Happy 4th, all

And, if anyone's asking, I still support the troops.

Death wish fulfillment (and then some)

Did you know there are four sequels to the movie Death Wish, that paean to vigilantism that makes Dirty Harry appear restrained? I knew there were at least two, and probably three, installments in this series, but five? I noticed this excess when I was leafing through my wonderful 800-page TCM Catalog (in association with Movies Unlimited) and came across the Charles Bronson subsection in "Action & Adventure." I think I may be forgiven for conflating two or more of these titles because, according to the catalog's descriptions, they all share the same storyline and other key elements [emphasis mine throughout]:

Death Wish (1974)
Original vigilante thriller that spawned a slew of sequels [you don't say] and "copycats" still packs a potent punch. Charles Bronson takes the law into his own fists when his wife is killed and his daughter raped by local toughs. ["Original"? Wasn't this a "copycat" of Dirty Harry?]

Death Wish II (1982)

Charles Bronson is back...and meaner than ever. His daughter's been assaulted [Again? Yeesh.], so once again he goes on a one-man vigilante spree against the crooks, rapists and muggers of the city.

Death Wish 3 (1985)

Crime-busting vigilante Paul Kersey (Charles Bronson) returns in the third action thriller, defending the terrorized residents of a New York apartment building from a horde of marauding gang members and blowing the punks away as only Bronson can. [Filling the breach left by law enforcement with all its rules and red tape!]

Death Wish 4: The Crackdown (1987) [The series graduates to "colon" level, indicating its seriousness!]

He takes the law into his own fists, on a one-man vigilante spree, blowing the punks away as only he can. Yes, Charles Bronson returns to the streets, and viewers of "Death Wishes" One, Two and Three know what that means! [I.e., you know what you're gettin', and no explanation necessary!]

Death Wish V: The Face of Death (1994) [And returns to a Roman numeral! Unless that's V for Vigilante . . . ]

Charles Bronson's Paul Kersey is back, this time returning to New York with girlfriend Lesley-Anne Down. When she's killed in the crossfire of her ex-husband's protection operation, Bronson hunts down the scum responsible in his legendary vigilante style.

So, I guess if these films have a "moral," beyond legal process being for pussies, it's that you shouldn't cross, get close to or even hang out with Paul Kersey. You'll be in for a world of hurt.

And, Chuck, I hope you've achieved the peace you denied (or supplied) so much street "scum."

Actually, there is a lot that could be said about vigilante "justice" and cinematic depictions thereof. Is vigilantism justified under any circumstances? Are nonjudgmental or even glorifying treatments of vigilantes and their actions, by their nature, pernicious? Do they reinforce or activate our most base instincts and impulses or, alternatively, provide something of a safety valve or outlet that could reduce the commission of acts of real-world violence or both, depending on the particular presentation or state of mind of the viewer? Does the appeal of movies of this sort reflect a powerlessness many feel in day-to-day life? Does the particular vigilante hero, say, a rape victim seeking vengeance against her attacker(s), make a difference? Was Pauline Kael fair when she excoriated Dirty Harry for its "fascist medievalism"?

Discuss. With me. I'm lonely. And unarmed. I promise.

Sex-shooter, Or: A rambling discussion of unseen films

I’ve known for some time that my knowledge of western films, as a genre, is woefully lacking. In response to Shandon’s film noir program (which commenced last night in fine form with The Petrified Forest), I decided to schedule a set of oaters, for my own education as much as anything else. As I was finalizing the seven titles that would make up this series, Shandon shared a sensational one-sheet for a lurid little “western” feature entitled The Female Bunch.

Intrigued, I watched the film’s trailer, which was so entertaining – “Independent women. Turning women’s lib into a menacing reality!” – that I couldn’t imagine the full-length feature possibly living up to it. Moreover, I had limited my western program to seven slots, and while I was open to pulpy fare well outside the sanctioned western canon, The Female Bunch didn’t quite fit the bill. It is clearly not a western but rather desert-set sexploitation and is, in all likelihood, quite tedious after a few minutes. My “discovery” of this film, however, did dovetail with my dawning interest in another title, Hannie Caulder, a rape-and-revenge* western starring Raquel Welch and featuring a gang of tormentors played by an almost unbelievable troika: Ernest Borgnine, Strother Martin and Jack Elam. This film, notwithstanding its higher production values, seems to appeal to some of the same prurient interests as The Female Bunch. If its promotional materials are any indication, Hannie Caulder traffics in its star’s sex appeal without addressing the true horror of sexual assault or any moral quandaries presented by the pursuit of vengeance. Not that, from a filmgoing perspective, there’s anything wrong with that, I do hope it goes without saying.

Hannie Caulder also didn't make the program even though it happens to feature Christopher Lee(!) in his only western. According to his autobiography, he wishes he had appeared in more of them. Lee further relates that throughout his career he “[p]ranc[ed] from genre to genre, like the devil on stepping stones.” His experience with “erotica,” for instance, reveals the horror icon’s overriding gentility and perhaps hyper-sensitivity:

Erotica was a genre I did not fancy. It was true that as Dr. Sadismus in The Torture Chamber of Dr. S [Netflix it! – ed.] I was surrounded by a sea of nude women, and the effluvium that rose from their bodies as the lights grew hotter was like marsh gas, but I could not believe the picture incited to erotic indulgence.

Mr. Lee goes on to address his varying levels of involvement in soft-core projects such as Stud, The Story of O, Philosophy of the Boudoir and Eugenie’s Journey into Perversion.

In retrospect, maybe it’s too bad that, in the case of The Female Bunch, Christopher Lee, unlike Russ Tamblyn and Lon Chaney, Jr., was not available, affordable or even considered. And speaking of due consideration, I have perhaps, in light of this discussion’s clear (and inevitable?) drift away from westerns back into my exploitation comfort zone, unfairly given this movie short shrift. On the off chance I seek to rectify my summary dismissal of this Bunch, all apologies to Sam Peckinpah in advance.


* Amazon.com reports that certain customers who purchased Hannie Caulder (VHS, the only format in which it’s readily available in the U.S.) also bought, among other items, the Millennium Edition DVD of another film involving the rape of its protagonist and her quest for violent revenge, the non-western I Spit on Your Grave (aka Day of the Woman), which was the subject of some controversy upon its release. I don’t find this overlap inherently problematic, just curious. Is “rape and revenge” its own subgenre? Were a set of grad or seminar students recently assigned these materials so that they may study such depictions?


Next time: More on cinematic rape and revenge (a little "r & r") and vigilante justice more generally.