friends, Romans, kung fu men

From BitterAndrew's Comprehensive Guide to Films That Don't Exist, But Should:

Chop-socky goes classical when a busboy at Rome's Gardenius Szechuanium restauant gets entangled in a plot to assassinate Julius Caesar. The chemistry between the two leads is remarkable, and their different styles of acting complement each other perfectly. Lee's martial arts expertise is on fine display, but even more surprising is the septugenarian Gielgud's ability to deliver a succession of roundhouse kicks without so much as rumpling his toga. It made me wish that he had taken a similar approach with the character of King Louis VII in Becket.

A recut version of the film ran in foreign markets under the title of Appian Way of the Open Palm. Keep your eyes open for a cameo appearance by Jim Kelly (playing the gladiator Blackus Beltus Jononicus). Three stars.

Jack Parnell & His Orchestra - Enter the Dragon (from The Sound Gallery Vol. 2, 1996) - I posted the Lalo Schifrin original version of the classic theme song last spring. Today we have Jack Parnell's no-holds-barred interpretation for those of you who don't mind mixing a little modness into their martial arts enjoyment.

Berto Pisano and Jacques Chaurmont - Kill Them All! (from Beat at Cinecitta Vol. 3, 1999) - This wonderfully-titled track originally appeared on the soundtrack to the exclamatory 1971 Euro-thriller, Kill! and it has that certain Mod Squad/"Gamesters of Triskelion" vibe suitable for all your retro fight and chase sequence needs.

I’m the friendly stranger in the black sedan

Caesar: Who is it in the press that calls on me? I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music, Cry "Caesar"! Speak, Caesar is turn'd to hear.

Soothsayer: Beware the Ides of March.

--William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar (I, ii)

Such an excellent play, Julius Caesar. Its central theme of noble intentions begetting unforeseen consequences remains as relevant today as it did in the 16th century. If only the unfortunate dictator had the presence of mid to pay heed to the crazed ramblings of a random street person. He might not have ended up the victim of a savage game of “perforate the Pontifex Maximus” on this day in 44 BC.

Back in the early 1990’s, when my punk fashion sense was at its apex, I was walking through Downtown Crossing and passed a homeless man sleeping on the corner of Washington Street. He had a mangy-looking mutt with him, tied to a lamppost, and when I passed by, the dog started barking and growling ferociously at me. The homeless man sat up, pointed at me, and said “Animals and children know him for what he really is.” I’m really not sure what that was supposed to augur, though I’ve been on guard ever since.

If iambic pentameter and Roman political intrigue aren’t your cup of tea, there’s always the farcical tragedy of Cesar Romero, in which a suave, not-so-secretly gay leading man becomes most remembered for covering his trademark mustache in white pancake makeup and acting circles around Adam West while wearing a positively moddish purple and green suit. Like Julius Caesar, it is a story of great relevance, having played a vital part in defining how the world at large views superheroes and comic books for over four decades now.

‘tis a much kinder fate than being stabbed in the gut by a close friend, though many fictional atrocities have been perpetrated in the name of extinguishing that genre's association with goofy disposable entertainment.

The Ides of March – Vehicle (from Vehicle, 1970) – Big, brassy early 70’s soul-tinged rock – another genre in need of a present day revival. The guitarist/vocalist went on to form Survivor, but why hold a grudge?

The Brian Setzer Orchestra – Mack the Knife (from Vavoom! 2000) – The English language “swinging” version of Brecht and Wiell’s “Die Moritat von Mackie Messer” from The Threepenny Opera. The most famous version was recorded by pop star Bobby Darin, who oddly enough died under the knife (scalpel, actually) in an operating room in 1973.

The Swingers – Practical Joker (from Practical Jokers, 1979) – Formed by ex-Split Enz member Phill Judd and two former members of the Suburban Reptiles, The Swingers played tight, hooky, yet often eccentric New Wave pop. “Counting the Beat” was probably their finest moment, although the rest of their material is consistently enjoyable. The band starred, alongside Australian singer Jo Kennedy, in the 1982 movie Starstruck, which will be the subject of a future post (when I finally get around to digitally converting the out-of-print soundtrack album from the original vinyl).