Medium Cool
1969
Directed by Haskell Wexler
Written by Haskell Wexler
Cinematography by Haskell Wexler
Music scored by Mike Bloomfield
CAST
Robert Forster – John Cassellis (Kastelas on the sub-titles)
Verna Bloom – Eileen
Peter Bonerz – Gus
Marianna Hill – Ruth
Harold Blankenship- Harold
Charles Geary – Buddy, Harold’s father
Sid McCoy – Frank Baker
Social worker- Marrion Walters
60s Retrospective Series
Release dates: August 1969 in the USA, March 1970 in the UK
I don’t usually start with comments, but note those release dates – it took seven months to obtain a UK release (so it’s a 1970 film for me). Its rating in America is high. Its profile in the UK is lower. IMDB has at least four seriously annotated versions on DVD and blu-ray. The title Medium Cool reverses Marshall McLuhan’s description of TV as a cool medium in Understanding Media (1967). He continued:
Most often the few seconds sandwiched between the hours of viewing – the “commercials” – reflect a truer understanding of the medium. There is simply no time for the narrative form, borrowed from earlier print technology … Critics of television have failed to realize that the motion pictures they are lionizing – such as The Knack, A Hard Day’s Night, What’s New Pussycat … would prove unacceptable as mass audience films if the audience had not been pre-conditioned by television commercials to abrupt zooms, elliptical editing, no story lines, flash cuts.
Marshall McLuhan: The Medium Is The Massage, 1969
Perhaps the senior critic of the era, Roger Ebert, placed Medium Cool as #2 on his list of ‘Best Films of 1969,’ especially excited by the mix of non-fiction footage with a basic fictional romantic story, coupled with its craftmanship in cinematography and editing. (And I suspect he’d read his McLuhan – see his first line).
Five years ago, this film would have been considered incomprehensible to the general movie audience. Now it’s going into a big first-run house, and you don’t hear the Loop exhibitors talking so scornfully about “art films” anymore … “Medium Cool” is finally so important, and absorbing because of the way Wexler weaves all these elements together. He has made an almost perfect example of the new movie. Because we are so aware this is a movie, It seems more relevant and real than the smooth fictional surface of, say “Midnight Cowboy.”
Roger Ebert, 21 September 1969
Michael Billington (my favourite theatre critic) was equally fulsome:
I can’t think of any film that tells you more about the texture of American life today.
Illustrated London News, 1969
Then…
In 1968, (Haskell Wexler) hurled himself into the tear gas of the cultural-political movement. The result was alongside ‘Bonnie and Clyde’ and ‘Easy Rider’ a seminal early work of what came to be known as ‘the New Hollywood’
Blu-ray cover blurb, ‘Masters of Cinema’ series
Ebert also mentions The Graduate, Bullitt, and Easy Rider. Let’s spin some names … Arthur Penn, Faye Dunaway, Warren Beatty, Mike Nichols, Dustin Hoffman, Anne Bancroft, Steve McQueen, Dennis Hopper, Peter Fonda. Then Robert Forster, Verna Bloom and Haskell Wexler. The last three don’t have quite the same ring of fame do they?
Haskell Wexler: With Medium Cool, I did exactly what I wanted to do.
Haskell Wexler certainly represents the auteur theory. Many have written and directed, but he operated the camera too. He was fresh from Director of Photography on The Thomas Crown Affair which is also rated for its innovative camera work. So we have a cinematographer making a film about a cameraman (excuse me if I stay in 1969-speak – camera operator sounds wrong for the era, and is not used in the movie!).
“General Nguyen Ngoc Loan executing a Viet Cong prisoner in Saigon,” won a 1969 Pulitzer for its photographer Eddie Adams.
It chimed with the 1968 / 69 collective. We were beginning to consider the ethics of cameramen in war, especially in Vietnam. The Viet Cong prisoner about to be shot in the head was seen all over the world. So was the Buddhist monk on fire. How can you stand there as an observer, filming quietly, without intervening? Wexler extends that to ordinary life … road accidents, then to political upheaval at the 1968 Democratic Convention in Chicago.
the plot
It starts with a road accident. The camera crew of two are looking down at a woman’s body, sprawled out of a car door the horn is blaring, the sound guy reaches in to stop it … we hear a sighing breath from her. The cameraman (Robert Forster) leans over to get a closer view. More breathing, so we see the sound recordist (Peter Bonerz) turning up his dials to capture the sound. They leave her there and walk away to the camera station wagon 100 yards away. Start putting their gear in the trunk. The first line:
Better call an ambulance.
They get in the car. The sound recordist makes the call:
We got coverage. We’ll send it in with the bike man.
That’s the first call … before they call the ambulance. The credits roll as the bike man picks up the film can and rides through the iconic Chicago streets and (inevitably) under the El.
Then we’re in a party of media people with champagne. It looks hand-held camera. Snatches of conversation about cameras and violent events.
Sound Man: The typewriter doesn’t really care what’s being typed on it.
Woman: But a typewriter’s a machine. You’re not a machine.
Then we see an Illinois National Guard training exercise with people acting as rioters. The cameraman and sound recordist are recording it all.
The National Guard: Rehearsing the revolution
We cut to a Democrat party office. VOTE KENNEDY is one of repeated Robert Kennedy links in the film. They’re interviewing the party volunteers.
Note Robert Kennedy left. One of several repeated images.
There are some kids on a train – they get off to release a far older news medium, a pigeon. (This might be to a touch of Bloomfield soundtrack).
Then the cameraman is striding through a hospital corridor. To visit the victim? No, to pick up his nurse girlfriend. Weird distorted shots of them in the corridor. She suggest going to see a movie. Cut to them at a roller derby instead. He ignored her choice. A jaunty gentle version of Sweet Georgia Brown plays behind violent action and fighting, then suddenly snaps into the real loud aggressive sound of the roller derby with chanting Go! Go! Go! and then we’re in bed with the cameraman and the nurse making love.
That’s just the first few minutes. With no explanation we’re into two kids playing poker in a seedy apartment with a man who’s smoking. We don’t see his face, only his naked back. One kid wanders into the kitchen where Mom (Verna Bloom) is peeling potatoes. She pours two bowls of soup. They say grace.
Then the kid is reading aloud about pigeons pair-bonding for life while the camera is on Mom’s distressed face. Her husband didn’t pair-bond for life.
From her saying Grace, we see a crowd of black demonstrators in a park chanting. Then two pairs of boots in thick mud … John and Gus. It’s Washington DC, a demonstration encampment.
We’re back in a Chicago kitchen. Robert Kennedy is speaking on the radio as kitchen workers impassively carry on. (Remember, it was a hotel kitchen in LA where Robert Kennedy was murdered).
Another America. Top floor of a five star hotel.
Back to our camera team in a car in Washington. John asks Gus if he scored (a woman) last night. Yes. Then they’re filming an interview with a politician in twin set and pearls next to a rooftop pool. She tells them how she takes her vacations in rural Ontario, for the joy of being somewhere “primitive.”
Cut to somewhere else primitive. A social worker climbs the stairs to a run down apartment. The kid answers the door. She asks questions. He’s thirteen. An only child. Dad is “at Vietnam.” Dad’s name is Buddy. He’s from West Virginia.
West Virginia flashback: Buddy (Charles Geary) and Harold (Harold Blankenship)
Cut to a rusted out upside down car in West Virginia. Buddy is teaching the kid to shoot a Jim Beam bottle with a rifle. He has to finish it first.
Then we’re in a parking lot in Chicago. The kid has apparently stolen a basket from the back of the camera car – John thinks it belongs to the girlfriend. John gives chase. The kid drops it. John takes it back and says “It’s all there” assuming it’s the girl’s.
The camera car (at 1 o’clock coming towards the right). Random parking lot? So why is the prevailing image of cars red, white and blue? Nothing much is random in this movie.
Then at his apartment. He’s in bed with the girl. Ruth (Marianna Hill). She talks about seeing Mondo Cane. She thinks it was with him, he thinks he saw it with someone else. Then she’s upset about the scene of turtles on a beach facing an atom bomb test. They all started crawling inland, instead of to the sea, so they died. She wants to know why the cameramen didn’t just turn them round the right way. John dismisses it.
Ruth: Or did they put them in a Jeep and drive them back?
John: How the hell do I know what they did? Those are Italian cameramen.
She opens the basket – the pigeon flies out- the reason the kid stole the basket? Or it was his basket? (It was). They run around the apartment. John gets to keep his underpants on at first. She is of course totally naked. It was ever thus. (Q: How does a woman artist get into an art museum? A: Gets painted in the nude). Then as he whirls her around he is butt-naked too. But as they fall on the bed his pants are mysteriously back in place. She calls him a ‘prick’ and ‘You fuck!’ Movies had changed.
So which picture does John have on his apartment wall, blown up huge? Yes, you’ve guessed.
We cut to John and Gus in the camera car. They’re by the apartment block. There are naked toddlers outside. This is poor territory. John has the basket with the pigeon – it has an address on it (so whose basket was it? Was it the kids’?). No one is in, but then the kid’s mom arrives. In the street, kids are climbing all over the camera car with Gus trying to stop them.
Back in the apartment. Picture of Robert Kennedy on the wall. John asks her if she’s from the mountains. West Virginia, she replies.
John: Just spent three weeks there … (hillbilly accent) We sure starve a lot when the stamps run out. Trouble is, you can’t get no tobaccy with stamps …
Woman: I guess you know about the stamps.
John: No, not really. I did a documentary. Those words were on the tape.
Cut to a yellow cab garage. Gus orders a black guy washing the cabs to stop working. Orders, not ‘asks.’ He doesn’t want noise on his recording. In the office the police are interviewing Frank Baker (Sid McCoy), an African-American cab driver. He found $10,000 in his cab and is turning it in. The police are bullying him. ‘Was there an extra $1000?”
On the roof of the apartment, the mom and kid are by the pigeon loft. I noticed her poor thin frock and the contrast with the glamorous Ruth with ‘big hair.’
Back to John’s boss. John wants to enlarge on the cab driver story.
We’re in the ghetto. I’m aware that we’re cutting between poor whites from the Appalachians and poor African-Americans.
Man in blue to Gus: You ain’t got no right coming here to buy no cigarettes.
They walk towards Frank’s address and stop to buy cigarettes. The local black guys are ultra-aggressive. They don’t want them in their shops.
John and Gus arrive at Frank’s address
In an apartment, Frank’s friends are having a verbal go at him.
Man: Were you acting as a negro or a black man? Because I feel if you were acting as a black man, you would’ve kept the money. If you’re acting as a negro, you turn it in.
Another asks how much guns and ammunition $10,000 could buy. John and Gus arrives. Gus gets pushed around over his pager.
Man: The FBI supplies the best credentials. We know, you know, that one of the best ways for spying on black people is to impersonate TV men.
They suspect he’s a cop.
John gets into an altercation with a black woman actress and her boyfriend. He mistakenly calls her ‘honey’ and ‘dear’ and is accused of being disrespectful. (Well, he is sexist, but having seen him so far it’s because she’s female, not because she’s African-American.) A guy stops the pair as anger builds, and tells John he just saved his life. They all harangue him. A key speech on TV reporting:
Man: When you say you’ve come to do something of human interest, it makes a person wonder whether you’re going to do something of interest to other humans, or whether you consider the person human in whom you’re interested. And you have to understand that too. You can’t just walk in out of your arrogance.
We cut from these black guys talking about guns to white women practising pistol shooting on a range. The manager is being interviewed, stopping mid-way to show a young woman how to hold a pistol.
Manager: There’s been a 46% increase in pistol registration since last year’s riot. We’re getting our business from people who want to protect their families and their homes … if a person has a gun, he has to know how to use it. How he uses it and what he uses it for is a personal right.
Sounds familiar? A camera is a machine. A tape recorder is a machine. A typewriter is a machine … now a gun is a machine.
We cut to the TV station canteen. Someone says that Dede is looking for him. He finds her. This is another key scene.
Dede: He (the boss) just complained about you being out when he needed you, and screwing around shooting stupid interviews.
John: Listen. What the hell is up? Don’t tell me what you think. Just tell me what kind of shit’s flying around.
Dede: Jesus! Let go! (he has grabbed her arm) … Well, for about a year now, the station’s been letting the cops and the FBI study our footage.
John: You’re putting me on. You’re kidding me.
John: What am I? A Fink? How can I go out and cover a story? It’s a wonder more cameras haven’t been smashed. I want to know why nobody told me what’s been going on. Because you can bet your ass, out on the streets, they know!
There’s a reference back there. On the National Guard training exercise, the “enactors” did a mock attack on the cameramen. All this time, the station has been passing news footage … such as kids burning their draft cards … to the police and FBI. John never knew.
Then he opens his letter. He’s been fired.
Cut to a cafe where Gus is commiserating with him. The boy’s mom, Eileen, passes and taps the window. They stroll away together.
Eileen taps the window. Try filming it and getting all those reflections!
Cut to dinner with Eileen and Harold in her apartment. He explains that he’s just been fired.
Eileen: Can you get welfare? I mean, unemployment?
She explains she was a teacher in West Virginia, teaching five grades in one room.
Eileen: See they don’t recognize me as a teacher up here. I mean the education I had down home, isn’t good enough for them; for me to teach, so I can’t … and I wouldn’t want to teach in this neighbourhood.
Harold: They don’t teach you nothing …
Harold talks about school in Chicago, where the kids use rocks and sticks, not fists. John asks him if he uses rocks. No. John explains he was a welterweight boxing champion back in 1958. Harold says they don’t do anything at school in Chicago except watch TV. Any TV. Ironically, McLuhan had said watching the fast-shifting images, any images, WAS an education. I’m sure this speech by Harold was placed to reflect on that.
They talk about the cab driver’s $10,000.
John: There’s only one kind of money a guy would be afraid to claim, and I had some idea there was a connection, between guns … vigilante groups … maybe getting ready for a blowup this summer, you know? Then I got sidetracked, interested, so to speak … my director just told my union local I had taken film without authorisation.
So that’s why he was sacked (though it doesn’t figure that well … most people who watch TV box sets nowadays would assume $10,000 unclaimed in a cab was drug dealing proceeds.)
Harold wants to watch the Beverley Hillbillies (!), but instead there’s a programme on John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy (the last might be a leap forward in time).
Shall we gather by the river? Eileen’s born again baptism.
Flashback to Eileen being baptised in the river, then singing with Harold in an all-white congregation.
We come back to Eileen and John, standing watching the TV. Martin Luther King is speaking … then we realize this is a programme about the assassination in Memphis. Has it just happened? I don’t know. What is important in John’s speech:
John: You see … the media’s got a script now. By the numbers. Flags at half mast. Trips cancelled. Ball games called off. Schools closed. Memorial meetings. Memorial marches. Moments of silence. The widow cries, then she says brave words. More moments of silence. A lot of experts. So they have the nationwide coast-to-coast network special. But when the script has finished, and Tuesday comes around, or Saturday, and National Drain-Off Week is over, everybody pretty much goes back to normal. Normal this. Normal that.
Sounds familiar? Sounds 2020? That speech is intercut with a voice on TV just after John … so he says ‘Flags at half mast’ then the voice on TV says the same. So back to Marshall McLuhan:
It was the funeral of President Kennedy that most strongly proved the power of television to invest an occasion with the character of corporate participation. It involves the entire population in a ritual process.
Marshall McLuhan, The Medium Is The Massage, 1969
It ends with Harold in bed, startled by a clap of thunder.
John jokes that he needn’t worry about her husband charging in. She says simply, ‘Buddy’s dead.’ He heads off into the rain.
We’re at a pigeon race meet – John, Eileen, Harold. Happy, domestic. (Lovely guitar too)
Cut back to West Virginia, where dad is giving Harold instructions on how to be a macho mountain man, based on the extreme end of the theory of Adam’s rib.
Buddy: There’s a lot of things you don’t understand about womenfolks. A man has got to be the boss of his home. There ain’t no two bosses in the family, because it ain’t right. The thing I’m trying to show you – women just don’t understand a man and she belongs to you. You don’t belong to her but she belongs to you You twain become one flesh and that flesh is you. And she belongs to you. There’s a lot of good womenfolks in the world. Don’t you get me wrong … … Like, they want to go out on their own. They want to take over things … but don’t you never let ’em, son. Your home is your castle. I don’t care how bad or where you live or what it is. That’s your castle and that woman was made for you.
The irony is the shack with a chimney behind them. I don’t imagine any of this was filmed in the Appalachians. I see no mountains. IMDB lists ‘Kentucky’ but is not specific. I’d say “a field near Chicago” would do it and that’s fine. Whatever, at a later point the boy mentions that the coal mines closed, though all the scenes look exclusively rural.
Then to the pigeon race again.
John is getting closer to the family. He’s brought Harold to his house. Harold exams his boxing trophy – he tells him to have a shower, then seems to inspect his hair for nits.
He asks him about west Virginia.
Harold: Coal mine shut down, I reckon. We moved to Chicago. He left, and we ain’t seen him since. Just took off. I don’t know.
We cut to the boxing gym, John is working out with a punch bag, Harold is watching.
Then a hotel room. Lots of film equipment around. This guy is offering John work at the convention … a different TV company from out of town. He asks if John can rent a camera to film the convention … and more importantly, the demo. (Then, as now, cameramen often rented equipment – it’s obsolete long before you’ve paid for it otherwise.)
The photography is not the problem on this job, baby, This job is keeping up without being crushed. Or having your clothes torn off. You’ll see the day after tomorrow.
A black maid comes to check the room. She is treated as if invisible.
Then the empty convention hall. John and the new guy checking it out.
We’re in a nightclub with psychedelic oils blobby light show, listening to the Mothers of Invention (another band is miming). It’s all far out. Eileen and John are there. She looks terribly out of place and knows it. She is wearing a yellow dress … important and it stands out from now on. Verna Bloom said the dress was hers and her idea. In fact we saw her early on walking through a shot by the Kennedy rally in the dress. The song lyrics are Frank Zappa at his most cutting.
I’m hippy and I’m trippy. I’m a gypsy on my own
I’ll stay a week & get the crabs & take a bus back home
I’m really just a phony But forgive me ’cause I’m stoned
Every town must have a place, Where phony hippies meet
Psychedelic dungeons. Popping up on every street
Go to San Francisco
Who Needs The Peace Corps? by Frank Zappa, from ‘We’re Only In It For The Money.’
A somewhat odd choice given the sympathy for those at the demo later!
Then John’s kissing her passionately against the wall of the apartment block … she’s asking him not to go any further. This is heavy petting. We see Harold looking through the window.
In the apartment. Her room with single bed and crucifix. There’s a poignancy about all her stuff on the dresser. She goes to look for Harold … his bed’s empty. The bathroom’s empty. The tap’s running. She checks the roof. No.
She gets on a train, and walks round central Chicago at night looking.
We see the demonstrators are beginning to assemble.
Back home, she’s on the phone begging the police to help find her son but they’re tied up with the demo.
Cop: Look lady, we can’t help./ The city’s being invaded. We can’t spare a man.
Harold is with another kid by the bandshell in the park. Morning. They’re messing around. Harold gets on the stage and shouts “I’m Harold Horton” …
Cut straight to the 1968 Democratic Convention hall.
Then we’re intercutting the park and the convention. Eileen is wandering through the middle of the demo, then the middle of the riot as it starts … by riot, this is what is called “a police riot” when the police go wildly out of control and attack peaceful demonstrators. As in Grosvenor Square, London in 1968 too.
Lots of pictures because this is the most visually arresting part of the whole film.
The police order the NBC camera car to leave the scene. No cameras for what is about to ensue. The crowd are chanting Stay with us! and The whole world is watching,
The NBC camera crew are made to leave the scene
The National Guard turn up, note that while British Metropolitan police indeed ran riot at Grosvenor Square, no paramilitary force was involved … paramilitary like the CRS in Paris in May 1968 (clubbing students over the head and throwing them in the river to drown), or the National Guard deployed in Chicago.
Through it all Eileen wanders, searching. Happy Days Are Here Again is the soundtrack, as we see bleeding, injured demonstrators. It’s surreal as she wanders distraught through mayhem. It’s all near the bandshell where we, the viewer, last saw Harold. That ramps up the tension.
(During this, a voice shouts Look out, Haskell, it’s REAL! This was recorded while Haskell was getting real footage of the convention and police riot … and was indeed real and they put it over the footage.)
The National Guard with tear gas
She sees Gus who tells her where John might be … again tanks, National Guard. At the convention Mayor Daley refuses to abandon the state-by-state vote count and control his police “the police state terror” as it is described.
Cut to Harold knocking on the window of the apartment calling for his Mom.
At last Eileen finds John. They run past the military vehicles to a camera car. We see them in the car in tight close up. We hear a radio news broadcast of the demonstration.
Then we hear on the radio that John Cassellis is in critical condition in hospital and the a woman companion, not yet identified was dead on arrival … but we can still see them in the car. Then the tyre bursts, the car hits a tree. A passing car slows to look at the wreck. It looks rusted out, full of rednecks (if we may be judgemental). A guy leans out of the window with a camera, takes a picture, it drives on. I noticed that while older, it’s white with blue trim, like the camera car at the start.
We see a cameraman swivelling a camera to point at us. Looks like Haskell Wexler. The crowd is chanting The whole world is watching.
The end,.
blu-ray
overall
So strange. On first watching, both of us were losing interest by two thirds of the way through, and decided to switch off, and watch again later. The next night we thought of continuing to the end, but decided not to bother.
So I started again from the very beginning to review it, then found myself watching again, with watching whole sections twice or three times. I’ve tried to reproduce the cutting, which goes back to the Marshall McLuhan quote, when he pointed out that the cutting between disparate images on film (and especially adverts) is the true new medium. McLuhan added that it changed the way we think, from being logical, linear, chronological thinkers and viewers to lateral thinkers and viewers, comfortable with sudden unexplained sideways shifts. He reckoned it enlarged our perception.
Why had that first impression had been so negative? And the second so positive? Contemporary critics mentioned that you had to watch it twice. The trouble is an innovation of 1969 (mixing factual and fictional footage) has become the normal so there’s no response to how great and new that was anymore,
So you end up with the dialogue and acting, which is, on the surface, restrained. Robert Forster had a great career as a character actor and eventually got an Oscar, but he doesn’t have that flashy “A list charisma” which far lesser actors may possess … he’s a proper actor, in my terms. Verna Bloom comes across as totally real. Nothing “actressy” about her. She deserved an Oscar. I assume Haskell Wexler wanted those realistic performances from them so as to blend in with real footage, rather than have someone swaggering about looking charismatic.
When I did my first degree in American Studies, I used to complain about the strict chronological approach (a year to get to Fenimore Cooper), and options like 20th Century Poetry, arguing in favour of American Film instead as America’s homegrown natural medium. We went back to visit my university in 2018, and American Film is indeed now an option. This film is, or should be, central to American Film 101.
soundtrack
Michael Bloomfield was Haskell Wexler’s cousin. I can’t see any sign of the soundtrack being released, but 1969 was a problem era for curated soundtracks. Easy Rider was the one that just about beat the issue of rights that year, but even then The Weight was played by The Band in the movie, who foolishly declined to put it on the OST album, where it was replaced by a cover version by Smith. Frank Zappa was especially protective of his work.
Another reason that it wouldn’t be released is that the selections are a long way from mainstream rock tastes. A few touches of Bloomfield & Kooper might have been more appealing than the Mothers of Invention. (I love The Live Adventures of Bloomfield & Kooper). I’d guess that the touches of mountain music around with Eileen and Harold must be Mike Bloomfield playing.
Emotions by Love (from the 1966 LP Love) is the main title theme, and recurs through the movie. I was trying to place it because the Duane Eddy style guitar sounds very spaghetti Western … they were ahead of their time.
Then there are a number of Mothers of Inventions tracks, all written by Frank Zappa. Not that The Mothers appear. In the psychedelic freak out night club sequence, the band on stage is The Litter, but all the songs we hear are the Mothers of Invention.
Oh No (from Weasels Ripped My Flesh, then not yet released, though recorded early 1968)
Who Needs The Peace Corps? (fromWe’re Only In It For The Money)
Mom & Dad (from We’re Only In It For The Money)
The Return of The Son of Monster Magnet (from Freak Out)
Are You Hung Up? (from We’re Only In It For The Money)
Sweet Georgia Brown is the version by Brother Bones.
THE 60s REVISITED REVIEWS …
A Taste of Honey (1961)
Sparrows Can’t Sing (1963)
The Small World of Sammy Lee (1963)
Tom Jones (1963)
The Fast Lady (1963)
A Hard Day’s Night (1964)
Gonks Go Beat (1965)
Cat Ballou (1965)
The Ipcress File (1965)
Darling (1965)
The Knack (1965)
Help! (1965)
Doctor Zhivago (1965)
Morgan – A Suitable Case For Treatment (1966)
Alfie (1966)
Harper (aka The Moving Target) 1966
The Chase (1966)
The Trap (1966)
Georgy Girl (1966)
Fahrenheit 451 (1966)
Nevada Smith (1966)
Modesty Blaise (1966)
The Family Way (1967)
Privilege (1967)
Blow-up (1967)
Accident (1967)
Bonnie and Clyde (1967)
I’ll Never Forget What’s ‘Is Name (1967)
How I Won The War (1967)
Far From The Madding Crowd (1967)
Poor Cow (1967)
Here We Go Round The Mulberry Bush (1968)
The Magus (1968)
If …. (1968)
Girl On A Motorcycle (1968)
The Bofors Gun (1968)
The Devil Rides Out (aka The Devil’s Bride) (1968)
Work Is A Four Letter Word (1968)
The Party (1968)
Petulia (1968)
Barbarella (1968)
The Thomas Crown Affair (1968)
Bullitt (1968)
Deadfall (1968)
The Swimmer (1968)
Theorem (Teorema) (1968)
Medium Cool (1969)
The Magic Christian (1969)
The Rise and Rise of Michael Rimmer (1970)
Little Fauss and Big Halsy (1970)
Performance (1970)
How much was Verna Bloom and Robert Forster paid to act in movie “Medium Cool”?
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