That haunting song has been stuck in my head ever since I saw this four-part BBC miniseries. It was a stroke of genius to incorporate this folk tune into the soundtrack (composed by Rob Lane), which sums up the mood and aura of this tragic tale of a young woman wronged so unjustly by two men. Gemma Arterton is wonderful as Tess Durbeyfield, probably Thomas Hardy's most well-loved heroine, exploited by her ignorant parents into claiming noble heritage and discarded by 19th century society. Hans Matheson is Alec Stoke-d'Urberville, the wealthy cad who violates her, unknowingly impregnates her with a child who doesn't survive babyhood and later comes back into her life as a supposedly reformed preacher. Eddie Redmayne is Angel Clare, the seemingly kind-hearted and tolerant parson's son who wins Tess's love but proves to be just as hypocritical as his religious family and his actions bring Tess to despair. As in most Hardy tales, tragedy looms a large shadow over the lives of his characters.

Arterton's Tess is matched perfectly by Matheson's Alec, who is given more depth than any of the earlier film adaptations. The dark and tormented essence gives you the sense how doomed these two characters really are - their actions and words toward each other leads to their downfall. Unfortunately, the same cannot be applied to Redmayne's Angel, who looks befuddled and lost more than half the time. There is a rushed directorial pace in the second installment that hurts the romantic appeal between Tess and Angel, and the love story element seems a bit forced as a result. Because of that, I didn't get the appeal of Angel in this one, or why Tess and her fellow dairymaids were in love with him, or why Tess takes the desperate course of action in order to get him back. Some of the modern dialogue used did take away from the affect of the story, and Redmayne seemed to have a hard time keeping up with Arterton performance-wise. Redmayne redeemed himself somewhat in the final episode but for the most part I was unimpressed with him. However, director David Blair must take some of the criticism, as the hurried scenes to establish the "romance" seemed to skim over the parts of the novel that gave the lovers the attachment to one another that eventually leads Angel to see the error of his ways and beg his wife's forgiveness. I was anticipating Alec's return so much that I found myself not really caring if Angel came back for Tess or not. In sharp contrast, the 1998 A&E/London Weekend Television production had me rooting for Tess and Angel's reunion even though I was aware of the outcome. I was so taken by Angel in that one, whereas here I found nothing in him to be slightly attractive or romantic. I sympathized with Tess completely and neither man deserved her, but at least in the other version and the novel I could see why she loved Angel and longed for him to return to her. I found myself almost rooting for Alec (I never thought I'd say that), because Matheson was so compelling and magnetic and he and Arterton generated such electricity, I couldn't take my eyes off them. Alec's fleeting conversion to Christianity and his sermon in the tent that Tess stumbles upon is foreshadowing of the path these two ill-fated characters will end up on. The moment he lays eyes on her again, his fatal attraction and twisted love for her resurfaces and consumes him, and Tess finds herself increasingly helpless to refuse his help after her father dies and her family is left destitute. Alec's wealth is the only way he can possess her and he is aware of that, but he is willing to get her the only way he can, only to discover that fate does indeed play a vengeful hand. It was also nice to see Tess revisiting her child's grave and placing fresh flowers upon it; her deeply felt sense of loss and rejection by both the church and her village is searingly devastating because it becomes all the more clear that she is victim of both society (in which women had few advantages) and fate. Having said that, Tess and Angel's reunion did not have the emotional impact it should have had, the sex scene was unnecessary, but the Stonehedge sequence was an emotional powerhouse for Arterton, as was the climax of her walking off to her fate with her signature tune heard wistfully in the background. The supporting cast was in top form, and while the cinematography was lovely, it could have emphasized far more considering how important landscape is in Hardy's work, as both the 1998 two part program and Roman Polanski's 1979 film have demonstrated. As a four-part miniseries, it had the opportunity to include more scenes from the novel and insight into character, particularly Angel, which would have helped the plot a great deal. However, it was good to see the mausoleum scene and the ending was heartbreaking and moving, although my tears were for Tess, her sister Liza-Lu, and, dare I say it, even Alec, but I felt nothing for Angel (although Redmayne's tearful breakdown was by far his best moment).

On the whole, this was a very good presentation, my second favorite version and very much worth seeing. Arterton and Matheson give tour-de-force portrayals; it would be great if they would co-star again, some have suggested as Cathy and Heathcliff in "Wuthering Heights" - I could definitely see that. And that song will linger on in your memory long after the final credits have rolled, as will the rest of the score.

Originally a movie made for German television, directed by Wolfgang
Peterson and filmed in 1977, it was later released theatrically in the
US in the mid-eighties after its young star, Nastassja Kinski, had
become well-known. The VHS tape I came upon is poor quality, badly
dubbed (it is so obvious that when the dubbed-in voices are saying
"no", the actors are obviously saying "nein"), but it shows the talent
of young Nastassja, although she is somewhat exploited in some scenes
(sort of par for the course in her early career), in her fresh,
innocent beauty. The plot points have already been discussed in the
reviews above, and in that sense, the film is quite unremarkable. In
fact, it had me thinking of British and Austrailian crime series like
"Halifax F.P." and "Cracker". Apart from Kinski, none of the other
actors are familiar to me, but as I am not well acquainted with German
cinema or television, that is to be expected. It is a curiosity piece
if you're a fan of Nastassja (as I am) or if you have an interest in
German TV or film.

The only novel of Emily Bronte, published a year before her tragically early death, was met with considerable critical scorn upon its publication in 1847, but became successful in the following years, and it remains a masterpiece of literature to this day. The novel's central characters, Cathy and Heathcliff, are the ones that stick foremost in readers' minds, but the book spans two generations, opening with an embittered Heathcliff wrecking havoc on the offspring of himself and his wife, Cathy's daughter, and her brother Hindley's son. It then flashes back to what set it all in motion. Heathcliff is a gypsy boy found abandoned on the Yorkshire moors and is taken in by the Earnshaw family. The daughter Cathy is immediately taken with the mysterious lad, while her brother Hindley openly resents him. Cathy and Heathcliff are inseparable, roaming the moors, seeking adventure in everyday occurances, living their isolated lives in relative tranquility. Their bond, while not incestous techincally because they are not blood relations, is disapproved of :

"She was much too fond of Heathcliff. The greatest punishment we could invent for her was to keep her separate from him, yet, she got chided more than any of us on his account."

When the elder Mr. Earnshaw (who favored Heathcliff) dies, Hindley takes full advantage of this and relagates this "filthy, swearing boy" into a servant and goes out of his way to make Heathcliff's life hell. Cathy meets the weathly Edgar quite by chance after she and Heathcliff stray onto their property: she is attacked by the family dog and they take her in until she heals; she contracts a fever which kills Edgar's parents. When she returns to the Heights, she has been transformed into a lady, upsetting the volatile soulmate that she so dearly loves but does not feel that she can marry. The rejected young man disappears from his beloved's life for some years, returning a very (inexplicabily) wealthy man, returning to wreck havoc on all who have wronged him. Cathy has married Edgar; Hindley has become a gambling drunk. He torments his former love with his courtship and marriage to Edgar's sister Isabella, his dark motives that ultimately drive everyone to misery, Cathy to an obsession that will cost her dearly. Their tender reunion at her deathbed (she is weak, having given birth to her namesake daughter), heartbreaklingly expresses their longing for one another and the negative choices they have made. After her death, Heathcliff becomes even more embittered, depising his effeminate son, Linton, nuturing Hindley's son Harenton in hatred - both young men court young Catherine's affections. Heathcliff remains obsessed with his lost love, hearing her voice calling to him, seeing her apparition out on the moors - the taboo subject of necrophilia is hinted when he digs her up the day after her funeral, and some years later longs to crawl in the coffin with her. When he finally meets his maker, and his ghost joins Cathy's, he has left a very unpleasant memory in the ones who remain; he endeared no one to him with his selfish, cruel and dissolute ways.

Heathcliff is appropriately named; although it is acknowledged in the novel that he is named after an Earnshaw son who died, it serves as both a first and last name -his lack of a personal history, mysterious reserve - he is wild, just like the moors and the heath that grows there; he is unpredictable and volatile, like the wind that rips through the countryside, he drives others often to desperation - both Cathy and Isabella are extreme examples of this - leaving them devastated and inclined to self-destruction, as a cliff overlooking the sea can symbolize. He is almost unknowable in a way, making him almost a blank slate that others can project their own views and desires on. Cathy is self-absorbed in the way of an infant, and her love for him is both mature and childlike - the bond the formed from those early days is in her mind, always:

"My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath . . . . I am Heathcliff - he's always , always in my mind - not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself - but as my own being."

The shifting of narrators can be mildly confusing at times, but the story is powerful and probes into the depths of human psychology, very daring for a novel of its time. Emily Bronte's poetry is also in a class by itself - some of her poems, which she wrote while composing the stories of her imaginary world of Gondal, seem to foreshadow the theme of Wuthering Heights. I recommend strongly the poems, "Remembrance" and "The Prisoner" in particular.

A classic on every level, as long as you can handle dark human depths and romantic tragedy.

Although primarily a showcase for Julia Roberts, who had become Hollywood's latest "IT" girl after "Pretty Woman", this romantic thriller, based on Nancy Price's novel, is watchable and quite suspenseful. It cannot be denied that the book is far superior, as is the case with most film adaptations based on a best-selling novel. The film is obviously aimed at women and the "yuppie" attitude that was still prevalent in the early 1990s. In the book, the abusive husband and wife were middle-class, while in the film Martin Burney (Patrick Bergen) is a wealthy businessman, who places his beautiful wife on a shelf like a trophy, expecting perfection and exploding when she doesn't meet his qualifications. While many may argue the change in their financial status in the movie, it does show that domestic violence can happen at every economic level, in all different walks of life and societies. We are only subjected to one instance where Laura (Roberts) is beaten by her spouse, although his control over her, demands and insensitivity to her feelings has been hinted at, and she does indicate that it was definitely not the first time. The novel goes into far more graphic detail of his offenses. Sara (the names that Roberts assumes are reversed in the book) wears a wig constantly after she escapes to Iowa, while the movie only has Laura wearing a wig as she escapes, and then she has her hair trimmed a little shorter and gets a perm. Not a very effective disguise if you're trying to alter your physical appearance so the bad guy won't recognize you! When she tosses her wedding ring in the toilet and tries unsuccessful to flush it down the drain, Martin finds it after he tears through Laura's personal belongings and cuts himself, he discovers it with no problem - did he not use the toilet in the weeks since Laura's "death"? Faking her demise, since her husband believes that she could not swim (she secretly took lessons at the YWCA, who inadvertently tips psycho hubby off - how did they find him?), she finds an ideal guy, Ben Woodward (Kevin Anderson), the local college drama professor, who embodies the sensitive, artistic dreamboat with such naturalness that you cannot help but like him. He gets her to open up (at least as far as she is capable of doing) and he senses that she is very traumatized, and is there for her when she most needs him. Anderson has rarely been seen since and I wonder what became of him - he certainly had the talent (anyone who can even partially pull off the opening number from "West Side Story" with a garden hose in tow and make it look easy must have something special), and the sequences featuring Van Morrison's Brown-Eyed Girl, and the vintage 60s tune Runaround Sue is actually quite engaging, a break from the intensity of the plot and showing some light-hearted, romantic fun.

Bergin is effective if somewhat hammy in some parts - his character, no doubt, had some kind of undiagnosed obsessive-compulsive disorder, but at times he's a little too wild-eyed, but he does have the charm masking brutality bit down quite good, as many violent offenders are skilled at presenting as a front (how can such a charming, wealthy man be such a monster in private?). Bergin, a latecomer to acting (he was a teacher for children with learning disabilities in his native Ireland), has played may villainous roles, although here it was obvious that the filmmakers were trying to get him to resemble a certain dictator (guess who!). And the fact that he seems to be able to slip in and out of her home (and rearrange her towels and condiments) without her knowing is definitely stretching it, something that Robert De Niro's character in the 1991 remake of "Cape Fear" also seemed to excel at, and Martin seems to have it too easy when tracking down his frail mother-in-law in the nursing home that Laura secretly placed her in after lying to Martin about her mother's fictional passing.

Laura is a terrified woman driven to desperation, who wants to start a new life but she is still living in fear of the man she married, who she fears (and rightly so) will stop at nothing to find her if he discovers that she has escaped him. It's nauseating when he calls her his "princess", which again, seems to indicate that she is more of a possession to him, and I wasn't particularly interested in seeing Martin's backside after he ravishes her to Berlioz's "Symphonie Le Fantasique". The cinematography is breathtaking.

The final showdown, terrifying and voyeuristic (the viewer, of course, is aware of the danger lurking in the shadows far before Laura and Ben are), and it's last resort for this young woman who found that the law could not protect her. Of course, the brief, the bad guy comes back from death momentarily part is ridiculous and clichéd, but when Laura embraces the injured be and the camera pulls back, showing the dead Martin, eyes open, his blood streaked hand, with Laura's gold wedding band just a few inches way, sparkling, is very compelling. The music, by Jerry Goldsmith is great, conveying sadness, terror and romance in equal amounts.

Read the book, watch the film, and draw your own conclusions.

Henry Levin's post-Civil War western, shot in Techincolor, features real-life best friends Glenn Ford and William Holden (both RIP) as former Union officers who find themselves on opposite sides after Owen Devereaux (Ford) becomes town judge, and who begins to abuse his power to punish anyone who opposes him. Del Stewart (Holden) is made town marshal but he sees that his friend is slipping more and more into insanity (which today would be referred to as Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder), brought on by his experiences during the war. Enemy lines are drawn more strongly as Devereaux marries Carolyn (Ellen Drew), with whom Stewart is also in love. As Owen's mind deteriorates and his madness intensifies, the town is thrown into a uproar and his sadistic, murderous tendencies only grow. Of course, there has to be a showdown that only one man can win.

Ford's son has referred to this film as "an oddball production", perhaps because it was a rarity of the time, a psychological western. As offbeat of a role this was for Ford (similar to his Don Jose in "The Loves Of Carmen" of the same year, he sports the same longer hairstyle, but the gray on his temples here doesn't quite give the distinguished effect that was intended), he portrays a tortured, jealous man quite well, never more evident in the scenes paranoia sets in, thinking that his wife loves Del and not him. Ellen Drew is effective in her role, although I find her much easier to believe as Holden's love interest, but after seeing Ford with Rita Hayworth, the chemistry would be hard to compare. Different but compellingly watchable, and interesting to see these lifelong friends on screen together for the second and last time (they previous costarred in "Texas", in 1941), in another worthy addition to the Columbia Classics collection.

Linda Blair, immediately following her triumph in ''The Exorcist'' was cast in this then controversial TV movie. Christine Parker is a young runaway from an abusive home whose parents hand her over to the state. She finds herself in a detention home, where she discovers the even harsher realities of the young girls who reside there - unloved, troubled, and angry, who have the tendency to vent all their aggression onto newcomers. She finds herself as the target of their rage on evening in the shower room, where five of her fellow inmates gang up on her and violate her with a toilet plunger handle. Considered overly graphic at the time of its original airing in 1974, the scene was cut for later airings, but has been restored on DVD. Blair's nipple can be briefly seen for a few moments and that may explain why the scene was cut in subsequent TV broadcasts. As disturbing as it is, the rape is essential to the film's plot and adds to the anguish that Chris and her peers experience. When she has the chance to go home for a brief stay, her abusive father (Richard Jaeckel, magnificent) slaps her and her mother, leading the teen to run away again, taking her right back to where she started. Kim Hunter is effective as the passive, meek mother who endures her husband's insensitivity and mistreatment. Blair went on to give some more great performances in the late 70s, such as another TV movie, "Sarah T: Portrait Of A Teenage Alcoholic" and the theatrical releases "Sweet Hostage", "Summer Of Fear" and "Hell Night". Not long after, she found herself in exploitation flick hell. She is an outstanding actress, giving her all to every project, and it would have been nice if she had found some more mainstream material. Joanna Miles as the compassionate teacher, is the voice of reason and perhaps of caring in a system that does not want to take a bigger step towards actually considering the welfare of these troubled youths. Allyn Ann McLerie, as the well-meaning but ineffectual housemother Lasko, conveys the frustration and defeatist attitude of a woman who keeps things together but can't bring herself to actually make a difference in the lives of her girls. The portrayals of the other adolescents are right on target, a diverse group who all share the same pain, so much so that they become bonded in a hardened, indifferent way. Chris becomes one of the gang, and in a sadly realistic conclusion, has lost sight of any goals or aspirations she may have had to change her life.

Worth viewing, still relevant today.

Lana Wood's tribute to her sister Natalie is a poignant, heart-wrenching and engrossing book that sums up the love/hate, resentment and longing often applied to siblings, but in this case, the older sister was a Hollywood superstar and the little sister was a wallflower continually in her shadow. Their mother, Maria, was an overbearing, fanciful and sometimes downright cold parent who wanted fame and fortune for herself and pushed Natalie into show business, forever relegating her husband and other two daughters into the background, to the point where she considered them virtual non-entities. Lana recounts the years of her family's life in Tinsletown, penning both her love and admiration for her famous sibling as well as her resentment and frustration. Although they had their disputes in later years, their sisterly bond brought them back together, fortunately, before Natalie's tragic death. It amazes me that Lana is still increasingly loyal to her mother, who ignored her and compared her to Natalie, and who inflicted such pain on her children. It can't be easy to have your mother neglect you, your father so distant and an alcoholic, and have to try to measure up to a sister who is a major Hollywood talent. As much as they feuded, Lana clearly loved her sister dearly, a loss that she undoubtly feels to this day. Her estrangment from Natalie's husband Robert Wagner (who seems to delight in slamming her), and her nieces continues to the present, no doubt causing her a great deal of anguish.

"I cry for her often. I expect I always will."

Having heard so much about this book, and having seen the ABC TV movie, "The Mystery Of Natalie Wood" (which was based on this biography), I couldn't refrain from getting a copy and seeing for myself - I have been a fan of Natalie Wood since I was a teenager. Suzanne Finstad did a commendable job, beginning from Wood's ancestral lineage (or as best could be told, since Maria Gurdin was known for misconstruing the facts and fantasizing an aristocratic or gypsy past). The Romanovs and gypsy superstitions reigned in the lives of the Gurdins, which "Mud" inflicted on her appealing second daughter, Natasha. This "Mommie Dearest" lived through this vulnerable child, all the while ignoring her other two girls, Olga and Lana, and relegating her husband Nicholai into the background. This made for tension and domestic violence within the home as little Natasha morphed into "Natalie Wood" a child actress who was her family's breadwinner. All the pressures and phobias took its toll on a frail psyche, with a stage mother from Hell always lurking in the shadows, whispering warnings of dark water, sex, and kidnapping, and never allowing her to be a child, or have playmates her own age. Although she warned Natalie about intimate involvements with unknowns or males of her own age, Mud seems to have had no problem pushing the girl towards powerful Tinseltown personalities to further her career. Even as an adolescent Natalie rebelled, the fears instilled in her scarred her for life, and played a part in many of her relationships, as well as her career. A brutal rape at the hands of a famous actor (who is not named, although it's not too hard to guess his identity, as his family is still very active in the film industry, hint, hint), left her all the more traumatized, and unable to report the crime due to the studio system. Her life had many twists and turns, such as an intense friendship with the ill-fated James Dean, an affair with a middle-aged director, and her marriages to Robert Wagner, which seemed to have much more drama than has ever been publicly acknowledged, and her long-awaited motherhood, only to have her life snuffed out by the element she feared beyond any other - water.

Some of her films are discussed in depth, as well as recalls by friends, coworkers, and her sisters. Robert Wagner refused to meet with Finstad, insisting that a more accurate account of Wood's life was upcoming - the result was "Natalie Wood: A Life" by Gavin Lambert (which, I think, was written as a rebuttal), and I couldn't help but notice that there are less favorable reviews for that biography.

There will probably always be a debate about Natalie's tragic death; there are so many unanswered questions, and until certain parties decide to talk (if ever), the truth may just be carried away with the tide.

Fly free, Natasha.

If you ever find yourself wishing that you could live someone else's life, or thinking that celebrities have an ideal existence, read this book biography of Rita Hayworth. Barbara Leaming meticuliously researched the actress's life, from her traumatic childhood as her father's dance partner and incest victim, her mother's alcoholism, her crippling shyness, and her deep insecurities that affected her relationships, her career, and finally, her tragic descent into alcohol abuse and Alzheimer's disease. She was forever after identified with her signature performance in "Gilda", defining an image that would last a lifetime, and from which she was desperate to escape.

Her choice of husbands often reflected the controlling traits of her father,

and her sad estrangment from her late daughter, Rebecca Welles, are just a few parts of this compelling, poignant biography. As this was before abuse was discussed and therapy was made available, Rita hardly could have been expected to live a demon-free life. Her youngest daughter, Princess Yasmin Khan, continues to raise funds and spread awareness for Alzheimer's research. We can only imagine the pain and anguish that Hayworth's loved ones and friends experienced as her mind deteriorated to the point where she did not recognize them. It would have been nice if the book had expanded upon her relationship with her five-time costar, Glenn Ford (who is only twice mentioned), with whom we now know she shared much more than a friendship. This book is a touching tribute to a woman who appeared to live everyone's fantasy life, surrounded by stars, wealth, power, success and public adulation, but in reality lived a nightmare of pain, abuse, low self-esteem and pathos. Peace and love to the lovely Rita.

William Castle's B thriller is very suspenseful and ideal for dark, late Saturday night viewing. Top-billed Joan Crawford is dressed glamourously throughout, although her character barely makes it half way through the picture. It's also rather obvious that she came directly from "Strait-Jacket", and this would cement her as a camp icon. Of course, you can't help but think, "Mommie Dearest, I promise I'll be good!"

Two teenage girls (Andi Garrett and Sarah Lane) bored on a Saturday night, decide to make prank phone calls (oh, those glory days before caller ID!), and use the interpretive phrase, "I saw what you did - and I know who you are!" Be careful how you dial, girls, because macho psychopath John Ireland has just brutally murdered his young wife (while he was taking a shower, no less - "Psycho" parallels, anyone?), and thinks you saw him do the dastardly deed. And, in good old psycho killer fashion, he will do anything to silence any alleged witnesses.

Although it's unmistakably el cheapo camp, Castle's gimmicky trademark, it's a nail-biting ride, and when it comes down to it, just a
fun scarefest! Don't touch the phone, don't answer the door, don't go off on your own to meet your mystery guy, and don't live out in the middle of nowhere with no place to run!

And don't try to steal Joan's man - she'll be ridding your closet of wire hangers!