This piece is a follow-up to Turkish Films: Four Istanbuls and a Golden Fleece.
“You Can’t Win Them All” (aka “Soldiers of Fortune”), starring Charles Bronson and Tony Curtis, the film is a rollicking, old-fashioned grand adventure film set in a turbulent Turkey in the midst of war with its neighbors and revolution in 1922, as a band of mercenaries seek their fortune. It was produced by Gene Corman (brother of Roger), directed by Peter Collinson (best known for the original “The Italian Job”), with a script by one of the finest character actors of the ‘50s-‘80s (one of those “I don’t know his name, but I recognize his face” Leo Gordon). Locations include the Said Halim Pasha Mansion in Istanbul, Cappadocia, Ephesus, and more. Due to “historical inaccuracies,” it was banned in Turkey until 2013. About 7 or 8 years ago, Turkish film director Mu Tunç (“Arada”) borrowed my American VHS tape of the film, which he brought to Beşiktaş to get DVDr copies made for us. While waiting for the discs, he ran into Salih Güney (one of the film’s Turkish leads, along with Fikret Hakan) and showed him the VHS box (to his delight as he had never seen the film), which he was nice enough to autograph. Grégoire Aslan, who was born in Constantinople in 1908 and had a lengthy film career in Europe and Hollywood, and Patrick Magee (best known for the brilliant “Marat/Sade”) are both in the film.
Cult director Umberto Lenzi’s “Kriminal” (1966) is based on the Italian fumetti [adult comic book] concerning the master criminal, Kriminal, who is very similar to the slightly later “Danger: Diabolik” by Mario Bava. Welcome to the world of Skeleton Suit cinema! What makes Kriminal distinctive is that he dresses in a glow-in-the-dark skeleton suit. And why is this so important? Because it gave birth to the Skeleton Suit subgenre of great Turksploitation cinema of the ‘60s and ‘70s when Turkish director Yılmız Atedeniz made 4 Kilink films about the master criminal Kilink, particularly “Kilink Istanbul’da and “Kilink Strip and Kill, which were so successful that other directors made an additional half dozen or so Kilink films, such as “Mandrake [The Magician] vs. Kilink.” “Kriminal” concerns thieves that want to steal $1 million in diamonds. It was shot in London, Madrid, Istanbul and the ever-enchanting Tuzla. This film is stupid, brainless fun. I liked this minor gem from one of Italy’s most able directors (though not as much as the Kilink films, which were released on DVD about 10 or so years ago).
Part of the excellent German tongue-in-cheek espionage series Kommissar X, “Death Trip” (aka Kommissar X – Drei grüne Hunde) (1967) stars Tony Kendall, who’d starred in a number of spaghetti westerns, and Brad Harris, who had starred in a number of peplum films and even one of the “3 Fantastic Supermen” series, but not the one with Turkish star Cüneyt Arkin. They are secret agents sent to Istanbul to shut down an LSD smuggling ring, and for some strange reason, they bring 2 canisters of LSD to Istanbul. Great stunt work. The first half of the film is somewhat incoherent if downright idiotic; perhaps, some of the people involved in the making of the film indulged in LSD? Nobody in the film seems to understand how LSD affects people. Shot in various great locations in Istanbul and Cappadocia where there are some amazing stunts and motorcycle chases around and through the faery chimneys, which the Ministry of Tourism would probably frown upon today (without a significant gratuity). Stupid but fun.
Principally filmed in Turkey in Central Anatolia (particularly Pecenek and Saraycik) and Istanbul, “The Charge of the Light Brigade” (1968) depicts the British Light Brigade’s disastrous charge against a Russian artillery battery due to totally inept judgment and planning (remember the famous poem of the same name by Alfred Lord Tennyson: “There’s not to reason why…”), and it is a graphically accurate account. The battle took place in an effort to prop up the Ottoman Empire and keep the Russians from gaining control of Istanbul and an outlet to the Mediterranean Sea for their fleet. The budget ($8,000,000) means it had a top director (Tony Richardson) and the best actors in England at the time, including Vanessa Redgrave, Trevor Howard (absolutely riveting as Lord Cardigan who is Trumpian in his incompetence), David Hemmings (best known for Michelangelo Antonioni’s “Blow Up”), John Gielgud, and Harry Andrews. A wonderful film in which you get to see the evil colonialists, the British, receive their just desserts. Never has the slaughter of Brits been so lovingly depicted. You’ll love it! … Years ago, the late Turkish director T. Fikret Uçak, best known in the West for “Üç Dev Adam” in which Captain America and the famous Mexican wrestler Santo battle the evil Spider-Man (it’s a great film!), talked to me at length about his work behind the scenes as part of the crew on “Charge,” which was fascinating.
Cult Spanish director Jess Franco, who directed over 200 films and worked with Orson Welles, made a number of films in Turkey, my favorite being “Vampyros Lesbos” (1971), which was shot in Istanbul and the Prince’s Islands. It stars his muse of the time, the mesmerizing Soledad Miranda, who died tragically a few years later at the age of 23. She plays Countess Nadine Carody who reminisces at one point about events that happened “100 or 200 years ago. I can’t remember” when she was living in an Eastern European city as a teen, and all hell broke loose. She looked out her window and saw soldiers rioting and raping women in the street. They broke into her house, and one raped her. But she was saved by Count Dracula, who stabs the soldier and tells her he can make all her pain disappear. She sleeps and wakes up with Dracula beside her. Reminiscing, she says: “His body was cold, but his lips burned like fire.” 200 years later, he has died, and she has inherited his estate. A lawyer, Linda, meets her to discuss her inheritance, and Nadine seduces her… When I first read about Franco 25 years ago, the writer referred to “The blank stare of Soledad Miranda.” I didn’t understand until I watched this film, which is an irresistibly bizarre, hypnotic, exotic take on Bram Stoker’s “Dracula” that adopts a stream-of-consciousness narrative, a feverish daydream that explores the world of fetishes and sexual fantasies. But never at night: Only during daylight under the heat of the summer sun. Franco didn’t consider it a horror film, rather he thought of it as a tale of anguish. In addition, the soundtrack by Manfred Hubler and Sigfried (Sigi) Schwab (one-time member of the great German rock band Embryo, which has played in Turkey a number of times) is one of the most unique psychedelic rock scores ever, chock-full of fuzz guitars and electric sitar. Never have lesbian vampires seemed so enticing: Highly recommended.
More to come, so stay tuned!
