Bovie Movie

Driving down a deserted Southern California highway at a safe and sane 55 miles per hour, David Mann (Dennis Weaver) steps on the pedal to pass a large gas trailer truck. Moments later, the truck is back, dangerously tailgating Mann before abruptly cutting him off. For the next 90 minutes, Mann and the never-seen truckdriver are pitted against one another in a motorized duel to the death. Author Richard Matheson conceived Duel after a similar experience with a reckless trucker. The story first appeared in Playboy magazine, then was picked up for adaptation by the producers of The ABC Movie of the Week. The director chosen to helm Duel on location in Soledad Canyon was a bright 23-year-old who’d shown promise on such series as Night Gallery and Columbo: Steven Spielberg. First telecast on December 18, 1971, Duel was so popular that a somewhat longer version (with added violence and profanity) was prepared for theatrical release in 1983.

After George Lazenby portrayed James Bond in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, Sean Connery returned to the tux, gimmicks, and catchphrases of Secret Agent 007 in his penultimate Bond outing, Diamonds Are Forever. Fragments of Ian Fleming’s original 1954 novel remain, including the characters of the alluring Tiffany Case (Jill St. John) and fey hitmen Wint (Bruce Glover) and Mr. Kidd (Putter Smith). The remainder of Richard Maibaum and Tom Mankiewicz’s script diverges dramatically from the novel, involving Bond in a scheme by the insidious Ernst Blofeld (Charles Gray) to force the world powers to disarm so that he can take over the globe. Folksinger Jimmy Dean shows up briefly as a Howard Hughes-like reclusive billionaire, while Lana Wood (Natalie’s sister) participates in one of the film’s edgiest cliffhangers. Agreeing to make Diamonds Are Forever only because of the money offered him, Sean Connery parted company with the role for 12 years after this film; he returned to the role once more in 1983, for Irvin Kershner’s underrated Thunderball remake Never Say Never Again.

Promoted as a family musical by Paramount Pictures, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory is more of a black comedy, perversely faithful to the spirit of Roald Dahl’s original book Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Enigmatic candy manufacturer Willy Wonka (Gene Wilder) stages a contest by hiding five golden tickets in five of his scrumptious candy bars. Whoever comes up with these tickets will win a free tour of the Wonka factory, as well as a lifetime supply of candy. Four of the five winning children are insufferable brats: the fifth is a likeable young lad named Charlie Bucket (Peter Ostrum), who takes the tour in the company of his equally amiable grandfather (Jack Albertson). In the course of the tour, Willy Wonka punishes the four nastier children in various diabolical methods — one kid is inflated and covered with blueberry dye, another ends up as a principal ingredient of the chocolate, and so on — because these kids have violated the ethics of Wonka’s factory. In the end, only Charlie and his grandfather are left. Ostensibly set in England, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory was lensed in Germany (as revealed by the film’s final overhead shot).

This offbeat comedy finds a rotund, daydreaming projectionist (Chuck McCann) who fantasizes that he is the super hero Captain Flash. He imagines his nemesis to be Renaldi (Rodney Dangerfield), whom the projectionist refers to as “the Bat.” Renaldi demands the lobby floor to be so clean he can eat off it. The film uses superimposition of older films, the first to employ such techniques. The projectionist imagines Rinaldi to be in league with the forces of evil like Hitler, Mussolini and space aliens. He is under the delusion that he must save a female co-worker (Ina Balin) from the clutches of the evil Bat. The projectionist summons such heroes as Errol Flynn, Gary Cooper and the US Marine Corp to save her from imagined danger. This is the first feature length film for director Harry Hurwitz, who also appears as an usher. This also marks the film debut for Rodney Dangerfield, who had recently changed his name from his given name of Jack Roy and opened a nightclub. The film premiered at the Rochester Film Festival in 1969. It has earned cult status over the years and is in the archives of the Museum Of Modern Art in New York.

“You’ve got to ask yourself a question: do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?” Dirty Harry provoked a critical uproar in 1971 for its “fascist” message about the power of one, as it also elevated Clint Eastwood to superstar status through his most enduring screen persona. Harry Callahan (Eastwood, in a role meant for Frank Sinatra) is a sardonic, hard-working San Francisco cop who can’t finish his lunch without having to foil a bank robbery with his 44 Magnum, “the most powerful handgun in the world.” When hippie-esque psycho Scorpio (Andy Robinson) goes on a killing spree, Harry and new partner Chico (Reni Santoni) are assigned to hunt him down, but not before the Mayor (John Vernon) and Lt. Bressler (Harry Guardino) admonish Callahan about his heavy-handed tactics. Racing against a deadline to save a kidnap victim from suffocating to death, and unbothered by the niceties of Miranda rights and search warrants, Callahan brings in Scorpio, only to see him released on technicalities. “The law’s crazy,” opines Harry in disgust, before taking it upon himself to ensure that Scorpio doesn’t kill again. Directed in violent and efficient fashion by Don Siegel, with a propulsive score by Lalo Schifrin, Dirty Harry was the fourth Siegel-Eastwood collaboration after Coogan’s Bluff (1968), Two Mules for Sister Sara (1970), and The Beguiled (1970). Critics at the time strongly objected to the heroic image of a cop’s violations of a suspect’s Miranda rights, forcing Siegel and Eastwood to deny that they were right-wing reactionaries. All the same, Dirty Harry proved to be highly popular and spawned four sequels: Magnum Force (1973), The Enforcer (1976), Sudden Impact (1983), and The Dead Pool (1988).

This gritty, fast-paced, and innovative police drama earned five Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Best Adapted Screenplay (written by Ernest Tidyman), and Best Actor (Gene Hackman). Jimmy “Popeye” Doyle (Hackman) and his partner, Buddy Russo (Roy Scheider), are New York City police detectives on narcotics detail, trying to track down the source of heroin from Europe into the United States. Suave Alain Charnier (Fernando Rey) is the French drug kingpin who provides a large percentage of New York City’s dope, and Pierre Nicoli (Marcel Bozzuffi) is a hired killer and Charnier’s right-hand man. Acting on a hunch, Popeye and Buddy start tailing Sal Boca (Tony Lo Bianco) and his wife, Angie (Arlene Faber), who live pretty high for a couple whose corner store brings in about 7,000 dollars a year. It turns out Popeye’s suspicions are right — Sal and Angie are the New York agents for Charnier, who will be smuggling 32 million dollars’ worth of heroin into the city in a car shipped over from France. The French Connection broke plenty of new ground for screen thrillers; Popeye Doyle was a highly unusual “hero,” an often violent, racist, and mean-spirited cop whose dedication to his job fell just short of dangerous obsession. The film’s high point, a high-speed car chase with Popeye tailing an elevated train, was one of the most viscerally exciting screen moments of its day and set the stage for dozens of action sequences to follow. And the film’s grimy realism (and downbeat ending) was a big change from the buff-and-shine gloss and good-guys-always-win heroics of most police dramas that preceded it. The French Connection was inspired by a true story, and Eddie Egan and Sonny Grosso, Popeye and Buddy’s real life counterparts, both have small roles in the film. A sequel followed four years later.