Category Archives: Behind the Music

60's Counterculture, Behind the Music, Drug Culture, Rock 'n' Roll

England swings like a pendulum do (and a fab 60th anniversary)

July 27, 2026 Dennis Hartley

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on July 25, 2026)

It was 60 years ago today (or thereabouts)…

(from Time magazine, Friday, Apr. 15, 1966)

In this century, every decade has had its city. The fin de siècle belonged to the dreamlike round of Vienna, capital of the inbred Habsburgs and the waltz. In the changing ’20s, Paris provided a moveable feast for Hemingway, Picasso, Fitzgerald and Joyce, while in the chaos after the Great Crash, Berlin briefly erupted with the savage iconoclasm of Brecht and the Bauhaus. During the shell-shocked 1940s, thrusting New York led the way, and in the uneasy 1950s it was the easy Rome of la dolce vita. Today, it is London, a city steeped in tradition, seized by change, liberated by affluence, graced by daffodils and anemones, so green with parks and squares that, as the saying goes, you can walk across it on the grass. In a decade dominated by youth, London has burst into bloom. It swings; it is the scene.

This spring, as never before in modern times, London is switched on. Ancient elegance and new opulence are all tangled up in a dazzling blur of op and pop. The city is alive with birds (girls) and beatles, buzzing with minicars and telly stars, pulsing with half a dozen separate veins of excitement. The guards now change at Buckingham Palace to a Lennon and McCartney tune, and Prince Charles is firmly in the longhair set. In Harold Wilson, Downing Street sports a Yorkshire accent, a working-class attitude and a tolerance toward the young that includes Pop Singer “Screaming” Lord Sutch, who ran against him on the Teen-Age Party ticket in the last election. Mary Quant, who designs those clothes, Vidal Sassoon, the man with the magic comb, and the Rolling Stones, whose music is most In right now, reign as a new breed of royalty. Disks by the thousands spin in a widening orbit of discotheques, and elegant saloons have become gambling parlors. In a once sedate world of faded splendor, everything new, uninhibited and kinky is blooming at the top of London life.

Yeaahh, baby!

I’m a bit of an Anglophile; I particularly love the British music, films and TV shows of that era. In fact, 1966 was a watershed year for British cinema: Alfie, After the Fox, The Deadly Affair, Fahrenheit 451, Funeral in Berlin, Georgy Girl, Morgan!, A Man For All Seasons, The Wrong Box, and of course, Antonioni’s Blow-Up. Here’s my favorite scene:

As for the most memorable UK TV show of ’66, 2 words: Emma Peel.

And lest we forget the music…here are my top picks from the 1966 UK pop singles charts:

Oh…and it was a pretty, pretty good year for those 4 lads from Liverpool as well. On August 5, 1966, the Beatles released Revolver, which I think is not only their best song cycle, but one of the greatest pop albums of all time. In honor of the 60th anniversary of its release, here’s my 2022 appreciation piece. From the beginning…

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on November 5, 2022)

Turn off your mind and empty your wallet: ‘Revolver’ Deluxe review (5-CD edition) ****

The Beatles were beside themselves with glee. Stoned – which they were most of the time in the studio – the experiments became part prank, part innovation. In that ind of dreamy, altered, impractical state, the possibilities were limitless. Recording became no longer just another way of putting out songs, but a new way of creating them.

–from Bob Spitz’s 2005 biography The Beatles, regarding the sessions for Revolver

On August 5, 1966, The Beatles released an LP that not only represents the pinnacle of their oeuvre but remains one of the best pop albums of all time. Yes, as painful as it may be for some of us of “a certain age” to process, Revolver turned 56 years old this year (!).

It’s even more mind-blowing that Revolver arrived just 8 months after Rubber Soul, an album that in and of itself reflected a quantum leap in musical and lyrical sophistication for the band. And whereas Rubber Soul demonstrated an earnest embrace of eclecticism (incorporating everything from rock, pop, and R&B to country, folk, and chanson), Revolver ups the ante further. As Tim Riley nicely summates in his book, Tell Me Why:

Rubber Soul has a romantic astonishment, the echoing realization that teenage quandaries don’t dissipate with age; they dilate. Starker realities intrude on Revolver: embracing life also means accepting death.

That’s a heavy observation; but lest you begin contemplating opening your veins, keep in mind that while “Tomorrow Never Knows” suggests you surrender to the void, and “She Said, She Said” insists I know what it’s like to be dead…this is the same album that gifted us the loopy singalong of “Yellow Submarine” and upbeat pop of “Good Day Sunshine”.

Yet Revolver works as a whole; 14 cuts of pure pop nirvana, with no filler. As someone once astutely observed, “They were probably the most avant-garde group in Britain [in the 1960s], but also the most commercial.” Therein lies the genius of the Beatles; their ability to transcend that dichotomy with sheer talent and craftsmanship.

It is significant to note that when recording sessions for Revolver began in April of 1966, the Beatles were nearing the end of their touring days. It’s a logical assumption that the less time they spent touring, the more time they had to experiment and innovate in the studio. How quickly were they evolving? Consider this, from a 1966 UK newspaper article:

LONDON – They’re calling it the end of an era, the Beatles’ era. […] Last Sunday night, about 200 [fans] picketed the London home of Beatles manager Brian Epstein, demanding to see more of their idols. The foursome has not toured Britain this year and there are no plans for personal appearances […] The obvious conclusion, supported by their words and actions in the past months, is that they are bored with being the Beatles. […] With their success, they have gained a certain sophistication. Their last album, Revolver, was musically far ahead of their efforts at the height of their popularity and they are well aware of the fact. “Songs like ‘Eight Days a Week’ and ‘She Loves You’ sound like right drags to me now,” John told an interviewer recently. “I turn the radio off if they’re on.” *

(*Source: Things We Said Today: Conversations with the Beatles, by Geoffrey and Vrnda Giuliano)

It’s very telling that Lennon distances himself from “Eight Days a Week” and relegates it to a bygone era, even though it was released just the year before (in February of 1965). You just don’t see that kind of accelerated artistic growth nowadays.

At any rate, in celebration of Revolver handily pushing past the half-century mark with very little sign of aging, I thought it would be fun to revisit it, track-by-track, and see why it stands the test of time. In addition to giving a nod to the original UK 14-track sequence, I am prefacing with the double-sided 45 RPM release of “Paperback Writer” and “Rain” – as they were recorded during the same sessions and shore up this truly amazing song cycle.

Paperback Writer – One of the classic riff songs (it may have “inspired” the suspiciously similar hook for the Monkees’ “Pleasant Valley Sunday”), featuring proto-metal guitar tone from George and a sonic Rickenbacker bass line from Paul (who also contributes lead guitar). In a Ray Davies-styled turn, Paul assumes the character of a cynical pulp writer, drafting a letter of introduction that he hopes to be his entree to fame and fortune: Please Sir or Madam, will you read my book? It took me years to write, will you take a look? Later in the song, he synopsizes it as a dirty story of a dirty man…and his clinging wife doesn’t understand. He’s flexible: I can make it longer if you like the style. Listen for George and John’s “Frere Jacques” quote in the backing vocals.

Rain – This is a Lennon song all the way; and generally regarded as the birth of psychedelia (the latter by virtue of actual release date, as it was preceded in the sessions by the equally trippy “Tomorrow Never Knows” the week before). The tune’s signature backward tape-looping was a trick accidentally “discovered” by a stoned John, who put the reels on upside down while listening back to a demo at home. The harmony vocals are very “raga-rock”. It’s a great track, with excellent drumming by Ringo (who concurs, stating once in an interview “I think it’s the best out of all the records I’ve ever made.”).

Taxman – Back in the old days, before “shuffle play” (or “mix tapes”) were a thing, Side 1, Cut 1 held import; it really meant something. Sequencing an LP was a science; as that opening cut set the tone for the next 30 minutes of your life (slightly longer in the UK). This funky number, the first of 3 Harrison contributions to Revolver, is a perfect kickoff. It sports a catchy riff (I’m pretty sure Paul Weller had it stuck in his head when he wrote the Jam song “Start”), and a strident burst of lead guitar by Paul. This is the Beatles’ first foray into agitprop, with a stinging lyric that name checks politicians, and advises Inland Revenue to fuck off.

Eleanor Rigby – This is one of “those” songs that anyone who has ever sat down and attempted to compose a piece of music would gladly sell their soul to have written. Paul’s original working version was the sad tale of a “Miss Daisy Hawkins”, but eventually morphed into the sad tale of an “Eleanor” (after actress Eleanor Bron, who co-starred in the Beatles’ 1965 film, Help) “Rigby” (the name of a shop, according to Paul). It was a masterstroke to add the string backing (Paul’s idea, but producer George Martin’s arrangement), which makes this melancholic, yet hauntingly beautiful song even more so.

I’m Only Sleeping – Lennon really ran with that backward looping thing during these sessions; the resultant “yawning” guitar effect gives this lovely, hypnotic number an appropriately “drowsy” vibe, lulling the listener into an agreeable alpha state for 3 minutes. My favorite take on the song is from Lennon’s BFF Pete Shotten, who observed that it “…brilliantly evokes the state of chemically induced lethargy into which John had…drifted.” Ouch. If you want to hear an unapologetic lift, check out the song “Sweet Dreams” by The Knack.

Love You To – While George had already introduced Beatle fans to the exotic eastern twang of the sitar on Rubber Soul, he later insisted the 13-note run that defines “Norwegian Wood” was “accidental” (he was ever the wry one). There is nothing “accidental” about the Indian influences on this proto-Worldbeat number, which features Anil Bhagwat on tabla, along with “session musicians”. Interestingly, George (sitar and vocals) is the sole Beatle on the track; if I’m not mistaken, the only precedent at that time was “Yesterday” (just Paul, and session players). Akin to “Taxman”, its couplets wax acerbic: There’s people standing round / who’ll screw you in the ground.

Here, There, and Everywhere – Paul has made it no secret that he was really taken by the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds album, so much so that he developed an acute case of Brian Wilson Envy and lobbied his band mates to “go to 11” with Revolver to blow Wilson’s irksome masterpiece out of the water. Brian Wilson later said that Sgt. Pepper’s had a likewise effect on him! At any rate, this achingly beautiful ballad was allegedly Paul’s attempt to one-up “God Only Knows”.

Yellow Submarine – It’s a novelty tune. But as far as novelty tunes go, it’s a classic. This was Ringo’s “one song” for this album (OK, occasionally they would let him sing two, but not as a rule). While it has been interpreted by some to be about drugs, or war, Paul and Ringo insist it was designed to be exactly what it sounds like…a kid’s song (sometimes, a yellow submarine is just a yellow submarine). It sounds like they had fun making it, which apparently they did. George Martin says they “all had a giggle”. He even pitched in on the fade-out chorus, which included Patti Harrison and studio staffers.

She Said She Said –Another psychedelic gem by John, which was literally inspired by psychedelics, written in reference to an acid trip he took in 1965, while partying with The Byrds in L.A. (you know those space cowboys had the good shit). At any rate, the story goes that John got freaked out by Peter Fonda, who kept cornering him and whispering in his ear: “I know what it’s like to be dead.” Obviously, this unsettling mantra stuck with Lennon, who modified the final lyric, so that it became “she” said…I know what it’s like to be dead…

(End of Side 1. I’ll give you a moment to flip the record over.)

Good Day Sunshine – The kickoff to Side 2 is Paul in full cockeyed optimist mode. Everything about it is “happy”, from the lyrics (I feel good, in a special way / I’m in love and it’s a sunny day) and the bright harmonies, to George Martin’s jaunty ragtime piano solo. Paul has said that he was inspired by the Lovin’ Spoonful; and indeed the song does have that “Do You Believe in Magic?” / “Rain on the Roof” / “Daydream” kind of vibe to it. So lighten up!

And Your Bird Can Sing – It’s always fascinating to me how artists view their own work, as opposed to fans’ perceptions. This song is a perfect example. In interviews over the years, John dismissed it as “Another horror.” (Hit Parader, 1972) and “Another of my throwaways.” (Playboy, 1980). But as far as I’m concerned, he was wrong. This easily places in my top 5 Beatles favorites; a perfect 2 minute slab of power pop goodness, replete with chiming open chords for the verses and Lennon’s patented chromatically descending bass lines on the bridge. And for a “throwaway”, its double-tracked harmony guitar parts sound pretty sophisticated to my ears (to this day, I can’t figure out those note runs).

For No One – Another unmistakably “McCartney-esque” ballad; this one a melancholic lament about a relationship gone sour. It features one of Paul’s most beautiful melodies (this guy tosses them off in his sleep-it’s a genuine gift) and sophisticated lyrics. The narrative is the aural equivalent of a “split-screen” view, observing two ex-lovers as they go about their daily routines; one still pines, the other has moved on. Alan Civil’s transcendent horn solo rips your heart out. Lennon once named this as one of his favorite McCartney tunes.

Dr. Robert – Prince had “Dr. Michael”, Michael Jackson had “Dr. Conrad”, Elvis had “Dr. Nick”, but the (more often than not) dubiously titled “personal physician” is no stranger to show biz (or professional sports…or to the rich and famous in general). Back in the 1960s, NYC-based Dr. Charles Roberts became popular with Andy Warhol and the Factory crowd for his, shall we say, open-mindedness when it came to administering “medicine” (mostly in the form of injections; vitamins, speed and even LSD). This was John’s in-jokey homage.

I Want to Tell You – This superb cut from George is one of his best tunes, with a memorable riff. A friend of mine who is more versed in music theory than I (I’m largely self-taught) has been kind enough to occasionally enlighten an old dog on some new scales and chord theory and such (it’s never too late to start). Recently, I asked him to deconstruct this particular song for me, because I’ve always wanted someone to explain why that dissonant piano figure Paul pounds out at the end of each verse “works” so well. Naturally, it went in one ear and out the other, but it made sense to me at the time!

Got to Get You into My Life –Paul’s Motown homage (and possible nod to the Northern Soul movement that flourished in the U.K. at that time) was also one of his most self-consciously “radio-friendly” compositions to date (witness its belated official release as a “single” in 1976, when it managed to climb up to #7 on the charts…six years after the Beatles disbanded). Of course, Paul’s little in-joke may be embedded in the lyrics, which he later confessed to be an ode to the joys of weed (a predilection that once landed him a night in a Japanese jail). At any rate, it’s a fab song, no matter how you interpret it, with a soul/R&B flavored horn chart (a Beatles first).

Tomorrow Never Knows – Just when you think the Fabs couldn’t possibly top the creative juggernaut of the previous 13 cuts, they save the best for last (sequentially, the first number they had worked on for these sessions, which lends the song cycle a poetic symmetry, especially considering the refrain: So play the game “Existence” to the end / Of the beginning…of the beginning…). In a 1980 Playboy interview, John explained, “That’s me in my ‘Tibetan Book of the Dead’ period. I took one of Ringo’s malapropisms as the title, to sort of take the edge off the heavy philosophical lyrics.” It’s heavy, all right-and doesn’t sound like anything in Western pop up to that time; truly innovative. It’s basically a drone in “C”, with John’s vocals recorded through a loudspeaker, which George Martin turned to the side of the studio microphone. This gave John the sound of a “Dalai Lama singing on a hilltop” (as he had requested). Backward tape loops add to the mesmerizing vibe, and Ringo lays down a thunderous, primal beat that drives the tune quite powerfully. Which brings us to the end. Of the beginning…

“All in all, not a bad album” notes Paul McCartney (with possible tongue-in-cheek) in his forward to a 100-page book included with the new 5-CD Revolver Special Edition box set. Revolver is the latest album from the Beatles catalog to get the deluxe treatment (following Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, The White Album, Abbey Road, and Let it Be).

OK, Boomer…here’s the deal. As with previous Beatles deluxe reissues, there are many editions of Revolver (which can be perplexing, even with a little help from your friend Mr. Google). Don’t fret, Beatle people…I’ve done the research and am here to assist. First, a note on the most important part-the music. All the editions feature new mixes by producer Giles Martin and Sam Okell, and are sourced directly from the original four-track master tapes.

A lot of us are budget-conscious right now, so I will begin with the most affordable option, and we’ll work our way up from there. If you just want Revolver classic, with the original 14-tracks and no frills, there’s the 1-CD Special Edition (includes a truncated booklet). If you prefer to kick it old school, there is the original 14-track vinyl LP Special Edition (picture disc).

Upgrading slightly: The 29-track Deluxe 2-CD Special Edition features the 14-track album, a 2nd disc of bonus tracks that includes new stereo mixes of “Paperback Writer” and “Rain” (in addition to demos and studio outtakes), plus a 40-page booklet.

Moving into 3-digit territory: The Special Edition Super Deluxe 5CD (the one I went with) includes the new stereo and mono mixes of the original album (1-disc each), an EP replica CD of “Paperback Writer” and “Rain” (new stereo and mono mixes), 2 additional CDs with bonus tracks (demos, outtakes, alternate mixes, etc.) plus a lovely (hardbound) 100-page book.

If money is no object, there is a limited Special Edition Half-Speed 4 LP + 7″ Vinyl EP box set. And for those who simply must have it all, there is the 63-track Super Deluxe Special Edition, which essentially combines the 5-CD box with the 4 LP/7″ EP set (tossing in digital audio versions in stereo and hi res 96kHz/24-bit stereo + mono + Dolby Atmos for giggles).

Oh, yeah …almost forgot. How do the new mixes sound? Let me put it this way…”Eleanor Rigby” literally had me in tears. Granted, not a happy song to begin with…but I have easily heard it close to 1,000 times, and I detected a new resonance in the strings, a warmth in McCartney’s vocal, an overall clarity and depth to the mix that is truly mind-blowing (the Beatles catalog is so embedded into my neurons that if there is even the slightest of variance in a song…be it but a brush on a string or an intake of breath, I’ll notice it). Ditto the entire album.

Bottom line-if you’re a Beatle fan, just go for it, because…tomorrow never knows.

Previous posts with related themes:

A Cellar Full of Goys: The Beatles Get Back

Paul is Back (he never really left us, luv)

Here, There, and Everywhere Now and Then

One Sweet Dream: On Abbey Road at 50 and an anniversary reissue

Behind the Music, Documentary, On Music

Tribeca 2026: Earth, Wind, and Fire (To Be Celestial VS That’s the Weight of the World) (****)

June 14, 2026 Dennis Hartley

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 13, 2026)

As a self-proclaimed, smarty-pants “musicologist”, I thought I already knew everything there was to know about the wildly successful pop-funk institution Earth, Wind, and Fire. I was wrong. In his absorbing documentary (this year’s Opening Night world premiere), musician and filmmaker Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson (Summer of Soul, Sly Lives!) takes a deep dive into the group’s evolution and flowering, tracing both its musical and spiritual roots.

The lion’s share of screen time is devoted to the group’s late founder and bandleader Maurice White, an ambitious, dynamic and (as it turns out) somewhat complicated and enigmatic individual. I’ll admit that I had no idea White played drums in the Ramsey Lewis Trio from 1966 until 1970 (when he left to form the first iteration of Earth, Wind and Fire). The most fascinating revelation for me was White’s embrace of Afro-futurism, and how he incorporated it into the group’s ethos (while the two bandleaders’ musical styles were quite different, I was struck by a number of similarities with free jazz pioneer Sun Ra’s journey).

The vibe is largely joyful and celebratory, but this is no hagiography. Former group members pull no punches about how mercurial and controlling White could be; some recall how they were made to feel less like creative collaborators and more like employees. Still, they all acknowledge White’s total commitment to his musical vision and how he tirelessly strove for excellence. Inspiring, moving, and packed with jams from a top-shelf catalog. (Now streaming on HBO/MAX).

Behind the Music, Documentary, Radio Biz, Rock 'n' Roll

SIFF 2026: Radioheart: The Drive and Times of DJ Kevin Cole (***)

May 17, 2026 Dennis Hartley

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 16, 2026)

First, full disclosure…from my 2008 review of The Gits:

In the fall of 1992, I moved to Seattle with no particular action plan, and stumbled into a job hosting the Monday-Friday morning drive show on KCMU (now KEXP) , a mostly volunteer, low-wattage, listener supported FM station broadcasting from the UW campus with the hopeful slogan: “Where the music matters.” I remember joking to my friends that my career was going in reverse order, because after 18 years of commercial radio experience, here I was at age 36, finally getting my first part-time college radio gig. I loved it. […]

What I didn’t realize until several years following my 7-month stint there, is that KCMU was semi-legendary in college/alt-underground circles; not only was it literally the first station in the country to “break” Nirvana, but counted members of Mudhoney and Pearl Jam among former DJ staff. I was just a music geek, enthusiastically exploring somebody else’s incredibly cool record collection, whilst taking my listeners along for the ride; in the meantime I obliviously became a peripheral participant in Seattle’s early 90’s “scene”.

And now, I find myself in 2026, writing a review of a documentary about the 25-year tenure of a popular KEXP DJ who started his gig at my old alma mater 7 years after my stint (even on a good day, Time is cruel).

Peter Hilgendorf and Andrew Franks co-directed this absorbing portrait of KEXP’s longtime afternoon drive host Kevin Cole. I’ve often tuned in to his show over the years and enjoyed his knowledgeable, laid-back on-air persona and thoughtful music curation, but had no inkling of his fascinating backstory.

As it turns out, Cole is like the Zelig of alt-music, starting with his involvement in the Minneapolis underground nightclub scene in the ’70s. More specifically, he was a popular house DJ at the legendary First Avenue, right at the time Prince was first making his mark at the venue (in the film, Cole recalls the time the artist shyly approached him at the club and asked him to DJ one of his house parties).

In 1994, Cole was one of the founders of the short-lived but highly influential “REV105”, a Twin Cities-based alternative music FM station. It was a “commercial” radio station, but its programming philosophy was closer in spirit to the free-form, music community-oriented “underground” FM stations that flourished in the late 60s and early 70s. When he moved to Seattle in the early 2000s, he briefly worked for Amazon music.

What emerges is an inspiring portrait of someone whose enthusiasm for discovering and sharing new music is showing no signs of waning. And it’s particularly heartening to learn that rumors about the death of true community radio have been greatly exaggerated.

Behind the Music, On Music, On Pop Culture

Paul is back (he never really left us, luv)

April 13, 2026 Dennis Hartley

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on April 11, 2026)

I swear, Paul is everywhere, man. This documentary premieres on BBC-2 tonight:

Damn, I wish I could get BBC-2 here in the colonies; that’s right in my wheelhouse (yes, I know there are various “ways” to tap into the live feed, but I get the impression they all involve hoisting the pirate flag to the toppermost of the poppermost before setting sail).

Oprah shared a great Macca story with Stephen Colbert this week:

Two weeks ago, Sir Paul rocked L.A. in his first concert dates for 2026:

Playing the first of two nights at the Fonda Theatre in Hollywood Friday night, Paul McCartney acknowledged the tiered arrangement that had VIPs up in the balcony and the hoi polloi down on the floor. “Hello, you people upstairs, in the posh seats,” he said early in the show, and then, “You poor people down here have gotta stand up.” It almost seemed as if he might be alluding to a similar, famous speech given when the Beatles played for British royalty in 1963 — “The people in the cheaper seats, clap your hands, and the rest of you, if you’d just rattle your jewelry.” That was John’s thing, back then, but leave it to both Beatles to have a bemused sense of class consciousness.

Of course, when the world’s most celebrated living musician is playing at a 1,200-capacity venue, everyone in attendance is feeling like a VIP. Maybe most of all those on the floor, who, perhaps more to the point, had reason to feel like lottery winners. While there were some guest-listers at ground level as well, most of those in attendance had made it through a system in which they pre-registered with AXS and were selected for the opportunity to purchase $200 tickets (or a more expensive tier with exclusive merch bags). […]

Although they also got the chance to buy freshly minted merch with the logo of his forthcoming album, “The Boys of Dungeon Lane,” he did not premiere anything from that impending set, nor even play “Days We Left Behind,” which was just released Thursday as his first new single in five and a half years.

McCartney did mention “Days We Left Behind,” which led to the expectation he was about to play the nostalgic ballad, before he set the crowd straight. “We’re in the process of learning it, so don’t ask us to do it” he said, going on to explain what was giving him a little trouble in getting it down for live purposes. “And it’s in B, but I wrote it in C, but for some reason it’s in B.. I said, no, too much for me!” he quipped, apparently writing the disparity off as an Andrew Watt thing. Nonetheless, there were appreciative shouts about the new song, and McCartney replied, “I’m glad you love it.”

The new single is quite lovely, actually:

I daresay, at 83, Paul is starting to act his age:

Looking back at white and black
Reminders of my past
Smoky bars and cheap guitars
But nothing built to last

[CHORUS]
Nothing ever stays
Nothing comes to mind
No one can erase
The days we left behind

See the boys of Dungeon Lane
Along the Mersey shore
Some of them will feel the pain
But some were meant for more

[CHORUS]

[BRIDGE]
We met at Forthlin Road
And wrote a secret code
To never be spoken
I stand by what I said
The promise that I made
Will never be broken

[CHORUS]

In the skies, the skylarks rise
Above the sounds of war
Since that day, I knew they’d stay
With me for evermore

He had me at “…along the Mersey shore”.

Then there’s the new Wings doc that recently dropped on Prime Video:

Yeah, I know…this poor bloke doesn’t get enough coverage. That said, Morgan Neville’s intimate, candid portrait is an absorbing watch; beginning with the dissolution of the Beatles and covering the entire span of Wings’ history (1971-1981). The story of Paul and Linda’s relationship instills the film with a deeply emotional resonance. Worthwhile for fans.

Oh…and Sir Paul will be the musical guest on SNL on May 16th.

You can “OK Boomer” me until the troops come home, but as fucked-up as the world is right now (and on so many levels)…the fact that NASA is back on track and Paul McCartney has released a new one assures me that somewhere, out there in the ether…hope remains for humanity.

Previous posts with related themes:

Here, There, and Everywhere Now and Then

A Cellar Full of Goys: The Beatles Get Back

Turn off your mind and empty your wallet: ‘Revolver’ Deluxe review

Fab Faux: 25 Best Songs the Beatles Never Wrote

Behind the Music, Documentary, On Politics, Rock 'n' Roll

Tickling the ivories and prickling the authorities: The Session Man () & One to One (1/2)

November 17, 2025 Dennis Hartley

By Dennis Hartley

(Orginally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on November 15, 2025)

Better late than never, I suppose. I was happy to learn that the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame finally got around to acknowledging keyboard legend Nicky Hopkins in last week’s induction ceremonies. One could argue that Hopkins (who died in 1994 at age 50 from surgical complications ) was more a “legend” to peers and musos than to the public at large.

That said, his distinctive flourishes added essential color to classics like “Revolution” by The Beatles, “The Song is Over” and “Getting in Tune” by The Who, “She’s a Rainbow”, “Street Fighting Man”, and “Angie” by The Rolling Stones, “You Are So Beautiful” by Joe Cocker, “Imagine” by John Lennon, and “Wooden Ships” by The Jefferson Airplane, to name a few.

Hopkins also did session work on albums by George Harrison, Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr, The Kinks, Cat Stevens, Donovan, Martha Reeves, Peter Frampton, Art Garfunkel, Harry Nilsson, Jennifer Warnes, Graham Parker, et. al., appearing on over 250 albums, all told.

Despite such a busy schedule, he managed to shoehorn in a few official band memberships, most notably with The Jeff Beck Group and The Quicksilver Messenger Service, as well as more short-lived stints with The Jefferson Airplane (performing with them at Woodstock), The Steve Miller Band, New Riders of the Purple Sage, and the one-off supergroup Sweet Thursday (which also featured future Mark-Almond Band vocalist Jon Mark). He also released 3 solo albums; his excellent 1973 effort The Tin Man Was a Dreamer is ripe for rediscovery.

And now Hopkins has received an additional “better late than never” nod, courtesy of Mike Treen’s documentary portrait The Session Man: The story of Nicky Hopkins (opening in UK cinemas November 21, and available now in the U.S. as a pay-per-view watch on various streaming platforms including Amazon Prime, Google Play, VUDU, and Apple TV).

Treen takes a fairly by-the-numbers approach in this low-budget but affable affair, narrated by longtime, dulcet-voiced BBC presenter “Whispering” Bob Harris (a bit of a legend himself). Interviewees include Bill Wyman, Keith Richards, Mick Jagger, Dave Davies, Pete Townshend, Jorma Kaukonen, Terry Reid, Peter Frampton, Heartbreakers keyboardist Benmont Tench, Graham Parker, and Harry Shearer (yes-Hopkins even played on a Spinal Tap album!).

Hopkins’ widow Moira speaks quite movingly of his bouts with substance addiction (which he eventually beat) and lifelong health struggles (his chronic Crohn’s disease played a large part in his untimely passing). Also sprinkled throughout are archival interview snippets with Hopkins, as well as performance clips (although I wish there had been more of the latter). All in all, I think fans should be pleased and Hopkins neophytes intrigued enough to take a deeper dive into his catalogue.

In my review of the 2025 documentary Borrowed Time: Lennon’s Last Decade, I wrote:

I’ll never forget the first time I saw Billy Wilder’s Sunset Boulevard-although I wish I could.

Allow me to explain.

I was all of 24, living in San Francisco. I didn’t own a VCR (they were exorbitantly priced), so I was still watching the tube in (*shudder*) real time. Perusing the TV Guide one December evening, I was excited to spot Sunset Boulevard on the schedule for 8pm (I believe it was airing on independent Bay Area station KTVU).

For the uninitiated, Gloria Swanson’s turn as a fading, high-maintenance movie queen mesmerizes, William Holden embodies the quintessential noir sap, and veteran scene-stealer Erich von Stroheim redefines the meaning of “droll” in a tragicomic journey down the Boulevard of Broken Dreams (I’ve seen it many times since).

At any rate, I was comfortably ensconced on the couch, really digging the film (despite myriad commercial breaks). Approximately 20 minutes into the broadcast, the station unceremoniously cut away from the film for a news bulletin: former Beatle John Lennon had been shot and killed in New York City.

It was eerie kismet, as the film opens with the shooting death of the protagonist/narrator (played by Holden), and is ultimately a rumination on the dark side of fame.

Being an avid Fabs fan, it kind of harshed my mellow. Still does, actually-whenever the subject comes up.

It’s hard to believe that was 45 years ago (5 years longer than Lennon’s lifespan). Over the ensuing decades, there has certainly been no shortage of documentaries and biopics covering Lennon’s life and work. At this point, I think I’ve seen most of them.

Consequently, one would assume that there are very few secrets, revelations and angles left to explore. Yet, 2025 has seen the release of no less than two new Lennon documentaries (and the year is still young).

Now that the year is not so young (where does the time go?), and I’ve had an opportunity to screen One to One: John & Yoko (which had its HBO/MAX premiere November 14), I can share a few thoughts on yet another documentary about John & Yoko (enough already!).

Well I’ll be damned if co-directors Kevin Macdonald (One Day in September, The Last King of Scotland, Touching the Void, State of Play, Marley) and Sam Rice-Edwards haven’t assembled a fresh and absorbing take on an oft-told tale…but perhaps not for the reasons you may think.

Using beautifully restored performance footage from John and Yoko’s 1972 Madison Square Garden concert (a benefit for the children who were institutionalized at Staten Island’s Willowbrook facility) as a framing device, Macdonald and Edwards’ film is essentially an encapsulation of the intense sociopolitical turmoil in America from 1971-1973.

This time window encompassed an 18-month period when John and Yoko lived in a small Greenwich Village apartment, which coincided with their increasing political activism (which ultimately got them into hot water with the Nixon administration). Most of the “new” footage concerns John and Yoko’s behind the scenes plans for their “Free the People” tour, which was scrapped after a falling out with Jerry Rubin. The impetus for the 1972 Willowbrook benefit was a TV report by Geraldo Rivera on the shocking conditions in the children’s ward (believe it or not, there was a time when Geraldo was a real journalist).

On a more personal note, 1971-1973 also encompassed my high school years (I graduated in May of 1974), and watching the film triggered memories of witnessing mayhem and discord on Walter Cronkite’s nightly broadcast…images of police beating the shit out of protestors just a couple years my senior, the Attica prison massacre, hijackings, horrific scenes from Vietnam, and the emerging Watergate scandal as Nixon took office for a second term (is it any wonder many of us “of a certain age” entered adulthood with such a cynical worldview?).

The most unexpected takeaway from the documentary were the spooky parallels between then and now, vis a vis the political climate. The massive street protests against Nixon’s reactionary administration (No Kings, anyone?), the tribalism of “hardhats” (essentially the MAGAs of their day) vs. the antiwar protestors (“radical Leftist Democrats!”), footage of George Wallace from a 1972 presidential campaign speech where he goes off on a race-baiting diatribe about how Washington D.C. is (in so many words) a crime-ridden hellhole (sound familiar?).

The icing on the cake is when Nixon sics his justice department on John and Yoko and begins building a case for deportation, essentially as retaliation for their political activism . I mean, could you imagine that kind of thing happening in America in 2025?! Oh, wait…

(One to One: John & Yoko is now on the HBO schedule and available on-demand from MAX)

Behind the Music, Documentary, On Music, Rock 'n' Roll

Tribeca 2025: Billy Idol Should Be Dead (***)

June 19, 2025 Dennis Hartley

By Dennis Hartley

Jonas Åkerlund ‘s rock doc is a fairly straightforward portrait of William Michael Albert Broad, noted member of the Bromley Contingent. Okay…you know him better as Billy Idol, and “The Bromley Contingent” (which featured future members of The Clash and Siouxsee and the Banshees, among other seminal punkers) was basically an unofficial fan club that followed the Sex Pistols around on their earliest UK gigs. Billy, of course, was destined for bigger things, so he did not remain a mere fanboy for long.

Mixing archival footage with present-day ruminations from Idol (still alive!) Åkerlund retraces the rocker’s trajectory from co-founder of Generation X (one of the first punk bands to perform on the BBC’s Top of the Pops program) to MTV superstar and beyond.

The price of fame is paid in full along the way; sex, drugs, and rock and roll takes its toll…but like some kind of sneering, leather-clad Energizer Bunny, Idol somehow just keeps going, and going. The present-day Idol is thoughtful, self-reflective, and surprisingly candid about where he’s been and where he’s headed. Being partial to Idol’s pre-MTV output, I found his punk era to be the most absorbing portion of the doc, but overall it should be an enjoyable ride for fans.

Behind the Music, Documentary, On Music, Rock 'n' Roll

Living in the 70s: Borrowed Time-Lennon’s Last Decade (**1/2)

April 28, 2025 Dennis Hartley

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on April 26, 2025)

Fame (fame) what you like is in the limo
Fame (fame) what you get is no tomorrow
Fame (fame) what you need you have to borrow

– from “Fame” by David Bowie (backing vocal by John Lennon)

I’ll never forget the first time I saw Billy Wilder’s Sunset Boulevard-although I wish I could.

Allow me to explain.

I was all of 24, living in San Francisco. I didn’t own a VCR (they were exorbitantly priced), so I was still watching the tube in (*shudder*) real time. Perusing the TV Guide one December evening, I was excited to spot Sunset Boulevard on the schedule for 8pm (I believe it was airing on independent Bay Area station KTVU).

For the uninitiated, Gloria Swanson’s turn as a fading, high-maintenance movie queen mesmerizes, William Holden embodies the quintessential noir sap, and veteran scene-stealer Erich von Stroheim redefines the meaning of “droll” in a tragicomic journey down the Boulevard of Broken Dreams (I’ve seen it many times since).

At any rate, I was comfortably ensconced on the couch, really digging the film (despite myriad commercial breaks). Approximately 20 minutes into the broadcast, the station unceremoniously cut away from the film for a news bulletin: former Beatle John Lennon had been shot and killed in New York City.

It was eerie kismet, as the film opens with the shooting death of the protagonist/narrator (played by Holden), and is ultimately a rumination on the dark side of fame.

Being an avid Fabs fan, it kind of harshed my mellow. Still does, actually-whenever the subject comes up.

It’s hard to believe that was 45 years ago (5 years longer than Lennon’s lifespan). Over the ensuing decades, there has certainly been no shortage of documentaries and biopics covering Lennon’s life and work. At this point, I think I’ve seen most of them.

Consequently, one would assume that there are very few secrets, revelations and angles left to explore. Yet, 2025 has seen the release of no less than two new Lennon documentaries (and the year is still young).

First, there’s One to One: John and Yoko:

I haven’t seen it yet (it will be available to rent on streaming platforms beginning on May 9th).

This is the other doc (more on that in a moment)…

Directed by Alan G. Parker, Borrowed Time promises to “…set the record straight on the truth behind many famous Lennon moments, brought to life by rare archive footage, including never-before-seen interviews.”

So does it deliver? Well, in a fashion. As Lennon himself once implored, “All I want is the truth…just gimme some truth.” In context of the director’s approach, you may have to settle for “benefit of the doubt”.

I make that qualification because the lion’s share of screen time is devoted to talking heads. As promised, there are indeed “never-before-seen interviews” with former musical collaborators (Vinny Appice and Earl Slick), as well as music industry insiders, presenters, writers, and journalists (the BBC’s “Whispering” Bob Harris, Anthony DeCurtis, Barry Miles, Pamela Des Barres, Apple Records CEO Tony Bramwell, et.al.).

However, their stories are purely anecdotal; the backstage tales are engaging enough at first, but by the 2-hour mark they began to feel redundant and were not necessarily revelatory. Archival interviews help mix things up a bit, but overall it’s a static affair.

Then there’s the elephant in the room: zero Lennon music. I realize it can be challenging and/or simply too cost-prohibitive to secure permission to utilize copyrighted material in a film; but when you try to paint a portrait of an artist without any paint on your palette, more often than not you are likely to end up with an empty canvas.

Note: the version I previewed is the 134-minute theatrical cut that will be opening in the U.K. only on May 2. However, there is a 3.5 hour director’s cut out on the same date, which will be streaming for a month on the Icon Film Channel and also available to subscribers of the Amazon Prime Video Channels.

Behind the Music, Documentary, Jazz Musicians, On Music

Blu-ray reissue: Let’s Get Lost (****)

January 27, 2025 Dennis Hartley

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on January 25, 2025)

Let’s Get Lost (Kino Classics)

The life of horn player/vocalist Chet Baker is a tragedian’s dream; a classic tale of a talented artist who peaked early, then promptly set about self-destructing. Sort of the Montgomery Clift of jazz, he was graced by the gods with an otherworldly physical beauty and a gift for expressing his art. By age 24 he had already gigged with Stan Getz, Charlie Parker and Gerry Mulligan. He began chasing the dragon in the 1950s, leading to jail time and a career slide.

There are conflicting versions of the circumstances that led to a brutal beating in 1968, but the resultant injuries to his mouth impaired his playing abilities. While he never kicked the substance abuse, he eventually got his mojo back, and enjoyed a resurgence of his career in his final decade (he was only 58 when he died).

The nodded-out Chet Baker we see in Bruce Weber’s extraordinary warts-and-all 1988 documentary (beautifully shot in B&W) is a man who appears several decades older than his chronological age (and sadly, as it turned out, has about a year left to live). Still, there are amazing (if fleeting) moments of clarity, where we get a glimpse of the genius that still burned within this tortured soul.

One scene in particular, where Weber holds a close up of Baker’s ravaged road map of a face as he croons a plaintive rendition of Elvis Costello’s “Almost Blue”, has to be one of the most naked, heartbreaking vocal performances ever captured on film. Haunting and one-of-a-kind, this is a must-see. The film snagged a well-deserved 1989 Critics Prize at the Venice Film Festival.

Kino Classic’s 2025 Blu-ray edition sports a beautiful 4K picture restoration and newly remixed audio (noticeable improvements over Metrodome’s 2008 Region 2 DVD). The package also features a number of Weber’s short films. It would have been nice to include the two Weber-directed Chet Baker music videos that are on the 2008 DVD (which also contains two short films curiously not included on the Kino Blu-ray)…but that’s a minor quibble, as I was just happy to see this fabulous doc get an upgrade.

Behind the Music, Documentary, Drama, Politics

The Obligatory Year-End List

December 9, 2024 Dennis Hartley

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on December 7, 2024)

Yes, I know. That’s an oddly generic (some might even say silly) title for a post by someone who has been scribbling about film here for 18 years. Obviously, I love movies. That said, I am about to make a shameful confession (and please withhold your angry cards and letters until you’ve heard me out). Are you sitting down? Here goes:

I haven’t stepped foot in a movie theater since January of 2020.

There. I’ve said it, in front of God and all 7 of my regular readers.

*sigh* I can still remember it, as if it were yesterday:

It turns out that it is not just my imagination (running away with me). A quick Google search of “Seattle rain records” yields such cheery results as a January 29^th CNN headline IT’S SUNLESS IN SEATTLE AS CITY WEATHERS ONE OF THE GLOOMIEST STRETCHES IN RECENT HISTORY and a Feb 1^st Seattle P-I story slugged with SEATTLE BREAKS RECORD WITH RAIN ON 30 DAYS IN A MONTH. Good times!

February was a bit better: 15 rainy days with 4.1 hours a day of average sunshine. But hey-I didn’t move to the Emerald City to be “happy”. No, I moved to a city that averages 300 cloudy days a year in order to justify my predilection for a sedentary indoor lifestyle.

In fact it was a marvelously gloomy, stormy Sunday afternoon in late January when I ventured out to see Japanese anime master Makato Shinkai’s newest film Weathering with You (yes, this is a tardy review gentle reader…but what do you expect at these prices?). Gregory’s Girl meets The Lathe of Heaven in Shinkai’s romantic fantasy-drama.

That excerpt is from my review of Weathering With You, published February 9, 2020. If I had only known of the more insidious tempest about to make landfall, I would have savored that “…marvelously gloomy, stormy Sunday afternoon in late January” (and every kernel of my ridiculously overpriced popcorn) even more.

Of course, I’m referring to the COVID pandemic, which would soon put the kibosh on venturing to movie theaters (much less any public brick-and-mortar space in general) for quite a spell. Keep in mind, I live in Seattle, which is where the first reported outbreak of note in the continental U.S. occurred; I think it’s fair to say that the fear and paranoia became ingrained here much earlier on than in other parts of the country (and justifiably so).

Well, that’s all fine and dandy (you’re thinking)…but hasn’t the fear and paranoia abated since everything “opened up” again in (2022? 2021? I’ve lost track of the time-space continuum)? Here’s the thing-even before the pandemic, I had been going to theaters less and less frequently due to physical issues. I won’t bore you with details, suffice it to say I had both knees replaced (the first in 2014, the second in 2016)…but it didn’t quite “take”. And admittedly, I still mask up whenever I go to any public venue (including the grocery store). Perhaps that all adds up to “functional agoraphobia” (maybe one of you psych majors can help me out here?).

And you know what? I’m also tired of dealing with traffic, parking hassles, fellow theater patrons who are oblivious to people with disabilities, and astronomical ticket prices (add the $7 box of Junior Mints, and it’s cheaper to wait several months and just buy the Blu-ray).

And get off my lawn, goddammit.

Anyhoo, I haven’t been dashing out on opening weekend to see many first-run films in recent years; at least not the major studio releases that are playing on a bazillion screens. But thanks to “virtual” film festival accreditation, I am still able to screen and review a number of “new” movies (albeit many that have yet to find wider distribution).

So that is my long-winded way of explaining why I have decided not to entitle this (obligatory) end-of-year roundup as “the best” 10 films of 2024. Rather, out of the new films I reviewed on Hullabaloo this year, here are the 10 standouts (sans sand worms or wicked witches). I’ve noted the titles now streaming …hopefully the rest are coming soon to a theater near you!

Bonjour Switzerland (original title: Bon Schuur Ticino) – Bananas meets The Mouse That Roared in this refreshingly old-school political satire directed by Peter Luisi. Beat Schlatter (who co-wrote the screenplay with the director) stars as a mild-mannered German-speaking federal agent who gets tasked with overseeing implementation of a controversial new Swiss law that mandates French as the country’s official language (in true Peter Sellers fashion, Schlatter also plays the high-profile media demagogue who pushed for the law). Problems quickly pile up for the hapless agent; he can barely speak French, his dear old mom becomes radicalized, and he finds himself falling for an Italian woman who belongs to a separatist group he’s been assigned to infiltrate. OK, I’ll say it: This is a hilarious, good-natured romp.

The Dog Thief (original title: El ladrón de perros) – The future doesn’t look so bright for orphaned, semi-literate working class teenager Martin (Franklin Aro). Cruelly ridiculed by his bourgeois schoolmates, Martin ekes out a meager living as a shoeshine boy on the streets of La Paz and is only afforded lodging by the good graces of his late mother’s friend, who works as a maid in the spacious home of an ailing widow. Martin’s most loyal shoeshine customer is well-to-do tailor Mr. Novoa (Alfredo Castro). Novoa is an empty-nester who spends his off-hours training and pampering his prized German Shepherd.

One day, Martin has a sudden brainstorm for a get-rich-quick scheme; he will kidnap Mr. Novoa’s dog and then enlist his best bud to “find” it and collect the reward. As Martin ingratiates himself into insular Mr. Novoa’s life (initially as part of the scheme), an unexpected bond develops between the two, greatly complicating Martin’s not so-masterminded caper.

Reminiscent of P. T. Anderson’s Hard Eight, writer-director Vinko Tomičić Salinas’ film makes excellent use of the La Paz locales, rendered in a decidedly neorealist style (not so surprising, given the title’s wordplay on Vittorio De Sica’s neorealist classic Bicycle Thieves). Keep an eye on this filmmaker.

Hacking Hate – Move over, Lisbeth Salandar…there’s a new hacker in town, and she’s stirring up a hornet’s nest of wingnuts. Simon Klose’s timely documentary follows award-winning Swedish journalist My Vingren as she meticulously constructs a fake online profile, posing as a male white supremacist. Her goal is to smoke out a possible key influencer and glean how he and others fit into right-wing extremist recruiting.

Vingren is like a one-woman Interpol; her investigation soon points her to U.S.-based extremist networks as well, leading her to consult with whistle-blower Anika Collier Navaroli (the former Twitter employee who was instrumental in getting Trump booted off the platform) and Imrab Ahmed (another one of Elon Musk’s least-favorite people, he was sued by the X CEO for exposing the rampant hate speech on the platform).

This isn’t a video game; considering the inherently belligerent nature of the extremist culture she is exposing, Vingren is taking considerable personal risk in this type of investigative journalism (she’s much braver than I am). Especially chilling is the shadowy figure at the center of her investigation, who is like a character taken straight out of a Frederick Forsyth novel. In light of the results of our recent presidential election (and the ancillary right-wing extremist threats to our democracy), this could be the most important documentary of 2024.

In Our Day (original title: Uriui haru) – Look in the dictionary under “quiet observation”, and you’ll find a print of auteur Hong Sang-soo’s character study of two artists (a 40-ish actress and an aging poet), each at a crossroads in their creative journey. Sang-soo’s beautifully constructed narrative chugs along at the speed of life; I understand that this may induce drowsiness with some viewers-but the devil is in the details, and those who pay close attention to them will be richly rewarded.

(Available on Google Play and Apple TV)

Linda Perry: Let it Die Here – Initially bursting onto the music scene in the early 90s by creating and belting out the most distinctive “yeah yeah yeah” hook this side of The Beatles’ “She Loves You” (“What’s Up”), Linda Perry has long since slipped the surly bonds of “4 Non-Blondes’ lead singer with the hat” to become an in-demand songwriter and producer for a number of notable artists (Adele, Christina Aguilera, Brandi Carlisle, Miley Cyrus, Celine Dion, Gwen Stefani, et.al.).

What makes this otherwise by-the-numbers music doc (directed by Don Hardy) really pop is its subject herself: charismatic, indomitable and boundlessly creative. One sequence, which observes Perry as she improvises, produces and arranges one of her own songs (essentially directing an orchestra on the fly) is one of the most riveting captures of the creative process I’ve seen on film since Godard’s Sympathy for the Devil.

The Old Oak – The bookend of a triptych of working-class dramas set in Northeast England (preceded by I, Daniel Blake in 2016 and Sorry We Missed You! in 2019), The Old Oak marks 87-year-old director Ken Loach’s 28^th film.

The story (scripted by Paul Laverty) is set in an economically depressed “pit town” on the Northeast coast of England in 2016 (which was 2 years into the implementation of the UK’s Syrian Vulnerable Persons Resettlement Scheme), and centers on TJ (Dave Turner), a former labor organizer barely making ends meet as owner and proprietor of “The Old Oak” pub.

One day, a busload of Syrian refugees appears and disembarks in the center of town. Unfortunately, not all the locals appear willing to roll out the welcome wagon. When xenophobic catcalling escalates into a scuffle that results in a young Syrian woman’s camera getting damaged, TJ intervenes and defuses the situation.

What ensues is rife with Loach’s trademarks; not the least of which is giving his cast plenty of room to breathe. The ensemble (which ranges from first-time film actors to veteran players) delivers uniformly naturalistic performances. Hovering somewhere between Do the Right Thing and Ikuru, The Old Oak is raw, uncompromising, and genuinely moving (rare at the multiplex nowadays), with an uplifting message of hope and reconciliation. If this is indeed its director’s swan song-what a lovely, compassionate note to go out on. (Full review)

(Available on Google Play, Amazon Prime, Fandango at Home and Apple TV)

Rainier: A Beer Odyssey –“Raaay-neeEER-BEEERrrrr….” If you lived in Alaska or the Northwest in the 70s and 80s, you’ll “get” that-and likely start chuckling. That said, you don’t have to have lived in Alaska or the Northwest to get a chuckle out of Isaac Olsen’s documentary. Olsen recounts the origin of the small (and unconventional) Seattle ad agency led by madmen Terry Heckler and Gordon Bowker that dreamt up a series of now-iconic Rainier Beer TV ads. A many-tendrilled odyssey indeed, with some unexpected sidebars (like cross-pollination with the inception of the Starbucks empire, and the story behind Mickey Rooney’s involvement with the campaign). A fascinating, entertaining look at the process behind the creative side of marketing, bolstered by a generous helping of the original TV ads.

Restless -Writer-director Jed Hart’s audacious and blackly comic debut feature is driven by a terrific performance by Lyndsey Marshal, who plays a mild-mannered elder care nurse who likes nothing better than spending her off-hours baking, listening to light classical music, and settling in with her cat for some reading and quiet time. Imagine her chagrin when it becomes abundantly clear that her new next-door neighbor likes nothing better than hosting all-night ravers…every night of the week.

Her first few polite requests (usually made around 4am) for the young man and his friends to keep it down are initially met with bemusement, but the situation takes a more sinister turn once she threatens to call the police. The woman’s steady descent into madness and desperation turns a “neighbor from hell” story into a modern Edgar Allan Poe tale. A satisfying revenge fantasy for anyone who’s “been there”, and a solid reinforcement for the old adage, “Watch out for the quiet ones.”

Solitude (original title: Einvera) – Ah, look at all the lonely people. Ninna Pálmadóttir’s quiet drama concerns an unassuming farmer named Gunnar (Thröstur Leó Gunnarsson) who reluctantly sells his beloved horses and relocates to Reykjavik after getting pushed off his land by a hydroelectric project. He has received a generous settlement, which enables him to offer cash for a condo.

For Gunnar, moving to the city is tantamount to getting drop-kicked into the 21st Century; he is overwhelmed by the stimuli. He strikes up a sweet friendship with a bubbly 10-year-old paperboy named Ari. The boy’s parents are separated. While they try to share equal time with their son, squabbles arise over scheduling conflicts, frequently leaving Ari in the lurch. As a result, Gunnar becomes his de facto babysitter. Gunnar’s naivety eventually leads to a misunderstanding that could have serious consequences for him. A beautifully acted treatise on the singularly destructive power of “assumption”.

Under The Grey Sky (original title: Pod szarym niebem) – This “ripped from the headlines” political drama is set during the 2020 Belarusian election. In a genuinely tense and unnerving opening scene, a journalist (Aliaksandra Vaitsekhovich) opposed to the current regime is in a friend’s apartment, live streaming an aggressive police action against demonstrators on the streets below.

Soon after an ominous pass of a police camera drone, the authorities burst in and arrest her. As her Kafkaesque nightmare ensues in the oppressive government’s court system, her husband (also a journalist) suffers his own travails as he is harassed by the police and eventually arrested on trumped-up charges. Based on a true story, writer-director Mara Tamkovich’s film is a sobering reminder that Orwellian totalitarianism is not dead…hell, it’s never even been resting. And yes…it could happen here.

…and just for giggles

Holy Krampus…have I really been writing reviews here for 18 years?! I was but a child of 50 when I began in November of 2006 (I was much older then, but I’m younger than that now). Here are my “top 10” picks for each year since I began writing for Hullabaloo.

(You may want to bookmark this post as a handy reference for movie night).

[Click on title for full review]

2007

Eastern Promises, The Hoax, In the Shadow of the Moon, Kurt Cobain: About a Son, Michael Clayton, My Best Friend, No Country for Old Men, Pan’s Labyrinth, Paprika, Zodiac

2008

Burn After Reading, The Dark Knight, The Gits, Happy Go Lucky, Honeydripper, Man on Wire, Milk, Slumdog Millionaire, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, The Visitor

2009

The Baader Meinhof Complex, Inglourious Basterds, In the Loop, The Limits of Control, The Messenger, A Serious Man, Sin Nombre, Star Trek, Where the Wild Things Are, The Yes Men Fix the World

2010

Creation, Inside Job, Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work, Little Big Soldier, A Matter of Size, My Dog Tulip, Nowhere Boy, Oceans, The Runaways, Son of Babylon

2011

Another Earth, Certified Copy, The Descendants, Drei, Drive, The First Grader, Midnight in Paris, Summer Wars, Tinker/Tailor/Soldier/Spy, The Trip

2012

Applause, Dark Horse, Killer Joe, The Master, Paul Williams: Still Alive, Rampart, Samsara, Skyfall, The Story of Film: an Odyssey, Your Sister’s Sister

2013

The Act of Killing, Big Star: Nothing Can Hurt Me, Computer Chess, 56 Up, The Hunt, Mud, The Rocket, The Silence, The Sweeney, Upstream Color

2014

Birdman, Child’s Pose, A Coffee in Berlin, The Grand Budapest Hotel, Kill the Messenger, The Last Days of Vietnam, Life Itself, A Summer’s Tale, The Wind Rises, The Theory of Everything

2015

Chappie, Fassbinder: Love Without Demands, An Italian Name, Liza the Fox Fairy, Love and Mercy, A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence, Song of the Sea, Tangerines, Trumbo, When Marnie Was There

2016

The Curve, Eat That Question, Hail, Caesar!, Home Care, Jackie, Mekko, Older Than Ireland, Snowden, The Tunnel, Weiner

2017

After the Storm, Bad Black, Becoming Who I Was, Blade Runner 2049, A Date for Mad Mary, Endless Poetry, I Am Not Your Negro, Loving Vincent, The Women’s Balcony, Your Name

2018

Big Sonia, BlacKkKlansman, Fahrenheit 11/9, The Guilty, Let the Sunshine In, Little Tito and the Aliens, Outside In, Ryuichi Sakamoto: Coda, Wild Wild Country, Won’t You Be My Neighbor?

2019

David Crosby: Remember My Name, Dolemite is My Name, Driveways, The Edge of Democracy, The Irishman, Monos, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, Putin’s Witnesses, This is Not Berlin, Wild Rose

2020

Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets, Capital in the Twenty-First Century, Desert One, Love Spreads, Never, Rarely, Sometimes, Always, Pacified, 76 Days, Tommaso, The Trial of the Chicago 7, Weathering With You

2021

Brian Wilson: Long Promised Road, Fire Music, Heist of the Century, Kurt Vonnegut: Unstuck in Time, The Last Film Show, The Paper Tigers, The Pebble and the Boy, Surge, Waikiki, Whelm

2022

Day by Day, Drunken Birds, Hallelujah: Leonard Cohen, A Journey, A Song, The Integrity of Joseph Chambers, The Man in the Basement, Moonage Daydream, My Love Affair With Marriage, Nude Tuesday, Sweetheart Deal, Polystyrene: I Am a Cliche

2023

Adolfo, Downtown Owl, Hey, Viktor!, I Like Movies, L’immensità, The Mojo Manifesto, Next Sohee, Once Within a Time, One Night With Adela, Ride On

Adventure, Behind the Music, Comedy, Drama, Neo-Noir, Western

Yo-ho-ho: 25 Buried Treasures of the 70s

October 7, 2024 Dennis Hartley

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on October 5, 2024)

As it applies to vintage cinema, it could be argued that “forgotten” ain’t what it used to be. From the advent of video stores in the 1980s to the glut of streaming platforms available today, the idea of an “obscure film” has become, well…obscure to several generations of filmgoers now. However, for those of us of a certain age, there was a time when the options were more limited. As I wrote in a 2017 piece about the death of neighborhood theaters:

Some of my fondest memories of the movie-going experience involve neighborhood theaters; particularly during a 3-year period of my life (1979-1982) when I was living in San Francisco. But I need to back up for a moment. I had moved to the Bay Area from Fairbanks, Alaska, which was not the ideal environment for a movie buff. At the time I moved from Fairbanks, there were only two single-screen movie theaters in town. To add insult to injury, we were usually several months behind the Lower 48 on first-run features (it took us nearly a year to even get Star Wars).

Keep in mind, there was no cable service in the market, and VCRs were a still a few years down the road. There were occasional midnight movie screenings at the University of Alaska, and the odd B-movie gem on late night TV (which we had to watch in real time, with 500 commercials to suffer through)…but that was it. Sometimes, I’d gather up a coterie of my culture vulture pals for the 260-mile drive to Anchorage, where there were more theaters for us to dip our beaks into.

Consequently, due to the lack of venues, I was reading more about movies, than watching them. I remember poring over back issues of The New Yorker at the public library, soaking up Penelope Gilliat and Pauline Kael; but it seemed requisite to live in NYC (or L.A.) to catch all these cool art-house and foreign movies they were raving about (most of those films just didn’t make it out up to the frozen tundra). And so it was that I “missed” a lot of 60s and 70s cinema.

Needless to say, when I moved to San Francisco, which had a plethora of fabulous neighborhood theaters in 1979, I quickly set about making up the deficit. While I had a lot of favorite haunts (The Surf, The Balboa, The Castro, and the Red Victorian loom large in my memory), there were two venerable (if a tad dodgy) downtown venues in particular where I spent an unhealthy amount of time in the dank and the dark with snoring bums who used the auditoriums as a $2 flop: The Roxie and The Strand.

That’s because they were “repertory” houses; meaning they played older films (frequently double and triple bills, usually curated by some kind of theme). That 3 years I spent in the dark was my film school; that’s how I got caught up with Francis Ford Coppola, Stanley Kubrick, Martin Scorsese, Robert Altman, Hal Ashby, Terrence Malick, Woody Allen, Sidney Lumet, Peter Bogdanovich, Werner Herzog, Ken Russell, Lindsay Anderson, Wim Wenders, Michael Ritchie, Brian De Palma, etc.

Of course, in 2017 any dweeb with an internet connection can catch up on the history of world cinema without leaving the house…which explains (in part) why these smaller movie houses are dying. But they will never know the sights, the sounds (the smells) of a cozy neighborhood dream palace; nor, for that matter, will they ever experience the awesomeness of seeing the classic films as they were originally intended to be seen-on the big screen.

That said, I would argue that there are still plenty of vintage films that don’t get enough love. So if you want to do a little exploring for movie night, here are 25 recommendations from my favorite movie decade…in alphabetical order. Enjoy!

Americana (1973/1981) – David Carradine and Barbara Hershey star in this unique, no-budget 1973 character study (released in 1981). Carradine, who also directed and co-produced, plays a Vietnam vet who drifts into a small Kansas town, and for his own enigmatic reasons, decides to restore an abandoned merry-go-round. The reaction from the clannish townsfolk ranges from bemused to spiteful. It’s part Rambo, part Billy Jack (although nowhere near as violent), and a genre curio in the sense that none of the violence depicted is perpetrated by its war-damaged protagonist. Carradine also composed and performed the song that plays in the closing credits. It’s worth noting that Americana predates Deer Hunter and Coming Home, which are generally considered the “first” narrative films to deal with Vietnam vets.

The Day of The Dolphin (1973) – “Fa loves Pa!” This offbeat 1973 sci-fi film marked the third collaboration between Buck Henry and director Mike Nichols. Henry adapted the script from Robert Merle’s novel. George C. Scott is excellent in the lead role as a marine biologist who has developed a method for training dolphins to communicate in human language. Naturally, there is a shadowy cabal of government spooks who take keen interest in this breakthrough. I like to call this one a conspira‘sea’ thriller (sorry).

Dodes’ka-den (1970) – this 1970 film by Akira Kurosawa rarely gets mentioned in the same breath as, say, The Seven Samurai; nonetheless, it stands out as one of the great director’s most unique efforts. This was the first film Kurosawa shot in color (27 years into his career, no less)-and it shows; the screen explodes with every imaginable hue you could create from a painter’s palette.

Perversely, the subject matter within this episodic tale of life in a Tokyo slum (mental illness, domestic violence, rape, alcoholism, starvation, etc.) is as dark and bleak as its visuals are bright and colorful. It’s a challenging watch; but the film slowly and deliberately sneaks up on you with its compassion and humanity, packing a real (if hard-won) emotional wallop by the devastating denouement.

Don’s Party (1976) – Director Bruce Beresford (Breaker Morant) sets his story on Australia’s election night, 1969. Outgoing host Don and his uptight wife are hosting an “election party” for old college chums at their middle-class suburban home.

Most of the guests range from the recently divorced to the unhappily married. Ostensibly a gathering to watch election results, talk politics and socialize, Don’s party deteriorates into a primer on bad human behavior as the booze kicks in. By the end of the night, marriages are on the rocks, friendships nearly broken and guests are skinny dipping in the vacationing neighbor’s pool.

Yet, this is not just another wacky party film. David Williamson’s script (which he adapted from his own play) offers many keen observations about elitism, politics, and adult relationships. Savagely funny, brilliantly written and splendidly acted.

The Duellists (1977) – If you can get past Harvey Keitel’s anachronistic Brooklyn wise guy stance and Keith Carradine’s oddly mannered take on a 19^th-century “popinjay”, there’s a lot here in director Ridley Scott’s sumptuously photographed 1977 debut (adapted from a Joseph Conrad story) for cineastes to revel in. Keitel and Carradine play a pair of officers in Napoleon’s army who engage in a series of duels spanning three decades (some people just don’t know when to “let it go”).

Happily, the existential futility of this purloined stalemate becomes moot, as it is cloaked in one of the most visually stunning period pieces you’ll ever feast your eyes upon this side of Barry Lyndon (all the more impressive when you consider the $900,000 budget, which is coffee and a doughnut compared to the $130,000,000 spent on his dreary-looking Prometheus).

FM (1978) – John Alonzo’s 1978 comedy-drama (written by Ezra Sacks) centers on fictional L.A. rock station “Q-Sky” FM, which has just shot to number one, to the elation of hip program director Jeff Dugan (Michael Brandon), who leads a team of colorful DJs (Martin Mull, Cleavon Little, Alex Karras and Eileen Brennan). While Dugan sees the win as validation for his “free form” approach, corporate HQ views it as a potential cash cow for landing big accounts like the U.S. Army. The battle lines between art and commerce are drawn…and it’s on.

Granted-the film is uneven, but the cast is game, the soundtrack is great, and Linda Ronstadt and band are in fine form performing several live numbers. It’s a nice snapshot of the era when “underground” FM was making a shift to the more corporate “Layla-Free Bird-Tom Sawyer” format that flogs to this day.

Gumshoe (1971) – This relatively obscure U.K. gem from 1971 was produced by its star Albert Finney and marked the feature film directing debut for Stephen Frears (My Beautiful Laundrette, Prick Up Your Ears, The Grifters, High Fidelity, et. al.). Finney is wonderful as an emcee who works in a seedy Liverpool nightclub and models himself after Philip Marlowe. He decides to indulge his long-time fantasy of becoming a private detective by placing a newspaper ad offering his services-and gets more than he bargains for with his first case.

Screenwriter Neville Smith’s clever dialog is infused with just enough shadings of Chandler and Hammet to deflect suspicion of plagiarism (and Finney thankfully doesn’t overdo his Bogey impression-which isn’t half-bad). Nice supporting turn from Billie Whitelaw, and Frears’ use of the gritty Liverpool milieu lends an appropriate “noir” vibe.

The Hired Hand (1971) – Peter Fonda’s 1971 directorial debut is a lean, poetic neorealist Western in the vein of Robert Altman’s McCabe and Mrs. Miller and Jan Troell’s Zandy’s Bride. Gorgeously photographed by the great Vilmos Zsigmond, it stars Fonda as a taciturn drifter who returns to his wife (Verna Bloom) after a prolonged absence.

Embittered by his desertion, she refuses to take him back, advising him to not even tell their young daughter that he is her father. In an act of contrition, he offers to work on her rundown farm purely as a “hired hand”, no strings attached. Reluctantly, she agrees; the couple slowly warm up to each other once again…until an incident from his recent past catches up with him and threatens the safety of his longtime friend and traveling companion (Warren Oates). Well-written (by Alan Sharp), directed, and acted.

Kings of the Road (1976) – Wim Wenders’ 1976 bookend of his “Road Movie Trilogy” (preceded by Alice in the Cities and The Wrong Move) is a Boudu Saved from Drowning-type tale with Rudiger Vogler as a traveling film projector repairman who happens upon a suicidal psychologist (Hanns Zischler) just as he decides to end it all by driving his VW into a river. The traveling companions are slow to warm up to each other but have plenty of screen time in which to bond (i.e., at 175 minutes, it may try the patience of some viewers). If you can stick with it-I think you will discover it’s worth the trip.

The Last Valley (1971) -Films set in Germany during The Thirty Years War are a niche genre…but as far as films set in Germany during the Thirty Years War go, one could do worse than this nearly forgotten but worthwhile drama from writer-director James Clavell.

The “outsider” is a recurring theme in Clavell’s work; and this tale is no exception. In this case the “outsider” is a two-headed beast in the form of an apolitical war refugee (Omar Sharif) and the ruthless Captain (Michael Caine) of a small contingent of mercenaries who both stumble upon a “hidden” valley whose residents have somehow managed to remain unscathed by the ravages of war and the Plague.

The Captain is ruthless (he would just as soon slit your throat as look at you) but also pragmatic; he decides against his initial impulse to kill Sharif, pillage the sleepy hamlet and move on after the quick thinking and silver-tongued Sharif convinces him it would be better all-around to spare the residents in exchange for putting his battle-weary soldiers up for the winter. The villagers, who seem malleable and complacent at first, come to reveal their own brand of pragmatism. A well-mounted period piece that also works as a timeless observation of human behavior in survival situations.

Little Murders (1971) – This dark, dark comedy from 1971 is one of my all-time favorite films. It was directed by Alan Arkin and adapted by Jules Feiffer from his own self-described “post-assassination play” (referring to the then-relatively recent murders of Martin Luther King and Robert F. Kennedy). That said, it is not wholly political; but it is sociopolitical (I see it as the pre-cursor to Paddy Chayefsky’s Network).

Elliot Gould is at the peak of his Elliot Gould-ness as a nihilistic (and seemingly brain-dead) free-lance photographer who is essentially browbeaten into a love affair with an effervescent sunny side-up young woman (Marcia Rodd) who is bound and determined to snap him out of his torpor. The story follows the travails of this oil and water couple as they slog through a dystopian New York City chock full o’ nuts, urban blight, indifference and random shocking acts of senseless violence (you know…New York City in the 70s).

Many memorable vignettes, and nearly every cast member gets a Howard Beale-worthy monologue on how fucked-up American society is (remember…this was 1971). Disturbingly, it remains relevant as ever. But it is very funny. No, seriously. The cast includes Vincent Gardenia, Elizabeth Wilson, Doris Roberts, Lou Jacobi (who has the best monologue) and Donald Sutherland. Arkin casts himself as an eccentric homicide investigator-and he’s a hoot.

92 in the Shade (1975) – This quirky, picaresque 1975 black comedy is acclaimed writer Thomas McGuane’s sole directorial effort. (I consider it a companion piece to Frank Perry’s equally oddball Rancho Deluxe, which was also written by McGuane, features several of the same actors, and was released the same year).

Peter Fonda stars as a trustafarian slacker who comes home to Key West and decides to start a fishing charter business. This doesn’t set well with a gruff competitor (Warren Oates) who decides to play dirty with his rival.

As in most McGuane stories, narrative takes a backseat to the characters. In fact, the film essentially abandons its setup halfway through-until a curiously rushed finale. Still, there’s a bevy of wonderful character actors to savor, including Harry Dean Stanton, Burgess Meredith, William Hickey, Sylvia Miles and Louise Latham.

Also in the cast: Margot Kidder (McGuane’s wife at the time) and Elizabeth Ashley (his girlfriend at the time)-which begs speculation as to what was going through his mind as he directed a scene where Kidder and Ashley exchange insults and then get into a physical altercation!

Prime Cut (1972) –This spare and offbeat 1972 “heartland noir” from director Michael Ritchie (with a tight screenplay by Robert Dillon and artful cinematography by Gene Polito)) features one of my favorite Lee Marvin performances. He’s a cleaner for an Irish mob out of Chicago who is sent to collect an overdue payment from a venal livestock rancher (Gene Hackman) with the unlikely moniker of “Mary Ann”.

In addition to overseeing his meat packing plant (where the odd debt collector ends up as sausage filler), Mary Ann maintains a (literal) stable of naked, heavily sedated young women for auction. He protects his spread with a small army of disturbingly uber-Aryan young men who look like they were cloned in a secret Nazi lab.

It gets even weirder, yet the film has a strangely endearing quality; perhaps due to its blend of pulpy thrills, dark comedy and ironic detachment. It’s fun watching Hackman and Marvin go mano a mano; and seeing Sissy Spacek in her film debut. Also with Gregory Walcott (a hoot as Mary Ann’s oafish, psychotic brother) and Angel Tompkins.

Rancho Deluxe (1975) – This criminally underappreciated 1975 Frank Perry comedy-drama sports a marvelously droll original screenplay by novelist Thomas McGuane. Jeff Bridges and Sam Waterston star as modern-day cattle rustlers in Montana. Loose and episodic…just like life on the range, I’d reckon (with the odd foray into sex and drugs tossed in just for giggles).

Wonderful ensemble work from a cast that includes Elizabeth Ashley, Slim Pickens, Clifton James, Charlene Dallas, Patti D’Arbanville, Richard Bright and Harry Dean Stanton (memorable as a love-struck cow hand). Outstanding cinematography by Willam A. Fraker.

Rockers (1978) – Admittedly, this island-flavored take on the Robin Hood legend is short on plot, but what it may lack in complexity is more than compensated for by its sheer exuberance (and I have to watch it at least once a year). Grecian writer-director Theodoros Bafaloukos appears to have cast every reggae luminary who was alive at the time in his 1978 film. It’s the tale of a Rasta drummer (Leroy “Horsemouth” Wallace) who has had his beloved motorcycle stolen (customized Lion of Judah emblem and all!) by a crime ring run by a local fat cat.

Needless to say, the mon is vexed. So he rounds up a posse of fellow musicians (Richard “Dirty Harry” Hall, Jacob Miller, Gregory Isaacs, Robbie Shakespeare, Big Youth, Winston Rodney, et. al.) and they set off to relieve this uptown robber baron of his ill-gotten gains and re-appropriate them accordingly. Musical highlights include Miller performing “Tenement Yard”, and Rodney warbling his haunting and hypnotic Rasta spiritual “Jah No Dead” a cappella.

Saint Jack (1979) – Peter Bogdanovich’s least “commercial” project is my favorite of his, after The Last Picture Show. Adapted from Paul Theroux’s novel by the author, Howard Sackler and Bogdanovich, this 1979 drama is a low-key character study about an American (Ben Gazzara) hustling a living in Singapore during the Vietnam War era.

Gazzara plays Ben Flowers, an ingratiating fellow who specializes in showing visiting foreigners (mostly Brits) a good time. His modest brothel and bar isn’t exactly Rick’s Cafe, but he dreams of expanding, making a bundle and heading back to the states with a comfortable nest egg.

Unfortunately, this has put him on the radar of the local triad, who are escalating their harassment by the day. Flowers is wary, but too good-natured to go to the mattresses, as it were (he’s the antithesis of a “mobster type”, which is what makes the character so interesting). Eventually, however, he’s forced to seek another avenue-running a CIA-sanctioned brothel for soldiers on R&R from tours of duty in Vietnam.

I haven’t seen all of his films, but Gazzara’s performance is surely one of (if not “the”) best he ever delivered. The film is also a late-career highlight for the perennially underrated Denholm Elliot, who was nominated for a BAFTA award in 1980 (but didn’t win). Keep your eyes peeled for George Lazenby in the penultimate scene-a wordless, yet extraordinary sequence. Bogdanovich casts himself as a mysterious government spook. Leisurely paced but completely absorbing, it’s one of those films that has an immersive sense of “place” (beautifully shot on location by the late great Robby Müller).

That Sinking Feeling (1979) – Sort of a Scottish version of Big Deal on Madonna Street, this was the 1979 debut from writer-director Bill Forsyth (Local Hero, Comfort & Joy). An impoverished Glasgow teenager, tired of eating cornflakes for breakfast, lunch and dinner, comes up with a scheme that will make him and his underemployed pals rich beyond their wildest dreams-knocking over a plumbing supply warehouse full of stainless steel sinks.

Funny as hell, but with a wee touch of working class weltschmerz; this subtext makes it a precursor to films like The Full Monty, Waking Ned Devine and Brassed Off. Nearly all of the same principal cast would return in Forsyth’s 1982 charmer, Gregory’s Girl.

Slade in Flame (1974) – Akin to Mott the Hoople, it may be arguable among music geeks as to whether Slade was truly “glam” (they were a bit on the “blokey” side- as the Brits would say), but they are nonetheless considered so in some circles, and this 1974 film was released during the heyday of space boots and glitter, so there you go.

The directorial debut for Richard Loncraine (Brimstone and Treacle, The Missionary, Richard III) the film is a gritty, semi-biographical “behind the music” drama (don’t expect A Hard Day’s Night) about a working-class band called Flame (suspiciously resembling the four members of Slade, wink-wink) who get chewed up and spit out of the star-making machine (this just in: managers and A & R people are back-stabbing weasels).

While not a genre masterpiece, the film is bolstered by a great soundtrack (all Slade originals) and the casting of Tom Conti (who plays a soulless record exec with great aplomb). An amusing scene where lead singer Noddy Holder’s character gets locked into a stage coffin presages a similar hardware malfunction depicted in This Is Spinal Tap. Another memorable scene has the band risking life and limb to access the broadcast booth for an on-air interview at an offshore pirate radio station (the story is set in the late 1960s).

Sorcerer (1977) – The time is ripe for a re-appraisal of William Friedkin’s 1977 action-adventure, which was greeted with indifference by audiences and critics at the time. Maybe it was the incongruous title, which likely led many to assume it would be in the vein of his previous film (and huge box-office hit), The Exorcist. Then again, it was tough for any other film to garner attention in the immediate wake of Star Wars.

At any rate, it’s an expertly directed, terrifically acted update of Henri-Georges Clouzot’s classic 1953 nail-biter, The Wages of Fear (I say “update” in deference to Friedkin, who bristles at the term “remake” in a “letter from the director” included with the Blu-ray I own).

Roy Scheider heads a superb international cast as a desperate American on the lam in South America, who signs up for a job transporting a truckload of nitroglycerin through rough terrain. Walon Green wrote the screenplay, and Tangerine Dream provides a memorable soundtrack.

Stardust (1974) – Michael Apted directed this 1974 sequel to Claude Whatham’s 1973 film That’ll Be the Day. David Essex reprises his role as restless seeker Jim MacLaine, who has finally found his true passion: music.

The first third traces MacLaine’s Beatle-like rise to fame with his beat combo “The Stray Cats” (it’s a safe bet Brian Setzer and band mates saw this film back in the day and “re-appropriated” the name).

With massive success comes the inevitable backstage squabbles and jealousies; eventually MacLaine is surrounded by music company weasels and yes-men whispering in his ear to dump his “backup” band and pursue a solo career as a rock god (who can say “no” to that?). Then comes the inevitable decline: too much drugs, sex and rock ‘n’ roll excess.

One of the best (and most realistic) films ever made about the music business. Clever casting of a number of veteran UK rockers like Adam Faith, Dave Edmunds, Keith Moon, Marty Wylde and Paul Nicholas adds greatly to the authenticity.

The Seven Per Cent Solution (1977) – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s super sleuth Sherlock Holmes has weathered an infinite number of movie incarnations over the decades, but none as fascinating as Nicol Williamson’s tightly wound coke fiend in this wonderful 1977 Herbert Ross film.

Intrepid sidekick Dr. Watson (Robert Duvall), concerned over his friend’s addiction, decides to do an intervention, engineering a meeting between the great detective and Dr. Sigmund Freud (Alan Arkin). Naturally, there is a mystery afoot as well, but it’s secondary to the entertaining interplay between Williamson and Arkin.

Screenwriter Nicholas Meyer (who adapted from his own novel) would repeat the gimmick two years later in his directing debut Time After Time, when he placed similarly odd bedfellows together in one story by pitting H.G. Wells against Jack the Ripper.

The Shout (1978) – This unsettling 1978 sleeper was adapted from a Robert Graves story by Michal Austin and its director, Jerzy Skolimowski. The late John Hurt is excellent as a mild-mannered avant-garde musician who lives in a sleepy English hamlet with his wife (Susannah York). When an enigmatic vagabond (Alan Bates) blows into town, their quiet country life begins to go…elsewhere. This is a genre-defying film; somewhere between psychological horror and culture clash drama. I’ll put it this way-if you like Peter Weir’s The Last Wave (which would make a great double-bill) this one is in your wheelhouse.

Wanda (1970) – This 1970 character study/road movie/crime drama is an under-seen indie gem written and directed by its star Barbara Loden. Wanda (Loden) is an unemployed working-class housewife. It’s clear that her life is the pits…and not just figuratively. She’s recently left her husband and two infants and has been crashing at her sister’s house, which is within spitting distance of a yawning mining pit, nestled in the heart of Pennsylvania’s coal country.

When the judge scolds her for being late to a child custody hearing, the oddly detached Wanda shrugs it off, telling His Honor that if her husband wants a divorce, that’s OK by her; adding their kids are probably “better off” being taken care of by their father. Shortly afterward, Wanda splits her sister’s house and hits the road (hair still in curlers), carrying no more than her purse. Her long, strange road trip is only beginning.

Wanda is Terrance Malick’s Badlands meets Barbara Kopple’s Harlan County, USA; like Malick’s film it was inspired by a true crime story and features a strangely passive female protagonist with no discernible identity of her own, and like Koppel’s documentary it offers a gritty portrait of rural working-class America using unadorned 16 mm photography. A unique, unforgettable, and groundbreaking film. (Full review).

The Wild Rovers (1971) – Blake Edwards made a western? Yes, he did, and not a half-bad one at that. A world-weary cowhand (William Holden) convinces a younger (and somewhat dim) co-worker (Ryan O’Neal) that since it’s obvious that they’ll never really get ahead in their present profession, they should give bank robbery a shot. They get away with it, but then find themselves on the run, oddly, not so much from the law, but from their former employer (Karl Malden), who is mightily offended that anyone who worked for him would do such a thing. Episodic and leisurely paced, but ambles along quite agreeably, thanks to the charms of the two leads, and the beautiful, expansive photography by Philip Lathrop. Ripe for rediscovery.

Wizards (1977) – Within the realm of animated films, Ralph Bakshi’s name may not be as universally recognizable (or revered) as Walt Disney or Studio Ghibli, but I would consider him no less of an important figure in the history of the genre. During his heyday (1972-1983) the director pumped out 8 full-length features (including Fritz the Cat, The Lord of the Rings and American Pop) using his signature blend of live-action, rotoscoping, and traditional cel animation.

While I grant it is not for all tastes, I’ve always had a particular soft spot for his 1977 film, Wizards. Tanking at the box office during its original theatrical run due to a combination of lackluster promotion by 20th Century Fox and an unfortunate proximity to the release of that same studio’s Star Wars (much to Bakshi’s chagrin, as he bitterly recounts on the commentary track of the Blu-ray I own) the film has nonetheless picked up a devoted cult following over the decades, thanks to home video.

It’s an elemental tale of two warring brothers, one good and one evil, who are both endowed with the magical powers of natural-born wizards. A familiar trope, to be sure, but Bakshi renders the story with originality, verve, and a fair amount of dark (and adult) humor.