Rupert Pupkin Speaks: November 2018 ""

Friday, November 30, 2018

Underrated '78 - Ira Brooker


Mardi Gras Massacre (Directed by Jack Weis)


Amazon Button (via

The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith (Directed by Fred Schepisi)

Amazon Button (via

China 9, Liberty 37 (Directed by Monte Hellman)


Amazon Button (via

Rings of Fear (Directed by Alberto Negrin)


The Uranium Conspiracy (Directed by Menahem Golan)


Amazon Button (via

Cat in the Cage (Directed by Tony Zarindast)

Amazon Button (via

Magnum Cop (Directed by Stelvio Massi)


The Bloodstained Shadow (Directed by Antonio Bido)
Amazon Button (via

The War of the Robots (Directed by Alfonso Brescia)
Amazon Button (via

Thursday, November 29, 2018

Underrated '78 - John Cribbs


Check out his Underrated '98 list here:
and Underrated '88 here:

Debuting in 1978: Halloween. Martin. Blue Collar. The Driver. The Fury. The Marriage of Maria Braun. The Silent Partner. Gates of Heaven. American Hot Wax. The Star Wars Holiday Special. And me. I debuted that year, and reviews were mixed: most viewers damned me with faint praise, "Cute but smelly and kinda stupid." Not sure if I deserve reappraisal 40 years later, but these movies definitely do.

Remember My Name (dir: Alan Rudolph)
This one's come up on quite a few lists in this series, can we officially crown it Most Underrated Film of 1978? It's either this or THE SILENT PARTNER, and since NAME hasn't even earned itself a DVD release to date (most of us have to wait for it to turn up on the TCM schedule) I'd say its legacy has depreciated slightly more than that of the similarly neglected Canadian bank robbery classic. There's a reason Alan Rudolph's film failed to gain an audience 40 years ago, and it's the same reason it deserves to be seen today: it's intentionally elusive, impenetrable in a lot of ways, asking us to connect with an emotionally unstable character who's potentially very dangerous. The L.A. Rudolph presents is one of wonder and sadness, full of beautiful banalities and casual cruelties upon which he unleashes a volatile avenger in Geraldine Chaplin's calculating ex-con. Her Emily is the whole show: weaving in and out of social quagmires and sexual politics, instantly rejected by everyone she meets, she responds by making sure they won't forget her. This desperate insistence on her own existence is almost achingly relatable; on the other hand, it comes from a place of selfishness and anger that nobody could easily identify with and as a viewer you're constantly unsure as to how you're supposed to respond. The beauty, as Brian said, is in the watching of it. REMEMBER MY NAME is to classic Hollywood female melodramas what THE LONG GOODBYE is to classic Hollywood detective yarns, a reappropriation of something in which moviegoers find comfort made compellingly uncomfortable - that's why we remember this movie.

The Whole Shootin' Match (dir: Eagle Pennell)
In Eagle Pennell's Austin-based indie we find another unlikable character you still can't help but root for in Frank, a deadbeat husband who drinks, cheats on his sweet wife and has no problem belting his kid after a long day of well-earned failure. He does nothing productive but tag along with best buddy Loyd, who leads the duo into several quirky enterprises from polyurethane spraying to inventing a revolutionary mop. It's this friendship with Loyd, sitting around sketching out inventions on the inside of a pizza box and fantasizing about Indian gold hidden in the hills (he's played with irresitible swagger by the great Lou Perryman), that largely redeems Frank: the notion that maybe two fuck-ups equal one success story sits in the peripherals of the entire film. Following them around on their misadventures, Pennell finds unexpected poignancy in car washes, dousing rods and washroom discussions about how 'rhythm' can prevent pregnancy, the proceedings accompanied by a delightful banjo & harmonica-heavy score and the ambient droning of radio OKC evangelist 'Brother Bob.' Considered a classic among the Texas film scene (it supposedly inspired Linklater to pick up a camera), SHOOTIN' MATCH stands as a forerunner to the hopeless blue collar dreamers of MELVIN AND HOWARD while the film's long takes in attractively economic black & white anticipate the ones in STRANGER THAN PARADISE.

Warriors Two and Enter the Fat Dragon (dir: Sammo Hung)
If there's a conversation about the greatest year for kung fu movies, the standing defender would have to be 1978. Just step back and look at it: DRUNKEN MASTER, FIVE DEADLY VENOMS, CRIPPLED AVENGERS, INVINCIBLE SHAOLIN, HEROES OF THE EAST and THE 36TH CHAMBER OF THE SHAOLIN, to name only a few legendary releases. Sammo Hung almost single-handedly seals the deal, since on top of the ELEVEN movies he worked on that year, he directed and starred in two outstanding ones, WARRIORS TWO and ENTER THE FAT DRAGON.

Sort of a dress rehearsal for Hung's THE PRODIGAL SON (both films are revered for their accurate use of Wing Chun style), WARRIORS TWO is an epic martial arts movie in its own right. Featuring wall-to-wall action with moves like the Hand-Tying Running Hammer, the One-Inch Power, the unmovable Goat Stance and "Sticky Hands," designed to beat an opponent's reactions to the brain, its highlights include Bryan "Beardy" Leung (who's also in FAT DRAGON) fighting off baddies WHILE HIS FOOT IS STUCK IN A BEAR TRAP and Sammo in a six-sword melee that has to be seen to be believed. As usual, Hung is innovative in front and behind the scenes (at one point he has a guy fall crotch-first into the camera!) and seasons the kung fu mania with high concept physical comedy, one example being a full-length blind-folded fight (Sammo's character cheats, of course).

FAT DRAGON is an even more interesting venture. GAME OF DEATH, the largest and most reputable of Bruceploitation efforts (given that footage of Bruce from an unfinished project were edited into the movie), had been released internationally by Golden Harvest in June. Hung was the fight coordinator and action director of GAME's newly-shot, non-Bruce sequences using stand-ins (including Hung's Peking Opera School brother Yuen Biao) which straddle the line of homage and grave-robbing. Possibly feeling a tinge of guilt over this, Hung released ENTER THE FAT DRAGON in July, casting himself as a pig farmer/Bruce fan who takes it upon himself to beat the shit out of a Bruce Lee imitator on a movie set and declaring, "He's my hero - you're nothing like him!" There's much more to love about the film, with Hung channeling the spirit of the Little Dragon to defeat a gang of kidnappers, but this moment of reflection on the Hong Kong action market is what makes it surprisingly profound.

The Demon (dir: Yoshitaro Nomura)
THE DEMON came recommended as a Japanese horror movie, so imagine my surprise to find not a single demon (at least not of the yokai variety) in the entire film. But it's a horror movie for sure, one of the most disturbing I've ever seen. Finding herself cut off financially and fed up in general, a single mother of three drops her children at the doorstep of their alleged father (Ken Ogata, setting off a series of incredible roles that would include three collaborations with Shohei Imamura and playing Mishima for Paul Schrader) and then promptly disappears. Already overwhelmed by the demands of his print shop and bullied by his spiteful wife, Ogata turns to some truly horrific measures to deal with this fresh inconvenience. Fair warning: this movie pulls no punches in dealing with the callous mistreatment of children and neglecting of familial responsibility that suggests modern civilization hasn't progressed far from the survival-first days of old. Hard as it is to watch, it's a tour de force from the prolific Yoshitaro Nomura, who started his career as an assistant director for Kurosawa. The American DVD art for DEMON even evokes IKIRU, but make no mistake: there's no bittersweet, life-affirming sentiment to be gleaned from this film, only a cold unfeeling pit the viewer follows Ogata down, not realizing there's no bottom. (p.s. It's really good!)

Out (dir: Jim Goddard)
Cheating here, not a movie, just a really fantastic Thames Television series that only ran one season and deserves to be on a list of greatest British crime stories right next to GET CARTER, THE LONG GOOD FRIDAY and THE HIT. It's your standard plot of a crook being released from the nick after an 8-year stint determined to find the man who grassed him out, but it fends off cliche thanks to the strong central performance from Tom Bell as verbal, vengeful thug Frank Ross and the unsentimental southern London location shooting by Goddard (who also directed half the excellent Sam Neill miniseries REILLY, ACE OF SPIES; Martin Campbell directed the other half). Frank finds himself spun around in cultural shock of late 70's London as he attempts to reconcile with his estranged family and match wits with crime boss Brian Cox. If you love THE LIMEY, you'll love this six-part series.

The Mongreloid (dir: George Kuchar)
Patrons of the gone-but-not-forgotten Kim's Video will probably remember their "Color Me Lurid" bootleg vhs of George Kuchar's iconic experimental short HOLD ME WHILE I'M NAKED. The tape included other surprises, one of them being the filmmaker's valentine to beloved dog Bocko, infused with his typically captivating use of color, devious incorporating of showtunes and novelty songs on the soundtrack and a steady dose of the man's trademark eccentric personality (also a cameo by Curt McDowell, director of THUNDERCRACK!, who created the painting of the mongreloid seen in the credits). Kuchar reminisces with Bocko over cherished memories as trivial as when they once got off a train so his pal could take "a cocky in Ogden, Utah!" and it's never less than fascinating to see how an avant garde director films his pet; an ideal double-feature would be Stan Brakhage's SIRIUS REMEMBERED. Yes, most of the 10 minute runtime is a man doting over his dog, but when that man is George Kuchar we're talking about 10 of the most charming and tender minutes ever captured on Super-8. I'd call this the best dog-based film of 1978, which is saying something considering it was the year of Curtis Harrington's unforgettable TV movie DEVIL DOG: THE HOUND FROM HELL.

Money Movers (dir: Bruce Beresford)
Few things are as genuinely bewildering as Bruce Beresford's strange filmography. The man's dropped enough masterpieces with BREAKER MORANT, TENDER MERCIES, MISTER JOHNSON and BLACK ROBE to be considered one of the all time greats, yet his legacy is centered around the dispensable awards whore DRIVING MISS DAISY. And that's before you even start to notice dreck like KING DAVID, HER ALIBI and LAST DANCE littered throughout his career. It's not like Alan Rudolph, whose strengths and weaknesses share a pasture - Beresford moves from maestro to hack from one film to the next. Who is this guy?

Well before any of that, he was the director of what is possibly the greatest armored car heist movie of all time. And we're talking stiff competition: SECOND BREATH, CRISS CROSS, KANSAS CITY CONFIDENTIAL, ARMORED CAR ROBBERY, HARLEY DAVIDSON AND THE MARLBORO MAN. Plotwise, it's probably most accurate to say it's like a gritty, Australian version of THE LAVENDER HILL MOB, its inside job being orchestrated by employees of the security company tasked to protect the $20 million sitting in the firm's vault. Double-crosses, corrupt cops, kidnappings and horrific torture scenes keep things moving, but the real thing to appreciate is the equal detail given to the plotting of the caper from within the firm as well as the plot to try and foil it. Friedkin-esque in its quick-cutting and unflinching depiction of violence, this movie remains frustratingly underseen compared to most Hollywood heist dramas even though it goes toe-to-toe with the best of them (that's a joke for people who've seen the movie). MAD MAX may have been the film to explode the Australian film industry across the world, but MONEY MOVERS is the silent masterpiece of the country and the year.

Wednesday, November 28, 2018

Underrated '78 - James David Patrick

James David Patrick is a writer with a lifelong moviewatching habit. His current projects include #Bond_age_, the James Bond Social Media Project ( and Cinema Shame ( Follow him on Twitter at @007hertzrumble.

I initially thought this would be a short list. I have a lot of favorites from 1978, but none of them felt slept upon. "It'll be nice to toss this together in short order," I thought. Alas. By the time I'd given the list another pass, I wound up with this mismatched assortment of pleasant eccentricities from the year of my birth.

The Silent Partner (Daryl Duke, 1978)
A Santa Claus with a gun robs bank teller Miles at a bank in a Toronto mall. Instead of immediately alerting the police, Miles figures out how to pocket some of the cash for himself. When the suspect learns that he's been accused of stealing more money than he actually pocketed, he realizes he's been had and launches a campaign of violence and intimidation to retrieve the rest of the loot.

Wacko Christopher Plummer takes on Schleppy Elliott Gould, sociopathic bank robber vs. everyman bank teller. Only in the 1970's could a movie wander in and out of genres like stores in a mall. This gritty Canadian tax shelter production, written by Curtis Hanson (Wonder Boys, L.A. Confidential), serves a twisty yarn with a killer payoff. Shocking flashes of gore and a bevy of nudity causes this to slip into exploitation territory. Crazy Chris Plummer stabs a fish and severs a head and that's not even the half of it.
Amazon Button (via

I Wanna Hold Your Hand (Robert Zemeckis, 1978)
I don't know if Robert Zemeckis' debut feature is underseen or underrated. It's modestly seen and generally rated, but I think there are still a large number of well-versed movie fans that believe Zemeckis' career began with Used Cars (1980).

One crazy day in the life of six teenagers who drive to New York City on the morning February 9, 1964 to witness the Beatles' first appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show. Rosie and Grace worship the Beatles. Pam just wants exclusive pictures. Folk-music loving Janis believes the Beatles to be empty commercialism. So does Tony, for entirely different reasons. Larry just has a car. Robert Zemeckis and Bob Gale turn one of the most consecrated pop-culture moments into a study of fame, friendship, obsession, and the possibilities of future beyond high school.

I Wanna Hold Your Hand is at heart a teen comedy, but it's also an earnest love letter to a particular moment in time. Nancy Allen's terrific as the skeptical and button-up Pam, and it's her journey from Beatles immunity to attempted copulation with Paul's bass guitar that gives the film its emotional anchor as the insanity orbits the Ed Sullivan Theater.
Amazon Button (via

The Big Fix (Jeremy Kagan, 1978)
Ambling, organic-feeling detective tale starring Richard Dreyfuss as Moses Wine, a recovered 1960's activist turned jaded private eye who's trying to track down the author of a doctored, politically motivated flier. Deceptively small stakes turn big as Moses digs deeper and uncovers a disgusting political underbelly.

A great cast (Bonnie Bedelia, John Lithgow, F. Murray Abraham turn up in supporting roles) and paced direction and character development present a mystery that's as much about the actual whodunit as it is Moses Wine coming to terms with his own post-revolution disillusionment. This underseen gem in the Dreyfuss filmography might get overlooked since it dropped in theaters immediately after a run that featured Jaws (1975), Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977) and The Goodbye Girl (1977).
Amazon Button (via

The Bloodstained Shadow (Antonio Bido, 1978)
Antonio Bido's The Bloodstained Shadow (aka Solamente Nero) recalls Lucio Fulci's Don't Torture A Ducking in that in focuses on the crimes committed within an insular society. Where Fulci goes bombastic to unearth the message in his film, however, Bido peels back layers with tweezers.


The Bloodstained Shadow has such awkward pacing that you'll forget for long stretches that what you're watching is supposed to be a horror film. Normally, I'd use that very same line as a complaint. In this instance, however, Bido so effectively deploys exotic cityscape cinematography an score (by Stelvio Cipriani and mixed and re-recorded by Goblin) that the languid pacing feels more like a strength. The film has plenty of other weaknesses, but it largely overcomes them by having a unique feel in an otherwise narrow genre bandwidth.
Amazon Button (via

Newsfront (Philip Noyce, 1978)
Low-key character dramedy about the post-war Australian newsreel cameramen and production staff chasing choice footage. Philip Noyce (Dead Calm, Patriot Games) cleverly intercuts actual newsreel footage to place the individual stories within historical context (between the years 1948 and 1956) as Australia undergoes a time of great of social and political upheaval.

Newsfront feels more like a technical achievement than a narrative. It's a wonderfully shot film that vacillates between color and black and white and provides a rich tapestry to showcase an A-list cast of Australian actors - Bill Hunter, Wendy Hughes, Bryan Brown, Gerard Kennedy among them. That the film fails to provide a satisfying conclusion feels almost irrelevant. It only seems fitting that as the dawn of TV arrives in 1956 Australia, the lives and stories of these intrepid reporters peter out as well. Some critics have called this the best Australian film ever made, and our ignorance of the film speaks to how little Newsfront has been seen outside the land down under.
Amazon Button (via

Go Tell the Spartans (Ted Post, 1978)
In the hands of someone other than Ted Post, Go Tell the Spartans might be mentioned among the great Vietnam War movies. If you want mechanical blocking and harsh lighting call Ted Post. If you want your violence untarnished by Hollywood flash and glam, call Ted Post. War is hell, told matter of factly - but not without a highly unique cinematic perspective.

As a result Go Tell the Spartans (based on Daniel Ford's 1967 novel Incident at Muc Wa) feels a little like tonal cousin TV's M*A*S*H, minus Hot Lips. What it does so well, however, is offer a perspective on the U.S.'s early involvement in the conflict. These aren't grizzled and disillusioned grunts humping through the jungle and/or screaming into the sky as Agent Orange rains down from the heavens and helicopters block out the sun. Led by Major Asa Barker (Burt Lancaster), these U.S. Army military advisers merely serve as an outpost for the South Vietnamese village Muc Wa. They represent the seeds of eventual disaster.

If you remember Go Tell the Spartans for no other reason, it'll be Burt Lancaster's nostalgic speech about the President walking into a room as he's getting a hummer from the general's wife as an explanation for his lackluster current station.
Amazon Button (via

Who Is Killing the Great Chefs of Europe? (Ted Kotcheff, 1978)
Ted Kotcheff has such a bewildering filmography that whenever I hear his name I can't help but mention that the guy directed both First Blood and Weekend at Bernie's. It's a reflex. With Who Is Killing the Great Chefs of Europe? he's definitely operating on that Weekend at Bernie's spectrum, with a dose of Theatre of Blood mixed in.

Two of the world's greatest chefs have been killed, per the style of their own specialty. Robby (George Segal) and ex-wife/pastry chef (Jacqueline Bisset) head to Paris to round up all of the next greatest chefs to warn them about the murderer. The brilliant gag here is that obviously none of the chefs want to be murdered, but they all want to be next greatest chef in the world. It's all played broadly, but the absurd premise works practically as a satire of the culinary arts.

The murder mystery plays out predictably - you won't expend too much energy coming up with the solution (and the film devotes too much time to translucent red herrings) but you're engaged in the banter and sleuthing so it doesn't much matter. Plus the film serves up a cast that also contains the scene-stealing Robert Morley, Jean Rochefort, and Jean-Pierre Cassel. This is pure 1970's cinematic comfort food.
Amazon Button (via

Tuesday, November 27, 2018

Just The Discs - Episode 82 - "Collector's Mentality" - Black Friday Shopping with Rob G!

On this episode, Rob Galluzzo is back for another installment of the "Collector's Mentality" as Brian and Rob talk discuss some habits and tips they have for their Blu-ray Black Friday shopping every year and go through some of the pickups they made for 2018!

Please rate and subscribe if you like the show!

The show is also available on Stitcher:

And Spotify:


A Few of The Discs discussed on this episode:

Amazon Button (via

BATMAN NINJA (Warner Bros)
Amazon Button (via

THE CHILDREN (Vinegar Syndrome)
Amazon Button (via

Amazon Button (via