"Who Is That Guy?!": Kenneth McMillan

One of my all-time favorite character actors, Kenneth McMillan's is a face any fan of the cinema of the '70s and '80s will remember. Even though liver disease took him way too early, at age 56 (January 8th marked the 22nd anniversary of his passing), and his film career spanned less than 20 years, his film resume is chock full of fine projects: Serpico, The Taking of Pelham One Two Three, Girlfriends, Carny, Bloodbrothers, Runaway Train, Chilly Scenes of Winter, Ragtime, Eyewitness, The Pope of Greenwich Village, True Confessions, Amadeus, and Reckless. TV roles included spots on Rhoda, Dark Shadows, Starsky & Hutch, The Rockford Files, Kojak, Magnum, P.I. and myriad telefilms and mini-series. This was a working actor. And, that's not even including his roles in the original Broadway runs of David Rabe, Joe Papp, and Mike Nichols' Streamers and David Mamet and Ulu Grobard's American Buffalo, alongside Robert Duvall and John Savage.

My earliest childhood memory of McMillan onscreen is of watching him countless times in the memorable "The Ledge" episode in Lewis Teague's Cat's Eye. This guy is just so damned pleased with himself after he captures his wife's lover (Robert Hays) and makes the pretty boy walk around the ledge of his Atlantic City high-rise. Who can forget McMillan cackling and howling while jumping up and down on his bed in a satin robe? I sure as hell can't!

As a kid, I'm pretty sure I had this action figure of his character from Dune:

So, obviously, as evidenced by Dune, Cat's Eye, Ragtime, and other roles, it was easy for filmmakers to use his physique and facial features for villainous parts or as cops, but my favorites remain those that utilized his working class, New York Irish persona: Bloodbrothers, as a paralyzed bar owner who shares a heartbreaking scene with co-star Paul Sorvino, Reckless, as Aidan Quinn's hard-boozing old man, Eyewitness, as Bill Hurt's paralyzed pop, and, most especially, Chilly Scenes of Winter, in which he plays Gloria Grahame's loving husband and stepfather to John Heard. Heard is hard on the guy, but eventually McMillan's old softie is able to crack Heard's exterior as symbolized by the young man's acceptance of his gift of Turtle Wax. I've missed McMillan's high-pitched, New York-accented voice on screen for the last couple decades, but I'm thankful the actor was so busy during his two decades of performing, leaving behind plenty that I still have not seen.

McMillan almost has as much screen time in this trailer for Blue Skies Again as star Robyn Barto and Obscure One-Sheet sure is thrilled about that:

After all of the Stephen King cinematic references, watch McMillan chew scenery at the expense of Robert Hays and the titular cat:

10 Favorite Rep Films Seen for the First Time in 2010

My good buddy Rupe over at Rupert Pupkin Speaks has been kind enough to post my "10 Favorite Rep Films Seen for the First Time in 2010" list. Have a look...

Greetings from the South Bronx...circa 1980-81

Just caught up with these two 1981 genre entries (one a straight-up police drama, the other a police-occult horror hybrid) via cheap DVDs from Amazon Marketplace. While neither was particularly well-received upon release, I see them as two more supremely valuable filmed documents of pre-gentrification, pre-Giuliani New York City, particularly the Bronx, which isn't seen as often in Hollywood films as some of the other boroughs. Aside from this, even though I know I shouldn't be at this point, I'm continuously fascinated by the way in which the studios can all pounce on the same idea at the same time; my favorite example of this is probably the "gang cycle" of 1979 and, here, on a smaller scale, we have the Bronx movies of '81, one made by Time-Life Films (distributed by Fox) and the other made by Orion (distributed by Warner). I would be curious to know of other mainstream Hollywood films, which made as much use of dilapidated Bronx buildings and neighborhoods as Wolfen and Fort Apache, The Bronx did, around the same time as these two pictures. Feel free to leave them in the comments section below.


Directed by Michael Wadleigh (Woodstock), Wolfen is stylishly filmed by Wadleigh, d.p. Gerry Fisher, and production designer Paul Sylbert, effectively using the same kind of p.o.v. thermography as Predator would several years later. Along with all of the great Bronx location work, which includes an abandoned church built and destroyed specifically for the film, Wolfen also has some beautiful footage of the Brooklyn Bridge, Battery Park, and some absolutely breathtaking shots from atop of the Manhattan Bridge. Albert Finney leads a great cast that includes Diane Venora, Edward James Olmos, Gregory Hines, Tom Noonan, and Dick O'Neill in a story about an ancient breed of wolves, with Native American connections, feasting on Bronx denizens that is perhaps a little leisurely and padded at just under two hours. That said, we're left with an air of mystery and ambiguity at the conclusion and have antagonists that are not entirely bad and, in fact, are admirable and sympathetic in many respects. Not having read the Whitley Strieber novel on which the film is based, I'm not sure how faithful the film is, or if my reading from the film is entirely correct. Nevertheless, I was mostly riveted throughout. If made today, Wolfen would probably somehow be even longer, but less nuanced and deliberate than the 1981 film in favor of more explicit f/x, horror, and gore.

I haven't yet read this scholarly piece on Wolfen and its representation of the Bronx, but it looks quite interesting.

It's funny that I watched this right before my brother introduced me to this site, which features some magnificent and audacious illegally-shot footage from atop the Williamsburg Bridge and inside abandoned subway stations and tunnels.

Fort Apache, The Bronx boasts what is, as far as I can tell, the last action role for Paul Newman. At 55, the actor's age is not surprisingly used as a major plot point in this story of a veteran New York cop toiling away in the city's most dangerous precinct. I would agree with the criticism of the time that said that the film's overall construction and narrative felt quotidien and tv-like, but, with hindsight, the film looks a lot better because of its sincere approach, stellar cast (Newman, Ed Asner, Ken Wahl, Danny Aiello, Pam Grier, Rachel Ticotin, Kathleen Beller, Miguel Pinero, Paul Gleason, Randy Jurgensen, Sully Boyar), and the fact that material like this is almost never seen in Hollywood films anymore; 30 years later, a property like Fort Apache, The Bronx is almost solely the realm of television. As with Wolfen, my attention was held throughout and I got quite a kick out of the teaming of veteran Newman and hotshot Wahl, once again making me wish we'd seen more of Wahl after Wiseguy.

This trailer features a great v.o. and on-screen logo announcing Orion's involvement with Wolfen as well as some remarkable footage of decrepit Bronx buildings being demolished:



The classic Vestron logo introduces this Fort Apache, The Bronx trailer that does not appear on the DVD:



Vintage television spot:

"Who Is That Guy?!": Burton Gilliam

Possessing the type of face and persona that went out of fashion in Hollywood as the '70s turned into the '80s, Burton Gilliam's is a name that always piques my interest when I see it in the opening credits. Gilliam built up quite an impressive acting resume for someone who entered the business on a whim in his middle '30s. A character actor whose face I've recognized since I was young kid watching Blazing Saddles and Fletch, Gilliam's familiar mug and "shit-eatin' grin" were a mainstay of '70s-'80s big and small-screen fare, often in good ole boy variations with names like Buck, Jimmy Jack, Jammer, Tex, Smiley, Buford, Ringo, Deke, Delbart, Bud (on 2 occasions), and Virgil.

A champion Golden Gloves boxer while in the Coast Guard, Gilliam mulled turned pro before becoming a firefighter (for 14 years) like his father before him. Based in the Dallas area, it was a newspaper article about the local filming of Peter Bogdanovich's Paper Moon that prompted Gilliam to visit the casting office about extra work on the film. The neophyte performer apparently made quite an impression, as he received a speaking role as a desk clerk with the appropriately hillbillyish moniker of Floyd. Gilliam went onto to appear in a string of small, but memorable character parts in films like At Long Last Love, Farewell, My Lovely, Hearts of the West, Gator, Telefon, and my personal favorite, Thunderbolt & Lightfoot.

Typical of many of the freewheeling, often raunchy (i.e. very politically incorrect) films of that era, Gilliam's Thunderbolt & Lightfoot moment is refreshingly ribald and offbeat. He shows up in the latter part of the film for a single scene with co-lead Clint Eastwood in which he boasts of terrorizing the town's new Western Union security guard. With his best shit-eating grin, Gilliam (credited as "Welder") tells Eastwood--whose face registers something between amusement and disgust--how he once lured the shy, overweight guard (Cliff Emmich credited as "The Fat Man") out of his office.

"I got up to close to 'im, unzipped my pants, and took out my pecker. An, I put that dude right in his hand. He turned white and didn't know whether to hold it, drop it, or run off down the street with it. It was the funniest thing I ever saw in my life."

The supreme satisfaction with which Gilliam tells the story, coupled with Eastwood's reaction shots make this scene a hoot; the scene demonstrates why Gilliam was one of the more memorable character faces of an era very rich in screen characters. It's also the first and only time I've heard a man refer to his organ as "that dude."

Throughout his peak career years in the '70s and '80s, Gilliam made many a guest appearance; in the latter decade, television dominated, as rural-set films were on the wane and country and action television shows like The Dukes of Hazzard and The Fall Guy continued to flourish. Recent credits include a guest role on the Dallas-filmed television series The Good Guys as "Locksmith" and continued work as Dallas-area television pitchman dressed as--what else?--a cowboy. He also manages to keep busy refereeing boxing matches.

A priceless 1980 Carl's Jr. ad with Gilliam:



Burton Gilliam gets a day named after him:

I am Sam

Mark Robson, known to some as "Sam Fuller," talks with his star Lee Marvin on the set of Avalanche Express.

He can now kill you a thousand different ways...

I had no idea the original Mechanic one-sheet was so iconic that the remake producers would ape it so thoroughly for their teaser one-sheet. Man, Arthur Bishop sure has come up with more methods of killing since 1972...

Not the same font, but close.

Joe Don takes direction

"You packin' heat, Joe Don?"

The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Truck Driver

A February 14, 1971 Los Angeles Times production report of Vernon Zimmerman's Deadhead Miles starring Alan Arkin, written by Terrence Malick, and produced by Tony Bill.

Following long haul trucker Arkin across the country, the film features an interesting array of old Hollywood hands including Ida Lupino, George Raft (who starred in classic trucker entry They Drive By Night), and Bruce Bennett. Other familiar faces in the cast are Paul Benedict, Charles Durning, Hector Elizondo, Loretta Swit, Richard Kiel, John Milius, Allan Garfield,Barnard Hughes, and Avery Schreiber.

Originally slated for a 1972 release by Paramount, the film was shelved save for several film festival appearances in the 1970s and '80s, where it was already proclaimed a "missing movie" by programmers and journalists. My copy comes from an A&E broadcast from the late '80s or early '90s.

From an L.A. Times report on the La Jolla Film Festival in 1980,
which included a rare screening of Deadhead Miles.

According to a 1985 L.A. Times article on the Filmex festival that year, of which Deadhead Miles was a part of, the film was deemed "unreleasable" by the studio upon its completion. Perhaps Paramount will license the film to Olive Films who have recently scheduled a wave of previously unseen, on DVD, Paramount titles, many from the late '60s-'70s.

EDIT: The film is now available via Netflix Streaming.

Dealin' in '81-'82

1981 was a little kinder to Avco Embassy than '82, despite the presence of Vice Squad and Time Bandits.

This makes it readily apparent that the end was near for Filmways:

If they'd been able to hold on to some more of these, history might have been a little different:

Quite a banner year that Universal had for itself in '81-'82. Not all of these are classics, but there are only a few duds (The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas stands out in this regard) or completely forgotten films (Green Ice; Evil Under the Sun). Most of the non-classics are cult items today and / or boast notable directors.

I'd say Columbia went 3 for 5 in the Summer of '81: