The slickest, and possibly the trashiest, film ever made. We got the hair, the voice, the hip-shaking eathquake competitions between Elvis and Ann-Margret.
The gangster/detective thing should be done with a certain finesse, so here’s a message to Hollywood: Next time you attempt this, avoid ruining a good director.
I proclaimed this film my most beloved… and I it still is. This film is an encyclopedia of classic scenes and lines, and it’s just as beautiful to look at.
His films are portraits; walking, talking photos of down-and-outers reaching for a glimpse of what lies over the wall their misery and indifference has erected.
The notorious, always riot-provoking Tunnel Rats graced the stage with their blood, leaving behind the sweet stench of alcohol and a pile of broken mic stands.