GANGSTER STORY (1959)

It's hard to craft a proper introduction for Gangster Story. In fact, I'm not sure if a proper summary or description could do it justice. But I'll try as best I can to show a little of why you should see it for yourselves.

Walter Matthau as Jack (not Jake) Martin

Carol Grace as Carol Logan

Bruce MacFarlane as Earl Dawson

Garry Walberg as Adolph

Gangster Story is the first and only film Walter Matthau ever directed himself, as he and newlywed wife Carol Grace were virtually broke at the time. Accepting the jobs of star and director for just $2500, Matthau later said that "It was a poor script by a hack writer and a famous cardiovascular surgeon who produced the film with his brother who was a textile manufacturer from Philadelphia." He also said that the film "premiered at Loew's in Newark, and was so bad it never crossed the Hudson."

Keep those descriptions in mind when watching this film.

Remember that curtain pattern. You'll see it again later.

Gangster Story is the "true story" (yeah, no) of notorious bank robber Jack Martin. Already wanted for the murder of two cops, he first plans a bank job upon his arrival in late-50s Orange County. 

Matthau's legendary acting teacher Raikin Ben-Ari as a plumber. 

Despite having only one scene, he's easily 

the most memorable character in the movie.

From virtually the first scene in Gangster Story, you will feel the serious need to leave your brain at the door. Do not be worried. This is a normal reaction, I assure you.

In a sequence that really must be seen to be believed, Jack calls the local police department pretending to be a film studio exec, asking for several cops to play themselves in a fake robbery scene (really) outside of a bank building, all while he's actually robbing the safe inside. Never mind how absolutely no one at any point asks for any permits (you know, being in Orange County and all), but none of the cops question why only Jack is present at the building front with them (with no crew to speak of), even if it's just a rehearsal.

No, you're not looking at two different scenes. 

This is really how this sequence is framed.

Local crime boss Earl Dawson soon gets wind of the robbery, and angry that an outsider pulled a job in his territory, he sends two henchmen after Jack.

We're supposed to believe Jack is able to at least be briefly unnoticeable in the racetrack crowd. However, when it's six-foot-something, dark-haired Walter Matthau in the middle of a sparse area, that's a stretch to say the least.

After evading the henchmen at the track, Jack walks into a library, looking for work. The librarian doesn't seem to be all that fazed when Jack tells her flat out that he's a bank robber.

Having met on the Broadway production of Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter?, 

Matthau and Grace married in 1959.

A shot from the obligatory "falling in love" montage, 

though adorable in its own way.

And while we do get some answer as to why Carol takes to Jack the way she does (having been abandoned by her friends, mainly), the script makes this dynamic confusing at best, especially later on.

Matthau and Grace have some chemistry, 

but the script gives them little to work with.

Eventually, Jack kills one henchman and knocks out the other, and after Jack flees, Dawson just has Adolph shoot the surviving henchman for his failure, complete with the henchman's voice veering towards Mel Blanc-as-Edward G. Robinson territory.

Which brings me to the dubbing. While all the actors dubbed their own voices in post, the result (among other things) makes me wonder how MST3K never got their hands on this film. 

Rather than hunt Jack down, Dawson instead comes to Carol's house and proposes Jack join his gang. Given how Jack had just killed his other henchman, this would seem like a terrible idea.

But Jack agrees to join for the money and protection, and after a newspaper montage, Jack and Dawson plan to rob the safe at a country club.

Yes, that is Vic "Mel" Tayback as the guard in the middle.

After they pull off the job (and several other men are killed), Carol tells Jack that she is leaving him due to her not being able to deal with him being a murderer. This, despite knowing he had killed before the last robbery, not to mention her having been fine with his other crimes. I point this out because the script doesn't say much regarding a "sense of danger" or anything else to keep her with him. And while a part of me hesitates from criticizing the script too much (mainly due to Matthau re-writing it every day of filming), the truth is, little in the film can be taken seriously (to put it mildly).

There's the curtain pattern again. Keep in mind,

this is supposed to be a completely different apartment.

Again, my synopsis can't do it justice. You'll have to see the rest of the story for yourself.

Make no mistake, Gangster Story is bad. It's best enjoyed as a "so bad, it's good" indie movie, along with being a snapshot of an Orange County that's all but gone now. Not only do I recommend it for bad movie buffs, but it's also a short sit, with a total runtime of (I'm not kidding) 68 minutes. And it's arguably the easiest Matthau film to find, being on YouTube for your viewing amusement.

Car enthusiasts should get a kick out of the rods seen in Gangster Story.

Thankfully, the Gangster Story story has a happy ending. Not only did it outgross its competitor, The Wreck of the Mary Deere (so many questions), but Matthau and Grace stayed married until Matthau's death in 2000. 

TIDBITS AND SUCH 

Matthau and Grace's son Charlie Matthau (above) went on to be a successful director himself, directing his father in The Grass Harp (based on the novel by his mother's friend Truman Capote) and The Marriage Fool (a.k.a. Love After Death) co-starring Carol Burnett. 

Garry Walberg (Adolph) would go on to play Lt. Frank Monahan on the series Quincy, M.E. from 1976 to 1983.

Makeshift home video covers are nothing new for films like Gangster Story, but these are something to behold. While the first two aren't terrible, the last one, with a mustachioed Matthau and the NYC skyline (neither of which are in the actual film), also shows the World Trade Center towers, which wouldn't be built for at least another decade.

Copyright © Chynna Moore

IL PICCOLO DIAVOLO (THE LITTLE DEVIL) (1988)

Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Exorcised Demons.

(Subtitle by me.)

My familiarity (Versedness? What's the word?) with foreign film is sliver-like at best. (My knowledge of Canadian film isn't much better either. Certainly To Catch a Yeti wouldn't count, would it?) 

But sometimes, whether it be through an actor, director, genre, or, in The Little Devil's case, a logo (see below), my path to a film, obscure or not, can come from and lead me to some unusual places.

Roberto Benigni as Giuditta, the titular "Little Devil"

Walter Matthau as Father Maurice/Maurizio

Nicoletta Braschi as Nina

Stefania Sandrelli as Patricia/Patrizia

In several ways, The Little Devil is an unusual film, not just in its concept and execution, but also in its cast. Sure, Italian comedies with American stars were nothing new. (See Bette Davis and Joseph Cotten in 1972's The Scopone Game (a.k.a. The Scientific Cardplayer).) But seeing Walter Matthau of all people having to deal with an exorcised demon is unusual by any stretch of the imagination.

One of Matthau's many faces in this film. And it is just glorious.

The Little Devil is not a film that's huge on plot, and that's fine. It is a story that largely rests on its characters and their interactions with the titular devil, ironically the most innocent and childlike of them all. It's this charm, personality, and light-hearted narrative tissue that holds the film together, as embodied by Benigni (who also directed).

At the North American Pontifical College in Rome, Father Maurice has been given an ultimatum by Patricia, the woman he's fallen in love with, to make up his mind regarding leaving the church for her. However, when he exorcises a demon from a woman, Giuditta the demon, with nowhere else to go, chooses to tag along with Maurice instead. Hilarity ensues.

Matthau and Benigni's buddy cop prequel to The Couch Trip

would sadly be short-lived.

After several failed attempts at ditching Giuditta, as well as Giuditta's mischief getting him in trouble, Maurice is urged by his superiors to take a vacation, where he tries to win Patricia back.

At dinner with Maurice and his peers, Giuditta relates the story 

of being "inside" the woman he was possessing. 

The other guests react accordingly.

Yes, Giuditta's doing exactly what you think he's doing.

Again, Benigni's childlike wonder and Giuditta's total innocence keeps the events described above from coming off as totally crass or grotesque.

Inspired by an outdoor fashion show with model Nina,

Giuditta turns a solemn Mass into a fun runway show.

Driving the first half of the movie is the odd but lovable pairing of Benigni and Matthau. They are pure joy to watch together, and their contrasts play well off each other, resulting in a 2+2=5 for the film.

Matthau and Benigni's chemistry is The Little Devil's

biggest and best surprise.

Matthau is in fine comedic form here, whether by himself or playing off Benigni, and he's greatly missed when he's gone for the film's second half. Even a movie with just the two of them would have been great.

The film's second half sees Giuditta, now on his own, explore the world around him further and interacting with other characters, including Patricia herself after her first attempt to leave Maurice.

Giuditta is fascinated by the digital watch

of a fellow train passenger (Giacomo Piperno).

Soon, however, Giuditta falls for Nina, the model he saw earlier, and tries to learn how to woo her, with mixed results, to say the least.

Giuditta seeks love advice from hotel guest Cusatelli (John Lurie).

Braschi's Nina is hot-and-cold, impulsive, and temperamental, the opposite of sorts to Giuditta. Her behavior only fascinates him further and it's clear eventually that he also fascinates her. 

Benigni and future wife Braschi's characters engage

in a more intricate tennis match of contrasts.

Nina's regular stunt of pretending to be the girlfriend of 

random strangers is questionable at best, but Giuditta 

repeating the stunt verbatim brings it into absurdity.

Under normal circumstances, Nina's characterization would not age well, but the movie's twist near the very end does explain at least some of her behavior (even if it also makes the preceding events more complicated than needed for the big "goal" to be met). 

Near the end, Maurice returns, and it seems Patricia has left him for good, since we never hear of her  again. Given she wanted him to leave the church, but left him for showing up to Giuditta's mass sick in a bathrobe, he's probably better off without her anyway.

The conspiracy theorist in me likes to think the blue bathrobe from 

The Love Machine returned for a one-time appearance.

Seeing this shot: Totally worth it.

The Little Devil is a film that surprised me in several ways. Not being familiar with Italian society and Catholicism (or most religion in general, to be honest) and missing some of its satire didn't keep me from still enjoying the film and its inherent charm. In terms of its themes and execution, it's quite an accessible film and I think just about everyone will get something out of it.

BUT NOW, HERE'S THE BAD NEWS...

Unfortunately, there is a reason why you've probably never heard of this film or knew it even existed: The Little Devil was never given an official wide release in English. While a fully-English version was theatrically shown in Australia and select cities in Canada, and released on home video (subtitled) in countries like Greece, DVD and Blu-ray copies only have the film in Italian.

The Italian version is fully dubbed (with the main Italian actors dubbing themselves), including Matthau, with the exception of his brief singing. So the best chance you have right now of seeing it in English is a VHS quality copy on YouTube with Greek subtitles.

Between the two, I did notice several of Braschi and Benigni's scenes filmed in English and some different camera angles, but nothing substantial. The Italian dub copy I had is missing a later scene where Maurice tries to talk with Patricia to win her back, indicating it was sourced from a German master that originally cut the scene (ironically it's intact in both the English and Italian versions).

Maybe Kino Lorber can help us North Americans out, like it did with Charley Varrick, hm?

LOGO GEMS

The Columbia Pictures Italia logo is the "80s Torch Lady", but in all red. From what I could find, this is the normal version and not a variant done for this film. I also suddenly feel really bad for sensitive-eyed moviegoing Italians in the 80s.

TIDBITS AND SUCH

Evan Lurie (brother of John)'s music from the film is available on YouTube and is catchy as hell. Good luck getting "Devil Tango Casino" out of your head for the next week.

I'm not a huge fan of the original Italian poster, since its perspective always throws me off. I actually prefer the German poster, which has a great painting of Matthau and Benigni, even if it makes the film look racier than it actually is.

Also, this magazine cover looks like they just woke up poor Matthau, huh?

There are plenty of worse ways to spend an hour and a half than The Little Devil. It's a spacious, gentle film that's a breath of fresh air and is sure to open your mind a little, if you're a bit averse to foreign films.

Copyright © Chynna Moore