Collectible Time: The Traveling Executioner Publicity Pieces

I mentioned to my friend, Mel that I discovered a wonderful, quirky movie on TCM: The Traveling Executioner, headlined by the multifaceted Stacy Keach and costarring Bud Cort (who worked with Keach in Brewster McCloud); M. Emmet Walsh; Graham Jarvis; and the mesmerizing Marianna Hill, who fans will recall from High Plains Drifter; El Condor; The Astral Factor; Messiah of Evil; and the classic Star Trek episode, "Dagger of the Mind". Mel, of course, uncovered a collectible set to mark my fascination with this all-star, gallows-humor gem. 

To give a little further background, The Traveling Executioner takes place in the American South, circa 1918, and gained a wide, theatrical release in '70 but still slipped through the cracks. It's directed/produced by Jack Smight (known for such imaginative contributions as The Illustrated Man, Frankenstein: the True Story and  Damnation Alley) and written by Garrie Bateson (of Rod Serling's Night Gallery and the original Mission: Impossible fame). To boot, the movie is complemented by a catchy, ragtime-ish score by Jerry Goldsmith. In the film, Keach's Jonas Candide (an ex-carny) offers his services to prisons to execute those who've exhausted their time on death's row. Candide, you see, owns an electric chair, which leads him to fall for one of the condemned and as such, dubious and desperate, Frankenstein/bank-heist scams to keep her alive. 

Mel procured a nifty (27" x 41") Traveling Executioner poster reproduction for me, featured at the top of this post (albeit the above is a stock source, if only to grant more clarity for my entry). What's interesting here is that this particular poster features both Keach and Marianna Hill, whereas the prime, distributed poster depicts only the former with his profitable device. 

Mel also located two (11" x 14") lobby-card reproductions for me, as inserted above via stock shots: one of Keach collecting brothel fees from prisoners and the other of Keach and Hill in an amorous, touching-hands moment. Both reproductions are quite crisp and demonstrate the movie's diverse components. 

Along with these precious pieces, Mel gave me a pleasing (8" x 10"), black-and-white, Traveling Executioner/Keach publicity photo.

The Traveling Executioner is a now a favorite of mine, and for having entrenched my favor further, I have dear, generous Mel to thank. You're truly a thoughtful, go-that-extra-mile lady and then some. 

HAPPY 25TH ANNIVERSARY MASK OF THE PHANTASM!!!

On Christmas Day 1993, the first, full-length Batman animated feature occupied theaters. Though it wasn't the financial success of Tim Burton's live-action, Caped Crusader movies, "Batman: Mask of the Phantasm" still made a favorable impression on those who viewed it. Over the years, the film's reputation has only grown, making it one of the most applauded submissions in the Dark Knight's decades-spanning canon.

On November 12, 2018, for one night only, Fathom Events will once more project "Mask of the Phantasm" upon theater screens to mark its 25th anniversary release. 

Written by Alan Burnett, Paul Dini, Martin Pasko and Michael Reaves; and directed by Bruce Timm and Eric Radomski, "Mask of the Phantasm" sprung from the popularity of the WB's "Batman: the Animated Series", though granted greater depth than the show's half-hour slots could generally contribute. The movie remains of particular interest to fans for its origin segments of Batman and the Joker, which hold their own with subsequent, acclaimed retellings.

Like Burton's '89 film, "Mask of the Phantasm" depicts Gotham via symbolic dilapidation, as Batman is accused of a string of mobster murders. Though Joker dominates the backdrop and the film's finale, the actual murderer is a spectral, blade-clubbed vigilante named the Phantasm, who Bruce Wayne comes to discover is an individual near to his heart. The reveal may not be that huge a surprise, but the poignant way in which it's rendered has rarely been matched in any Batman movie, whether animated or live action, not to mention the printed page. 

Shirley Walker's soaring score is on a par with Danny Elfman's memorable orchestrations, and the movie makes effective, extended use of Kevin Conroy's Adam West-esque vocalization, as well as Mark Hamill's Blue Meanie-mimicked Joker. (Dana Delany, who would later enliven Lois Lane on WB's "Superman: the Animated Series", acts as the haunted Andrea Beaumont, with Efrem Zimablist Jr as Alfred Pennyworth; Robert Costanzo as Harvey Bullock; Bob Hastings as Jim Gordon; Hart "Supergirl '84" Bochner as Arthur Reeves; Abe Vigoda as Salvatore Valestra; Dick Miller as Chuckie Sol; and Stacy Keach as both the Phantasm's commanding voice and Beaumont's gangster-tied father, Carl.)

Many believe that "Mask of the Phantasm" would have been as effective via live action. That's understandable, considering the story's engrossing execution. The concept defines the Dark Knight's complex, atmospheric essence, capturing the character's Bob Kane/Bill Finger foundation through the cynical, Neal Adams '70s and those later, pensive phases of Frank Miller and Norm Breyfogle. There's no question that, if any DC animated entry should strike one as good, it's because "Mask of the Phantasm'"s sophisticated influence has, in one way or another, paved the way. 

There's no denying that "Mask of the Phantasm" is and always will be the epitome of what Batman was meant to be, could be and will forever be: an anguished, poetic blueprint that fans, creators and eager idealists continue to relish and revere. 

Revisit "Mask of the Phantasm" when you can, if not on the big screen, then on VHS or disc in the privacy of your home. The movie has more than demonstrated its noteworthy status and if for that reason alone, deserves a revived period of dutiful devotion.