ALERTS FOR: THE MAGIC TOYSHOP, SING, AND HEADIN' FOR HOLLYWOOD, FROM MY EX-RENTAL BIG BOX VIDEO COLLECTION

 

Front cover of the ex-rental big box video for the British television fantasy/drama/horror movie The Magic Toyshop (© David Wheatley/Angela Carter/Granada Television/first broadcast by ITV in 1988 – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

It has become increasingly apparent to me lately that I am watching far more movies than I can possibly review, particularly now that for well over a year I've been experiencing close-up vision problems (happily, my distance vision is unaffected) that are slowing down my reading and typing abilities significantly, especially when attempting these via computer screens. I am currently on th official waiting list for a corrective operation, so hopefully this issue will ultimately prove to be a temporary inconvenience only, but nevertheless I may never catch up on the time I've lost in relation to my writings and researches.

With movies, I tend to gravitate towards the lesser-known, more unusual examples, just as I do with cryptids when researching and writing on cryptozoology; and since my Shuker In MovieLand blog began five years ago now, I've been contacted by many of its readers thanking me for reviewing movies that they'd never previously known about but which, after reading my reviews, they have since watched and very much enjoyed. Consequently, as my blog is clearly serving a useful purpose, I've devised a means by which I can alert readers to more movies than I've been able to do lately.

Namely, rather than only presenting full-length reviews or mini-reviews written by me, I shall also be providing collections of what I am referring to as alerts – i.e. short but concise accounts of movies viewed by me that I feel may be of viewing interest to others too. Each movie alert (which I shall type in blue) will simply take the form of basic details (an identifying image, the director, production company/ies, distribution/release company, and release date) for that movie, plus excerpts quoted from its own official blurb as present on the back cover of its DVD/video or press release, naming its principal stars and including a brief plot resume; or from IMBd's summary if there are insufficient details on the above-named sources. This will thereby enable readers to determine for themselves straight away whether or not the movie in question is likely be of interest to them. I may also add a comment or two of my own (distinguished by not being typed in blue) if there are any specific aspects that I wish to emphasise or expand upon.

Finally: just because they are represented here on my blog by alerts, this does not necessarily mean that I shall never produce a full review or even a mini-review of any alert-documented movies at some stage in the future. Moreover, if I do prepare full or mini-reviews of any alert movie, I shall then delete its respective alert and replace it with an alert for some other movie. So be sure to check back regularly to alert pages, as their content is likely to change from time to time.

I hope that you'll like my blog content's new, additional format, which, as explained above, will permit me to document far more films in far less time than was previously true, especially given my present close-up vision issues. But, rest assured, I shall also continue to write full reviews and mini-reviews as and when time and eyesight permit, but because of the alerts appearing on what I hope will be a much more frequent basis this will no longer be such an imperative task for me in order to keep abreast of my movie viewing. Thanks for your understanding and alert appreciation.

Anyway, to give this first set of alerts a theme of sorts, all three of the ones presented here today refer to movies that I've watched lately from my ex-rental big box video collection, which include some that do not appear to have been released in DVD or Blu-Ray (or not readily-accessible ones anyway), so may well be unfamiliar to many film fans. NB – All images are reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only.

 

 

Full cover of the ex-rental big box video for the British television fantasy/drama/horror movie The Magic Toyshop (© David Wheatley/Angela Carter/Granada Television/first broadcast by ITV in 1988)

THE MAGIC TOYSHOP

From IMBd's entry for this movie: After her parents are killed in a plane crash over the Grand Canyon, Melanie [Caroline Milmoe], a teenager girl and her younger brother and sister are sent to London to live with their uncle, Philip [Tom Bell]. There, she meets his mute wife Margaret [Patricia Kerrigan], who is mistreated by and terrified of her husband and only converses through notes. She also meets Margaret's younger brothers Francie [Lorcan Cranitch], a fiddler, and the rakish Finn [Kilian McKenna]. Her uncle is a toy maker, [and] secretly has the power to make his toys come to life, but he also maintains dictatorial control over his family and intends to exercise the same control over the new arrival.

The teleplay and story for this almost two-hour-long movie are by Angela Carter, adapted from her original novel from 1967. The latter is popularly categorized as belonging to the magic realism genre of literature, but having read it shortly after watching this movie I can readily state that, to my great disappointment, it is singularly bereft of magic – unlike the movie, which is plentifully supplied with it, culminating in a truly shocking, totally surreal climax. An incredibly difficult movie to track down in physical format but thoroughly mesmerizing and well worth seeking out, The Magic Toyshop can currently be viewed for free via a somewhat inferior-quality but nonetheless watchable full upload on YouTube – so click here to do so while you can!

 

 

Front cover of my ex-rental big box video of the American musical drama movie Sing (© Richard J. Baskin/Tri-Star Pictures/released in 1989)

SING

From my video's back cover blurb: Set on the tough, volatile streets of Brooklyn, Sing is a story of ordinary lives and extraordinary dreams. A song and dance competition set in the Brooklyn schools, 'Sing' offers the young people the chance to express their personal exhilaration, desperation and passion. Sing follows the lives of three such people – Dominic (Peter Dobson), a defiant, discontented street fighter; Hannah (Jessica Steen) who yearns for a better life; and their teacher Miss Lombardo (Lorraine Bracco), whose determination and energy is an inspiration to them both. Together, these three people become a symbol of hope and ultimate survival in a community struggling with social change.

Until I watched this movie, as a Brit I was unaware of the annual SING! competition staged in some of New York's high schools, and upon which this movie is based. Run by the schools' own students, it takes the form of a a musical theatre competition between various grades within each school. As for this movie, which I thoroughly enjoyed, Sing can currently be watched in its entirety for free on YouTube by clicking here.

 

F

ront cover of my ex-rental big box video of the American musical drama movie Headin' For Broadway (© Joseph Brooks (director/producer/co-writer)/20^th Century Fox, released in 1980)

HEADIN' FOR BROADWAY

From my video's back cover blurb: Headin' For Broadway springs into spectacular life where Fame left off. They are now looking for that starring role which is going to bring them fame and fortune – but it's a slightly more rocky path than they originally thought! This bubbly lightning-fast production will give you not only the glamour and pezzaz but also the traumas and disappointments of trying to break into the most difficult profession. An extravaganza of light and joy from beginning to end!

One of the four hopefuls whom we follow throughout the movie as they strive for that crucial shot at fame on Broadway is uber-confident extrovert Fast Eddie, played by Rex Smith, who in real life closely paralleled in the States a popular performer here in the UK, Paul Nicholas. Back in the 1970s and early 1980s, both of them were shaggy-haired, insanely handsome, highly-talented and much sought-after young actors who also happened to be successful pop singers, both with several entries to their names in the singles and album charts within their respective countries and beyond, before moving on to more serious stage and screen roles. Smith acquired worldwide fame during the mid-1980s courtesy of the TV show Street Hawk, in which he played Jesse Mach, a special police crime-fighter riding Street Hawk, which was a futuristic motorbike equipped with incredible capabilities (so, needless to say, I was a big fan of the show, never missing an episode!). Headin' For Broadway, which again I thoroughly enjoyed, can also currently be watched in its entirety for free on YouTube, by clicking here.

 

Finally: to view a complete chronological listing of all of my Shuker In MovieLand blog's film reviews, articles, and alert batches (each one instantly accessible via a direct clickable link), please click HERE, and please click HERE to view a complete fully-clickable alphabetical listing of them.

 

 

LA PASSIONE

My official UK sell-thru VHS video of La Passione (© John B. Hobbs/Chris Rea/Warner Vision – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

If ever I was despairing of ever tracking down some item that I'd long sought but always unsuccessfully, Mom would smile and say: "Everything comes to he who waits". And so true did her words prove again on 20 September 2024. Back in 1996, British rock musician Chris Rea conceived, and penned all the music for, a semi-autobiographical movie entitled La Passione (Italian for 'the passion'), which is all about a young boy growing up in northeastern England during the early 1960s but of Italian immigrant descent, and whose family has imbued him with an interest – indeed, a passion – for motor-racing, but most especially for the Ferrari team and their signature blood red racing cars. The movie charts his development from child to adult with his Ferrari infatuation undimmed, and also features several Rea-penned songs, including two wonderful ones sung divinely by Dame Shirley Bassey. In fact, it was originally hearing those songs long ago that incited an interest, a passion, all of my own – to track down the movie in which they appeared and watch it.

But as La Passione has never been released on either DVD or Blu-Ray, is not present on YouTube or other legal online movie sites that I've scoured, does not appear to have ever been screened on British TV, and with the now-rare official UK sell-thru VHS video release of it listed on auction sites for extraordinary amounts – the cheapest example currently on ebay is priced at £49.99 – finding it seemed a remote hope. Until 20 September, that is, when I walked into a local charity shop, and there, among a pile of other second-hand UK sell-thru VHS videos, all priced at just 50p, was a mint example of La Passione, which I instantly purchased. So now I was finally able to view this elusive movie, and acknowlege, as I have done so many times previously, the wisdom of my late mother's words. Six days later, on 26 September 2024, I sat down and duly watched La Passione, plus the 30-minute 'making of the movie' interview with Chris Rea that followed it, so here now is my take on this film:

Directed by John B. Hobbs, but written by Chris Rea who also composed all of its music, including all songs, and released in 1996 by Warner Vision, La Passione is an unusual movie inasmuch as it incorporates several very different film genres, and is therefore best described perhaps as a semi-autobiographical motor-racing fantasy musical, though in reality – a humdrum concept that rarely intrudes upon its story, thankfully – it is more than any of these individual or collective components.

La Passione tells the story of a young boy, Jo Maldini (played by Thomas Orange), growing up in the industrial North-East of England during the early 1960s, whose family's male members, i.e. his father (Paul Shane) and uncles, of Italian descent, are all enthusiastic motor-racing fans, following with great fervour and passion (la passione) Italy's iconic Ferrari Formula One team.

When Jo watches a F1 race for the very first time (the 1961 Monaco Grand Prix), on their humble little b/w TV, he asks his father what colour the Ferrari cars are, which at that time were the famous Ferrari 156 'sharknose' racers, and his father replies: "Blood red!". From that moment on, Jo is totally besotted with Ferrari, their cars, and especially with their world-famous real-life driver, a very charismatic German count named Wolfgang von Trips (1928-1961), who was born in Cologne, and is played in this movie by Benedick Blythe.

Indeed, to the consternation of his family, Jo becomes so infatuated with the German driver – someone whom he has never even met and who is wholly oblivious to Jo's very existence – that he lives vicariously through the life that with the typical romantic innocence of a young child he imagines such an aristocratic, super-stylish, universally-popular figure as von Trips must surely be living in his grand castle and racing in and around Europe, adored by everyone. Consequently, when a horrific crash during the Italian F1 Grand Prix race at Monza in 1961 claims the life of his hero, Jo is totally distraught.

Years later, and now a young man (played by Sean Gallagher), Jo still grieves for von Trips, but his passion for Ferrari and their blood red sharknose racers remains undiminished, even though his own life is as dull as ever. For he is consigned now to a dead-end, joyless job working in his father's ice-cream parlour, which is barely keeping afloat financially, and spending three hours every day cleaning out the ice-cream machine, which is a hard, dirty, thankless but necessary task.

One day, however, Jo hits upon a possible money-making scheme. No matter how much he washes, bathes, and showers after cleaning the ice-cream machine, he is never able to wash off his skin the strong vanilla smell of the ice cream, but to his great surprise he discovers that young women find it irresistible! As the specific vanilla formula that his father uses for his ice cream is one devised by his forefathers, handed down their family from one generation of ice-cream makers to the next, and thence to him, Jo proposes to his father that they use it as the basis for a completely new product – aftershave. However, his very traditionally-minded father is horrified by such a radical suggestion, and denounces it, and Jo, in no uncertain terms!

Totally despondent and disillusioned, Jo steals a sample of the vanilla, leaves for London, and after incorporating it into a range of products including perfume as well as aftershave under his own trade-name, La Passione, he becomes an immensely rich, mega-successful tycoon – so much so that he is at last able to turn his lifelong obsession into a tangible reality, buying every Ferrari car that he could ever want, and also spending time following the trail across Europe that his hero von Trips had once blazed.

He is even visited sometimes by the German racer's ghost, most dramatically at Monza, still driving his Ferrari sharknose, but von Trips's advice to him, combined with his own experiences, propels an increasingly jaded Jo to the stark realisation that it is the joy of a passion that counts, not all the material aspects of it, which tend only to drag it down from its elevated heights to the grim mundanity of reality, which in Jo's case includes the physical duties and responsibilities that owning and maintaining a fleet of Ferraris inevitably entails.

Consequently, Jo sells his La Passione empire to another businessman, and albeit still driving a Ferrari, though no longer a blood red one, returns to his father, who greets him warmly. His son, his prodigal son, is back, and together they will now enjoy together, to quote another Italian phrase, la dolce vita, the sweet life.

 

The real Wolfgang von Trips (centre, in red shirt), at the 1957 Argentine Grand Prix (public domain)

La Passione is a movie with a distinctly episodic structure, each episode progressing the plot yet also largely self-contained, and featuring either a segment of lush orchestral instrumental music, or a song. As noted earlier, my favourite songs are the two performed on-screen by Dame Shirley Bassey, making her on-screen movie debut here. (Moreover, it is the last movie of legendary actress Carmen Silvera, who plays Jo's stern but doting Italian grandmother.)

The first of these songs, 'Shirley Do You Own A Ferrari?', which also features Rea singing the role of Jo, is a very heartfelt and melodic but also somewhat wistful, wish-fulfilment number. It appears in a fantasy scene where the adult Jo, still working for his father at the ice cream parlour, meets Dame Shirley outside in the snow one winter morning, and he asks her in song that pertinent question after his father had mentioned how magnificent she had been on TV the previous evening. The remainder of the song is Dame Shirley's reply. Needless to say, the colour of her spectacular gown is blood red (click here to watch this lavish musical scene on YouTube).

The second is this movie's title song, 'La Passione', sung by Dame Shirley as we watch how Jo becomes a tycoon via the realisation, followed by the immense success, of his La Passione perfume and aftershave brand, and the luxurious jet-set life that he now leads, including purchasing every blood red Ferrari that catches his eye (click here to watch this heady, hedonistic musical scene on YouTube). There are also some solo Rea-sung numbers, none of which I'd heard before, but which again I enjoyed, especially 'Girl in a Sports Car' (click here to watch on YouTube this musical fantasy scene that Jo is daydreaming while alone in the ice-cream parlour) and 'When The Grey Skies Turn To Blue' (click here to watch on YouTube this very moving musical scene, the final scene in the entire movie, featuring redemption and reconciliation for both son and father), plus the devotional 'Dov'è Il Signore?' ('Where is the Lord?') sung by chorister Toby Draper (click here to listen to it on YouTube). Indeed, the soundtrack to this movie, written entirely by Rea, proved sufficiently popular when released to reach #43 in the UK album charts. And an up-tempo version of the title song, still featuring Dame Shirley but retitled ''Disco' La Passione', entered the UK singles chart, reaching #41, but placed higher in the Belgian and Dutch singles charts, and proved very popular throughout Europe.

As noted above, La Passione contains a number of fantasy scenes, supplemented by songs and even a couple of brief dance routines, which in my view makes it a musical, but then again it also features some fascinating stock footage of Formula One races from the early 1960s and in particular some rare, scarcely-seen clips of von Trips both on the racing circuit and relaxing with friends and family. In a 30-minute official 'making of the movie' interview that follows the movie itself on my video, Rea reveals that these clips were kindly loaned to him for use in the film by a tiny museum in Cologne dedicated to von Trips. In return, Rea generously made available to the museum on permanent loan, the exact replica used in La Passione of the Ferrari 156 sharknose that von Trips had raced prior to his untimely death in 1961, aged only 33. No original sharknoses still existed by the time that Rea came to make his movie (Ferrari factory policy during the early 1960s meant that they had all been scrapped), but a Lotus engineer friend offered to build a working replica for him, which he did, and this is what duly appeared in the movie and was subsequently loaned to the museum. Another replica was built by a motor-racing enthusiast, and a third one is exhibited at the Museo (formerly Galleria) Ferrari, based in Ferrari's home town of Maranello, near Moderna, Italy.

I've read quite a few professional reviews of La Passione, and have been dismayed by the negative tones and comments in some of them, which largely dismiss it as a bland, superficial vanity project. True, Rea is indeed of Italian descent and grew up in the North East of England, his father was indeed an ice cream seller, and Rea has indeed always been passionate about Ferraris, meaning that this movie was very much a personal labour of love project for him, but what is wrong with that? Such projects often provide a refreshing change from the all-too-often formulaic, repetitive nature of Hollywood studios' big-budget output, and this movie certainly does, so I totally disagree with their less than glowing assessments of it.

Anyone who harbours a heart and not a swinging block of concrete inside their chest cannot be other than moved emotionally by the young Jo's poignant desire to live the glittering life of his hero even though his own modest surroundings and background ostensibly indicate to the viewers that this ain't gonna happen any time soon, only for them to be proved wrong of course when it does – via the magic of a movie like this one! But above all, what Rea has captured so effectively on film is the movie's own title – passion, and plenty of it. And not just passion either – the power of dreams too, and above all else, the limitless, immeasurably potent potential of the imagination.

I had a friend once who stunned me into abject, open-mouthed silence when, while chatting one evening about movies that we had seen, she stated uncompromisingly that she couldn't watch anything that wasn't real. What?? Everyone is born with an imagination, but not everyone chooses to utilize it. Some, like my erstwhile friend, apparently prefer to lock it up and then throw away the key, whereas, in stark contrast, I have always obtained great delight in harnessing my own imagination in order to discover where it will take me and what it will show me. In this respect, I am reminded of another, even earlier friend, who told me that he only ever watched fantasy films, as there was already more than enough dull, unmagical reality in ordinary, everyday life without spending time watching even more of it on screen. This is my view too, though in less extreme form than his, as I do enjoy watching some non-fantasy movies in addition to fantasy ones.

The reason I bring all of this up here is because it seems to me that the film critics who denigrated La Passione and the passion, dreams, and imagination that it conveys and celebrates may themselves be somewhat lacking in those qualities, rather like my first—mentioned friend appeared to be, and may therefore be unsuitable for, possibly even incapable of, offering an unbiased, objective, and informed opinion regarding this movie.

As I am sure that you can tell, I absolutely loved La Passione, and am now even happier than before that I have finally tracked down and watched it. Consequently, if somehow you too ever locate this movie, I definitely recommend that you watch it, and also the interview with Rea afterwards. You do not need to be a motor-racing fan to enjoy it (though I'm sure that this would enhance your pleasure of it even more) – all that you need to have is an imagination, an understanding of what true passion is, and an appreciation of Chris Rea's stirring, emotive music contained in it – a love of the vocal tour de force that is the sensational and most definitely magnificent Dame Shirley Bassey wouldn't go amiss either!

I haven't been able to source an official trailer for La Passione anywhere online, but if you'd like to view for free on YouTube the entire 30-minute post-movie interview with Chris Rea concerning La Passione, which is extremely interesting and informative, please click here.

Finally: to view a complete chronological listing of all of my Shuker In MovieLand blog's other film reviews and articles (each one instantly accessible via a direct clickable link), please click HERE, and please click HERE to view a complete fully-clickable alphabetical listing of them.

 

A 1961 Ferrari 156 sharknose racer (© Calreyn88/Wikipedia – CC BY 4.0 licence)

 

The back cover of my official UK sell-thu VHS video of La Passione (© John B. Hobbs/Chris Rea/Warner Vision – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

 

 

JACK THE GIANT KILLER (1962)

 

My official 50^th Anniversary Edition DVD of Jack the Giant Killer (© Nathan H. Juran/Zenith Pictures/United Artists – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

My movie watch on 24 August 2024 was a stop-motion classic from the early 1960s – Jack the Giant Killer.

Directed by Nathan H. Juran, co-produced by Edward Small, and originally released in 1962 by United Artists, Jack the Giant Killer stars Kerwin Mathews as Jack, the film's valiant young farmer hero, and he had also lately starred as Sinbad in The 7th Voyage of Sinbad, which was the first of the three iconic Ray Harryhausen stop-motion Sinbad-themed fantasy films. Indeed, because of perceived similarities, Columbia Pictures, who had released the above-named Sinbad movie, threatened to sue the makers of Jack the Giant Killer.

However, the latter avoided legal action by withdrawing the movie in its original form and re-releasing it with additional content as a film musical, the original non-musical version not being re-released for another 30 years. This latter is the version that I watched, however, courtesy of my special 50th Anniversary Edition DVD, which also contains an official folded-up poster of the movie.

Jack the Giant Killer is (very) loosely inspired by the traditional English fairy tale of the same title, but has been greatly expanded on screen, with an evil sorcerer named Pendragon (Torin Thatcher, who had also starred in The 7^th Voyage of Sinbad alongside Mathews) abducting Elaine (Judi Meredith), a Cornish princess, and conjuring forth all manner of monsters in an attempt to thwart Jack's bold attempts to rescue her.

These include not only the single-horned gigantic satyr that Jack had killed earlier when rescuing Elaine but also a two-headed giant, a flying dragon, and some dragon's-teeth warriors, all vividly brought to life via stop-motion animation (as was a bizarre tentacular sea monster that battled the two-headed giant), plus a host of incandescent skeletal witches engendered very effectively on-screen by a novel process dubbed Fantascope.

Yet although very satisfactory, produced as they were by master animator Jim Danforth in one of his earliest film assignments, these did not quite match Harryhausen's spectacular creations, but Don Beddoe as a bottle-entrapped, rhyme-riddling leprechaun who assists Jack in his battles against Pendragon and his minions provides some amusing asides.

Overall, therefore, Jack the Giant Killer is a highly entertaining fantasy film for all the family to watch and enjoy, shot in glorious Technicolor, and with every word of dialogue totally coherent, not a mumble to be mis-heard anywhere. Ah, the good old days!

Worth noting, incidentally, is that in 2013 two separate Jack the Giant Killer-themed fantasy movies were released. Both featured CGI-rendered giants and other monsters, as well as incorporating notable plot elements from another Jack-entitled English folktale – Jack and the Beanstalk. One of these films, Jack the Giant Slayer, was a big-name production, starring the likes of Nicholas Hoult (as Jack), Ian McShane, Ewan McGregor, Bill Nighy, and Eleanor Tomlinson, and is set in medieval times (click here to watch an official trailer for it on YouTube). The other film, Jack the Giant Killer (aka The Giant Killer), was a straight-to-DVD 'mockbuster', starring Ben Cross and Jane March, with Jamie Atkins as Jack, and is set in modern times (click here to watch an official trailer for it on YouTube). As I own both of these movies on DVD, I plan to watch them in the near future, and am particularly intrigued to see how the version set in modern times plays out.

Returning to the 1962 Jack the Giant Killer movie reviewed by me above: if you'd like to watch the official (albeit somewhat colour-diluted) trailer for it, please click here to do so on YouTube, or click here to watch on that site the entire movie free of charge (and in far richer colours).

Finally: to view a complete chronological listing of all of my Shuker In MovieLand blog's other film reviews and articles (each one instantly accessible via a direct clickable link), please click HERE, and please click HERE to view a complete fully-clickable alphabetical listing of them.

 

LIMBERING UP FOR LAMBADA MOVIES!

 

My ex-rental big box VHS videos of Lambada and The Forbidden Dance (© Joel Silberg/Cannon Pictures/Warner Bros / (© Greydon Clark/21^st Century Film Corporation/Columbia Pictures – both images reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

On 20 August 2024, my evening's double movie-watch was definitely a nostalgia night for me, as the two musical films that I watched first became known to me in the early 1990s, when they were regularly available for hire in big box VHS video format at Blockbusters and the many other video rental shops that abounded in every town here in the UK back then. Both of them had as their at least nominal theme that sultry, sensual Brazilian dance the lambada, famed for the intimacy displayed by its dancing partners, and which became an international craze for a short time between the late 1980s and early 1990s. It even spawned a global hit song, 'Lambada', released by the French/Brazilian pop band Kaoma in January 1989. Not only that, several movies were swiftly produced on the back of this dance, to capitalize upon its popularity while it lasted (which wasn't very long, as it happened).

The most famous of these movies were the two American ones watched by me two evenings ago. However, although I was well aware of them from seeing their boxes on display in the video rental shops, I only ever got around to actually hiring out and watching one of them, Lambada (probably because it centred around a rebel biker character who rode the kind of chrome-gleaming mega-Harley that I, as a young starry-eyed biker newbie back then, could only dream about!). The other movie, The Forbidden Dance, conversely, which centred around an ostensibly feisty Amazonian tribal princess, stayed resolutely upon the rental shops' shelves. Once these shops all closed down, however, I never saw either movie for hire or sale anywhere (I'm not even sure if they were ever released in sell-thru video or DVD format), and eventually I all but forgot about them – until just a fortnight ago when, while idly browsing ex-rental big box videos listed on ebay, I chanced upon a seller who had one of each of these two lambada movies for sale. So, with fond memories of my video rental days duly rekindled, I lost no time in buying both of them straight away, and when they arrived I finally watched The Forbidden Dance after a mere 30+ year delay, and rewatched Lambada after the same length of time since originally watching it. So now, here are my compare & contrast views and reviews of thse films, which, as I subsequently discovered, were involved in as much off-screen trials and tribulations as ever occurred on-screen in either of them!

 

 

My ex-rental big box VHS video of Lambada (© Joel Silberg/Cannon Pictures/Warner Bros – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

LAMBADA (aka LAMBADA: SET THE NIGHT ON FIRE)

Directed and co-written by Joel Silberg, and released by Warner Bros on 16 March 1990, Lambada (or Lambada: Set The Night On Fire, to give it the full title by which it is sometimes known in order to distinguish it from The Forbidden Dance aka Lambada: The Forbidden Dance – more about their titular turmoil later), stars J. Eddie Peck as mild-mannered Clark Kent-like maths teacher Kevin Laird at an elite Beverly Hills college by day but who secretly becomes at night a leather-jacketed Harley-riding ex-street gang member named Blade when, while revisiting his teenage downtown LA neighbourhood, he lambadas with the best (and worst!) of them at a barrio night club named No Man's Land. However, just like Superman he does this for all the right reasons, because whilst there he also teaches maths and other school subjects for free in one of the club's back rooms to a group of impoverished but eager-to-learn local youngsters in order to help them pass their School Certificate.

Unfortunately, however, Kevin's double life threatens to come crashing down around his ears when one of his Beverly Hills college students, Sandy (Melora Hardin), happens to pay No Man's Land a visit and spots him there. Worse still, as a result of seeing him in his Blade persona, she develops a serious crush on him, much to Kevin's great concern, because he is a happily-married man who has no romantic interest in her, she is in any case a minor, and her unreliable boyfriend Dean (Ricky Paull Goldin) is insanely jealous about how attracted she is to Kevin (even though it is plainly unrequited) – a highly volatile concoction that could all too readily explode Kevin's teaching career. All sorts of close shaves and comic confusion subsequently arise, but as this is fundamentally a candy-floss feel-good flick, with the kind of wildly implausible, impractical, unfeasible plot that is invariably par for the course in this genre of lightweight movie, everything turns out just fine in the end.

If you are expecting a deep, thought-provoking cinematic experience, Lambada may not be the film for you! What makes it watchable and, indeed, successful by and large as a thoroughly entertaining, enjoyable movie is the undeniable on-screen chemistry between its two leads, Peck and Hardin, plus the sizzling lambada dance scenes featuring a sizeable company of dancers in No Man's Land (there are rumours that these included a very brief appearance by a young Jennifer Lopez, but I didn't spot her). They were choreographed by breakdancer/choreographer Shabba-Doo aka Adolfo Quinones, who also co-stars as Ramon, a troublesome bad boy character within the group of downtown youngsters being surreptitiously taught at the club by Kevin/Blade. Having said that, in view of this movie's title it is surprising how unconnected the lambada dance is to the main plot, featuring in it as little more than an occasional diversion rather than a central, defining aspect of it. Nevertheless, it was good to watch this movie again after more than three decades, and I still found it enjoyable – and yes, despite now having owned two Harleys myself, I still coveted Blade's truly awesome rolling thunder machine! (The closing credits confirm that it had been loaned to Cannon Pictures by Harley-Davidson Motor Co itself, which may explain why it received so much screen time!)

 

 

My ex-rental big box VHS video of The Forbidden Dance (© Greydon Clark/21^st Century Film Corporation/Columbia Pictures – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

THE FORBIDDEN DANCE (aka LAMBADA: THE FORBIDDEN DANCE)

Now to my first (and currently only) viewing of The Forbidden Dance (according to its storyline, incidentally, the lambada is the forbidden dance because it was banned in Brazil for 50 years – yeah, right!). Directed by Greydon Clark, and released by Columbia Pictures on 16 March 1990 (yes indeed, the very same day as Lambada – more about this non-coincidence later!), The Forbidden Dance (aka Lambada: The Forbidden Dance aka The Forbidden Dance Is Lambada, to give it the two alternative full titles by which it is sometimes known in order to distinguish it from Lambada aka Lambada: Set The Night On Fire) stars former Miss USA Laura Harring in her movie debut as Nisa, the daughter (and hence princess) of the king of a native Brazilian Amazonian rainforest tribe whose jungle home is about to be destroyed by an American petroleum company who has purchased the tribe's land by dubious means and is now demanding their eviction. Nisa and the tribe's shaman, Joa (Sid Hauig), imbued with supernatural powers, travel to Los Angeles hoping to meet the company's chairman and call a halt to its plans for their homeland.

Not surprisingly, Nisa's valiant but naïve plan fails to achieve any success, but after unknowingly (by both parties) being hired as a maid by said chairman at his swish Beverly Hills mansion, she encounters his layabout adult son Jason (Jeff James), whose only passion in life is dancing. When he takes her to one of his elite night clubs and dances the lambada with her, he loses all interest in his fractious, brattish girlfriend Ashley (Barbra Brighton), who is not best pleased about this and plots revenge. Meanwhile, once he learns from Nisa the plight of her people and jungle home, Jason hatch a plan with her to win a dancing contest, whose prize is an appearance on national TV via a dance spot in the televised show of none other than real-life band Kid Creole and the Coconuts, thereby giving them precious screen time in which to inform America's nationwide audience about what is happening to the rainforest.

Like Lambada, therefore, this movie has a highly simplistic, unrealistic storyline, but again like Lambada, it is a very entertaining confection of comedy, confusion, and only relatively mild elements of threat and danger, culminating in the inevitable happy ending, and plenty of dancing – not to mention some priceless scenes featuring the surreal powers of shaman Joa! However, on a more serious level it also does not shy away from exposing the racism and prejudice prevalent at that time between certain segments of American society towards Hispanics. Moreover, whereas in spite of its title Lambada only features the eponymous dance almost in passing, in The Fordbidden Dance it is vey much at the heart of the plot throughout the movie, and actually features Kaoma's hit song (conspicuous by its absence in Lambada) as well as the afore-mentioned Kid Creole and the Coconuts, plus the title song 'The Forbidden Dance' sung by José Feliciano. Last, but by no means least, the movie carries a credit dedicating it to the preservation of the rainforest, which can only be a good thing, seeking to promote this vital ecosystem's conservation. So, well done 21^st Century Film Corporation and Columbia Pictures!

 

RIVALRIES ABOUNDING!

Although Lambada was one of the first lambada-themed films off the mark as far as going into production was concerned, the perceived lucrative movie links with this exotic, erotic dance soon launched others in its wake, including most prominently The Forbidden Dance. I'm not sure how much (if any) of the following is true, but I've read in numerous sources that this latter movie was conceived, written,  filmed, and released in a mere matter of weeks, with the original intention of beating Lambada into the cinemas. However, it failed to achieve this goal, though it did succeed in being released on the very same day, 16 March 1990, as Lambada. Making matters even more contentious, The Forbidden Dance was originally entitled Lambada: The Forbidden Dance, but this was deemed one dance step too many as far as the producers of Lambada were concerned, who successfully sued to have the word 'Lambada' removed from their rival film's title, which is why it is now known simply as The Forbidden Dance (though the word 'Lambada' does appear prominently in publicity posters, video covers, etc for it).  Moreover, to eliminate any possible additional confusion between the two movies, the phrase 'Set The Night On Fire', which was originally merely a tag-line for Lambada, is often elevated nowadays to the status of official subtitle for it.

One further source of confusion, which I've seen on several websites, is the claim that Lambada is the sequel to The Forbidden Dance, which as shown here is plainly nonsensical, because the two movies were entirely unrelated, and Lambada actually went into production well before The Forbidden Dance. However, what is true is that there were initially plans for a bona fide sequel to The Forbidden Dance, provisionally entitled Naked Lambada! The Forbidden Dance Continues, but disappointing box office returns for The Forbidden Dance caused these plans to be abandoned.

Speaking of box office returns, Lambada proved the more successful of the two films, earning US $4,263,112 against the US $1,823,154 grossed by The Forbidden Dance (though clearly neither of them was a big hit). Lambada's relative success over its rival was possibly because of its more experienced lead cast members, with J. Eddie Peck in particular being at the peak of his film career at that time (he later concentrated on high-profile roles in TV blockbuster soaps, such as Dynasty, Dallas, The Young and the Restless, All My Children, etc). Incidentally, be sure to check out here my review of his previous movie, The Bite, a monster/horror film released in 1989. True, Harring not only was incredibly beautiful in every scene but also radiated charm and appeared thoroughly captivating, and James's character Jason was extremely likeable, but they lacked the overall experience and on-screen chemistry of Peck and Hardin imho. One major plus for both movies, however, is their respective soundtracks, each of them bursting with vibrant songs from its film.

Finally: I mentioned earlier that several lambada-themed movies were released during much the same period of time. Apart from the two reviewed here, others include the 1989 Turkish movie Lambada, the 1990 Brazilian/Italian movie Lambada (aka Rhythm and Passion), and the 1991 Brazilian movie Lambada starring Thiago Justino. There were also various additional lambada-themed movie projects that were planned but never produced, including Blame It On Lambada, Lambada: The Sound of Love, and even a comedy, Lambadamy, as well as the afore-mentioned sequel to The Forbidden Dance, Naked Lambada!

 

If you feel like engaging in some vicarious lambada action, be sure to click here to watch on YouTube an official trailer for Lambada, and click here to watch on YouTube an official trailer for The Forbidden Dance. I suppose that some may consider these movies to be guilty pleasuees, but I don't feel remotely guilty about watching them, and neither should you – both are thoroughly entertaining, which is what movie-watching is all about, being entertained!

Also: to view a complete chronological listing of all of my Shuker In MovieLand blog's other film reviews and articles (each one instantly accessible via a direct clickable link), please click HERE, and please click HERE to view a complete fully-clickable alphabetical listing of them.

 

'Clark Kent' Kevin transformed into 'Superman' Blade, and not even needing a phone booth to change in!

 

 

WHEN THE QUIFF WAS KING

 

Front cover of my official VHS sell-thru videocassette of When The Quiff Was King (© Ashley Sidaway/Best of British Films and Television Ltd/M.C.E.G. Virgin Vision (U.K.) Ltd – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

On 26 September 2022, nursing a pounding headache that evening, I decided to relax by watching not a movie as such but instead a recently-purchased VHS sell-thru video compilation. Created by Ashley Sidaway, released in 1990 by M.C.E.G. Virgin Vision, and with a running time of 55 minutes, it was entitled When The Quiff Was King, which contains a diverse selection of no fewer than 26 song-featuring scenes from classic British rock'n'roll movie musicals from the late 1950s and the 1960s.

Some of these movies, such as various Cliff Richard ones like Summer Holiday and The Young Ones, are still famous today, whereas others like These Dangerous Years (starring Frankie Vaughan), Tommy the Toreador and It's All Happening (two longstanding favourites of mine, both starring Tommy Steele), and The Ghost Goes Gear (Spencer Davis Group), somewhat less so.

Yet all of them in my eyes – and ears – remain just as fantastic today as they were way back then, when they were the soundtrack to my youth. So I felt the years (not to mention my aches and pains!) slip away as I watched and listened to them, drifting back to the golden age of my childhood when I had my family around me, with so much of my life and theirs still to experience, and long before mobile phones and the internet (wonderful inventions though they are) had appeared on the scene.

Instead, there was music with melodies, foot-tapping rhythms, and lyrics that actually rhymed – remember them? And unforgettable performers like The Shadows, The Hollies, Billy Fury, Lulu, Dusty Springfield, Freddie & The Dreamers, Shane Fenton (who reinvented himself in the 1970s as Alvin Stardust), and Lonnie Donegan, not forgetting of course the various other artists already mentioned by me above. And as all of these, plus many more, are present on this superb video compilation, I was guaranteed a very enjoyable, nostalgic evening of superb sound and vision. Bliss!

Such a shame, therefore, that at least as far as I'm aware, this wonderful compilation has never been re-issued on DVD – but if like me you still own a VCR, and if again like me you hanker back to British rock'n'roll at its very best, be sure to look out for it online, as it quite often appears for sale at reasonable prices on various internet auction sites.

Meanwhile, however, you can get a free taster of what to expect by clicking here to view on YouTube a mini-compilation of excerpts from When The Quiff Was King.

Finally: to view a complete chronological listing of all of my Shuker In MovieLand blog's other film reviews and articles (each one instantly accessible via a direct clickable link), please click HERE, and please click HERE to view a complete fully-clickable alphabetical listing of them.

 

Back cover of my When The Quiff Was King video, providing a complete listing of the 26 song-featuring clips contained on it – please click picture to enlarge it for reading purposes (© Ashley Sidaway/Best of British Films and Television Ltd/M.C.E.G. Virgin Vision (U.K.) Ltd – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

 

THE BATTLE OF THE MODS (aka CRAZY BABY)

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hoto-still of Ricky Shayne as Ricky Fuller in The Battle of the Mods (© Franco Montemurro/Roxy Film/Ultra Film/GG Productions – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only

On 6 December 2023, my movie watch was a strange little cinematic offering – a gritty mid-1960s Italian/German film musical overdubbed in English and variously entitled The Battle of the Mods or Crazy Baby upon release, but nowadays wholly obscure.

Directed by Franco Montemurro, and released in 1966, The Battle of the Mods stars 60s European music star Ricky Shayne as mod guitar player Ricky Fuller residing in Liverpool until his girlfriend is fatally stabbed one Saturday evening when the club where he is performing becomes the scene of a vicious mods vs rockers battle.

 

Close-up of one of Ricky Shayne's LPs with his backing group The Skylarks (© Ricky Shayne and the Skylarks/ARC Records/RCA Victor Records – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

Only narrowly escaping with his life, Ricky flees to France and thence to Italy, to meet in Rome his wealthy English consul father Robert B. Fuller (Joachim Fuchsberger), with whom he has not so much a frosty as a perma-frost longstanding relationship, and also his father's mistress, Sonia (Elga Andersen), with whom he has a much shorter but much more sizzling one!

In addition, Ricky makes some friends in Paris, Genoa, and Rome, survives various hairy encounters with a diverse selection of continental roughs and toughs, meets plenty of pretty young women, sings a lot of relatively tuneful albeit instantly forgettable pop/rock songs (opening the movie with its raunchy alternative title song, 'Crazy Baby') while playing his guitar, and ends his jounreying with a new girlfriend, Martine (Eleonora Brown). And that's about it.

 

Italian publicity poster for The Battle of the Mods (© Franco Montemurro/Roxy Film/Ultra Film/GG Productions – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only

Visually, The Battle of the Mods is a quintessential 1960s European musical flick, a movie sub-genre that generally appeals to me, but I found this particular example to be oddly unengaging, with its central character similarly aloof and emotionally detached.  Still, it passed 90 minutes easily enough, and at least I learnt of French-Lebanese singer/actor Ricky Shayne and his backing group The Skylarks, who collectively turned out to be a big act in continental Europe back in the day (especially in Germany), but not in the UK, which explains why I'd not previously heard of him, or them.

Lastly, Eurovision Song Contest fans may be interested to know that The Battle of the Mods features an appearance by Udo Jürgens, who had won the contest for Austria in the same year, 1966 (but just a few months earlier), when this movie was released.

 

Ricky Shayne playing guitar (public domain)

If you'd like to watch The Battle of the Mods for free on YouTube, pleae click here.

Finally: to view a complete chronological listing of all of my Shuker In MovieLand blog's other film reviews and articles (each one instantly accessible via a direct clickable link), please click HERE, and please click HERE to view a complete fully-clickable alphabetical listing of them.

 

Publicity material for Ricky Shayne and the Skylarks (© unknown to me despite online searches – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)