2020

THE SHUTTERED ROOM

 

THE SHUTTERED ROOM (1967). Director: David Greene. 

This is an oddball adaptation of an H.P. Lovecraft story that basically removes the supernatural element! Mike Kelton (Gig Young) brings his young bride Susannah (Carol Lynley) back to the island off New England and the mill house she grew up in and inherited. But there's a sinister lurking presence waiting in the house ... Actually more menace is generated by Oliver Reed and his gang of inbred laughing thugs than by anything else. A scene when they tie up Young, leave him on the roadside, and repeatedly race up to his body in their car and stop just short of smashing him is harrowing and well-executed. Reed gives the most vivid performance, but the others are fine, including Flora Robson as Aunt Agatha. This is one of those movies where if everyone just acted logically there would be no danger and no plot. There are eerie scenes and Greene's direction has its good points -- some people found it "arty" -- but this could not be classified as one of the better or more faithful Lovecraft adaptations were it not for the fact that so many others were much worse. The jazzy background score is no help at all. 

Verdict: Despite flaws it holds the attention and has its moments but it's only minimal Lovecraft. **1/2.