Goliath and The Vampires/Maciste Contra Il Vampiro (1961)

‘And from a serpent, born in the depths of the kingdom of evil, sprang a monster that nourishes itself on human blood to generate an army of automatons.’

Goliath’s home village is attacked and burnt to the ground by the minions of supernatural sorcerer, Kobrak. All the young women are carried away, including the muscIeman’s betrothed, so he sets out in pursuit on a mission of rescue and vengeance.

The international success of ‘Hercules’ (1958), with Steve Reeves, kick-started a huge wave of Italian muscleman pictures, which only began to lose its momentum toward the middle of the 1960s. The character of mythical strongman ‘Maciste’ had first appeared in silent Italian film ‘Cabiria’ (1914), which told the tale of a slave with superhuman strength who rescues a princess from human sacrifice. Apparently, it was loosely based on a novel by Gustave Flaubert, who’s somewhat more notable work was his debut novel ‘Madame Bovary’ published in 1857.

After taking his first bow, Maciste went from strength to strength, starring in 26 more silent pictures, the last of which came out in 1926. A revival followed in 1960 with ‘Maciste In The Valley Of The Kings’ (1960), which led to another 24 films, of which this example was the second. When these films were released stateside, the character was always renamed; variously as Samson, Goliath, Atlas, Ursus, Ulysses, Colossus, and even Hercules himself (just to confuse things a little more!)

The plot this time around (and on most other occasions if we’re brutally honest) sees our musclebound hero (Gordon Scott) pitching his deltoids against an evil ruler (in this case, one of supernatural origin) who has assumed control of a kingdom and its throne. He must rescue a virtuous, too-trusting blonde (this time it’s Leonora Ruffo) whilst going up against a dark-haired femme fatale with too much eye makeup (usually a Queen of some sort, but in this case the villain‘s right-hand woman Gianna Maria Canale). Of course, she falls for the big lug and his biceps, and makes the ultimate sacrifice to prove her love for him.

Cue Scott fighting with lots of guards in the vi|lain’s zombie army, using only his bare hands and large rocks/pieces of wood, which could probably be more accurately described as polystyrene. Some of these action scenes are borderline inept, with Scott seemingly needing assistance from a bystander to lift a large table during one fight in a tavern. I’m not sure about the trooper’s uniforms either; all those large spikes look to be in definite contravention of applicable Health and Safety regulations. We also get the inevitable dancing girls at court (all gauzy veils and genteel swaying), our heroes getting lost in a sandstorm, and a plucky kid (Pacco Vidouzzi) who can’t stay out of trouble. Pretty much no cliché is left unturned.

Scott was an American who had taken over as ‘Tarzan’ in the MGM series in the early 1950s, but his tenure as ‘King of the Jungle’ had expired with ‘Tarzan the Magnificent’ (1960), so a move to Italian muscleman flicks was almost inevitable. Heroine Ruffo starred in several similar projects, including Mario Bava’s ‘Hercules In The Haunted World'(1961), and was also very fetching in sci-fi ‘guilty pleasure’ train-wreck ‘2+5: Missione Hydra’ (1966). Canale had actually appeared as the Queen of the Amazons in Reeves‘ ‘Hercules’ (1958)  and top-lined Riccardo Freda’s ‘I Vampiri’ (1957), the first horror movie made in Italy since before the Second World War.

Goliath hadn’t quite got a handle on the Pole Vault event…

But spare a thought for Jacques Sernas as the King of the Blue Men (no percussion instruments involved). The year before he’d appeared in Felini’s ‘La Dolce Vita’ (1960) and had been one of the main players in Robert Wise’s historical epic ‘Helen of Troy’ (1955), where he co-starred with Stanley Baker, Brigitte Bardot and Sir Cedric Hardwicke!

Co-director Sergio Corbucci is far better known for spaghetti westerns, particularly Franco Nero’s first appearance as ‘Django’ (1966). He also delivered another well-regarded example of that genre with ‘The Big Silence/The Great Silence’ (1969). Amazingly, this was a ‘Dino De Laurentiis Production’ long before the Italian mogul got his name above the titles of such major international hits as ‘Serpico’ (1973), ‘Death Wish’ (1974), ‘King Kong’ (1976), ‘Flash Gordon’ (1980) and ‘Conan the Barbarian’ (1982), among many, many others.

This is production line sword and sandal nonsense with the added gimmick of sorcery and a little touch of bloodless horror.

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The Three Fantastic Supermen/The Fantastic Three (1967)

‘Watch out! One of the three Supermen is following in a Yellow Cab!’

Two thieves who rob high-profile targets wearing special bulletproof costumes are joined by a third member for their latest heist. Their plan to rob a foreign embassy of millions of dollars goes off without a hitch, until they realise that their new colleague has his own agenda…

Cheerful 1960’s comedy-adventure that combines elements of the Superhero genre, James Bond and the caper movie. Producer-Director Gianfranco Parolini (hiding under his usual alias of Frank Kramer) had previously teamed actors Tony Kendall and Brad Harris in decent Bond knock-off ‘Kiss Kiss, Kill Kill’ (1966). That movie launched them in the successful ‘Kommissar X’ spy film series, which ran until 1971, but, in the meantime, Parolini put the performers together again here.

Kendall (real name Luciano Stella) is the leader of this criminal enterprise, always ready with a knowing smirk, smart chat for the ladies, and a useful pair of fists. Sidekick Aldo Canti is an acrobat who can’t speak but giggles hysterically throughout, in what is a somewhat puzzling artistic choice. Their schemes are backed by boffin Carlo Tamberlani, who has invented their bulletproof suits (and capes!), a self-driving car and a ‘Universal Reproducer’ (of which more later). He also has a pretty young niece, of course, played by Bettina Busch, which gives rise to all sorts of kidnapping possibilities for chief bad guy Jochen Brockmann and his gorgeous sidekick Sabine Sun. Kendall also runs a spy school for beautiful women, and may be an English nobleman working for British Intelligence (although, like a lot of plot points, that isn’t exactly clear).

When our heroic duo become a trio for their latest blag, they’re joined by American Brad Harris. Unfortunately, it turns out he’s an FBI Agent and he’s after their swag because he suspects it to be counterfeit (and a little bit radioactive). That’s because it’s been created by Tamberlani’s ‘Reproducer’ which has ‘fallen into the wrong hands’ as these great inventions always do. The villainous Brockmann doesn’t want to stop at such petty larceny though, conscripting Tamberlani (through the unexpected medium of kidnapping his pretty niece) to modify his device to create copies of people. Yes, he needs zombie soldiers for his army so he can conquer the world!

This is all supremely silly, of course, and the film proceeds at the sort of helter-skelter pace designed to both maximise the entertainment value and paper over the gaps in the screenplay, which is sometimes more than a little incoherent as well as deliberately ridiculous. Unfortunately, Parolini doesn’t have the sort of budget necessary to achieve the swashbuckling style he’s aiming for, with both fight choreography and action set pieces lacking in execution and thrills, although there is some decent stunt driving.

Audiences thought the ‘Dance Off’ was too close to call…

Perhaps the most surprising aspect is the presence of Canti. Most of his acrobatic feats are performed in a mask, so it could have been a stunt double, but it does seem he had at least some gymnastic ability. Why is this a surprise? Well, apparently, Canti was a real-life criminal with ties to the Mafia. ln fact, he was a full-time resident of the local prison during production but was allowed out during the day to film his scenes!

Two sequels followed; ‘3 Supermen in Tokio’ (1968) and ‘Supermen’ (1970). Kendall didn’t appear in either, but Harris showed up for the last of the short series. Unsurprisingly, Canti was a no-show on both occasions too, his role being taken by Sal Borgese, who turns up here as an FBI Agent with a bazooka!

Good, undemanding fun if you can look at the other way and forgive the technical deficiencies.

The Wizard of Baghdad (1960)

‘I’m an Eni-Meni Geni, an Eni-Meni Geni am l.’

A hopeless genie with a liking for the wine jug is sent on a mission to Baghdad to ensure that Prince Hassan and Princess Yasmin ascend to the Caliph’s throne as prophesied. When he bungles the job, he’s condemned to a mortal existence until he can make the prophecy come true.

Dismal ‘Arabian Knights’ fluff from legendary low-budget producer Sam Katzman and starring nightclub entertainer Dick Shawn. Unfortunately, the film’s in trouble even before the opening credits have finished, with Shawn flying in on a magic carpet (supported by clearly visible strings) singing what is probably one of the most irritating ditties in film history. He’s our title character, a Iovably useless genie who prefers to get wasted than get on with tasks set by his chief William Edmonson. He ends up (literally) in the last chance saloon, but prefers to sample the juice of the grape rather than pay attention to invading Sultan John Van Dreelan, who murders the Caliph of Baghdad and forces the adolescent Hassan into exile.

After having his magic removed, Shawn hangs around hoping for a chance to put things right and regain his powers, but his clever strategy involves spending most of his time with a talking horse and pretending to be a wizard. Seven years pass and the adolescent Prince Hassan has turned into handsome Barry Coe, and the Princess Yasmin into dark-eyed beauty Diane Baker. Can our useless hero bring them together and frustrate the schemes of Van Dreelan and Baker’s toadying father?

If this was supposed to be a comedy showcase to launch Shawn’s burgeoning film career, it had the opposite effect than intended. This is truly a half-assed, juvenile experience, which attempts laughs by making knowing pop culture references and rehashing boring, obvious gags that were old a good two decades earlier. Production values are low, with the larger crowd scenes and one battle obviously lifted from another film, and the sets often somewhat threadbare, something you wouldn’t usually associate with the inside of a palace. The only mildly entertaining scenes are those in which Shawn is side-lined by what little plot there is; specifically the banter and romance between Coe and Baker, who tried hard to wring something out of the lifeless script.

The Royal Motor-bath was powered by extra towels.

The biggest surprise here is that the weak screenplay is from the pen of Jesse Lasky Jr, a Hollywood veteran who’d worked on several Cecil B DeMille productions, like ‘Reap The Wild Wind’ (1942), ‘Samson and Delilah’ (1949) and ‘The Ten Commandments’ (1956). In later life, he wrote mostly for UK television, including episodes of hit shows like ‘The Saint’, ‘Danger Man’ and ‘Space:1999’. Strangely enough, this film is entirely omitted from his autobiography.

Shawn had a big following as a singer and entertainer on the nightclub circuit, but his acting career turned out to be mostly ‘gag appearances’ that traded on his name, most notably in ‘lt’s A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World’ (1963). His only notable credit is as the actor who plays Adolf Hitler in the show put on by Zero Mostel and Gene Wilder in ‘The Producers’ (1967). Baker had a long and successful career as a character actress, including parts in Hitchcock’s ‘Marnie’ (1964), ‘Courage Under Fire’ (1996), many guest roles on television and a bit in ‘The Silence of the Lambs’ (1991).

Coe’s subsequent exploits were considerably less notable, although he did have a leading role in weird horror indie ‘Dr Death, Seeker of Souls’ (1973). Director George Sherman managed 128 credits over a long career, but only one notable film; ‘Big Jake’ (1971) with John Wayne, although it’s rumoured that The Duke helmed at least some of that himself.

A dreary, tired and slightly wretched experience.

Flashman (1967)

‘I’m afraid you’re wasting your bullets. They only tickle.’

Thieves murder a professor for his invisibility formula and use it to help them rob a bank. Unfortunately, a lot of their ill-gotten gains had already been replaced with counterfeit notes by a gang of beautiful women and, worse still, the chief teller is actually crime fighter Flashman in disguise.

Painfully uninspired cross between a caper movie and a superhero flick, which struggles throughout to find a focus for its rambling storyline. ls it Paolo Gozlino’s ‘Flashman’, a hero with a silly costume and not much else? ls it Claudie Lange’s girl gang, who cosy up to bank staff at work and swap out real currency with funny money right under their noses? Or is it lvano Staccioli’s cigarette floating in mid-air and chair cushions sinking under his invisible arse? Well, it’s all of these things, and none at all, really.

We open with a swinging montage of bright, primary colours and the camera zooming crazily in and out on tinted stills from the film. Girlie singers sing the name of the movie. Yeah, it’s the Sixties, baby! This Italian movie tries desperately to mine that ‘anything goes’ vibe but fails miserably to capture the spirit of the age with a pedestrian, laboured script which is little more than a scribble on a table napkin.

Our main man is Lord Burman, working undercover in his own bank to foil the counterfeiting ring, and then getting the blame for the more direct methods of the invisible bank robber and his pals. A quick exit is necessary through a convenient window, which leaves the guards flummoxed as he simply disappears! l guess it’s because he has a silly costume back in his closet at home. Also along for the ride is sister sidekick Ann Marie Williams, who contributes a series of silly outfits, outlandish makeup and little else. Flashman’s main squeeze is Micaela Pignatelli (from ‘Goldface, The Fantastic Superman’ (1967)!!), who ends up tied to the train tracks to the accompaniment of tiresome ‘comedy’ music (note the inverted commas).

‘Something for the weekend, sir?’

No, the film doesn’t take itself very seriously, which is a bonus, so there is a fair bit of knock about humour, usually at the expense of ‘the man’, in the form of Police Inspector Baxter (Jack Ary). Sadly, it lacks, wit, style and any kind of madcap sensibility that might have provided some entertainment value. Instead, we have a succession of lifeless developments that really go nowhere, and painfully obvious pratfalls. ln the end, the film simply disintegrates into an extended climactic, chase sequence, which sorely tries the patience.

The only notable creative touch comes from director Ernesto Gastaldi, who sometimes favours close-ups so huge that we can only see part of the actor’s faces. But I guess we have to be kind and assume that it’s some kind of aspect ratio issue, rather than a testament to the amount of strange substances consumed on set.

Enough material for an unfunny comedy sketch does not make for a good film.

The Thief of Baghdad (1961)

‘The first gate is in the East. It is to be seen where it is not.’

A handsome thief impersonates a visiting Prince so he can pick the pockets of the nobles at the court of the Sultan of Baghdad. During the ensuing confusion, he meets the Sultan’s beautiful daughter. They fall in love but she is promised to a  Prince who wants to be the next Sultan…

After the global success of ‘Hercules’ (1959), it would not have been unreasonable to expect Hollywood studios to come calling on muscleman Steve Reeves with offers to utilise his acting skills and charisma to good use in big stateside productions. Sadly, the star wasn’t over-blessed with either quality and he remained in Italy, starring in a string of pictures that showcased his greatest asset: his physicality.

These pictures were guaranteed a big play in Europe at least so American money was often involved, and this film was actually distributed in the states by MGM. A ‘name’ Hollywood director was also drafted in to take charge: veteran Arthur Lubin, whose biggest hits included ‘Black Friday’ (1940) with Karloff and Lugosi, ‘Buck Privates’ (1941) with Abbot and Costello and, most significantly here, ‘Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves’ (1944). He also gave a break to a young Clint Eastwood, giving him small roles in a string of pictures in the 1950s.

The story follows the Douglas Fairbanks model, of course, rather than the classic Michael Powell version from 1940 where the title character was a young, teenage boy. So we get Reeves as an Arabian Knights version of ‘Robin Hood’, stealing from the rich merchants and court lackeys and redistributing the wealth to poor market traders and the people of the city. The setup is stuffed with a lot of familiar characters; the nice but hopelessly muddled Sultan, his beautiful daughter, the scheming chief of staff and the evil, foreign Prince. It isn’t hard to predict that these last two will form an unholy alliance to grab the throne and that it’ll be up to Reeves to undo their nefarious schemes, on this occasion with the assistance of an old magician rather than the usual genie.

lt’s also no surprise when Reeves is tasked with a quest. He must travel to the East and obtain a Blue Rose to save the Princess, who has been poisoned by the evil Prince with a love potion gone wrong. The quest involves travelling through 7 gates and facing 7 challenges (or ‘labours’ perhaps? Reeves never really escaped from the shadow of Hercules) and these consist of some of the usual suspects, including fighting with a bald muscleman and resisting the temptations of a mysterious and seductive Queen who turns all her lovers to stone. It ends with a big brawl outside the city gates and the usual lesson that love conquers all and what you’re looking for is usually right under your nose.

‘Ooooh…who does he think he is?’

The SFX are of their time, of course, but their shoddiness only adds to the general charm. There’s still a joy in old fashioned practical effects, rather than smooth and hopelessly unconvincing CGI. There’s a cloak of invisibility (long before Harry Potter owned one), a flight on the winged horse Pegasus, deadly trees that come to life, and the old magician who pops up and vanishes with pleasing regularity. He’s the only real wrinkle story-wise, in that his help is mostly advisory and not magical, meaning that Reeves is often thrown back on his own resources rather than having his problems wished away in the usual fashion by a genie.

Although not remotely original, the production’s fuzzy familiarity does make for a pleasing and engaging experience and, although the U.S. dub track is pretty hideous, Reeves manages to convey a lightness of touch that is surprising if you’re only familiar with him from his more musclebound roles. The gorgeous Giorgi Moll is perfectly cast as the object of his desire, and also delivers a good performance. She was an actress with plenty of experience in the ‘Sword and Sandal’ genre, but enjoyed her greatest international fame when she featured in Jean-Luc Godard’s ‘Le Mépris’ (1963).

A pleasant enough way to spend an hour and a half of your day.