Setembro Negro

On paper, Otto Preminger has assembled quite a decent cast for this, but sadly neither he nor them can make much headway against some really dreadful writing. Peter O'Toole ("Martin") is drafted in to try to rescue five girls kidnapped from the yacht of arms-dealer "Fargeau" (Claude Dauphin) by a PLO cell under the leadership of zealous Brit "Sloat" (Richard Attenborough). The story lurches along with lots of clunky set-piece action scenarios and some terrorists about as menacing as yesterday's milk; the star is well off his game and the film looks as if nobody involved had ever made one before. Even the supporting cast - Raf Vallone, Peter Lawford and an almost unrecognisable Kim Catrall add nothing to the sloppily directed nonsense. At over two hours, it struggles from start to finish to engage - and I'm afraid really is not worth the effort of sitting watching it.

Here is even more evidence of the decline of director Otto Preminger in the 1970's. His penultimate film is egregiously horrific. This suspense thriller lacks both suspense and thrills. The films hackneyed script by Preminger's no talent progeny just barely surpasses the ham-fisted direction that Otto delivers.Perhaps he let his son direct most of this movie too. It certainly looks like the work of a complete amateur. Unlike many of his other failures, which are at least interesting to watch, this film has no redeeming value at all. The first problem is the way the film plods along. At times we just wonder if this story is ever going to get moving. Secondly, all of the somnolent actors look like they are lost and confused. Finally none of the characters we are suppose to be sympathetic towards deserve are sympathy. They seem either banal or puerile. Is it any wonder Mitchum turned down this stinker!

I had heard of this film for years, its reputation of being one of Otto Preminger's worst preceding it in every film reference book I'd encountered. Well, it certainly doesn't disappoint. "Rosebud" looks like a novice director's first effort, not the work of the man who gave us "Carmen Jones" and "The Man With the Golden Arm."

"Rosebud" unfolds awkwardly detailing the kidnapping of 5 millionaire's daughters by a Palestinian terrorist group and the attempts by the parents (among them former New York mayor John Lindsay in his film debut/swansong) to retrieve them without starting a holy war.

As ransom demands are made and we are forced to endure endless footage devoted to kidnap victims being trotted to and fro with bags on their heads, wizened secret agent Peter O'Toole is called in to save the day (Preminger seems to be engaging in a little joke by having the very chalky actor with the legendary booze problem drink milk in one of many pointless scenes).

Much talking and little acting (or action) ensues as we reach a finale that must have appeared idiotic and reactionary in 1975 but seems practically prescient in post-9/11 America.

"Rosebud" is almost alarming in its awfulness. The cluttered international cast is full of professional actors who come off as amateurs, and obvious amateurs coming off like…amateurs (If I'm not mistaken that's Preminger's son, Erik, by Gypsy Rose Lee in the role as a computer wiz. It is Erikwho is responsible for the leaden screenplay). The many clashing accents and laughable performances give the impression that many learned their lines phonetically.

Though the plot is not too bad (just hard to follow motives and motivations) and suffers from a needlessly slow and artless execution, it's the acting that really torpedoes "Rosebud." O'Toole looks like he's about to keel over any minute; as the villain, an Englishman converted to Muslim, Richard Attenborough unthreateningly lisps his way through his role; and as the kidnap victims, Preminger couldn't have assembled a more annoying and untalented group of girls. Were we intentionally supposed to wish for their execution?

Their scenes in their subterranean prison are laugh riots of high school level acting and bad blocking. Rather astounding to see a very young Isabelle Huppert embarrass herself as one of the pluckier debs…though she deserves an Oscar for the stomach churning scene in which she has to seduce and kiss the cadaverous bare chest of O'Toole. "Sex and the City"'s Kim Catrall makes her film debut here and makes clear why it took her over two decades to become a star.

For anyone out there who wishes to actually see this film- if just for the bragging rights to bearing witness to Otto Preminger's decline- here are a few things to look for to add to the fun:

1) The 70's clothes and "Brady Bunch" curly hairdo of the political activist character. 2) In the cat-fight between the kidnap victims; slaps are delivered and heard but never received. 3) The guys in the tennis togs (short shorts) air dropped onto the "Rosebud" 4) John Lindsay…nuff said. 5) The militant boy scouts with the knee-socks and bare chests. 6) Kim Catrall's a capella rendering of Nilsson's "I guess the Lord must be in New York City. 7) O'Toole's battle with the terrorist with the killer corkscrew.

I think this movie gets lot of hate because it was marketed wrong. This is not an "action movie" as they my suggest, but rather a drama with dark comedic elements. First-off I was surprised to see a film by the great Otto Preminger panned like hell by critics and those on IMDb.Anyway,I think this is because people went in expecting a flashy action movie, with Peter O'Tool round-house kicking terrorist.

Moreover, this movie may seem like a pretty lighthearted movie at first(which is the genius of it), but you would find serious socio- political subtexts communicated through dialog and direct/ hidden symbolism (which employ the visual aspect of film).

If there is another movie I could compare this movie to,that would be "The French Connection". However, in my opinion, Preminger's movie if far better.

Topical (for 1975) adaptation of a book by Paul Bonnecarrere and Joan Hemingway concerning five nubile young women from wealthy families kidnapped off their yacht Rosebud by an underground Palestine Liberation organization nicknamed Black September; the kidnappers, centered in Corsica, want retribution for the slaughter of their women and children caused by a Jewish millionaire involved in the illegal smuggling of arms. Peter O'Toole is barely present as a British correspondent (in a dopey hat) adept at mediating sanctions between terrorists and their targets, while the kidnap victims (in and out of their clothes) do the usual griping about their primitive holding conditions and the awful food. This type of globe-trotting espionage drama needed a gripping Bond-ian touch (or perhaps that of Pakula or Pollack). Director Otto Preminger is certainly capable of being in that class--and he hasn't lost his acerbic sense of humor--but he fails to sort out these complicated matters satisfactorily (the film has no sweep, and little sense of geographical placement). It's far from terrible however, and some of Preminger's asides are clever; his actors seem at half-mast, the narrative weakens as the picture progresses, but there's a fine music score by Laurent Petitgirard and interesting locales. The rest of the film's style lacks finesse. ** from ****