Gangs of New York

The Warriors (Opening Credits/Intro)

Walter Hill, 1979

Robert Wise helmed The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951) and The Haunting (1963); two films more than worthy of "classic" status for your host. Sadly, he also gave us West Side Story (1961) and The Sound of Music (1965). The former irked the novelist Sol Yurick so much, it resulted in him writing his book The Warriors in response.

Walter Hill's adaptation of The Warriors (1979) really deserves a more dedicated review in the forseeable future. In any case, here are some thoughts on what's arguably one of the greatest seventies film intros alongside Jaws (1975), Star Wars (1977) and Halloween (1978). 

What I love about the opening credits is how it sets up the goal for the film's characters, the rivalry of its gangs, including the power struggle between Warriors members Swan (Michael Beck) and Ajax (James Remar) and the potential dangers involved in attending self styled Martin Luther King, gang leader Cyrus's sermon. This is all perfectly accompanied by Barry De Vorzon's killer soundtrack.

Big fan of all the various gangs from the film, even if some of them look down right ridiculous like the Marcel Marceau inspired street thugs the Hi-Hats. Personal fave dressed gang not named Baseball Furies is the all asian collective known as the Savage Huns. Despite them only appearing in the opening intro, their all green clobber reminds me of Sandy from the TV series Monkey (1978 - 1980) and the rebel commandos from Return of the Jedi (1983), which probably molded my taste in military green apparel and camo wear at an early age.

Bongos and Black Lace

Blood and Black Lace (Opening Credits)

Mario Bava, 1964

 

Like many Italian directors, Mario Bava dabbled in a multitude of different film genres throughout his career. His most celebrated works often fell under the horror umbrella, such as the gothic classics Black Sunday (1960) and Black Sabbath (1963). He also defined another genre; the giallo.

Blood and Black Lace (1964) might not have been Bava's first attempt at the giallo, but it laid a lot of the blueprint we would expect from the genre: from the graphic (and sometimes erotocised) deaths of beautiful, young women; to the opulent and lavish settings and locations; and the often imitated masked trenchcoat killer - Bava would turn the genre into an inspirational slayground to up and comers like Dario Argento, Sergio Martino, and Lucio Fulci.

You need only witness the opening credits from Blood and Black Lace to be convinced he was a master at his craft. Set in an elite fashion house, the sequence features its statuesque looking cast, situated with colourful flora (bouquets or wreaths) and eerie looking mannequins (which both reflects their superficiality and the forshadowing of their lifeless state), setting the tone for Bava's sardonically macabre tale. This is all complimented with his typical visual splendour; while composer Carlo Rustichelli's downtempo, cabaret-style score has an air of potential doom about it, quelling any potential doubts.

The rest of the film masterfully lives up to those opening credits, to the point where I consider it amongst the greatest in the genre.

Blood and Black Lace (Nicole's Murder Scene)

Mario Bava, 1964 

This is Our Waterloo, Baby!

Vigilante (Opening Monologue)

(William Lustig, 1982)

According to Prime Video, Night Vision (1997) was listed as a recommendation for me. Googled it and assessed a film starring Fred Williamson, Cynthia Rothrock and Bushwick Bill was more than worthy of my time. Sadly, it was anything but great and left me feeling the need to erase the sight of a drunk Williamson in his Y-fronts from my memory. Now is a good time than any other to gush over William Lustig's film, Vigilante (1982). While Michael Winner's infamous Death Wish (1974) arguably set the precedent of common folk taking the law into their own hands, the wave of vigilante thrillers really reached its apex in the early eighties with films like The Exterminator (1980), Death Wish II (1982) and Sudden Impact (1983).

Fred Williamson's opening monologue is a classic stand-out scene in the vigilante subgenre. It also happens to be the film where I first discovered the cigar chompin' actor; way before his blaxploitation and Italian sci-fi films. That might explain my nostalgic bias for Vigilante over many of his other films. Even though he plays a supporting role to Robert Forster's everyman lead, that incredible monologue speaks volumes and still feels very poignant today. The rest of the film is equally on par with its classic intro and comes more credibly recommended from me than any internet based algorithm.

Really kicking myself for forgeting Jay Chattaway's Vigilante score in my faves Electronic Soundtracks list.

Big in Milan

Milano Calibro 9 (Pre-Opening Credits Sequence)

(Fernando Di Leo, 1972)

 

 

When it comes to opening scenes from a film, not many come close to Fernando Di Leo's Milano Calibro 9 (1972), aka Calibre 9, for me. Bold statement for sure, but it's the one film intro I return to again and again on YouTube, far more frequently than the rest. The sequence of events themselves have their own beginning, middle and end; which could easily class them components to an amazing short film, if one deemed it necessary. 

The logistical complexity of a shady and convoluted money exchange, switching from the various people involved, from one location to the next, earns my attention instinctively. To then follow it with a double-cross and the eventual spectacular payback, all while prog-rock band Osanna's rousing Preludio accompanies the scenes, takes it to a whole new stratospheric level of appreciation from me. It's such an amazing film prelude, that the rest of the film hardly lives up to it, even if Lionel Stander, better known as Max the butler from Hart to Hart, plays a mob boss in it. However, it is kind of unique to have a heavy set looking actor like Gastone Moschin, familiar to most as Don Fanucci from Francis Ford Coppola's The Godfather Part II (1974), as the film's protagonist, Ugo. Last film I saw him in was as a goofy British copper in the Agatha Christie inspired giallo, The Weekend Murders (1970), so he's way more suited on the other side of the law for me.

 

Not even going to pretend that I'm a massive fan of the film, nor that I understand the love for much of Di Leo's work, but to keep it all positive, I will add that Milano Calibro 9's intro scene for Barbara Bouchet, Dada Debaser's second favourite giallo queen after Edwige Fenech, is the stuff of legend and the best scene, other than the sublime pre-opening credits; especially after the recent go-go dancer post I made.

Milano Calibro 9 (Nelly's Dance Scene)

(Fernando Di Leo, 1972)

 

You Go a Go-Go

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to go-go. Since the beginning of time mankind has always peddled its wares with the marketing strategy of having an attractive female to promote the sale of a product or a service. In the world of cinema, that ethos was also applicable. Here are three examples of great films utilising this tactic from the offset:

 

Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! (Opening Narration & Credits)

(Russ Meyer, 1965)

 

There's nothing more intolerable than wannabe Roger Eberts having an orgasm over some overrated hack film maker's work. Biggest insult of all is when these Letterboxd urchins flaunt the word "auteur" with such wreckless abandon. One film maker however, who most definitely was a great auteur, was the late great Russ Meyer, aka "King of the Nudies", "King Leer" and "The Fellini of the Sex Industry". His quintessential style encompassing buxom women, leering camerwork and creative editing was second to none. His most heralded film is undoubtely Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! (1965), which ushered into the world of cult cinema the likes of Tura Satana, Lori Williams and Dada Debaser's favourite, Haji.These three lasses know what they've got and how to use it and were never damsels in distress.

 

Die Screaming Marianne (Opening Credits)

(Pete Walker, 1971)

 

Other than Zardoz (1974), perhaps the biggest crime in the British film industry is the complete lack of appreciation for one of its finest sons, Pete Walker. Making the switch from sexploitation to horror was easy as pie for the director, since both genres that are forever huddled together with ignorant contempt by the morality brigade, are much easier to produce on a low budget. In between his transitioning of genres our Pete made Die Screaming Marianne; a Brit giallo of sorts, that's largely forgettable sadly, with the exception of the film's opening titles. Cult siren of the seventies and early eighties, Susan George gogo dancing amongst a minimal red background, feels somewhat contradictory; as it harkens to some big show girl spectacle from a bygone era in Hollywood, while tapping into the contemporay (for its time, at least) aesthetic of post-Summer of Love hippiedom. It's too bad Die Screaming Marianne was boring, but on a positive note, Susan George wound up in both Fright and Straw Dogs in the very same year and Pete Walker would release his first classic film, The Flesh and Blood Show (1972) the following year.

 

Do the Right Thing (Opening Credits)

(Spike Lee, 1989) 

 

1989 the number, another dancer. Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing (1989) serves as an excellent tale of the boiling racial tension on a hot summer's day in Brooklyn, but the actual reason it struck a chord with a certain age demographic back then, was seeing butter Pecan Rican, Rosie Perez bustin' her moves over Public Enemy's Fight the Power. Lee claimed inspiration from seeing Anne Margaret singing and dancing in the opening sequence of Bye Bye Birdie (1963). Yours truly doesn't believe a word of it and believes Spike watched her one time on Soul Train and obliged Chuck D's request of "got to give us what we want! Got to give us what we need!" by getting Miss Perez on the set working up a sweat for our entertainment. Film connoisseurs mostly gloss over this intro, or at best, or employ lingo such as "empowering" and "liberating" before spouting off about the film's poignant social commentary. Which is all very noble, but for late eighties male teens, Miss Perez air boxing and pop lockin' in that blue lycra and leather jacket ensemble was an unexpected pleasure, much the same as finding a bunch of discarded porn mags in the park with your school mate. Cheers, Spike!

These are the only examples that immediatley come to mind which utilised a dancing woman in their respective film's opening intros. The James Bond franchise's opening credits were a different kettle of fish altogether, in my opinion. There are probably other examples after 1989, but my mind is drawing a blank at this point in time.

The Cold War, Daily Routine

The Iprcress File (Opening Credits Scene)

(Sidney J. Furie, 1965)

A superior example where the opening sequence of a film sets the whole tone and precedent for a film, can be witnessed in Sidney J. Furie's cerebral spy thriller, The Ipcress File (1965). 

Thanks to the success of the James Bond franchise in the sixties, it set into motion the trend for copycat spy adventure movies - Matt Helm, Derek Flint and Modesty Blaise, to name but a few. One standout from the pack was Len Deighton's anonymous working class protagonist, who first appeared in his debut novel, The Ipcress File. 

The film adaptation did away with the outlandish and ridiculous stylings of its peers, and focused on some of the mundane and beaurocratic nonsense its freshly christened hero, Harry Palmer, had to contend with amidst the dangerous realm of cold war espionage.

Michael Caine plays our hero and from the very onset, there's nothing glorious about it, as we the viewer are privvy to Palmer's mundane morning routine: waking up, prepping breakfast, browsing the airs and graces, and getting ready for work. What makes this scene steer from just good to great is John Barry's wonderful score. The laidback jazz theme has a novel complexity as the sound of a cymbalom instantly summons stereotypical images of beautiful Russian agents in mink fur coats, poison-tipped umbrellas and trips to Salisbury cathedral. It's complimented with a cheeky trumpet, which would not go amiss in a British Carry On... film. That is a combo that sums up the dichotic world of Harry Palmer to a tee; east meets west.

 

Dada Debaser Bonus:

Can't believe I watched Last Night in Soho (2021) more than a few times and I only just realised the opening notes from John Barry's Beat Girl was featured in the Jäger shots scene. Would have mentioned it in my Beat Girl (1959) review a while back, if I had:

John Barry - Beat Girl

(Beat Girl Soundtrack, 1960)

John Barry · Main Titile - Beat Girl