Wednesday, May 15, 2024

The List of Adrian Messenger

(This post is part of the It’s In the Name of The Title Blogathon hosted by Reelweegiemidget and Taking Up Room)

The List of Adrian Messenger is one of those Golden Age of Detective Fiction yarns that revolve around gathering clues and solving crimes as if they were puzzles. The plot is a bit convoluted, as it relies on an improbable coincidence or two, but essentially the list in question contains the names of people whose seemingly unrelated accidental deaths Adrian Messenger believes are in truth linked murders. He asks a friend, a retired MI5 agent (George C. Scott) to investigate.

As it turns outs, there’s a killer murdering his way to a royal title and the regal manor that goes with it, wearing several elaborate disguises to hide his identity. “One man who becomes many men,” is how Scott’s character puts it.

The List of Adrian Messenger was George C. Scott’s fourth movie and first as a good guy. He doesn’t have any scenery-chewing scenes as in Patton or The Hospital, but he maintains a reserved conviction and clipped accent that never wavers even when he’s muttering clues to himself. He’s downright Holmesian in his doggedness and attention to the smallest details.

This is a mannered production; all the characters are courteous to a fault, somewhat chilly and distanced, and there’s a climactic fox hunt that ends with a gruesome death by farming machine. Today, the film is probably best remembered for the novelty of casting five of the era’s most recognizable actors – Tony Curtis, Kirk Douglas, Burt Lancaster, Robert Mitchum and Frank Sinatra – each heavily disguised, allowing audiences to guess at just who was playing whom.

In the movie’s epilogue each actor pulled off their prosthetic latex pieces and spirt-gummed hair for five big reveals. But the real revelation was that only Douglas, Mitchum and Curtis appeared in the actual film, with Lancaster and Sinatra just participating in the finale. Uncredited actors played their roles with voices dubbed in by versatile voice actor Paul Frees.

Guess who?

“It wasn’t grand theft, but it was pretty close,” admitted John Huston, the film’s director. But what Huston did cook up was a movie that was winkingly self-referential, a disguised killer lurking among a cast of disguised actors. The List of Adrian Messenger was meta before there was meta.

In a larger sense, this movie, along with The Seven Faces of Dr. Lao (released a year later with Tony Randall hiding behind all seven faces) were among the first to acknowledge the bizarre make-up jobs that are central to each film by giving them prominence on their posters. And maybe in their own way helping trigger an interest in movie special effects that has only grown since.

Not to mention that whenever Rollin Hand (Martin Landau) pulled off yet another latex-face disguise to acknowledge the successful completion of a Mission: Impossible adventure the show was – whether intentionally or not – hearkening back to The List of Adrian Messenger.

This movie is a curio, but one worth checking out.

Monday, May 6, 2024

One of one hundred, 1968

Songs that entered the Billboard Hot 100 at #100 are obviously at a huge disadvantage when it comes to getting airplay and selling records, but a few become unlikely success stories or just have an interesting narrative around them. Here are eight such records from 1968, listed by song title, artist and the date it entered the Hot 100.  

A Tribute to a King – William Bell (4/27/68) Despite the timing and title, this isn’t about Martin Luther King, but Otis Redding. Redding and William Bell both recorded for Stax Records, located several blocks from the Lorraine Motel where King died. Black musicians often stayed there; it’s where Steve Cropper and Eddie Floyd stopped by Wilson Pickett’s room and wrote In the Midnight Hour

Here Comes The Judge – The Magistrates (6/1/68) One of three songs that entered the charts this week with the same title, one of those weird cultural moments that happened when everybody watched the same TV shows. The Magistrates’ record died quickly while Shorty Long’s (also released that week) went to #8. Two weeks later Pigmeat Markham's (who originated the judge routine in the chitlin’ circuit) version came out, which today sounds like the first rap record. 

Soul Meeting – The Soul Clan (7/27/68) The Soul Clan – a name that was probably picked quite purposefully – consisted of perennial soul music contenders Solomon Burke, Don Covay, Joe Tex, Arthur Conley and Ben E. King. They asked Atlantic Records for a $1 million advance, envisioning seed money to buy real estate in black neighborhoods and helping black-owned businesses. Atlantic balked, the idea fizzled out and the group recorded this one single. 

On The Road Again – Canned Heat (8/10/68) In 1968 you could get away with recording country blues against the background of a droning Indian tamboura. Canned Heat had two hit singles and recorded several albums that blended into one boogie-fest that all sounded the same. Thanks to the appearance of lead singer Bob “The Bear” Hite, who looked every bit of that nickname, Canned Heat was featured in the Monterey Pop and Woodstock films. 

Fly Me To The Moon – Bobby Womack (8/17/68) In those endless online debates about who does and doesn’t belong in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, nobody ever brings up Womack – possibly because no one knows he was inducted or what he did to get there. 

Naturally Stoned – The Avant Garde (8/31/68) Fluffy pop written by future conservative radio host and anti-vaxxer Chuck Woolery. 

Lady Madonna – Fats Domino (9/7/68) Fats Domino covers Paul McCartney’s Fats Domino homage. 

Ride My See-Saw – The Moody Blues (10/12/68) Beyond the flutes, mellotrons and drippy poetry/lyrics, The Moody Blues did occasionally know their way around a song that rocked.