In praise of little-known movies

Under-the-radar gems worth a look

What are the exact parameters that define a neglected classic, or semi-classic? For some almost any obscure film noir, especially one with a cult following, would be in the running. Other tastes would lean more to sci-fi/horror or westerns. But, and much as I’m a huge fan of noir, especially the little noirs [1], and sometimes even sci-fi and westerns, to be representative and equitable I didn’t want to focus too much on one genre or historical era.

Some of the titles listed below are indeed cult classics and regularly show up at second run and arthouse theaters, and they also appear on tv programs that specialize in oddball movies. As such several have loyal if small followings. Some have been critically praised to the skies (and some have not). Admittedly with many films available in their entirety online nowadays and the constant flow of DVDs from prestige labels like Criterion and Kino Lorber, a few of the titles listed below – well, most actually – aren’t quite so obscure as they once were. Indeed, among hardcore old movie buffs some may be more than a little familiar. Even so …

Digression: the term ‘cult’ appears more than once above, thus a word on cult films vs. little known films. A film can be underrated, unfamiliar or underappreciated, which is not quite the same as a film that generates a quasi-religious devotion among its (usually) small coterie of admirers, and as a result, somewhat parodoxically, sneaking into cinematic mass consciousness in an influential and noteworthy way. The titles listed below are of the former category, but as hinted above some of them indeed have become cult classics. Conversely a cult movie isn’t necessarily unknown or under-appreciated, but often is.
In any case, and most important in the context of present ruminations, the entries in this compilation are, in the writer’s humble opinion, just plain good movies, quite apart from their familiarity, lack of it, or cult status. And, in what’s dubbed full disclosure these days, most of them are personal favorites. In contrast, almost by definition a bad film can’t be undervalued or under-appreciated. To wit: there are numerous cult movies that conventional wisdom would deem as irredeemably bad (bad in the sense of being inept or amateurish in concept and execution, apart from being bad in any ethical or moral sense). An example might be the Ed Wood-like The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies. This one certainly has a dedicated, if small, following, but few among us would extol its aesthetic virtues. In other words, it’s just a ‘bad’ movie.

Thus, drumroll please:

Blast of Silence. 1961. A smoky, jazzy minor masterpiece that might well be the last gasp of the classic noir era. Blast of Silence tells the story of a hit-man’s visit to New York to take out a mid-level mob boss. Directed by and starring Allen Baron.

A Coffee in Berlin. 2012. CiB chronicles the picaresque travails of a ne’er-do-well slacker and his quest to find the perfect cup of coffee – any cup of coffee – in the big city. Filmed in stylish black and white and populated with lovably eccentric characters, the film serves a snapshot of life in hip Berlin ca. 2010.

Creation of the Humanoids. 1962. Blade Runner meets Forbidden Planet, with a pinch of Metropolis, in this talky sci-fi camp classic. The striking, albeit low budget, visuals and Jack Pierce’s makeup are the true stars of Humanoids. An added bonus is Dudley Manlove of Plan 9 from Outer Space as one of the replicants, who are disparagingly referred to as ‘clickers’ by the self-anointed superior humans. Directed by Wesley Barry.

Curse of the Crying Woman (La Maldición de la Llorona). 1961. Beautifully filmed at night and often described as the Mexican Black Sunday, Crying Woman follows the familiar Gothic formula while throwing in a few, decidedly Mexican, twists and tricks of its own. With references not only to witchcraft but also voodoo, vampirism and lycanthropy, the film is one of the summits of Mexican horror cinema.

Dementia (Daughter of Horror). 1955. My, but this is one strange movie. A mixture of German silent film, urban melodrama, crime thriller, and surrealist fantasy, Dementia chronicles the sinister city hallucinations of a disturbed young woman. This one's like nothing you've ever seen before: a dark night of the soul, and a long night's journey into madness. Trivia: was Orson Welles influenced by Dementia's De Chirico-like visuals of Venice, California. The visual similarities to Welles's later Touch of Evil are uncanny, so it's certainly possible.

Deux Hommes dans Manhattan (Two Men in Manhattan). 1959. The story is of little consequence as mood and atmosphere run rampant in this affectionate tribute to the Big Apple. Truly a hymn to the night. Directed by and starring Jean-Pierre Melville. With: Pierre Grasset and a mostly unknown supporting cast.

Distinto Amanecer (Another Dawn). 1943. Andrea Palma and Pedro Armendariz shine in this tense story of skulduggery in an atmosphere- and night-drenched Mexico City. Directed by Julio Bracho and filmed by cinematographic legend Gabriel Figueroa, Distinto is one of the summits of the Golden Age of Mexican cinema.

The Exiles. 1961. Great on-location work in the Bunker Hill district of L.A. highlights this tale of Native Americans trying to adjust to life in the City of the Angels.

Frida: Naturaleza Viva. 1984. Superior in many ways to the far better-known Salma Hayek version, this Frida features Ofelia Medina, who bears a striking resemblance to the great artist. She delivers a knockout performance.

From Hollywood to Deadwood. 1989. FHtD is an amiable neo-noir in which two second-rate private detectives are hired to find a starlet who has mysteriously disappeared. Knowing banter, a well-paced plot and colorful locales highlight this enjoyable spoof of the private eye genre. Directed by Rex Pickett.

The Furies. 1950. Western specialist Anthony Mann helms perhaps his greatest western, a sweeping psychological epic marked by serious scenery chewing compliments of Walter Huston and Barbara Stanwyck. The heart of the story is a kinky father-daughter relationship that’s part affection, part battle of wills. Huston’s final film and arguably Stanwyck’s best performance, The Furies also boasts a stellar supporting cast, most notably Wendell Cory, Blanche Yurka, Gilbert Roland, Judith Anderson and Beulah Bondi.

Hot Enough for June (Agent 8 3/4). 1964. Dirk Bogarde, Sylva Koscina and Robert Morley sparkle in this lightweight spy spoof, laden with eminently Sixties style and sensibilities.

The Hunted. 1947. Tidy little B noir that packs a punch. Tough cop Preston Foster shadows former girlfriend Belita, who's been released from prison for a crime she insists she didn't commit. Belita's acting isn't quite as good as her skating, but she makes a compellingly languorous femme fatale. Her skating number is the best part of the film.

Isle of the Dead. 1945. Boris Karloff heads the credits but atmosphere is the star in this murky, less appreciated entry in the Val Lewton canon. Katherine Emery, Ellen Drew and Ernst Deutsch highlight a strong supporting cast, and Leigh Harlene’s creepy score adds to the ambience.

Les dames du Bois de Boulogne. 1945. A beautiful society woman plots revenge on a boyfriend who has jilted her for another woman. She ignores the inconvenient fact that she had already dumped him, sort of. Robert Bresson’s masterly direction and the fine cast, especially Maria Casarès as the vengeful femme fatale, lift the thin material above its pedigree. The sumptuous black & white look is really the true star of the film. 

Les Yeux sans Visage (Eyes Without a Face). 1960. All is bathed in perpetual twilight and gloomy semi-darkness in this horror thriller that's a strong candidate for the mantle of the creepiest movie of all time.

Lizzie. 1957. Eleanor Parker rocks as the multiple personality woman in this poor man’s Three Faces of Eve. Directed by Hugo Haas. 

Mickey One. 1965. Warren Beatty's strangest film is a paranoia-drenched expressionistic thriller with a strong touch of the post-noir. Ghislain Cloquet's cinematography is the true star of the film, which features offbeat on-location scenes in Detroit and Chicago as well as a strong supporting cast that includes Hurd Hatfield, Jeff Corey, Alexandra Stewart, and Franchot Tone in one of his last roles. Directed by Arthur Penn.

Murder by Contract. 1958. It’s Vince Edwards in the role of a lifetime as a quirky, ice cold contract killer. Caprice Toriel shines as the nervous, piano playing mark. Directed by Irving Lerner.

The Sound of Fury (Try and Get Me). 1950. A ruthless criminal recruits a down-on-his-luck veteran to assist him with his nefarious schemes. Unpleasant and difficult to watch, Try and Get Me is a fine film nonetheless, with Lloyd Bridges a standout as one of cinema’s most irredeemable bad guys.

The Spiritualist (The Amazing Mr. X). 1948. A rich woman (a Joan Crawford-esque Lynn Bari) searches for messages from her dead husband through the medium Alexis (Turhan Bey). The surrealistic visuals create a creepy mood in this 1940s style supernatural thriller. Indeed this modest little film may be cinematographer John Alton's masterpiece. This one just gets better with repeated viewings.

Stark Fear (1962). 1950s B movie scream queen Beverly Garland stars in this obscure, low-rent exploitation film about a wife-in-peril who just can't seem to leave her sadistic husband. Stark Fear is a quirky quasi-noir with a strong supporting cast (especially Hannah Stone as Garland's stoic friend) and a shifting feminist/anti-feminist message. Directed by Ned Hochman and Skip Homeier, and filmed on location in Arkansas and Oklahoma.

Terror in the Crypt (Crypt of the Vampire). 1964. Gothic is the word in this stylish, shadows-laden Italo-horror thriller with a subtly erotic charge. Christopher Lee is the marquee name of the cast, but it’s the ladies who steal the show, especially our two leads Adriana Ambesi and Ursula Davis. Crumbling locales, creepy music and a strong Sapphic undertow contribute to this little known gem.

Waterloo Bridge. 1931. Not to be confused with the much better known, but not as good, Vivien Leigh version of a few years later, Waterloo Bridge is a pre-Code treasure. In the performance of a career, Mae Clarke is wonderful as the working class streetwalker who captures the heart of an American serviceman in WW1 London. Directed by James Whale.

Wicked Woman. 1953. This trashy little gem features 1950s B movie legend Beverly Michaels, but Percy Helton steals the show as the most repellent lecher in cinema history. Running a brisk 77 minutes, Wicked Woman positively drips in sleaze, and it’s a small miracle the film got past the censors in the early Fifties.

Woman on the Run. 1950. Ann Sheridan hits it out of the park in this under appreciated quasi-noir that boasts a fine supporting cast, especially police inspector Robert Keith and shady journalist Dennis O’Keefe. WotR is also notable for the effective use of sinister San Francisco locales. Directed by Norman Foster.

Women in the Night. 1948. German scientists plot revenge on the victorious allies by developing a cosmic ray weapon. Meanwhile, beautiful women are held prisoner as they provide 'tea and sympathy' at an officers' club. Ostensibly a thriller, this (post)WW2 propaganda film received the full pulp noir treatment from director William Rowland. Featuring Tala Birell, Virginia Christine and especially Jean Brooks, who (more or less) reprises her persona from The Seventh Victim. Gloriously lurid and irresistibly kitschy, Women in the Night also has a dubious distinction in that it might well be the first Nazi exploitation movie.

[1] For an exceptionally thorough perusal of under-the-radar B noirs see: Arthur Lyons, Death on the Cheap: the Lost B Movies of Film Noir, Da Capo, 2000. For the cult angle there’s Danny Peary’s three volumes on cult movies. See also Millie De Chirico's TCM Underground: 50 Must-See Films from the World of Classic Cult and Late-Night Cinema.