Category Archives: Sal Mineo

Who Killed Teddy Bear?-1965

Who Killed Teddy Bear? -1965

Director Joseph Cates

Starring Sal Mineo, Juliet Prowse, Elaine Stritch

Scott’s Review #1,526

Reviewed April 5, 2026

Grade: A-

Enshrouded with groovy, almost psychedelic camera shots and black-and-white filming, Who Killed Teddy Bear? (1965) has tremendous style and cinematic creativity.

The film also shows the seedy nature of 1960s New York City, a time when crime increased, and the once culturally and artistically safe haven was suddenly shrouded in filth and danger.

This sets the stage for a film about stalking, menacing, and murder.

Frequent exterior shots of Manhattan, including 42nd Street, Central Park, and Times Square, make it feel relevant and alive. I’m glad these were incorporated over solely studio sets.

Additionally, taboo subjects like lesbianism, pornography, and incest are explored, enhancing a stark direction in cinema from the wholesome 1950s to the edgy 1960s, to the intensity of the 1970s, when the envelope in filmmaking was gloriously pushed and pushed.

Combined with the experimental visuals, the film is a measured success.

The overall story, though, disappoints due to ambiguous motivations and an unsatisfying conclusion.  Right off the bat, the cover art essentially gives away the film’s predator, which the film sets up as a whodunit of sorts.

Nonetheless, thanks to its daring, I rank Who Killed Teddy Bear? as a compelling, impressive effort despite some reservations about the writing.

The film follows Norah Dain (Juliet Prowse), a nightclub disc jockey and aspiring actress living alone in a sublet apartment in Manhattan. Norah begins to receive a series of obscene phone calls from someone who seems to be watching her every day.

She also finds a decapitated teddy bear in her apartment.

Suspects like police detective, Dave Madden (Jan Murray), whose own wife was raped and murdered, and takes a personal interest in Norah and her case, and a waiter at the nightclub, Lawrence Sherman (Sal Mineo),  who lives with and cares for his nineteen-year-old sister Edie (Margot Bennnett), who has a brain injury and has the mind of a child, are introduced.

Of course, we know from the very first scene that the stalker is a man, but we don’t know his motivations or why he targets Norah in particular.

Does he have a mental illness, merely obsessed with a pretty girl, or are his reasons more personal? What does the teddy bear have to do with anything?

In an opening scene, and what could have been influenced by Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte (1964), a young girl falls down the stairs, clutching a teddy bear that she ultimately drops.

Is the stalker out for revenge for a past wrongdoing, and what does Norah have to do with that? How does Marian Freeman (Elaine Stritch), the older, experienced manager of the nightclub who takes a personal interest in Norah, fit into the puzzle?

Mineo gives an impressive performance right alongside Prowse, and his character is the most interesting to dissect once the film concludes. Nearly rivaling his performance in Rebel Without a Cause (1955), his character is flawed, ruined, and emotionally scarred, and we yearn to know more about him.

Sadly, there is more left to learn.

Prowse deserves praise for carrying the film and exuding cautious rebellion and a thirst for life. Norah refuses to cower in her apartment; instead, she lives her life, yearning for freedom in the big city, and Prowse captures this wonderfully.

Aspects of Peeping Tom (1960) and Psycho (1960) regarding voyeurism and ‘mommy issues’ can be seen in Who Killed Teddy Bear? and in the yet-to-come Black Christmas (1974), which may have been influenced by the film.

I can’t find much about director Joseph Cates, but he has a masterful cutting-edge technique.

Considering the multitude of taboos and perversions the film explores, that almost no films were doing is to be celebrated. Who Killed Teddy Bear? (1965) is a messy, sometimes uneven film, but rocks the boat in all the best ways.

Rebel Without a Cause-1955

Rebel Without a Cause-1955

Director Nicholas Ray

Starring James Dean, Natalie Wood

Top 250 Films #112

Scott’s Review #885

Reviewed April 14, 2019

Grade: A

Rebel Without a Cause (1955) is usually most associated with being the best-remembered film of star James Dean’s short-lived career. East of Eden (1955) and Giant (1956) are his other notable films in a much too brief time.

With Rebel Without a Cause, Dean and underappreciated director Nicholas Ray crafted a story about teenage angst and rebellion that has brilliant authenticity and was the first of its kind to influence countless other films.

In Los Angeles, three teenagers meet and commiserate at the juvenile section of the police station, revealing their respective crimes. Jim Stark (Dean) has been brought in for drunkenness and meets John “Plato” Crawford (Sal Mineo), who was brought in for killing a litter of puppies, and Judy (Natalie Wood), who was brought in for curfew violation.

All three suffer from problems at home and confide in one another. Their most profound revelations connect them and bond them for life.

To complicate matters, Jim is a new student and must endure challenges associated with this, in addition to his troubled home life. His main rival is Buzz Gunderson (Corey Allen), who challenges Jim to a knife fight and, finally, a deadly “Chickie Run” game.

This leads to Buzz’s death, which infuriates his gang, who mistakenly assume that Jim ratted them off to the cops. This puts a target on Jim’s back as he slowly falls in love with Judy and develops a deep friendship with Sal, who idolizes him.

One key to the success of Rebel Without a Cause is in the casting. Dean, rebellious in real life and the roles he portrayed, chews up each scene he appears in.

The famous scene in which Jim quarrels with his father (Jim Backus) results in a bombastic emotional unraveling and an exclamation of “You’re tearing me apart!” as his blind-sided parents bicker with one another over how best to handle the situation.

Dean is a pivotal reason for the film’s success and landmark status.

Wood infuses her character, Judy, with poignancy and a calm demeanor. Judy is a good kid who behaves wildly out of frustration over her inability to communicate with her deliberately distant father (William Hopper).

Finally, Plato (Mineo), who is so sensitive that he threatens to break apart at the seams, has taken to killing puppies as a desperate cry for attention from his wealthy, always absent parents.

Wood and Mineo support the film in brilliant form.

Jim and Judy are likable as a pair from opposite sides of the tracks, another influential aspect of the film that became commonplace in oodles of entertainment genres over the years.

Good Girl meets Bad Boy is dangerous, tender, and filled with story possibilities.

It is implied that Plato is in love with Jim, but in 1955, films were meticulous about pushing the envelope much further than an implication when it came to homosexuality. Rumors ran rampant that Dean and director Ray had a torrid love affair off-screen.

Another positive is that the film is told within twenty-four hours, providing excellent pacing and an action-packed emotional punch. The best scenes occur at night, especially the deadly car race, and the fantastic conclusion takes place in the old deserted mansion that the trio of friends claim as their sanctuary.

The tragic final ending is sure to result in the shedding of a tear or two by anyone who watches and is entranced by the decisive finality of the event.

Watching the film in the present day, one must appreciate the enormous influence that Rebel Without a Cause has achieved.

Some classics that succeeded Rebel and stand out on their own include American Graffiti (1973), The Breakfast Club (1985), and even West Side Story (1961), which also starred Natalie Wood. Each is riddled with teenage angst, hormones, and elevated emotions, and all contain a seriousness and a depth all their own.

Rebel Without a Cause (1955) is a film that should be viewed and viewed again for more than the prominent and impressive story it tells.

The film is directed well and speaks to a generation of unruly and angry teenagers, giving them a much-needed voice. It is fraught with emotion and balance for current and future generations of teenagers to learn from.

Oscar Nominations: Best Motion Picture Story, Best Supporting Actor-Sal Mineo, Best Supporting Actress-Natalie Wood

Giant-1956

Giant-1956

Director George Stevens

Starring Rock Hudson, Elizabeth Taylor, James Dean

Top 250 Films #235

Scott’s Review #898

Reviewed May 14, 2019

Grade: A

Giant (1956) is a sweeping epic firmly ensconced in both the Western genre and the dramatic field of play. The film is a flawless Hollywood production featuring three of the most recognizable stars of the time and a slew of powerful supporting actors offering rich performances and good characterizations.

The thunderous melodrama plays out over decades with the dry and dusty locale and the superb cinematography, among the finest aspects of the film experience.

Dashing and wealthy Texas rancher Jordan Bick Benedict Jr. (Rock Hudson) falls in love with and marries socialite Leslie Lynnton (Elizabeth Taylor) after a whirlwind romance in Maryland.

The pair begin their married life on Bick’s immaculate Texas ranch, but not before two central figures thwart their happiness. Jett Rink (James Dean) falls obsessively in love with Leslie while Bick’s sister, Luz Benedict (Mercedes McCambridge) despises Leslie, taking out her vengeance on Leslie’s horse.

The trials and tribulations continue as the characters age through the years.

The trifecta of talents Taylor, Hudson, and Dean make Giant the ultimate in treats as one fawn over the good looks of each (or all!) over the long three hours and eleven minutes of illustrious screen time.

Making for more powerful poignancy is that the film is Dean’s final appearance on-screen before his tragic death in a car accident, his death occurring before it was even released to the public.

Dean plays Jett to the hilt as a surly ranch hand, jealous of Bick’s riches and wanting to take Bick’s woman for himself. Jett is an unsympathetic character and the one I find the most interesting. Decades-long rivals, Jett and Bick’s lives overlap continuously as Jett finally becomes rich and dates Bick and Leslie’s daughter, much to their chagrin.

Jett is a racist, which was common in the early to mid-1900s, especially in southwestern Texas. Sadly, he never finds happiness, which is the central part of his depth.

The screenplay is peppered with meaningful and relevant social issues that provide sophistication and a humanistic approach. The film inches towards a liberal slant as the plot progresses, the most famous example occurring in the final act as Benedict’s stop at a roadside diner with a racist sign, implying the restaurant will not serve Mexicans.

Bick takes a dramatic stance and shows heart as his family, now multi-racial, needs his help. Culminating in a fight, the scene reveals the enduring love that Bick and Leslie share for one another.

Criticisms of the films’ enormous length and scope are wrong as these aspects deepen and the components I find the most appealing.

Director George Stevens never rushes through a scene or makes superfluous edits to limit running time. Instead, he allows each scene to marinate and graze like real life. Lengthy scenes play out with honest conversations and slow build-up, allowing the characters’ opinions and motivations to take shape slowly.

On the surface, a drama and western, the film can be peeled back like an onion to reveal deeper nuances. The racism, love story, and class structure ideals are mesmerizing, especially given the true-to-life humanitarian that Taylor was.

One can sit back and revel in the knowledge that she must have been enjoying the rich character.

Along with great epics like Gone with the Wind (1939), Lawrence of Arabia (1963), and The Godfather (1972) sits a film that is rarely mentioned with the other stalwarts, and that is a shame. With magnificent shot after shot of the vast Texas land and with enough gorgeous stars to rival the landscape, Giant (1956) is a must-see.

A Western soap opera with terrific writing, rife with racism, prosperity, and fortitude, the film deserves more praise than it’s given.

Oscar Nominations: 1 win-Best Motion Picture, Best Director-George Stevens (won), Best Actor-James Dean, Rock Hudson, Best Supporting Actress-Mercedes McCambridge, Best Screenplay-Adapted, Best Music Score of a Dramatic or Comedy Picture, Best Art Direction-Color, Best Costume Design-Color, Best Film Editing

Exodus-1960

Exodus-1960

Director Otto Preminger

Starring Paul Newman, Eva Marie Saint

Scott’s Review #1,005

Reviewed March 30, 2020

Grade: A-

Creating a monumental epic about the modern state of Israel, director Otto Preminger’s vast project Exodus (1960) is a bold adaptation of the Leon Uris novel from 1958.

Starring stars of the day for added Hollywood spice and a romantic element, the result is a sprawling war drama with robust proportions and a hefty running time.

The film sometimes lags or even drags, but the message’s enormous importance and influence on stimulating Zionism should never be forgotten.

With the treacherous World War II barely in the rear-view mirror, Israeli resistance fighter, Ari Ben Canaan (Paul Newman), attempts to bring six hundred European Jewish Holocaust survivors from British-blockaded Cyprus into newly developed Palestine.

At the camp, he meets Kitty Fremont (Eva Marie Saint), an American volunteer nurse. The pair teams up with others to attempt to liberate the survivors.

The action eventually switches to Palestine, where other characters and motives come into play in a complex story. During this time, opposition to the partition of Palestine into Arab and Jewish states was heating up, leading to tension, bombs, and death among similar types of people.

Central to the main plot is a young love story involving spirited Dov Landau (Sal Mineo), a radical Zionist resistance group member, and Karen Hansen Clement (Jill Haworth), a young Danish-Jewish girl searching for the father from whom she was separated during the war.

Exodus has so much story going on and multiple plots to follow.

Besides the tense story, the main draw is the two love stories told amid the political turmoil.

Newman and Saint have marginal chemistry; he is an eye candy who electrifies the screen, and she seems too old for him and does not photograph well. Kitty, a widow, hedges on her romantic feelings for Ari, but they ultimately unite.

A gorgeous sequence occurs when the two share a delicious meal of fish and martinis amid a rooftop restaurant overlooking the dazzling landscape. She later dines with his parents and his mother, a classic Jewish mother who, in stereotypical fashion, cooks and fusses.

The fresh-faced pairing of Dov and Karen is reminiscent of Tony and Maria from West Side Story. Doomed from the start, the youngsters are opposites in many ways: hot-headed, sensible, and resilient. He is bronze and swarthy; she is blonde and blue-eyed.

I fell in love with the couple more than Ari and Kitty and rooted for their happily-ever-after moment, which sadly never occurred.

At nearly four hours, the film is best watched in segments, perhaps even four, to let the action marinate overnight. The sweeping cinematic photography and the lush exterior sequences aid the complex drama.

A drawback was not seeing the film on the big screen, which was almost a must in hindsight and limited by the DVD quality over Blu-Ray.

Nonetheless, the film is delicious in nearly every way. When tedium is about to occur, an event snaps the viewer back to immediate attention.

A notable fun fact is that Preminger boldly hired blacklisted screenwriter Dalton Trumbo, on the dreaded Hollywood blacklist for over a decade for communist leanings, to write the script.

Together with Spartacus (1960), made the same year, Exodus is credited with ending the practice of Blacklisting in the motion picture industry. The importance of what is written on the blank page is arguably surpassed by the man who wrote those pages.

Exodus (1960) nearly rivals the epic of all epics, Lawrence of Arabia (1962), in its cinematography of exotic and sacred landscapes in daring and forbidding lands.

Perhaps twenty minutes could be carved out when the action loses momentum. Still, with great direction, a top-tier cast, and a history lesson in the harshness of war and generations of conflict, the film resonates with the realism of the subject matter.

Oscar Nominations: 1 win-Best Supporting Actor-Sal Mineo, Best Music Score of a Dramatic or Comedy Picture (won), Best Cinematography, Color