St Valentines Day Massacre

With the wealth of biographical attention lavished on Roger Corman over the past decade, it’s become obvious that his “do-more-with-less” approach to filmmaking is based less on circumstances than genetics. Even when blessed with the largest budget of his career and an entire back lot at his disposal, rumor has it Corman brought in his major studio debut – The St. Valentine’s Day Massacre (1967) – under budget and days ahead of schedule. Old habits die hard…just like the unlucky victims in this recreation of the most infamous event of the gangster era.

Using old photos and historical documents as a guide, Corman went out of his way to make the film as accurate as possible, even using a Paul Frees voice-over to introduce each major player as they pop up. While the effort is admirable – and miles away from the director’s usual exploitation story structure – it’s also needlessly complicated. So much so that it’s difficult to keep up with cast of characters since the script seems to give them all equal importance.

It’s a problem that might have been remedied with the casting of Orson Welles: Codman’s original choice for Al Capone. Nixed by the studio as “too difficult,” the role was instead filled by Jason Robards who has the acting chops but lacks the charisma. The film’s real standout is George Segal as Peter Gusenberg, enforcer for Bugs Malone’s North Side Gang. Whether he’s roughing up a bartender, sparring with his latest floozy or just reading the newspaper, the actor does it with the sort of spunk that’s lacking in the rest of the cast.

What The St. Valentine’s Day Massacre lacks in overall appeal it makes up in violence. No one knows how to put butts in the seats better than Corman. And the film has moments that just explode with ferocity he never achieved before. The cleverly designed hit on Capone as a veritable army of vehicles circle a downtown restaurant is technically marvelous and genuinely shocking. In fact, every death is an ugly death. Corman never allows the film to elevate the gangsters beyond the brutal thugs that they are.

Sporting a number of impressive camera moves and elaborate sets, Corman might have felt he peaked with this, arguably his most polished directorial effort (he only shot five “credited” movies after). But one endearing flaw, as the entire camera crew is visible for several seconds in the reflection on a polished sedan, almost seems like his low-budget signature. You can give a man an “A”-picture, but you can’t take the “B”-movie out of the man.

Twilight Time’s 3000-copy limited edition Blu-ray is one of their best visual presentations. Fox’s high-def transfer is virtually flawless, almost like a window onto the studio’s detailed NYC look-alike back lot. Extras include an isolated score track, theatrical trailer and series of vintage Fox Movie tone News snippets that highlight Capone’s conviction and transfer to an Atlanta-area prison. A short interview with Roger Corman is also a welcome addition, but only whets one’s appetite for a more comprehensive commentary from the director.