Viewings: February 2023

A trifecta of sixties films were the major picks this month.

James Landis' The Sadist was easily my favourite film. Its producer, Arch Hall Sr. also had a cameo and ghost produced another choice pick in Ray Dennis Steckler's surprisingly well made, The Thrill Killers. 

Fast travel to Japan, and I was wowed by Yosuzô Masumura's psycho-sexual drama Blind Beast. Kudos for not going how I predicted it.

Film:
The Outlaw (Howard Hughes & Howard Hawks•, 1943)*
She Shoulda Said No! AKA Wild Weed (Sherman Scott AKA Sam Newfield, 1949)*
I'm All Right Jack (John Boulting, 1959)
The Sadist (James Landis, 1963)*
The Thrill Killers (Ray Dennis Steckler, 1964)*
Lady Morgan’s Vengeance (Massimo Pupillo, 1965)*
The Snake Girl and the Silver-Haired Witch (Noriaki Yuasa, 1968)*
A Woman Kills (Jean-Denis Bonan, 1968)*
Blind Beast (Yosuzô Masumura, 1969)*
Help Me… I’m Possessed (Charles Nizet, 1974)*
Hotel Fear (Francesco Barilli, 1978)*
Alley Cat (Victor M. Ordoñez, Edward Victor & Al Valletta, 1984)*
Hell Comes to Frogtown (Donald G. Jackson & R. J. Keizer, 1988)
Basquiat (Julian Schnabel, 1996)
The Wash (DJ Pooh, 2001)*
Chained (Jennifer Lynch, 2012)*
Helter Skelter (Mika Ninagawa, 2012)*
Black Bear (Lawrence Michael Levine, 2020)*
The Menu (Mark Mylod, 2022)*
Babylon (Damien Chazelle, 2022 / 2023)*
Infinity Pool (Brandon Cronenberg, 2023)*
 
Television:
The Day of the Triffids Season 1 - Episodes 1 - 6 (Ken Hannam,1981)
Neighbours - Episode 1 (Reg Watson, 1985 / 1986)* 

The Day of the Triffids Season 1 - Episodes 1 & 2 (Nick Copus, 2009)
Mastermind Episodes 20 - 23 (Bill Wright, 2022 / 2023)*

 

*First time viewings.

• Uncredited. 

 

Dada Debaser Notes:

• Instead of the adult film industry, imagine if Boogie Nights was about various figures during Hollywood’s transition from the silent movie era to the talkies and beyond. Now imagine it’s written and directed by a Criterion loving millennial in urgent need of Ritalin. That's Babylon!
• Couldn't help wondering if Laura Benedict in The Thrill Killers might be Aubrey Plaza's nan since she looked striking similar to her.
• Speaking of Aubrey Plaza, Black Bear was all right, but the meta film-making concept was way more creative and less exhausting in One Cut of the Dead (2017).
  
• Crazy how I'm All Right Jack, a British comedy from the 1950s, can still feel relevant decades later with its on point satire of working trade unions.
• Vincent D'Onofrio's performance in Chained was superb. Too bad the film was completely undermined by a terrible plot twist and a predictably ambiguous final scene.
• It wasn't until my appreciation post for Roy Budd's soundtracks did I realise he also scored both Steptoe & Son films.
  
• From Dr. Dre having the "bubblies" to Snoop & Truth Hurts having a quickie, the only redeemable part about The Wash was the end titles featuring the Bad Intentions music video.
• Still in two minds over Son of Cronenberg's new film. First hour was great, but afterwards... it kind of lost its way. Will return to it again soon, though.
  
• Tried watching that recent BFI Spike Lee Q&A, but kept being reminded of the Joker's art museum scene from Batman (1989).
• R.I.P to the bikini goddess Raquel Welch!
  

Juvenile Hell: Part 5

The Sadist (James Landis, 1963)

If there was a film equivalent to the Infinite Monkey Theorem, then James Landis' brutal crime thriller, The Sadist is a valid candidate. A diamond in the rough from producer Arch Hall Sr; a man synoymous with giving the world the prehistoric, trashfest Eegah (1962) and a multitude of other time wasters.

At the risk of it sounding like a cliché, what makes The Sadist such a remarkable film, is how ahead of its time it is. Its bleak tone and subversive nature come across as anachronistic in comparison to other crime thrillers from the early sixties. If anything, The Sadist displays the nihilsim and savagery from notorious seventies pictures, à la Wes Craven's The Last House on the Left (1972) or Tobe Hooper's The Texas Chaisaw Massacre (1973). 

The film introduces a trio of school teachers whose car has broken down at a remote desert garage en route to a Dodgers baseball game. We learn about each teacher's background and motivations, while simultaneously discovering something is amiss at the garage / junkyard. This setting is the only location for much of the film's run time until the climactic finale.

Loaded in the favour of its volatile psychopath, Arch Hall Jr plays the titular, denim-clad Charlie Tibbs. He has plenty of bullets to spare, is able to second-guess his wholesome hostages, and toys with them with such a level of sadistic cruelty, he would make Krug Stillo proud. In one particular scene he reveals how he'll grant one of his potential victims fifteen minutes of extra life if they can repair a vehicle. They're going to die by his hand, it's just a case of when. Despite mainly whispering in his ear, Tibbs' girlfriend, Judy, is also something of a dangerousn wild child. They really compliment one another and make for a convincing psychotic couple.

For what is essentially an exploitation movie, the biggest surprise is just how well it's made. The Sadist makes excellent use of its limited location, along with it being blessed with some stylish camera work by Vilmos Zsigmond, whose credits include Deliverance (1972), Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977) and The Deer Hunter (1978). This keeps the film looking and feeling fresh. Of course, fancy camera work is meaningless without a compelling story and competent performances, which the film has in abundance. Since Hall Jr's dad produced this picture, it reeks of nepotism like his other films, but given that this is a thriller made on a relative shoe-string budget, it's fairly forgivable. In any case, Hall Jr's performance is exceptionally good in the film, and he doesn't chew scenes like Sofia Coppola did when she was miscast in The Godfather Part III (1990).

The Sadist would be the first feature film to be based on real life spree killer Charles Starkweather and his accomplice girlfriend, Caril Ann Fugate. Eventually, Terrence Malick's Badlands (1993) and Oliver Stone's Natural Born Killers (1994) would also follow suit in in adaptating the notorious young couple to film. Sadly that's left the The Sadist to fall by the wayside, which is a shame since this film doesn't deserve to be forgotten for laying down such an archetypal psychos in love template.

One of those films that I've heard about for many years, but never really got around to watching until this month. Fortunately, The Sadist lived up to my expectations. Not only is it a great film in its own right, but given its historical legacy, it's perhaps an important one, too.

The Wish List: Part 3

Horror fans with fat wallets are no doubt drooling over Second Sight's upcoming lush releases of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) and Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975). Personally, I'm more excited over the rumour of  High Tension (2003) and Frontière(s) (2007) getting some much needed shine from the aforementioned label.

Here are five more genre films from the noughties that deserve some HD remastered love:

Creep (Christopher Smith, 2004)

Quasi-remake of Gary Sherman's subterranean cannibal horror, Raw Meat (1972), AKA Death Line. The concept of a person being terrorised and alone in the London Underground during the wee hours has always fascinated me ever since An American Werewolf in London (1981) and Creep is an entire film based on this premise. So much entertainment value seeing what might be going on below our very feet. Smith was on a great run between this film and Black Death (2010). A shame Creep is more commonly associated with the overrated found footage film released a decade later.

Cold Prey (Roar Uthaug, 2006) & Cold Prey 2 (Mats Stenberg, 2008)

Two for the price of one here. Can't speak for the third film in the series, AKA the eponymous sequel that's really a prequel as I never watched it. What I do know is that both films did a far better job, unofficially of course, in capturing the original terror of  the first two Halloween films than Rob Zombie's attempts ever did. These snowswept, Norwegian chillers are two perfect examples of golden age slasher throwbacks given a respectful contemporary update.

Ils AKA Them (David Moreau & Xavier Palud, 2006)

Consigned to the list of forgotten great Euro horror films of the noughties. Ils might may lack the necessary splatter to appease gorehounds, but it's packed to the rafters with enough suspense and dread to make it one of the best kiddie horror flicks from the noughties. Even New French Extrmity aficionados appear oblivious to its existence and it really does deserve a second life with a HD remaster.

P2 (Franck Khalfoun, 2007)

Another peak alternative Christmas film that nobody mentions because they're too busy regurgitating the same old "Die Hard is a Christmas movie" narrative ad nauseam to even know about P2. Khalfoun's film is a great little cat and mouse thriller that proves that New French Extremity film makers like Aja, who co-wrote P2, understood more about seventies and eighties horror thrillers than their Hollywood contemporaries. Great performances from Rachel Nichols and Wes Bentley make this a must watch. In hindsight, I should have included this in my Hitchcockian Thrillers post.

Pandorum (Christian Alvart, 2009)

This was one of my favourite older film discoveries from last year. The fault really does fall upon me since I originally dismissed it as some bog standard Dennis Quaid vehicle when it first came out. Had any notable film critic mentioned Pandorum would be this dark and cerebral science fiction film, then I would have checked it out much sooner. Unfortunately, much like every other movie listed here, there hasn't been a worthy remastering ever since its initial home format release over a decade ago. That's a huge shame, in my opinion. 

There are a wealth of films from the noughties that seem to be caught in some kind of limbo while sandwiched between the nostalgia interest of previous decades and the more recent fondness for the 2010s; it sadly feels like a forgotten period, in my opinion. My monthly viewings posts somewhat proves this, unfortunately.

Dada Debaser Bonus: Speaking of the noughties, while listening to a film podcast this month, I discovered that Carter Smith, the director of the rather fun and gory The Ruins (2008), also helmed S Club 7's music video Reach. Mind blown!

Desert Island Blu-Ray Discs

Can totally relate with poor old Henry Bemis; there just isn't enough time in the world for the things I love, too.

Artistic and intellectual merit be damned, these are forty films I couldn't go without; one film per director.

The Forty:

Frankenstein (James Whale, 1931)

King Kong (Merian C. Cooper & Ernest B. Schoedsack, 1933)

The Day the Earth Stood Still (Robert Wise, 1951)

Dracula (Terence Fisher, 1958)

Psycho (Alfred Hitchcock, 1960)

Black Sabbath (Mario Bava, 1963)

The Great Escape (John Sturges, 1963)

Jason and the Argonauts (Don Chaffey, 1963)

Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! (Russ Meyer, 1965)

For A Few Dollars More (Sergio Leone, 1965)

The Dirty Dozen (Robert Aldrich, 1967)

Planet of the Apes (Franklin J. Schaffner, 1968)

Where Eagles Dare (Brian G. Hutton, 1968)

Dirty Harry (Don Siegel, 1971)

Jaws (Steven Spielberg, 1975)

Star Wars (George Lucas, 1977)

Suspiria (Dario Argento, 1977)

Dawn of the Dead (George A. Romero, 1978)

Alien (Ridley Scott, 1979)

The Shining (Stanley Kubrick, 1980)

An American Werewolf in London (1981)

The Thing (John Carpenter, 1982)

A Nightmare on Elm Street (Wes Craven, 1984)

The Terminator (James Cameron, 1984) 

Ferris Bueller's Day Off (John Hughes, 1986)

Evil Dead II (Sam Raimi, 1987)

Robocop (Paul Verhoeven, 1987)

Predator (John McTiernan, 1987)

Goodfellas (Martin Scorsese, 1990)

Pump Up the Volume (Alan Moyle, 1990)

Iron Monkey (Yuen Woo-Ping, 1993)

True Romance (Tony Scott, 1993)

Dumb and Dumber (Peter Farrelly & Bobby Farrelly, 1994)

Pulp Fiction (Quentin Tarantino, 1994)

Fight Club (David Fincher, 1999)

28 Days Later (Danny Boyle, 2002)

Love Exposure (Sion Sono, 2008)

Drive (Nicolas Winding Refn, 2011)

The Raid (Gareth Edwards, 2012)

Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)

Chances of electricity, along with a TV and a disc player are probably zilch on a desert island, but I doubt Lauren Laverne would want to rain on my parade with realism, especially when she thought she could sing during her short lived indie pop career.

Dada Debaser's Five More Pillars of Love and Happiness

There's a reason why George Roper outlived Mildred by over forty-three years (wonder if he kept the side car, though?): he was able to be himself in life. George could cotch in his bed with Mildred while muching on pickled onions, without an ounce of regret. The zen master of Haywards had achieved the highest state of stress free nirvana, a feat that we should all aspire to in life, in my opinion.

Since it's that time of the year again, here are a five more pillars of love and happiness this humble blogger was taught via film:

The Expendables ("I was worth it!" scene)

Sylvester Stallone, 2010

I Can't be Your Hero, Baby: Unless you're a hench, martial arts expert like Jason Statham, the chances of rolling up to your ex's new fella, in front of his mates, and sharing your disapproval of his mistreatment of her, won't exactly go down too well. To paraphrase a great philospher, "it's kinda hard to be optimistic when you're lying on the pavement dead twisted", especially when you're outnumbered six to one. The classic hero fantasy is exactly what it is - a fantasy. Ex girl to the next girl, wannabe Stathams!

964 Pinocchio (Supermarket scene)

Shozin Fukui, 1991

Drag Me to Hell: The worst way to spend the weekend is being dragged by your significant other to a horrendous mall and spend the entire day there shopping when you would rather chill at home and watch Peter and Roger going shopping in Dawn of the Dead (1978). Fortunately, abandoned sex robot, 964 Pinocchio, provides an invaluable tutorial in avoiding this situation by behaving like a complete nutter and promptly receiving Benny Hill slaps to his bonce while on excursion.

Giallo in Venice (Mussels scene)

Mario Landi, 1979

Love Mussel: Doomed lovers Fabio and Flavia from the notoriously nasty giallo Giallo in Venice taught a valuable lesson in relationship struggles when it's not purely a 50/50 affair. Fabio is about as subtle as a sledgehammer as he ridiculously attempts to entice poor Flavia by suggestively prodding at his seafood. Without resorting to spoiling a decades old movie, the aphrodisiac nosh doesn't exactly work out in the long run. Would also like to add, that I wouldn't personally recommend eating two plates of them at a restaurant when you're very far from home.

Swingers (Phone Call scene)

John Favreau, 1996

 

Don't Answer the Phone: Nothing reeks of pathetic despearation than being too eager in life; especially when its calling someone to arrange for a date after just meeting them. Back in the day, before John Favreau turned obese and hadn't defined the cut and paste formula for every MCU movie, he gave the world one of the most cringeworthy scenes from cinema, with his phone call scene from Swingers (1996). A valuable lesson in adhering to the three day wait rule.

Casino (Ginger's intro)

Martin Scorsese, 1996

 

Never Tell Me the Odds: Martin Scorsese's Casino is a fine example of how a casino owner and mob associate like Ace Rothstein can back the wrong horse and let it turn his life into a living nightmare. Falling hook, line and sinker for a person that never really loved him almost ended him permanently. A poignant message that's as old as time, that's sadly felled many in the process.

These latest examples turned out way more depressing than I originally intended, so here's the bit from the superior version of Breathless (1983) where Richard Gere shares his inner nerd and breaks down the plight of The Silver Surfer to Valérie Kaprisky. Such an intimate and romantic part in the film, Tarantino was more than likely inspired by it when he wrote the comic store scene in True Romance (1993). Both classic films.

Breathless (The Silver Surfer scene)

Jim McBride, 1983

Keep Rollin, Rollin, Rollin, Rollin

Orchestrator of Storms: The Fantastique World of Jean Rollin (The Iron Rose clip)

Dima Ballin & Kat Ellinger, 2022

 

Feeling entirely vindicated right about now over my completely shallow appreciation for Jean Rollin's The Iron Rose. Haven't done a dedicated review on it, nor any of Rollin's other films for that matter, but I left some honest thoughts on it in a post from last year. Imagine my surprise when I watched a clip of the new documentary on Rollin and my simpleton thoughts were completely echoed by whoever that scholarly person was they interviewed. Desperately want to see this documentary, but signing up to any subscription service to stream it is an immediate turn off.

Jean-Denis Bonan's lost French New Wave / genre mash-up made its worldwide debut on blu this month. Imagine if Jean Luc Godard had helmed Dressed to Kill during the Paris '68 protests and that might give you some idea what the film might be like. It features Rollin in an early cameo as a policeman. Mixed feelings over the film, but it gets the honour of being part of La Nouvelle Vague where it didn't make me want to throw a brick at my TV (even though the tuneless, French folk singing that serves as part of its soundtrack is utterly horrendous). Worth it for the extras, since I learnt about crusty, French activists almost driven to rioting after a screening of The Rape of the Vampire (1968), one of Rollin's earlier films. Très bon, Jean!

A Woman Kills (Trailer)

Jean-Denis Bonan, 1968

 

 

February seems to be the month of all things Jean Rollin, since the folks over at Indicator revealed the first of their Rollin home releases last week and I'm seriously tempted to cop both of them.

The Trouble with Triffids

The Day of the Triffids (Ken Hannam, 1981)

Been meaning to revisit Douglas Livingstone's adaptation of John Wyndham's 1951 book, The Day of the Triffids. The BBC six parter is largely regarded as a faithful adaptation to Wyndham's post-apocalyptic story, although I wouldn't know as I never had the chance to read it. What I do know is, it's way better than either the 1962 film and the BBC's other adaptation from 2009.

The triffids, a product of Cold War bio-engineering, are established in the mini-series as a highly valued plant commodity. Triffids produce an oil that's an invalauable fuel replacement for humanity. The fact that these large and mobile, flesh-eating plants with a venomous whiplike stinger, might pose as a very real threat to humanity someday, takes a back seat while mankind is living good.

A global event in the form of a "comet storm" (later hinted as a possible man made catastrophe) that leaves almost the entire human race blind, brings about the collapse of modern day civilisation. It's just prior to this apocalyptic event where triffid biologist Bill Masen, temporary blinded by one of the plants, wakes from his hospital slumber, removes his eye bandages and becomes one of the fortunate few to have their vision return after missing out on the celestial light show.

What makes this vintage slice of sci-fi television so endearing is its ability to convey a fantastical disaster with earnest sincerity; all on a shoe-string budget. Within six half hour episodes, the viewer is witness to a massive catastrophic event, societal devastation, gooners, tough moral dilemmas and a plague blight. The triffids themselves, are almost on the back burner in all this, but we know they're out there and thriving while humanity is brought to its knees. All achieved thanks to Livingstone's adaptation treating the viewer with a modicum of intelligence and not have to resort to epic hand-holding.

The cast do a more effective job with their performances than any flashy visual effects or Hollywood action hero theatrics in making this fantastically bleak premise feel somewhat believable. Intelligent dialogue and delivery goes a long way in conveying character developments when you have a very limited budget. John Duttine's portrayal of Bill comes across as relatable since we're witness to some agonising decisions he has to make in the series. Compassion and empathy can be fatal in this new world order, but they're attributes which profoundly separate us from being out right monsters.

As well as George A. Romero's zombie movies, Danny Boyle took obvious inspiration from the 1981 series for his game changer of a classic film 28 Days Later (2002) as there a few notable similarities to it: waking up in a hospital after a catastrophic scenario, and the possible threat from other survivors, e.g, the military, etc. Ironically, the 2009 adaptation did its hardest to channel the look and feel of 28 Days Later rather than its source material and still failed spectacularly. Victorian time traveller and film critic, Kim Newman, did not pull any punches with his review of it. I thought it lacked anything remotely serious or frightening in it. A good example is it even being outdone by the simple, yet chilling opening credits from its 1981 predecessor:

The Day of the Triffids (Opening Credits)

Ken Hannam, 1981 

 

This Budd’s for You

Roy Budd - Jazz It Up (MC/M4)

The Marseille Contract AKA The Destructors soundtrack, 1974

 

Roy Budd · Jazz It Up (MC/M4)

Utter the words "jazz funk" to me, and I'm mentally picturing Jamiroqui playing to a bunch of poncey chin-strokers on Later with Jools Holland, or some other corporate backslapping programme. Regardless of which, it's the ninth circle of Hell for this humble blogger. Fortunately, the late Roy Budd produced some angelic gems like Jazz It Up (MC/M4) whenever he tried his hand at producing film soundtracks.

Ironically, some of Budd's soundtrack choons sound closer to being spawned in a recording studio in the South Side of Chicago rather than South London; like a complete vice versa with the legendary Quincy Jones. The man had the Midas touch and even laced Celebrity Big Brother twister Leo Sayer a cool guitar riff when they worked together.

Choice picks:

Carter Takes a Train (from Get Carter, 1971)

The Stone Killer (Main Titles) (from The Stone Killer, 1973)

Jazz It Up (MC/M4) (from The Marseille Contract, 1974)

The Thief  (from Diamonds, 1975)

Mister Funker (M15 - FB) (from Foxbat, 1977)

Who Dares Wins (from Who Dares Wins AKA The Final Option, 1982)

Nineties Brit pop heads might have first learnt about Roy Budd thanks to the renewed interest in Get Carter at the time, but for yours truly, it was when I first caught Who Dares Wins on TV while channel surfing, and witnessed that testosterone fuelled scene where an uzi toting Lewis Collins and his SAS boys ran down that US embassy hallway to neutralise an eighties precursor to Greta Thunberg.

Who Dares Wins (US Embassy Assault scene)

Ian Sharp, 1982

 

Dada Debaser's Backstabbers, Traitors & Sellouts

As mediocre as Dracula 2000 (2000) was, it contained one of my fave character origin twists in a film. A romanticised villain like Count Dracula being the cursed byproduct of an even more notorious individual from the annals of Western culture was surprisingly unique. This sparked the question: what other treacherous snakes out there are synonymous in film and television? Below, are ten individuals that I felt answered this question. Here are the most odious bunch that instantly come to my mind (or until I realise there's someone out there even worse):

Claude Gaspard: Jacques Becker's Le Trou (1960) accomplished two great feats for this film fan: it simultaneously became one of my fave French films and prison movies. Trust is a vital component in Becker's film and it's even more valuable as the viewer is witness to all that entails in a detailed jail break attempt. It almost feels like it's filmed in real time with the lengthy breaking concrete scene. Gaspard being the new lad in the cramped cell eventually proves his fellow inmates' suspicions correct with his eventual snitching. It's a heart wrenching ending since Gaspard's inmates exhibited such noble camaraderie and put so much time and effort only for it to be snatched away from them by this backstabber.

Fredo Corleone: Perhaps one of the most famous moments from The Godfather films is Michael Corleone's "I know it was you, Fredo." scene , but it was a long time coming for the frail brother after taking sides with Moe Greene. The mafioso saga takes a Shakespearean turn when Michael realises his older brother Fredo had unwittedly helped conspire an assassination attempt upon him. Since birth, Fredo was the weakest of the Corleone clan and it's no surprise the family's rivals would wind up exploiting him in one form or another. It would eventually lead to his classic off-screen death. Sadly, it was followed by a confession in the final film, where Michael comically wolfed down a chocolate bar in the unintentionally hilarious third film.

Carter J. Burke: More than likely a graduate from The Gordon Gekko School of Ethics & Economics, Carter Burke has got to be amongst the most dastardly corporate scumbags to ever grace the silver screen. His attempt to smuggle a dangerous, alien xenomorph through quarantine by Ripley and Newt becoming impreganted hosts earnt him the mantle of secondary villain in Aliens (1986). A nice twist of fate is his famous deleted scene after Burke locked the door to the medical bay during Hudson's last stand. Goreman may have always been an "asshole", but at least he redeemed himself by going back for Vasquez when she was injured.

John Smith: A shame the television series The Man in the High Castle was a mess, as it featured one of the most intriguing villains in it. Based on a novel by Philip K. Dick, this alternate history series, where the Axis Powers seize control over much of the world after their victory in WWII, shows John Smith, a former US army captain, becoming one of the most powerful men in the Third Reich. Smith's commitment to his family in this nightmare world ultimately transforms him into the very monster he fought against. From wearing the swastika armband to ruling Nazi occupied America, Smith is one of the most monsterous examples of a man who sold out his fellow brothers and his country.

Kent Brockman: There's no about heel turn as swift as witnessing Kent Brockman's complete selling out of the entire human race when he mistakenly assumes astronaut Homer Simpson's spaceship has been conquered by giant alien ants. This embarassing assumption surprisingly works as a satirical, yet poignant take on today's lack of scruples in modern journalism. It also gets farcically worse as he offers to exploit his celebrity status to help round up humans as slaves for "our insect overlords". Both simultaneously comical and disturbing since it has me asking: how many others out there would sellout at the drop of a dime if ever a ridiculous premise like this occurred? Fiver on Piers Morgan!

Ephialtes: Originating from the name of the shepherd who betrayed King Leonidas and his three hundred Spartans to the Persians at the Battle of Thermopylae; his name has forever been synonymous in the Greek lexicon with that of history's most infamous traitor. His depitction in 300 (2007) as this grossly deformed and pathetic individual lends no revisionist sympathy in altering his status as one of the ancient world's biggest sellouts. Witnessing his submission to King Xerxes to for wealth, women and a traitor's uniform even pisses off blokes like me - over two thousand years later! Meanwhile, no one ever mentions Theron.. "Traitor!"

David Kleinfeld: Not content with giving us a horrible rat bastard like Omar Suarez in Scarface (1983), Brian De Palma gave us three more treacherous scorpions in the forms of Lalin, Pachanga, and worst of all, David Kleinfeld in Carlito's Way (1993). This wretched lawyer posing as Carlito's friend not only planned to false testify against a reformed Carlito, but robbed a million from an imprisoned mob boss. Drugged out and constantly higher than his own hairline, Kleinfeld was one of the most untrustworthy people out there and woe betide anyone foolishly considering his as a friend. The only positive attribute about him was his taste in women was better than Carlito's, since Steffie was well fit and way hotter than Gail.

Drifter: George "Buck" Flower had an entire career playing winos and bums. Simply credited as "Drifter" in John Carpenter's alien conspiracy film They Live (1988), it's perhaps his most memorable role. Transforming from a homeless nobody into a wealthy somebody raises the question of how many others out there, with nothing but their souls, would sell that to gain an advantage in life?  Drifter's speech to Nada and Frank is one of my favourite quotables from the film: "What's the threat? We all sell out every day, might as well be on the winning team." and has appeared in other media ever since. Holly is another backstabbing trairor featured in They Live, too.

Rifki: Having to do porridge is harrowing enough, but serving it out in a Turkish hellhole like the one from Alan Parker's Midnight Express (1978) has to be a fate worse than death for any normal folk. Foreign prisoners have it even worse, as they're treated lesser people by both their fellow inmates and by sadistic guards like Hamidou. Rifki, the guards' sneaky and treacherous lapdog makes life even more unbearable for westerners like Billy and Max. The lowest of the low, Rifki even kills Max's cat for his own personal pleasure. Fortunately, the snake finally gets his comeuppance when Billy flips his shit and silences his tongue. Shame he didn't die, though.

Colonel Nicholson: While other contenders listed here lack any sense of honour whatsoever, Col. Nicholson's is completely fuelled by it. It's a form of hubris where it drives him to blinkered madness in aiding and abetting his Japanese captors with building a bridge that would be part of their strategic war effort. Nicholson effectively turns into an enemy collaborator and only realises it until his last seconds of sanity return to him before his redemptive death. Nicholson's descent into treachery where he rallies his fellow British PoWs in helping with the Japanese is a sight to behold and one that would warrant plentiful discussion by any film heads turned armchair shrinks out there.

Other Dishonourable Mentions: 

Brockley from Daleks' Invasion Earth 2150 A.D (1966); Guy Woodhouse from Rosemary's Baby (1968); Edmund Yates from Frightmare (1974); Stephen "Flyboy" from Dawn of the Dead (1978); Turkey from The Wanderers (1979); Slater from Only Fools and Horses (1981 - 2003); Miguel from Day of the Dead (1985); Grant from Die Hard 2: Die Harder (1990); Cypher from The Matrix (1999); Salvatore "Big Pussy" Bonpensiero  & Adriana La Cerva from The Sopranos (1999 - 2007); Scud from Blade II (2002); Stringer Bell from The Wire (2002 - 2008) and Koba from Dawn of the Planet of the Apes (2014).