Here's the 2nd review of a Dan Curtis movie coming to DVD that will appear in Filmfax #97 (available next week).  The issue, which can be ordered at www.filmfax.com or found at Borders, Barnes & Noble, Tower Records, and other comic/sci-fi shops, will also feature interviews with DC as well as KLS and Lara Parker.  This is posted here with permission of the author, David Nahmod.  Many thanks, David!


"The Turn of the Screw" (1973) MPI Home Video. 118 minutes. $14.98.
118 minutes. Written by William F. Nolan, from the Henry James story.
Music by Robert Cobert. Produced and Directed by Dan Curtis.                                                                                           
What is considered by many to be the greatest Victorian ghost story
ever written is given a decidedly tame treatment by Dan Curtis, the
creator/producer of Dark Shadows.
The tale of a repressed Victorian governess battling the spirits
possessing her young charges was considered quite shocking when it was
first published in the late 1800s. The ghosts of Peter Quint, the
handyman, and Miss Jessell, the former governess, were involved in all
manner of "sinful" behavior that seemed to continue after their deaths.
Throughout the story, it is hinted that the children, Myles & Flora, are
not only possessed, but may be involved in Quint's & Jessell's perverse
behavior. In her battle to drive the spirits out of the house & free the
children, the new governess is forced to deal with her own sexual
repression.
Daring material indeed for the Victorian age. In some circles, this
story would be considered too strong even today. The book was superbly
adapted for the big screen by Jack Clayton in 1960, as "The Innocents",
and was also done as a theatre piece and an opera. I'm afraid those
versions are far superior to this one.
What's missing from this version is atmosphere. Dan Curtis made the
fatal mistake of shooting on video. Video's clarity of image can work in
a controlled studio setting, as it did on Dark Shadows. But Curtis took
his cast and crew to an English country manor house. Shot on location in
often natural lighting, the film looks and feels more like a Jane Austen
romantic comedy than a ghost story. Worse, Curtis chose, for some
unexplained reason, to shoot select outdoor scenes on a grainy film
stock. This might have worked if Curtis had done this with the ghostly
scenes only, as a way of setting them apart from the rest of the film.
But the switch from video to film seems almost random.
When Miss Cubberly (Lynn Redgrave) drives up to Bligh House in her
carriage, it's film. When she steps out of the carriage in front of the
house, it's video. When she and the children leave church on Sunday
morning, it's film. When they visit Peter Quint's grave in the
churchyard one minute later, it's video. The effect is pointless,
distracting, and annoying. Curtis needed to decide which medium he was
shooting in.
The film is not without merit. The script, by William F. Nolan, is quite
well written, and captures the nuances of Victorian language and
sensibilities. The chats between Miss Cuberly and Mrs. Grose, the
housekeeper, do much to develop both characters. When Cuberly realizes
what Quint and Jessell are up to, and that they're involving the
children, her shocked reaction is absolutely believable, in part because
the dialogue reveals the depths of her repression. Lynn Redgrave, of
course, is a superb actress in total control of her craft.
Megs Jenkins in equally wonderful as Mrs. Grose, the same role she
played in "The Innocents". Curtis was so enchanted by her performance in
the earlier film that he could see no one else in the role. Megs
Jenkins, who passed away in the late 1990s, was a superb old school
British character actress. Though never a household name, she worked
steadily in British film & theatre, and could always be counted on to
give a flawless performance.
Young Jasper Jacob is brilliant as Myles, the possessed child. About 13
here, Jacob is amazing in scenes where he presents himself as a boy
respectful of his elders. Yet seething beneath the surface of his good
manners is Peter Quint's raging evil and sexuality. The scene where he
says "let me kiss you goodnight, my dear", as Miss Cuberly turns away
from his lips will have you cringing in discomfort.
Sadly, too many of Dan Curtis' choices spoil the effect. The brightly
lit, shot on video interiors create no mood at all. The sets desperately
needed some of the "Dark Shadows" that Curtis employed on his famed TV
show. And after awhile, the jarring jumps from video to film make you
want to scream!
There are also two shots where the microphone is in full view of the
camera. These kinds of flubs were cute and charming on Dark Shadows, and
in fact became part of that show's appeal. But here it's amateurish.
Dark Shadows fans will love Robert Cobert's familiar score, which is
well suited to stories of this type. And look for Dark Shadows' Kathryn
Leigh Scott, seen briefly and silently as the ghost of Miss Jessell in
exactly six shots. Scott was doing a play in London when Turn of the
Screw was shot. She and Curtis met for dinner to discuss old times. She
did her cameo for her old friend for fun.
MPI's DVD presentation of Turn of The Screw is quite good. The full
frame picture is clear and sharp, as is the sound. Extras include an
English subtitles option, and interviews with Redgrave and Curtis. The
interviews, shot recently, are very well done. The two obviously like
each other, which is always nice to see. The interviews, shot
separately, cut back and forth between the two as they underscore each
other's points, and provides a lot of background information not only on
the production, but what led Curtis to it. I do wish he had talked about
the Quentin Collins character on Dark Shadows. Quentin was introduced as
a ghost on the show in late 1968, in a story loosely adapted from The
Turn of The Screw. Though the source material was not credited, it was
very obvious that Quentin was a stand in for Quint. The show even
recreated two scenes from James' story, albeit with different
characters.
All in all, Dan Curtis' Turn of the Screw is a decidedly mixed bag. In
spite of it's good points, I'm not sure it's worth two hours of your
time.

                                   -------David Nahmod

Now that "Leviathans" is a not-so-distant memory and we're packing away our snake jewelry and getting over our fear of funhouses, I thought it might be fun to read how others would respond to these questions.  Answer any or all, and feel free to expound if you wish.

Don't forget-- this is for the Leviathans storyline only.  Does anybody need an explanation of how to copy and paste the questions into their reply, or how to get them there using the quote feature?


Most welcome character (the one you were happiest to see)?

Your favorite character in Leviathans, period.

Favorite duo (non-romantic)?

Favorite romantic pairing?

Favorite minor character?

Most irritating character?

Scene(s) you can watch over and over and over and...?

Most wasted opportunity?

Best plot twist?

Creepiest moment or event?

Which scene had you yelling at your TV screen the loudest?

What moment made you cheer the loudest?

Moment in which you most wondered, "What were the writers smoking?"

Event or revelation that made you ask, "What were the writers smoking?"

Favorite quote?

Favorite prop?

Favorite special effect?

Least favorite special effect?

Favorite outfit?

Ugliest outfit?

Stupidest continuity error (the most horrendous job of retconning in this storyline)?

What scene had you closest to tears (because it was so touching)?

What scene had you closest to tears (from laughing)?

Moment or event that made your jaw drop the farthest?

What nagging question were you left with?  (Uh, try to narrow it down, please. )

Finally, what was your reaction to the storyline the very first time you watched it?

Questions for LP must be submitted in advance.  Go to www.darkshadowsdvd.com and follow the link.

Hope you're enjoying your special day!

Recently published in San Francisco's Bay Area Reporter, a gay and lesbian newsweekly, posted with permission of the author:


Big Lou: The Life and Career of Louis Edmonds by Craig Hamrick, iUniverse Press, March 2003, softcover, $14.95

     To fans of the daytime soaps Dark Shadows and All My Children, Louis Edmonds was a superstar. But few others have heard of this journeyman actor, even though he worked steadily for 45 years.

     Louis Edmonds (1923-2001) lived for the theatre and had hundreds of roles on the stage and in early live TV. A tall, imposing, aristocratic man, he was a grand, old school actor. Had he been born twenty years earlier, he could have been one of Hollywood's great character people. But when Edmonds entered the theatre in the early 1950s, method acting was all the rage. Many classically trained actors were relegated to appearing with small theatre companies around the country, working steadily but getting little recognition. Though occasional small roles on television raised his profile slightly, Louis Edmonds never achieved stardom on any level. That changed in 1966, when he was cast in a new daytime drama called Dark Shadows.

     Dark Shadows began as fairly traditional soap opera fare. About six months into it's network run, the struggling show took a sharp turn and began presenting ghost stories. This seemed to attract some attention, so, in April 1967, Dark Shadows presented viewers with Barnabas Collins (Jonathan Frid), daytime television's first bona fide, blood sucking vampire! Almost instantly Dark Shadows shot from the bottom to the top of the daytime ratings. The show became a pop culture phenomenon, and for the first time in his career, Louis Edmonds found himself thrust into the spotlight.

     The show's bizarre combination of horror movie cliches and soap opera melodrama was perfect or his grand, slightly over the top style of acting. Louis stayed with the show for it's entire five year run, and appeared with the rest of the cast in MGM's spin-off feature film House of Dark Shadows in 1970.

     Louis had a second brush with fame. In 1979 he began a 16 year run on All My Children. He made his role, carnival barker turned dapper aristocrat Langley Wallingford his own. It was a larger than life role that suited him perfectly, and he played it with gusto, earning himself three Emmy nominations along the way and millions of fans.

     His All My Children fans included TV legend Carol Burnett, who, in 1983, asked the producers to write her into the show. For one week, Burnett appeared as Verla Grubbs, Langley's long lost daughter. They made a wonderful comedy team, and the show's ratings soared. All My Children was his moment in the sun.

     Louis Edmonds died in March 2001 after an extended illness. He might have been forgotten, as so many daytime actors are. But now, Edmonds is the subject of the first full length biography of a soap star.

     Craig Hamrick's Big Lou is a superbly written study of Edmonds' life and career. Hamrick, a New York based writer and freelance journalist, was a close friend of Edmonds during the last eight years of the actor's life. Because of this, Big Lou could have been nothing more than a shallow, worshipful valentine to Edmonds. But the courageous Hamrick, though clearly in awe of his subject, is not afraid to expose a few warts.

     The book serves as both a biography and a career study. After some background information on Edmonds' childhood in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, the book follows his years as a drama student at Carnegie Technical Institute in Pittsburgh (Jack Klugman and Nancy Marchand were classmates) where he discovered his attraction to men. In the 1940s, there was no gay rights movement, no community to speak of and no positive role models for young gays to look up to. Though he did not officially come out, the enormously self confident Edmonds quietly accepted his sexuality and pursued relationships with men

     He could be quite arrogant, Hamrick explains. Though he worked steadily in regional theatre and had roles in live TV, he was far from a well known actor. He had some bitterness over this. In the company of his theatre friends, he often put on airs and played "star".  He was a superb actor with a strong stage presence, but his arrogance may have done him in. He was aware of his talent and let numerous opportunities pass him by as he waited for "them" to call "him". He was too proud to pound the pavement, and he resented agents.  He felt they took more than their fair share of his pay while he actually showed up and did the work. He often refused to deal with them. Had he "played the game", his career might well have expanded beyond the limited range of daytime TV.

     He was also touchy about money. Hamrick documents his two long term relationships, both of which ended over disagreements about money.

     Louis Edmonds was an enormously talented man who was often his own worst enemy. This led to severe battles with alcohol and depression. Hamrick relates all of this, never losing sight of his own love and affection for the man.

     In the 1980s, Louis Edmonds watched sadly as his second lover, actor Bryce Holman, and his young nephew both succumbed to AIDS. He had seen he struggle for gay rights grow into a major movement. Perhaps inspired by this, he finally, in his 70s, publicly came out at a Dark Shadows fan gathering in the mid-1990s. He also appeared in Next Year in Jerusalem, a gay independent film in 1997, his final role.

     His final years were spent battling a variety of illnesses, including throat cancer, which robbed him of his career and ultimately of his life. He bore his illnesses with a quiet dignity. His final days were spent at his beloved country home, The Rookery, tending his garden and being visited by old friends and fans.

     Craig Hamrick's Big Lou is a lovely and loving tribute to a very complicated but talented man. At no time does Hamrick's friendship with Edmonds impair his ability tell the truth about his dear friend.  His love for his subject comes through on every page. Hamrick, himself a wide eyed semi-closeted gay man fom Kansas when he first  arrived in New York City, is introduced by Edmonds to art, theatre and culture. These memories are lovely to read. It is clear that Louis Edmonds had a profound influence on Craig Hamrick's life.

       Illustrated with many fascinating photographs, some from Edmonds' personal collection, some from the theatre archives of the New York City Public Library, the book is a fluidly written easy read. Big Lou gives a fine, neglected artist his due. Without it, Louis Edmonds may have been nothing more than a vague footnote in theatre and television history.

     Thanks to Craig Hamrick, he will not be forgotten.

     Big Lou is available at Amazon.com and Barnes and Noble.com. Dark Shadows, featuring Louis Edmonds, can be seen weekday mornings on the Sci-Fi Channel, and is available on DVD through  MPI Home Video.
           
                             by David Nahmod

Happy Birthday to Craig_Slocum --

CS's #1 fan!

I don't know what came over me.

If you'd previously told me I'd one day attend a Donna McKechnie performance I would've called you crazy.  But she brought her show, which has garnered rave reviews elsewhere, to the new Colony Theatre in Burbank (quite possibly the most elegant small theatre in L.A.) and it was, after all, a chance to get together with Bette, so I figured why not?  What follows is my review of Sunday's performance.  If that doesn't interest you, you can skip to the bottom of this post to witness "I don't know what came over me, Part II".

"Inside the Music" is a one-woman autobiographical show that follows (through anecdotes and musical numbers, though sometimes confusingly) McKechnie's career as a dancer from its inception while a young girl in a dysfunctional family (her parents "never spoke") who found solace and inspiration in movies and eventually defied a judge and them to run off to realize her dream, and ends with the most exciting number-- a shortened though no less fabulous performance of "The Music and the Mirror" from A Chorus Line complete with huge mirrors that are revealed with a flourish.  It brought back wonderful memories of the first time I'd seen that show (sans McKechnie) at the Music Center some 25 years ago. Yes, I'm saying that Inside the Music's finale gave me a thrill; shhh, please keep that to yourself.


Her singing was wonderful and very effective.  She has lost her slimness, but you'd never know it by her energetic dancing, nor is there any sign of the crippling arthritis she later tells us about.  She was accompanied by a trio of musicians, the piano player serving as conductor and also as participant during a handful of scenes requiring outside dialog.  In fact, the stage was empty if not for them and a single ballet bar that later disappears.  I am not fond of "Turkey Lurkey Time" from Promises, Promises, but how the heck she can still do those movements is beyond me.  She also performed "Inside the Music", a beautiful song Marvin Hamlisch wrote for her but which proves so difficult that she feigns a faint at the end of it, and you feel grateful it was dropped in favor of "TMATM".  Other songs from shows she appeared in include "A Secretary is Not a Toy" (Frank Loesser) from How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying during which she dances the choreography created for her by Bob Fosse, "You Could Drive a Person Crazy" (Stephen Sondheim) from Company, "If My Friends Could See Me Now" from Sweet Charity, and "Boogie Woogie Blues" from A Class Act.

We've seen the theme before-- through determination you can realize your dream.  Yet while we all know how the story turns out, you get her message that she was never lucky in love.  When she sang "I Wanna Be Loved By You" early on, who knew it would become a major theme as she continued to tell her life in story and song?  Yet despite this frequent admission, you can't help but think she glossed over some of the negative aspects of her life while focusing on the positive; an example of the latter is a detailed and romantic monologue about meeting Fred Astaire which culminated in a performance of the song "Astaire".  Examples of the former are her all-too-brief mentions of Michael Bennett (whom she married and divorced twice) and Fosse.  Regarding Bennett-- she explains she met him while doing Hullabaloo and even seats herself on the stage steps with a promise to speak frankly, but she never quite lives up to that promise.

The second half is far more entertaining, and she begins it by entering from the rear of the theater.  Unfortunately, the audience for this matinee was positively geriatric, which detracted from my experience because her dialogue, which she delivered flawlessly, occasionally called for our input.  Save for a smattering of male fans, Bette, her friend and I were the young'ns at the performance.  The older crowd seemed most attentive during 2 points in the show--  when she performed numbers from her most popular shows, and when she spoke in great detail about her arthritis treatment, from the 18 Bufferins a day to the miraculous results she got simply from changing her diet and "no fussing".  I stood for her encore appearance, but I'm not sure if the other attendees were less impressed or if they just, well, weren't able.

There are several restaurants within walking distance of the theater, and ProfStokes and victoriawinters graciously drove out to join Bette and me for a fun dinner after the show.

And as promised¢â‚¬¦



Beware the lashes.