In the spirit of sleazy old “true confessions” magazines, here’s my confession: I am a life-long easterner, raised in Kentucky, schooled in Florida, happily living the rest of my life in New York City. All three locations are awash in hardboiled, noirish, and/or Southern Gothic credibility. And while I have no intention of leaving New…
Pretty much the only reason this movie went into production was that someone noticed that had a lot of stuff laying around that was used on Brescia’s previous movies and figured they might as well squeeze another movie or two out of it.
England’s Hammer Films had the misfortune of releasing their nicely decorated but somewhat tepid science fiction romp Moon Zero Two in the wake of 1968’s two big genre-changing films, and as a result, Hammer’s effort comes out looking decidedly small-scale and quaint. Perhaps even more crushing, Hammer released their breezy little moon adventure movie in 1969 and wound up competing directly with the actual Apollo moon landing.
In the great scheme of things, Forbidden Planet is still probably the coolest of the 50s sci-fi films, if for no other reason than it’s completely weird musical score, but World Without End is a two-fisted action-packed little brother that may not be as respectable or ambitious, but just might be more fun.
The Cultural Gutter invited me and my monsters over for a cup of tea and a conversation about The Monster in Me, during which I wax philosophic about the history of horror film ghouls and the lack of “human” monsters in modern chillers.
Tomas Milian, the Cuban-born actor who made a name for himself as an actor in Italy, plays Basco, a ruffian who hangs with a seedy general who claims to be championing the cause of the common man when in fact he’s little more than a thug doing his best to amass a fortune for himself.
New York’s subway stations are adorned with many an odd historical curio, image, mural, or hidden wonder. One of the first ones I ever noticed and thought to wonder about was the beavers diligently gnawing away at branches throughout the Astor Place 6 train station. These furry little devils probably represent the point at which…