by Cris Mora-Villa, Contributing Writer
There are thousands of films produced every year from just about every corner of the globe. Whether it be full length features, short films, or documentaries, there is a near endless river of films that have been forged into existence. A great deal of these movies have continued to influence the audience who consume them, as well as to help shape the medium itself. No one will ever have the time to view them all, as the hours upon hours of footage is too extensive to even make a dent in such a notion. But within the seemingly endless maze of films that are ready at the tap of our fingers due to the age of streaming, there are certain pictures which aren’t usually given the light of day they may deserve. And so exists Hidden Gems, where I take a trip to the past and unearth works that are wholly new to me in the hopes that they just may spark an interest in someone who would have never heard about it otherwise, or has put off checking out something intriguing.
On May 9, 2024, revered legend of the film industry, Roger Corman, passed away at the age of 98. For nearly seven decades, Corman worked as a director, actor, and producer in the world of moviemaking. His professional endeavors throughout that period of time stretch far and wide, having amassed over 400 film credits since he began his career in the 1950s. You can find more touching tributes and retrospectives from film journalists, as well as other longstanding peers who had the privilege of collaborating with him at one point. As far as what it is I’ve come to know him for, that would frankly be a limited percentage. But for the small bit that I am can personally attest to, that (as of now) would be primarily self-contained to his work in the mid 1960s to the early 1970s, where he would have a hand in aiding up-and-coming actors and directors on projects in what would at the time be the infancy of their careers. Whether it be giants of immeasurable stature, like Francis Ford Coppola, Jack Nicholson, or Martin Scorsese, Corman certainly had a hand in seeking out remarkable talent at a frequent rate. That roster of filmmakers also includes figures who, while I believe are every bit as talented as the aforementioned trio, are ultimately less renowned to the general public. It’s here where I point towards the central target of this treatise in Peter Bogdanovich.
Like Corman, Bogdanovich himself unfortunately passed away back in 2022. At that time, there were plenty of outlets and other prominent figures who shared testimonials or published think pieces on his career and the subsequent influence he had on the industry. That influence predominantly skews more towards his early years as a filmmaker, which fell simpatico with the dawn of the “New Hollywood.” Foregone names like Scorsese and Coppola are no stranger to that era, as the collapse of the Hays Code gave way to a wave of innovative auteurs who arrived on the grounds of Hollywood with the shared aim of pushing the boundaries of American moviemaking by establishing a new cinematic language. Itself a natural evolution from the studio era that preceded it, the New Hollywood was a bold and radical time for actors and directors aplenty. So it ultimately can’t go overlooked just how indispensable Corman’s role was in that process, and how Bogdanovich was able to stand out from the pack.
Unlike many of his fellow contemporaries, Bogdanovich’s efforts don’t exactly share the same commonly cited characteristics of other movies from that time period. While others veered more towards expressionistic, gritty aesthetics, experimental genre fare, or large scale blockbusters, Bogdanovich held a certain old school flavoring to his directorial features. He wouldn’t be alone in that front, as established directors like John Cassavetes or Sidney Lumet do serve as comparable examples to Bogdanovich in as far as style goes. In their cases, the films they made during that specific period feel like a natural evolution from their previous fruits of labor. Timing would not afford Bogdanovich such a luxury, as he would have to start from scratch. With the help of Roger Corman’s sporadic style of B-movie production, Bogdanovich was permitted the resources to direct any film of his choice, with a few caveats. Those caveats being that Bogdanovich would not go over the provided budget and the film would require the use of one actor at Corman’s request. Bogdanovich would agree to Corman’s terms, and so we arrive at his directorial debut, Targets.
Bogdanovich began his four picture-run of critically lauded or financially successful projects in 1967 with Targets, his debut film. Penned alongside his then wife, Polly Platt, Targets explores two separate narratives which converge in the closing minutes of the film. In one half of the story, we follow aging B-horror actor Byron Orlok (Boris Karloff) as he ponders the value of his place in society after suddenly announcing his retirement. Intercut throughout this plot line, the viewer concurrently follows middle-class family man, Bobby Thompson (Tim O’Kelly), as he embarks on a killing spree throughout the San Fernando Valley. The crime thriller element of this movie does sensibly lean in the favor of the latter storyline, but that’s not to the disservice the merit of Orlok’s section within the film. In as deftly a manner as Bogdanovich is capable of, the two interwoven stories are treated in equal regard, while juxtaposing its broader themes of violence, legacy, and the exploration of a growing counterculture in 1960’s America.
There are many individual components at work that come together in making the final product become what it is. One of which I find to be very interesting is the framing device used within the film, which mirrors its own production. In the movie’s cold open, the viewer is met with a sporadic collection of unused scenes from a different Corman-Karloff production, that being the 1963 gothic horror film, The Terror.Rather than leave that footage unused, Corman encouraged Bogdanovich to make use of it in whichever way he could to alleviate budgetary concerns. From what I could infer, Bogdanovich didn’t seem to think much of The Terror as a standalone work, but it did plant the seed for how to begin the movie with Orlok himself revealed to be watching the movie, only to arrive at the same conclusion as Bogdanovich. With Karloff himself having starred in The Terror, it adds a metatextual element inherently ingrained to his portion of the story. In using that seed as a jumping off point, it allows for the viewer to best understand Orlok and his ensuing motivations for how he navigates his seemingly floundering career. The script smartly utilizes this and does well in maximizing Karloff’s casting all the way up to his last spoken line. Without explicitly stating what that line is, I wouldn’t be overstating just how powerful it is in tying the whole film together.
Targets marked Karloff’s final film in the American studio system, as he passed away in 1969. While that may cast a dark shadow over the picture, it also strengthens the movie’s major takeaways in adding a prescient overtone that would not be felt otherwise. That’s at least the case for his half of the film, as the other half does not share the same struggle in attaining full prescience. This was also the first film I had ever seen Karloff act in. So although I can’t delve in much detail as to what the full breadth of filmography may contribute to this movie, Bogdanovich isn’t quite calling for the audience to do that work themselves. He cleverly makes a point to insert a few tangential bits of outside media in order to lay the foundation of Orlok the actor. The climax of the film takes place at a drive-in movie theater where Orlok is set to make an appearance. Bogdanovich yet again makes use of footage from The Terror, as it is subsequently recontextualized to exist as a newly released movie in the world inhabited by the main characters. Orlok’s past as an accomplished actor is essentially substituted as Karloff’s own.
Another example is of a scene near the middle of the film shows Orlok reminiscing on a previous film of his alongside an up-and-coming director, Sammy Michaels (Bogdanovich). The scene in question comes from The Criminal Code, a movie Orlok warmly recounts as his first important role. Bogdanovich paints such a storied portrait of Orlok’s reverence for what his work once stood for, and in turn what that would mean to Karloff. Without even name checking Karloff’s most notable career role as Frankenstein’s monster in Frankenstein, his presence as a major figure in horror is not just mentioned a bit of lip service. It’s actually a valued piece of the puzzle in fleshing out Orlok’s perspective on what he perceives a monster to be in this modern world.
Surrounding Orlok in the literal sense are two prominent supporting characters: the previously mentioned Michaels and Orlok’s secretary, Jenny (Nancy Hsueh). While Michaels is positioned as a relatively new collaborator of Orlok’s who runs the risk of having his first movie shelved once Orlok announces his retirement, Jenny is seen as a longstanding confidante to Orlok. They’re both with him every step of the way as he grapples with his future, but their inclusion is not just contained to being background players. For one, there’s a certain charm to casting Bogdanovich himself in the role of Michaels. I’d never recognize him from his supporting role on The Sopranos, but seeing a youthful version of Bogdanovich play a version of himself who is also a first-time director feels in line with the makeshift tone of the movie. As a character in his own right, however, Michaels does seek to reassure Orlok that his ability as an actor is far from gone. That possibility weighs as a heavy burden on Orlok, but Michaels is not so convinced, as he insists Orlok take the lead role in his upcoming movie. A role described as completely antithetical to something like The Terror.There is the possibility for light at the end of the tunnel, but Orlok’s too in his own head to fully desire that path. Whereas Michaels is an admirer of Orlok’s skill and respects his half a century of contributions to the cinematic art form, Jenny is more concerned with Orlok the human being. There are no allusions to how long the two have been working together, but their character dynamics are rich with chemistry and are akin to that of a father and daughter. The thought of Orlok retreating back to England by himself is not an idea that sits well with Jenny. For as much support Orlok is afforded by those around him, his defense for wallowing in his state of contemplation can usually be boiled down to the changes seen in society and time itself. On more than one occasion, Orlok cites the tragedies of the times as a depressing regression of what would have inspired him and audiences alike on what was worth being scared by. Life has passed him by, leaving behind a relic from the past whose time is running out. That is what’s at the heart of Orlok’s arc in this film. Keep in mind, however, that this is all designed to be in parallel with the story of Bobby Thompson.
We follow Thompson as we do Orlok, that being over the course of two days. There is an understandable reduction in the backstory we get from Thompson, but this is an intentional decision. In the time we do get to spend with him, there is hardly anything one could describe as the definitive point in Thompson’s story which can offer actual reason for his actions. Clarity is not the mission; quite the opposite, in fact. Take one look at Thompson as he is presented and you might not see the man who would go on to kill 14 people. But do not be mistaken: That man does exist, and he is the example offered by the movie for what Orlok believes to have taken the mantle of “true horror.” The history we get on Thompson goes about as deep as a kiddie pool. Given the time period that is established in the film, it could be plausible that Thompson may have served in the Vietnam War, but this is never stated outright. Instead, the camera quietly observes his home life, as well as his intense fascination with firearms.
One early scene that stands out to me is where we see his proficiency with a rifle as he sets up a makeshift shooting gallery with his father and the two peacefully take turns shooting. There is no other moment prior to Thompson taking aim at civilians that encapsulates his motivations as this. That includes a scene where he vaguely confides with his wife about having some strange thoughts, but his attempts at asking for help are not direct enough to where one would even notice how severe his struggle is. Although there are people in his life that care about him, the support simply isn’t there to stop the inevitable. Thompson can be described as a clean cut, caucasian man in his 20’s, with a loving wife and stable job as an insurance agent. But this is decidedly not the thing in life that brings him purpose. That honor is rather bestowed upon the scope of a sniper rifle and a wave of ammunition to rain fire upon those who he does not know and does not care to know.
In my last column on Polytechnique,which kicked off this series, I discussed in detail the events of a school shooting. Considering that event rests at the center of the plot in that movie, not to mention a reenactment of an actual massacre, I don’t see much reason to go into detail on the shootings here (although they are well directed). Even more so since the violence itself isn’t my major takeaway from Thompson’s story, but rather the context for why it was constructed and what it stands to symbolize today. I made a comment earlier on that alluded to a prescient aftereffect stemming from this section of the film. I didn’t make that claim lightly, as it cannot be left unaddressed. In the conception phase for Thompson as a fictional character, Platt and Bogdanovich looked to the 1966 Tower shooting at the University of Texas. Perhaps this was a roundabout way of channeling their own anxieties of the country at the time, but to speculate much further would not be fair. What that decision did end up resulting in was the creation of a perpetual backdoor to a culture scarily similar to our own. A generous interpretation of what I mean by that is that Targets is a truly timeless film. A differing perspective is that Thompson and people like him have and will always exist to destroy the world around them.
After the movie had wrapped production, gun violence in America would rear its ugly head, as Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy would both be assassinated in the same year. I bring that up because aside from heavily impacting the release of the film, it’s not lost on me that as of writing this very sentence, we are not far removed from a completely separate attempted assassination of a major political figure. When viewing that series of events through the context of this movie, I can’t lie in saying there is something deeply wrong with where we were then, and how things have never really changed since. There may not be a singular solution that can satiate these fears for everyone, but there is one other thing worth remembering before submitting to the doom and gloom of it all. Movies which are embedded with violence as well as violent acts in the real world have long predated my lifetime and will not cease any time soon. Films like Targets, Polytechnique,or Taxi Driver don’t shy away from the realities that have come with the changes of an ever-evolving world, nor do I think they should have to. But be it fictional works of art, or the countless number of manmade atrocities that have occurred throughout history, it is up to one’s own self in deciding how they choose to respond to said act. There are many things in life that cannot be controlled, but how one reacts to the actions of others will always remain in the eye of the beholder. It’s here where I defer back to Orlok and Thompson.
Byron Orlok and Bobby Thompson are two characters with not a lot in common, but they are both positioned as the protagonists of their own stories. That makes a final comparison much more appropriate when looking at the pair, not only for what they share, but how they differ. For me, their biggest similarity is that each character feels lost when we first meet them. Accolades and success no longer work for Orlok. Family and welfare likely never did work for Thompson. The divergence happens pretty quickly from there, but something I have not mentioned up to this point is the lack of score throughout the entirety of the film. There’s something poetic about that choice, as the viewer is often sitting with Orlok and Thompson during moments of contemplation. As far as what their most disparate comparison stands to be, I interpret that to be their moments of respite. In Orlok’s case, his situation is much less life or death as opposed to Thompson’s. It might feel like it is to him at certain points, but he ultimately is left on a somewhat ambiguous note. He is not reaffirmed by the power of cinema by film’s end. The closest he comes to reaching that end is after he agrees to make an appearance at the drive-in theater where he recounts a chilling monologue of a babylonian fable that he would like to share with the audience. In a state of complete apathy, he finds his tranquility in something that he finds incredibly affecting. Thompson’s moment of respite is in a letter he types up the morning of his killing spree. In addressing said letter to who he assumes will be the authorities, he fully understands the situation he is putting himself in. Yet on his mission he goes, prepared to kill whoever crosses his path. That brings up one last comparison to Orlok which in a way, summarizes the entire movie. While footage of The Terror opens the film for the viewer, that’s technically also just the opening for Orlok’s story. The beginning of Thompson’s story is of him aiming the scope of his rifle at an individual on the street.
As far as what impact was left by the movie, the initial reactions to Targets were fairly mixed, largely due to the untimely assassinations from earlier that year. With its scheduled release only a few months after those tragic events, Paramount would scrap any ideas it had as far marketing the movie and pivot towards presenting the film as anti-gun, leading to less than stellar results in terms of box office. That’s a shame, as the movie certainly merited a stronger reception than it received at the time. Time, though, would prove to be on this movie’s side, as it ended up receiving a physical Blu-ray release from the Criterion Collection in 2023. Perhaps Bogdanovich’s pressed for that decision, but I don’t see that as a bad thing. Although the original consensus for Targets would land at a modest failure, he was a truly stellar filmmaker who would bounce back from this supposed misstep by directing three phenomenal movies in the years that followed. The Last Picture Show, What’s Up, Doc?,and Paper Moon are all some of my favorite films ever made, and I would recommend seeking those out as well. And to think, none of them would likely exist in the way that they do without the influence and generosity of Roger Corman, as it all started with Targets. It is a prime example of what I would classify as a hidden gem.
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