According to actress Nancy Olson, before filming on the set of SUNSET BLVD. (‘50) in Norma Desmond’s mansion, the cameraman would rub his hands together crushing stone which created dust, then blew the dust on the camera lens, an effect, which encapsulated the ambiance of stagnant corners haunted with memories of the past. One of the most difficult tasks to execute in a retrospective period piece is to precisely immerse an audience. It takes more than vintage vehicles and costumes to fully capture the aura of an era.

Reverting to centuries ago seems an easier feat than reflecting the later years of the 20th century, perhaps because many of us can still attest to it. With most modern-day period pieces, what should be exceptional based on the subject matter alone, unfortunately resembles a costume party. A few feel-good films that readily accomplished this feat of transporting their audience include DAZED AND CONFUSED (‘93), THE SANDLOT (‘93), DETROIT ROCK CITY (‘99) and ROLL BOUNCE (2005). Although some of these films may not be hugely popular, each power-up their flux capacitor, fill the tank with plutonium and hurdle their audiences back in time. 

We don’t know what director/producer/screenwriter and Academy Award-winning Cameron Crowe sprinkled on his camera lens for ALMOST FAMOUS (2000, the film takes place in the ‘70s so take your pick). Still, the film, which celebrated its 20th anniversary in 2020, beams with the spirit of black lights, velvet posters, Don Kirschner’s Rock Concert and The Midnight Special performances. It would only stand to reason, as Crowe is an avid fan of classic film director Billy Wilder, director of SUNSET BLVD. 

Based on Crowe’s true-life experience as a teenage reporter for Rolling Stone magazine, ALMOST FAMOUS mirrored classic film by layering the correct actors, costumes, dialogue, sets and of course an exacting soundtrack. For those of us mature enough to recall the ingrained crackle of a needle against vinyl and the scraping of a lead pencil against paper (all of us know that sound), from the opening credits, Crowe utilizes simple auditory cues and visuals powerful enough to immediately engross his audience until the film’s end.

In his first feature film role, the innocence of Patrick Fugit’s portrayal is perfectly and adorably awkward. When Lester Bangs (Philip Seymour Hoffman) urges William (Fugit) “to be honest and unmerciful,” the look on William’s face reveals a naive boy who is about to be eaten alive. Although not their first roles, the enchanting Kate Hudson and the fresh-faced Zooey Deschanel both shine in their breakout roles, with each demonstrating exceptional performances. And, if you ever had a doubt of which Philip Seymour Hoffman performance to watch, this may be it, or perhaps, every Philip Seymour Hoffman performance is the one to watch. 

Truly, every performance in the film is exceptional. With almost half the cast being newcomers, in theory ALMOST FAMOUS should not have worked as seamlessly as it did, but according to Hudson during a recent ALMOST FAMOUS reunion, its synergy was the result of “…a magical group of people.”

Conjuring indelible memories by adeptly fusing scenes with music, ALMOST FAMOUS leaves a lasting impression on the psyche which had to be a painstaking process since creating such powerful associations means there can only be one exacting fit. If you’ve seen the film, I’d wager that every time you hear Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer,” you recall a sunlit tour bus driving through cornfields with the occupants joining together in an impromptu sing-along, lending an entirely new appreciation for an old song, or if you happen to hear Brenton Wood’s “The Oogum Boogum Song” you recollect William dwarfed by boys supposedly his own age in the throes of puberty grooming themselves in a mirror. When Simon & Garfunkel’s “America” plays, we witness the exact moment a young boy converges with his future while running his fingers over newly discovered album covers as if taking them in by osmosis.

On the surface, ALMOST FAMOUS is about the once-in-a-lifetime adventure of a teenage journalist, but according to Crowe, and quite apparently, it’s an endearing love letter to music. You certainly don’t need to be a fan of ‘70s rock to enjoy ALMOST FAMOUS, you simply need to be a music fan period. Like revisiting an old time capsule, it’s is a film where you can easily lose yourself and even though the majority of us haven’t toured with a rock’n’roll band during the ‘70s, ALMOST FAMOUS captures its journey so succinctly, hitting every note that it’s difficult to convince yourself you weren’t actually there. Billy Wilder would approve.

With his piercing blue eyes, aloof demeanor and natural charisma, it was inevitable that French actor Alain Delon would become an international sensation. The suave French film star became known for playing brooding anti-heroes on both sides of the law. He catapulted to fame in Rene Clement’s PURPLE NOON (’61), the sun-baked drama based on Patricia Highsmith’s celebrated mystery novel. Other plum roles came his way including films such as the art-house darling L’ECLISSE (’62) and acclaimed crime dramas ANY NUMBER CAN WIN (’63), LE SAMOURAI (’67) and BORSALINO (’70).

When Delon got his start, he was a fresh face in a new era of celebrity and filmmaking. Delon’s good looks, fashion sense, his many romantic affairs with some of the most beautiful women in the world and his real-life connections to dangerous gangsters all added to his mystique. In his prime, Delon was a huge box-office star not only in France but throughout Europe. As his celebrity grew, he found fans in Japan, China and Russia. But there was always one market that was missing in Delon’s portfolio: Hollywood.

Hollywood came knocking at the very beginning of Delon’s acting career, even before he was an actor. After a tumultuous upbringing and years of youthful rebellion that culminated with being dishonorably discharged from the French Marines, Delon found himself in Paris where he took numerous odd jobs. It was there he befriended local up-and-coming actors, one of whom invited him to go to the Cannes Film Festival. Henry Wilson, David O. Selznick’s talent scout, spotted Delon there and had him do a screen test in Rome. Selznick offered Delon a contract with the provision that Delon must learn English beforehand. Delon signed the contract but later backed out of it when his actor friends introduced him to French film director Yves Allegret. Allegret became Delon’s mentor, guiding him to develop a natural style of acting telling Delon “don’t act, live!” Delon got his first acting role in WHEN THE WOMAN BUTTS IN (’57) and the rest is history.

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TCM Underground, which shows movies every Friday night at 2am ET, is TCM’s home for odd, obscure and delightful films from outside the mainstream. This month, one of the films TCM Underground will present is THE PYRAMID (‘76), an exceedingly unusual and fascinating film from director Gary Kent. You only have to look at the film’s poster to know exactly what kind of movie you’re about to watch: A woman wearing a shirt with a pyramid on it meditates in front of a larger pyramid, surrounded by a number of captivating taglines: “What does THE PYRAMID have to do with you?”; “For this engagement the theatres have been energized with pyramid power.”; “A positive mystical experience.” The poster promises a wild ride and THE PYRAMID does not disappoint.

The film opens with a sequence that is every bit as bold and surprising as the film itself. We watch as a bus driver and a number of young children start their day. They wake up, eat breakfast and head off to the school bus. Then, just as quickly as we are introduced to these characters, they are suddenly killed in a school bus crash. It is a jaw-dropping opening scene that makes the audience wonder: Did that seriously just happen? Why was this necessary? What am I watching? It’s not integral to the plot, it’s needlessly gruesome, even manipulative. But that’s exactly the point. As we come to realize, this scene is actually a perfect introduction to the issues that the protagonist, Chris Lowe (Charley Brown), faces throughout the film.

Chris is a cameraman for a TV news station, and he arrives at the crash to film a segment about it. The station he works for focuses mainly on shocking tragedies and crime, and he is becoming frustrated about having to work on these stories. This scene is representative of the kind of ugly sensationalism that Chris is used to producing, and the audience, so upset by this scene, comes to empathize with his disillusionment. When considered within this context, the opening sequence is actually quite brilliant. Like the whole film, it is a bit over-the-top and strange, but it ultimately has something thought-provoking to say.

Chris tries to break from the status quo by filming more interesting, hopeful stories. His subjects include a man who walks on fire and believes himself to have healing powers, an astronaut who discusses the possibility of intelligent extraterrestrial life and a man who constructs wooden pyramids that may “have an effect on our consciousness.” While his television station presents the bleakness and brutality of life, Chris looks for stories which suggest that perhaps people can transcend the grim reality and experience something beautiful and mysterious. 

Everyone he works with has a cynical worldview, but his work is reflective of an abnormal optimism. One of these cynical colleagues is Chris’ best friend, reporter LaMoine Peabody aka L.A. Ray (a standout performance by Ira Hawkins). While Chris tries to improve or escape the TV news industry, LaMoine embraces it, becoming more successful and constantly watching himself on TV. As LaMoine becomes more deeply invested in his career and Chris searches for something better, we see their lives diverge: Chris eventually finds peace, but LaMoine’s story ends in tragedy.

There’s a lot to like about THE PYRAMID. It’s a very groovy movie, filled with a lovely 1970s atmosphere. It has a point of view and explores some unique themes that aren’t often depicted on film. It’s sometimes funny, sometimes disturbing, occasionally confusing, but always interesting. But ultimately, the best thing about THE PYRAMID might simply be its unabashed optimism. The message of the film seems to be that, in spite of all its sadness and horror, the world still has the potential to be wonderful and people still have the potential to be good. Is it a naïve message? Maybe. But the film is so beautifully made that this message ends up being quite convincing and uplifting. In troubling times, it can be refreshing to watch a movie where people sit in a wooden pyramid and sing together as the sun goes down.

There’s a scene late in the film where Chris shows his short films to the owner of a movie theater who angrily rejects them because they lack mass appeal, calling them “a waste of time.” TCM Underground is so valuable because it has the exact opposite attitude. It celebrates the weird, the independent, the overlooked. And for those of us who love those movies, THE PYRAMID is a real treat.

The 1970s saw the end of post-WWII prosperity, and New York City was on the eve of a fiscal crisis. Unemployment rates skyrocketed and wealthy New Yorkers fled the city for the suburbs, leaving behind those who couldn’t afford to leave. There was a breakdown of social order with crime at an all-time high. Drugs, prostitution, graffiti, looting, riots and violent crime increased and earned the Big Apple the dubious name “Fear City.” It was clear that New York City was on a downhill trajectory and was bearing the brunt of a troubled economy. 

New York City became fodder for New Hollywood filmmakers. Starting with MIDNIGHT COWBOY (‘69), films like THE FRENCH CONNECTION ('71), KLUTE ('71), MEAN STREETS ('73), THE TAKING OF PELHAM ONE TWO THREE (’74), TAXI DRIVER ('76) and NETWORK ('76) were set against the backdrop of this troubled city. Some of these stories touched upon key issues the city was facing. Let’s take a look at how some of these films depicted 1970s New York City.

ACROSS 110TH STREET ('72) — The 1970s saw the birth of the Blaxploitation genre, which includes New York City-based films like SHAFT ('71) and SUPER FLY ('72). Director Barry Shear’s ACROSS 110TH STREET is an urban crime drama depicting the vicious cycle of drugs and gang violence in Harlem. The title is a reference to the dividing line between Central Park and Harlem that separated white and black neighborhoods. Anthony Quinn plays a racist white cop who must join forces with a black police detective, played by Yaphet Kotto. They team up to investigate the robbery of an illegal Harlem bank run by mobsters on both sides of 110th Street.

THE LANDLORD ('70) — By the late 1960s, Brooklyn was falling victim to the emerging economic slump. There was a movement in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s to gentrify parts of Brooklyn, most notably Prospect Park. In director Hal Ashby’s THE LANDLORD, Beau Bridges plays Elgar, the son of a wealthy white family led by matriarch Mrs. Enders, played by Lee Grant. The rebellious Elgar buys a derelict brownstone in Park Slope. His plan is to clean up the place, kick out the current tenants, mostly poorer blacks who struggle to pay their rent, and attract higher paying tenants. His plans unravel as he starts to bond with the tenants and the community, much to his family’s chagrin.

THE PANIC IN NEEDLE PARK ('71) —Sherman Square, a small concrete island at the intersection of Broadway and 72nd Street named after a Civil War general, was a hotbed of drug activity from the mid-1950s and into the 1970s. It was given the name “Needle Park” in reference to the heroin addicts who frequented the area. Director Jerry Schatzberg’s THE PANIC IN NEEDLE PARK stars Al Pacino, in his first leading role, as Bobby, a heroin addict and drug pusher whose girlfriend Helen (Kitty Winn) gets caught up in his world. The film was shot on location in New York City and includes realistic depictions of heroin abuse. It also depicts the cheap luncheonettes and the sleazy hotels that helped give the area its bad reputation. The movie was based on James Mills’ novel, adapted by Joan Didion and John Gregory Dunne, which evolved from his pictorial essay published in Life magazine in 1965. 

THE PRISONER OF SECOND AVENUE (’75) — With New York City on the brink of bankruptcy, the jobs of service workers, including those in the sanitation industry, were at risk. Sanitation strikes in 1968 and 1975 resulted in a growing number of garbage bags lining city streets and a pervasive stink. In director Melvin Frank’s THE PRISONER OF SECOND AVENUE, Neil Simon’s adaptation of his own play, Jack Lemmon plays Mel Edison, an out-of-work office manager who now finds himself in the middle of a nervous breakdown. He and his wife Edna (Anne Bancroft) live on the Upper East Side and are dealing not only with Mel’s downward spiral but with the heat wave that is driving the smell of garbage up to their 14th floor apartment.

REPORT TO THE COMMISSIONER ('75) —Times Square has evolved over the years and for the most part has been a top tourist attraction for visitors from around the world. However, in the 1970s Time Square was in a bad state. It was teeming with pimps, thieves and drug dealers. It was a hotspot for criminals, and tourists mostly stayed away. In director Milton Katselas’ police procedural REPORT TO THE COMMISSIONER, a new detective on the force, Bo Lockley (Michael Moriarty), is searching for Chicklet, the girlfriend of drug pusher Stick Henderson (Tony King) not knowing she is really an undercover cop (Susan Blakely). The action mostly takes place in the Times Square area, and we see Moriarty and Yaphet Kotto, who plays Bo’s mentor Crunch Blackstone, patrol the area. The film features an epic chase scene with Moriarty and King running on rooftops in Time Square.

THE SUPER COPS ('74) —With the rise of criminal activity in the early 1970s, NYPD officers were tasked with an ever-increasing workload. Many went on strike. During the 1971 NYPD Work Stoppage, officers refused to work and collectively used paid sick leave (the “blue flu”) to protest. In director Gordon Parks’ action comedy THE SUPER COPS, Ron Leibman and David Selby play two new NYPD cops dissatisfied with the traffic detail they’ve been assigned to. They take it upon themselves to go above and beyond their call of duty. Cops were prime to be urban superheroes, taking down criminals and restoring social order. This story was based on two real life NYPD officers who amassed a stockpile of confiscated arms and put many a drug dealer behind bars. Archival footage of the real cops being recognized for their work appears before the opening credits.

In the early 1970s, American cinema was going through a major transformation. The abandonment of the Production Code gave freedom to filmmakers who had previously been restricted by censorship. Directors gained creative control over their films as the studio system declined. European and Asian art cinema was influencing the way that movies were being made around the world. All of these factors resulted in an era of filmmaking that transitioned classic Hollywood into American cinema as we know it today – the New Hollywood era. Directors around this time were making films that were more experimental, that challenged the norms and broke the rules. It was at this time that Martin Scorsese began to emerge as one of the great American auteurs. His films from the early 1970s reflect the creativity of this groundbreaking era, and they infuse genres of classic Hollywood with a modern, realistic style. Two of these films, ALICE DOESN’T LIVE HERE ANYMORE (‘74) and MEAN STREETS (‘73), are on Watch TCM  as part of a Martin Scorsese double feature.

In the brilliant seven-minute opening of MEAN STREETS, we understand that we are entering a new sort of crime film. The gangsters here don’t wear suits or talk like Edward G. Robinson. They’re people like Johnny Boy – an immature, impulsive man who we first see blowing up a mailbox for no ostensible reason; or Charlie – a man searching for meaning in a spiritually bankrupt world. Scorsese shows us these men’s weaknesses and vulnerabilities, though they may try to hide them from themselves and from each other. These complicated characters are unusual for a genre known for its archetypes, but MEAN STREETS was primarily influenced not by classic film noir but by Italian neorealist films, like Fellini’s I Vitelloni (‘53), which is less focused on eventful plot points and instead explores its characters and their everyday lives. With MEAN STREETS and throughout his career, Scorsese moved the crime genre in a new, more interesting direction.

Similarly, ALICE DOESN’T LIVE HERE ANYMORE draws on the traditions of Hollywood melodrama but subverts them with a distinctly modern sensibility. This is epitomized in the opening scene, when we meet the protagonist, Alice, as a young girl. The scene takes place on a wildly artificial set reminiscent of The Wizard of Oz (‘39), but the saccharine atmosphere is undermined by blunt dialogue that would never be heard in a 1930s movie. This scene’s stylistic incongruity mirrors the overarching style of the film: Modern elements are presented within an antiquated context. Part of the brilliance of ALICE DOESN’T LIVE HERE ANYMORE is how, within the framework of the 1950s melodrama genre, Scorsese explores ideas that are completely antithetical to 1950s values.

Though the film, with its shocking turns of events and heightened emotion, is certainly influenced by the melodrama genre, Alice is not at all a typical melodrama protagonist. Like the primary audience of 1950s melodramas, she is a housewife, but she is discontent and dreams of a more meaningful life for herself. When her husband is killed in a car accident, she moves to Arizona to pursue her dream of becoming a singer while raising her son. She ends up working at a diner, where she meets a man named David. She eventually falls in love with David, but this is by no means a glamorous love story. Alice is resistant at first – she’s not a desperate romantic looking for a man, but a skeptical woman who has been hurt before. Scorsese shows us that Alice and David are not perfect people, but that they are two human beings. With ALICE DOESN’T LIVE HERE ANYMORE, Scorsese takes the melodrama genre—which was so often used to portray shallow romances and reinforce postwar gender roles—and instead uses it to tell a nuanced love story with a complex female protagonist.

Recently, Scorsese was criticized for saying that modern superhero movies are “not cinema,” and that they’re more like “theme parks.” Though this may seem like a harsh statement, it’s easy to understand why the director of films like ALICE DOESN’T LIVE HERE ANYMORE and MEAN STREETS doesn’t think much of superhero movies. Scorsese, along with many other directors, revitalized Hollywood by breaking away from the formulas and creating something new. Generally, superhero movies simply serve our desires for what is familiar and comfortable without offering any artistic vision or creativity at its forefront. Many people can make a movie that will be profitable, but very few people can make a movie that will stand the test of time. These two films are just as interesting, smart, funny, heartbreaking and fresh today as they were when they were released over 40 years ago.