Brian Avery Movies

In 1973, health-food store owner Miles Monroe (Woody Allen) enters the hospital for a routine gall bladder operation. When he expires on the operating table, Miles' sister requests permission to cryogenically freeze her brother's body. After 200 years, Miles is unwrapped by a group of scientists and awakens to a "brave new world" of deadening conformity, ruled with an iron fist by a never-seen leader. Miles is forced to flee for his life when the scientists -- actually a group of revolutionary activists -- are overpowered by the leader's police. He eludes the cops by pretending to be an android, and in this guise is sent to work at the home of Luna (Diane Keaton), a composer of greeting cards who thinks that the world of the future is perfect as it stands. There's more, but why spoil your fun? Sleeper is the most visual of Woody Allen's earlier films, and demonstrated a more pronounced rapport between Allen and his off- and onscreen leading lady Diane Keaton than had previously existed. The Dixieland score is performed by the Preservation Hall Jazz Band. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

After coming across a corpse stuffed in a sack and deposited in a park, Sgt. Ed Brown (Don Galloway) notifies the homicide division. When the cops arrive, the sack is still there--but the corpse is gone. Embarrassed by the taunts of rival cop Larry Muller (Warren Berlinger), Ed dedicates himself to proving that the body really existed, even though Ironside (Raymond Burr) demands that he devote his attention to a kidnapping case. Inevitably, it turns out that both cases share a common link. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

"Just one word: plastic." "Are you here for an affair?" These lines and others became cultural touchstones, as 1960s youth rebellion seeped into the California upper middle-class in Mike Nichols' landmark hit. Mentally adrift the summer after graduating from college, suburbanite Benjamin Braddock (Dustin Hoffman) would rather float in his parents' pool than follow adult advice about his future. But the exhortation of family friend Mr. Robinson (Murray Hamilton) to seize every possible opportunity inspires Ben to accept an offer of sex from icily feline Mrs. Robinson (Anne Bancroft). The affair and the pool are all well and good until Ben is pushed to go out with the Robinsons' daughter Elaine (Katharine Ross) and he falls in love with her. Mrs. Robinson sabotages the relationship and an understandably disgusted Elaine runs back to college. Determined not to let Elaine get away, Ben follows her to school and then disrupts her family-sanctioned wedding. None too happy about her pre-determined destiny, Elaine flees with Ben -- but to what? Directing his second feature film after Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, Nichols matched the story's satire of suffocating middle-class shallowness with an anti-Hollywood style influenced by the then-voguish French New Wave. Using odd angles, jittery editing, and evocative widescreen photography, Nichols welded a hip New Wave style and a generation-gap theme to a fairly traditional screwball comedy script by Buck Henry and Calder Willingham from Charles Webb's novel. Adding to the European art film sensibility, the movie offers an unsettling and ambiguous ending with no firm closure. And rather than Robert Redford, Nichols opted for a less glamorous unknown for the pivotal role of Ben, turning Hoffman into a star and opening the door for unconventional leading men throughout the 1970s. With a pop-song score written by Paul Simon and performed by Simon & Garfunkel bolstering its contemporary appeal, The Graduate opened to rave reviews in December 1967 and surpassed all commercial expectations. It became the top-grossing film of 1968 and was nominated for seven Oscars, including Best Picture, Actor, and Actress, with Nichols winning Best Director. Together with Bonnie and Clyde, it stands as one of the most influential films of the late '60s, as its mordant dissection of the generation gap helped lead the way to the youth-oriented Hollywood artistic "renaissance" of the early '70s. ~ Lucia Bozzola, All Movie Guide

There's a rumor that the MGM executive who thought that Glenn Ford could fill Rudolph Valentino's shoes in the 1962 remake of Valentino's Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse would have been arrested had it been sufficiently proven that he was competent to stand trial. The World War I setting of the original Blasco-Ibanez novel has been updated to World War II, but the basic plot remains the same. A well-to-do Argentinian family, rent asunder by the death of patriarch Lee J. Cobb, scatters to different European countries in the late 1930s. Before expiring, Cobb had warned his nephew Carl Boehm that the latter's allegiance to the Nazis would bring down the wrath of the titular Four Horsemen: War, Conquest, Famine and Death. Ford, Cobb's grandson, has promised to honor his grandfather's memory by thwarting the plans of Boehm. At the cost of his own life, Ford leads allied bombers to Boehm's Normandy headquarters. As unsuited as Glenn Ford was for his role, co-star Ingrid Thulin was even worse: her Swedish accent proved so impenetrable that MGM was obliged to have Angela Lansbury dub Ms. Thulin's voice. A major misfire for director Vincente Minnelli, The Four Horseman of the Apocalypse was an expensive flop, forcing MGM to hope and pray that their upcoming epic How the West Was Won would save the studio's hindquarters (it did). ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide