A hard but mediocre cop is assigned to escort a prostitute into custody from Las Vegas to Phoenix, so that she can testify in a mob trial. But a lot of people are literally betting that they won't make it into town alive.
Breezy is a teen-aged hippy with a big heart. After taking a ride with a man who only wants her for sex, Breezy manages to escape. She runs to hide on a secluded property where stands the ... See full summary »
The world famous movie director John Wilson has gone to Africa to make his next movie. He is an obstinate, contrary director who'd rather hunt elephants than takes care of his crew or movie. He has become obsessed with one particular elephant and cares for nothing else. Written by
The name of the steamboat was "The African Trader", replacing the name of its source movie vessel, The African Queen (1951). The Warner Brothers studio wanted Clint Eastwood to film the scene with the steamboat "The African Trader" in the studio. But Eastwood resisted and shot the sequence as an exterior down real life rapids and steering and piloting the vessel himself. See more »
When John Wilson is talking to Pete Verrill over breakfast he refers to him as 'Jeff', Jeff Fahey being the real name of the actor. See more »
Wake me up if we crash into the mountain. I wouldn't want to miss that.
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could have been a fascinating study of Hollywood hubris
Clint Eastwood's caricature of legendary moviemaker John Huston marked a change of pace at the time from the Malpaso Man's usual shoot-'em-ups. But because this semi-fictional account of Huston's elephant safari during the filming of 'The African Queen' is so thinly disguised, all the coy name changes (Eastwood is "John Wilson") and character imitations seem pointless. The actor-director mimics Huston's distinctive voice and mannerisms with refreshing, unflattering candor, but is too relaxed to accurately capture the older filmmaker's irresponsible iconoclasm (when faced with a charging wild elephant one almost expects him to mutter, "...go ahead, jumbo, make my day.") It could have been a fascinating character study of silver screen illusions and obsessions, but too much of the film is marred by Eastwood's pedestrian direction (POV shots from a monkey?) and by Pete Viertel's self-promoting autobiographical screenplay, presenting himself (as 'The African Queen' co-writer "Pete Verrill") in a too transparently flattering portrait: honest, handsome, and (of course) a "brilliant" artist.
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