Monday, Jan
DEADLIER THAN THE MALE (1967)
In the 60s, thanks to James Bond, secret agents were all the rage in the movies, and studios were searching for actors and characters who could fuel film franchises--Dean Martin as Matt Helm, James Coburn as Derek Flint, Monica Vitti as Modesty Blaise. This film drags the British character of Bulldog Drummond into the psychedelic era. In a series of movies that extended from the late 20s into the early 50s, he was a former military man turned amateur detective, usually with a fiancée and a comic relief sidekick. Here, played by Richard Johnson, he's an insurance investigator; there's no steady girlfriend but there is a bumbling sidekick, a cute blond nephew (Steve Carlson, pictured above with Johnson) who's back from an extended stay in the States, and it's Carlson who gets into trouble with the females--including one scene of tied-up shirtless torture. Of course, as the title warns, all women are potentially dangerous here, and the two chief baddies are Elke Sommer and Sylvia Koscina, emissaries of an evil corporation (headed by Nigel Green) which sells its services, no questions asked, to companies who are having trouble getting megadeals sealed; their solution usually involves Sommer and Koscina assassinating someone. For a relatively low-budget film, this is surprisingly enjoyable. Johnson, who was on the short list to play Bond before Sean Connery got the part, is good, the women are sexy, and there are a few cool setpieces: a cigar that, when lit, fires a spear backward through the smoker's head; Sommer and Koscina, in bikinis, wielding harpoons; and a climactic battle on a life-sized chess set. Scott Walker sings the very Bondian theme. The widescreen print on the DVD is quite nice. [DVD]
In the 60s, thanks to James Bond, secret agents were all the rage in the movies, and studios were searching for actors and characters who could fuel film franchises--Dean Martin as Matt Helm, James Coburn as Derek Flint, Monica Vitti as Modesty Blaise. This film drags the British character of Bulldog Drummond into the psychedelic era. In a series of movies that extended from the late 20s into the early 50s, he was a former military man turned amateur detective, usually with a fiancée and a comic relief sidekick. Here, played by Richard Johnson, he's an insurance investigator; there's no steady girlfriend but there is a bumbling sidekick, a cute blond nephew (Steve Carlson, pictured above with Johnson) who's back from an extended stay in the States, and it's Carlson who gets into trouble with the females--including one scene of tied-up shirtless torture. Of course, as the title warns, all women are potentially dangerous here, and the two chief baddies are Elke Sommer and Sylvia Koscina, emissaries of an evil corporation (headed by Nigel Green) which sells its services, no questions asked, to companies who are having trouble getting megadeals sealed; their solution usually involves Sommer and Koscina assassinating someone. For a relatively low-budget film, this is surprisingly enjoyable. Johnson, who was on the short list to play Bond before Sean Connery got the part, is good, the women are sexy, and there are a few cool setpieces: a cigar that, when lit, fires a spear backward through the smoker's head; Sommer and Koscina, in bikinis, wielding harpoons; and a climactic battle on a life-sized chess set. Scott Walker sings the very Bondian theme. The widescreen print on the DVD is quite nice. [DVD]Thursday, January 12, 2012
YELLOW CANARY (1943)
In the fall of 1940, socialite Anna Neagle has become persona non grata in wartime England because she's a Nazi sympathizer (and, it's implied in the opening scene, actively engaging in espionage by signaling to German warplanes), so she heads off to Canada on the S.S. Carina where she is roundly ignored except by polish refugee Albert Lieven who takes pity on her, and by Richard Greene, a Navy commander who is traveling incognito and who keeps a close eye on her. A German ship stops the liner, apparently tipped off by Neagle, and demands Greene be surrendered to them, but a planted spy is given up instead—and a feisty old passenger (Margaret Rutherford) trips the Nazi captain on his way off the ship. In Halifax, Lieven takes Neagle in and she ingratiates herself with Lieven's elderly mother and her circle of friends, despite her toasting to the "new order" when everyone else toasts to "old freedoms." Big surprise #1: Lieven is actually a Nazi spy who is in on a plan to blow up Halifax Harbor. Big surprises # 2 & 3: Neagle is actually a spy for the British who is trying to infiltrate Lieven's ring, and Greene is her contact. Big surprise #4: Guess who's the head of the Nazi spy ring?
This WWII spy thriller has a great storyline and two very good performances by Neagle and Lieven, but it's almost sunk by a generally drab treatment and a slow pace, with the film's style alternating between traditional thriller and faux-documentary, and because of that, some of the key suspense scenes are bungled. Of course, those big surprises above will not really be surprises to anyone who's seen even a couple of spy movies, but it's fun to see all the elements fall into place. Neagle does a nice job keeping her cool and acting like she's really a traitor, even after we know she's not, and Lieven conveys his character’s slippery nature quite well. Greene (pictured above with Neagle) is handsome and suitably heroic, though overshadowed by Neagle. Rutherford has an amusing moment or two. There seems to be a huge plothole near the end when Greene arrives to save Neagle mere moments after she had called him at headquarters. Unless HQ was next right next door, I have no idea how he got there so fast. The title refers (I think) to Neagle's Nazi spy code name. [TCM]
In the fall of 1940, socialite Anna Neagle has become persona non grata in wartime England because she's a Nazi sympathizer (and, it's implied in the opening scene, actively engaging in espionage by signaling to German warplanes), so she heads off to Canada on the S.S. Carina where she is roundly ignored except by polish refugee Albert Lieven who takes pity on her, and by Richard Greene, a Navy commander who is traveling incognito and who keeps a close eye on her. A German ship stops the liner, apparently tipped off by Neagle, and demands Greene be surrendered to them, but a planted spy is given up instead—and a feisty old passenger (Margaret Rutherford) trips the Nazi captain on his way off the ship. In Halifax, Lieven takes Neagle in and she ingratiates herself with Lieven's elderly mother and her circle of friends, despite her toasting to the "new order" when everyone else toasts to "old freedoms." Big surprise #1: Lieven is actually a Nazi spy who is in on a plan to blow up Halifax Harbor. Big surprises # 2 & 3: Neagle is actually a spy for the British who is trying to infiltrate Lieven's ring, and Greene is her contact. Big surprise #4: Guess who's the head of the Nazi spy ring?This WWII spy thriller has a great storyline and two very good performances by Neagle and Lieven, but it's almost sunk by a generally drab treatment and a slow pace, with the film's style alternating between traditional thriller and faux-documentary, and because of that, some of the key suspense scenes are bungled. Of course, those big surprises above will not really be surprises to anyone who's seen even a couple of spy movies, but it's fun to see all the elements fall into place. Neagle does a nice job keeping her cool and acting like she's really a traitor, even after we know she's not, and Lieven conveys his character’s slippery nature quite well. Greene (pictured above with Neagle) is handsome and suitably heroic, though overshadowed by Neagle. Rutherford has an amusing moment or two. There seems to be a huge plothole near the end when Greene arrives to save Neagle mere moments after she had called him at headquarters. Unless HQ was next right next door, I have no idea how he got there so fast. The title refers (I think) to Neagle's Nazi spy code name. [TCM]
Monday, January 09, 2012
THE GODDESS (1958)
Maryland, 1930. When Southern belle Laureen's husband kills himself, Laureen and her 4-year-old daughter Emily go to live with her brother and his wife, a stable and sober couple. Laureen, still young, wants to have fun, but is burdened by everyone around her. One night, she has a mini-breakdown, begging her brother to take her daughter, whom she loudly declares she never wanted. Sadly, little Emily hears every word. By 1942, Laureen is a pious churchgoer who spends her evenings praying out loud in the kitchen. Emily is a high school girl with a reputation, though she insists when a gawky lad takes her out that she doesn't go all the way. (She does eventually let the lad make out with her, though how far they go is up to the viewer's imagination.) One night on the town, she runs across a drunken soldier passed out on the street; when she finds out that he's the son of a famous movie star, she helps get him to his apartment. They're both rather messed up—he's tried to kill himself more than once—and they wind up married and unhappy. When he gets assigned to a combat unit, he says he hopes he gets killed, and she says she hopes so, too. She has a baby she is ill equipped to take care of and begs her mother to take the child, repeating Laureen's tirade about unwanted children word for word (she eventually palms the child off on her ex-husband). By 1947, she's changed her name to Rita and is a starlet in Hollywood; the rest of the movie chronicles her rise in the business as a sex bomb (married to and soon divorced from a former boxing champion), and her accompanying collapse into drinking, pills, nervous breakdowns, and suicide attempts. The final scene, set in 1957, shows her having yet another breakdown at her mother's funeral. We're told that the doctors have said that she'll keep making movies, but she's beyond therapy; she'll never be happy or "normal."
Though the screenwriter, Paddy Chayefsky, denied it, this story seems clearly based on the life of Marilyn Monroe (unhappy childhood, early unhappy marriage, suicide attempts, marriage to a sports figure, sex bombness, etc., not to mention the specific years of birth, first marriage, and first movie). This could have been an interesting film, and indeed the first half up to the Hollywood years is compelling. But even though the movie is not physically stagy, it has a claustrophobic feel, in that virtually everything connected with her movie career happens offscreen, and we wind up getting a series of dialogue-heavy scenes in bedrooms and living rooms with two or three people screaming at each other. Kim Stanley, a highly acclaimed stage actress, is fine but she's way too old to be playing a teenager in the middle of the film, and she's never believable as a blonde bombshell, though she might have been if we'd seen her working in front of the camera, or even among her fans. The first part of the film, which has a strong Tennessee Williams vibe, belongs to Betty Lou Holland, who is remarkable as the mother; even near the end of the film, when she comes to L.A. to help Emily out after her breakdown, she almost steals a dramatic religious conversion scene by underplaying as Stanley is overplaying. Steven Hill, who spent many years on Law & Order, is good as her first husband, as is Lloyd Bridges as the boxer (pictured above). Patty Duke has a small role as the very young Emily, and a pre-Col. Klink Werner Klemperer plays a Hollywood producer. Burt Brinckerhoff, who became an esteemed TV director, is the gawky lad, and Louise Beavers can be glimpsed in the background of a scene as a maid—apparently, several scenes were taken out of the final cut by Chayefsky (even though it was directed by John Cromwell) and I'm guessing hers was one. Overall, I'd have to rank this an interesting failure; a different lead actress and more scenes to establish Emily/Rita's talent, or lack thereof, would have helped. [TCM]
Maryland, 1930. When Southern belle Laureen's husband kills himself, Laureen and her 4-year-old daughter Emily go to live with her brother and his wife, a stable and sober couple. Laureen, still young, wants to have fun, but is burdened by everyone around her. One night, she has a mini-breakdown, begging her brother to take her daughter, whom she loudly declares she never wanted. Sadly, little Emily hears every word. By 1942, Laureen is a pious churchgoer who spends her evenings praying out loud in the kitchen. Emily is a high school girl with a reputation, though she insists when a gawky lad takes her out that she doesn't go all the way. (She does eventually let the lad make out with her, though how far they go is up to the viewer's imagination.) One night on the town, she runs across a drunken soldier passed out on the street; when she finds out that he's the son of a famous movie star, she helps get him to his apartment. They're both rather messed up—he's tried to kill himself more than once—and they wind up married and unhappy. When he gets assigned to a combat unit, he says he hopes he gets killed, and she says she hopes so, too. She has a baby she is ill equipped to take care of and begs her mother to take the child, repeating Laureen's tirade about unwanted children word for word (she eventually palms the child off on her ex-husband). By 1947, she's changed her name to Rita and is a starlet in Hollywood; the rest of the movie chronicles her rise in the business as a sex bomb (married to and soon divorced from a former boxing champion), and her accompanying collapse into drinking, pills, nervous breakdowns, and suicide attempts. The final scene, set in 1957, shows her having yet another breakdown at her mother's funeral. We're told that the doctors have said that she'll keep making movies, but she's beyond therapy; she'll never be happy or "normal."Though the screenwriter, Paddy Chayefsky, denied it, this story seems clearly based on the life of Marilyn Monroe (unhappy childhood, early unhappy marriage, suicide attempts, marriage to a sports figure, sex bombness, etc., not to mention the specific years of birth, first marriage, and first movie). This could have been an interesting film, and indeed the first half up to the Hollywood years is compelling. But even though the movie is not physically stagy, it has a claustrophobic feel, in that virtually everything connected with her movie career happens offscreen, and we wind up getting a series of dialogue-heavy scenes in bedrooms and living rooms with two or three people screaming at each other. Kim Stanley, a highly acclaimed stage actress, is fine but she's way too old to be playing a teenager in the middle of the film, and she's never believable as a blonde bombshell, though she might have been if we'd seen her working in front of the camera, or even among her fans. The first part of the film, which has a strong Tennessee Williams vibe, belongs to Betty Lou Holland, who is remarkable as the mother; even near the end of the film, when she comes to L.A. to help Emily out after her breakdown, she almost steals a dramatic religious conversion scene by underplaying as Stanley is overplaying. Steven Hill, who spent many years on Law & Order, is good as her first husband, as is Lloyd Bridges as the boxer (pictured above). Patty Duke has a small role as the very young Emily, and a pre-Col. Klink Werner Klemperer plays a Hollywood producer. Burt Brinckerhoff, who became an esteemed TV director, is the gawky lad, and Louise Beavers can be glimpsed in the background of a scene as a maid—apparently, several scenes were taken out of the final cut by Chayefsky (even though it was directed by John Cromwell) and I'm guessing hers was one. Overall, I'd have to rank this an interesting failure; a different lead actress and more scenes to establish Emily/Rita's talent, or lack thereof, would have helped. [TCM]Friday, January 06, 2012
THANKS FOR THE MEMORY (1938)
Bob Hope is a struggling writer, newly married to former model Shirley Ross. They are living in a nice Manhattan apartment in relative bliss except they're behind on the rent. Publisher Otto Kruger (a former boyfriend of Ross's) has read some chapters of Hope's book and says they show promise, but that Hope needs to concentrate more on the book and less on his work and social life. He quits his job and his wife goes back to work as a model, but it's harder to drop their fun-loving friends, including boozehound couple Charles Butterworth and Hedda Hopper, and Roscoe Karns, who has just married an older woman (Laura Hope Crews) for her money. Soon, Hope is upset over his stay-at-home house-husband role, and he's not terribly happy when Ross and Kruger seem to be getting quite friendly. When the pretty Southern belle next door starts hanging around, the stage is set for comic misunderstandings. As is often the case in romantic comedies of the era, a pregnancy solves everything.
Hope and Ross had sung "Thanks for the Memory" earlier in the year in THE BIG BROADCAST OF 1938 and it became his signature song so it seems likely that this movie was rushed through to capitalize on the song. The script, based on a play, is OK but nothing special. What makes this worth watching are a good supporting cast and Hope's effortless comic style. Butterworth is especially good; he's usually fun to see, but here his delivery is drier and less emphatic than in his earlier films. Karns is good, too, and his early scene with Crews is a highlight of the film. Eddie 'Rochester' Anderson gets a couple good lines as the building janitor. Light comedy was not Kruger's forte, but his role is small enough that he can be ignored. In addition to the title song, Hope and Ross also sing a cute song called "Two Sleepy People." [DVD]
Bob Hope is a struggling writer, newly married to former model Shirley Ross. They are living in a nice Manhattan apartment in relative bliss except they're behind on the rent. Publisher Otto Kruger (a former boyfriend of Ross's) has read some chapters of Hope's book and says they show promise, but that Hope needs to concentrate more on the book and less on his work and social life. He quits his job and his wife goes back to work as a model, but it's harder to drop their fun-loving friends, including boozehound couple Charles Butterworth and Hedda Hopper, and Roscoe Karns, who has just married an older woman (Laura Hope Crews) for her money. Soon, Hope is upset over his stay-at-home house-husband role, and he's not terribly happy when Ross and Kruger seem to be getting quite friendly. When the pretty Southern belle next door starts hanging around, the stage is set for comic misunderstandings. As is often the case in romantic comedies of the era, a pregnancy solves everything.Hope and Ross had sung "Thanks for the Memory" earlier in the year in THE BIG BROADCAST OF 1938 and it became his signature song so it seems likely that this movie was rushed through to capitalize on the song. The script, based on a play, is OK but nothing special. What makes this worth watching are a good supporting cast and Hope's effortless comic style. Butterworth is especially good; he's usually fun to see, but here his delivery is drier and less emphatic than in his earlier films. Karns is good, too, and his early scene with Crews is a highlight of the film. Eddie 'Rochester' Anderson gets a couple good lines as the building janitor. Light comedy was not Kruger's forte, but his role is small enough that he can be ignored. In addition to the title song, Hope and Ross also sing a cute song called "Two Sleepy People." [DVD]
Tuesday, January 03, 2012
ACTION IN ARABIA (1944)
Damascus during WWII is, we are told, "a breeding place of espionage and intrigue." When reporter George Sanders and his young sidekick Robert Andersen (both pictured at left) get off the plane, Andersen asks, "What is this, the Middle Ages?" and Sanders replies, "No, the Middle East, but it sometimes comes to the same thing." When they witness a lovely young woman meet an older man who had been on the plane under an assumed name, they smell a story and Andersen decides to follow up. Sanders goes on to the hotel where he meets up with Robert Armstrong, an American diplomat, and Alan Napier, the British owner of the hotel and a Nazi sympathizer. Both men, for different reasons, warn Sanders to leave, but when Andersen is found dead, knifed on the street, Sanders stays to get to the bottom of things. He has an encounter with Gene Lockhart, a spy with news about Nazi relationships with Arabs, and gets friendly with Virginia Bruce, who claims to be in the Free French movement; she is supposedly stuck in Damascus with a sickly aunt, but Sanders suspects she has other reasons for hanging around, and he’s right. It turns out that the Arab tribes are meeting to determine which side they will back; the head sheik (H.B. Warner) is throwing his support to the Allies, but the Nazis are out to subvert that, and will stop at nothing to get their way.
I suspect that this was intended as a poor man's Casablanca—Nazis in the desert, a hero in a white suit, a gambling room, and even Marcel Dalio, Rick’s croupier, crops up—but George Sanders, fine actor that he is, is no Bogart, or Errol Flynn, or even George Montgomery (who made an OK B-film Bogart-type in CHINA GIRL. He strikes no sparks with Bruce and never comes off as heroic even when he is. Still, for fans of B-wartime spy films, this has some pleasures. The elaborate hotel lobby set is atmospheric and the supporting cast is strong, particularly Armstrong and Lockhart, who both get to be ambiguous figures who could swing either way (by which I mean Allies or Nazis). Of course, none of the major Arab roles are played by Arab actors, except for Kareem, a tribal leader, played by Syrian actor Jamiel Hasson. The impressive scenes of the Arab tribes coming together in the desert in the latter half of the film are composed of bits of footage shot in the late 30s for a movie about T.E. Lawrence which was never made. [TCM]
Damascus during WWII is, we are told, "a breeding place of espionage and intrigue." When reporter George Sanders and his young sidekick Robert Andersen (both pictured at left) get off the plane, Andersen asks, "What is this, the Middle Ages?" and Sanders replies, "No, the Middle East, but it sometimes comes to the same thing." When they witness a lovely young woman meet an older man who had been on the plane under an assumed name, they smell a story and Andersen decides to follow up. Sanders goes on to the hotel where he meets up with Robert Armstrong, an American diplomat, and Alan Napier, the British owner of the hotel and a Nazi sympathizer. Both men, for different reasons, warn Sanders to leave, but when Andersen is found dead, knifed on the street, Sanders stays to get to the bottom of things. He has an encounter with Gene Lockhart, a spy with news about Nazi relationships with Arabs, and gets friendly with Virginia Bruce, who claims to be in the Free French movement; she is supposedly stuck in Damascus with a sickly aunt, but Sanders suspects she has other reasons for hanging around, and he’s right. It turns out that the Arab tribes are meeting to determine which side they will back; the head sheik (H.B. Warner) is throwing his support to the Allies, but the Nazis are out to subvert that, and will stop at nothing to get their way.I suspect that this was intended as a poor man's Casablanca—Nazis in the desert, a hero in a white suit, a gambling room, and even Marcel Dalio, Rick’s croupier, crops up—but George Sanders, fine actor that he is, is no Bogart, or Errol Flynn, or even George Montgomery (who made an OK B-film Bogart-type in CHINA GIRL. He strikes no sparks with Bruce and never comes off as heroic even when he is. Still, for fans of B-wartime spy films, this has some pleasures. The elaborate hotel lobby set is atmospheric and the supporting cast is strong, particularly Armstrong and Lockhart, who both get to be ambiguous figures who could swing either way (by which I mean Allies or Nazis). Of course, none of the major Arab roles are played by Arab actors, except for Kareem, a tribal leader, played by Syrian actor Jamiel Hasson. The impressive scenes of the Arab tribes coming together in the desert in the latter half of the film are composed of bits of footage shot in the late 30s for a movie about T.E. Lawrence which was never made. [TCM]
Thursday, December 29, 2011
THE GREAT GATSBY (1949)
For my money, F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby is the Great American Novel, at least of the 20th century. The 1974 film version with Robert Redford looked good but was long and draggy and hollow, and teaches us that actors who might look right for their roles (Redford and Mia Farrow) are sometimes not right at all. The 1949 version was my own little Holy Grail; long unavailable for viewing, it was supposed to be released on DVD a few years back but was withdrawn before it ever saw the light of day. I was finally able to see it on YouTube, not exactly the best way to view a movie, but until Universal (which owns the older Paramount film library) decides to issue it legally, it's the only to go, and it's definitely worth seeing. In the 1920s, young Nick Carraway becomes friends with Jay Gatsby, an impossibly rich and handsome man who gives elaborate Jazz Age parties but whom no one really knows. Nick finds out that Gatsby has amassed his wealth in order to win back his old flame Daisy Buchanan, who is now unhappily married to a cheating brute, and Nick becomes an accomplice in Gatsby's plots to get Daisy to run off with him, with tragic results.
In the book, the source of Gatsby's wealth is ambiguous; here it's blatantly presented that he has built a "dark empire" as a rum runner, but generally as far as plot, this film is fairly faithful to the book. Alan Ladd was never an actor of great depth, but being that Gatsby is mostly a man of surfaces, he's almost exactly right for the part, and certainly embodies the character more satisfyingly than Redford did. Macdonald Carey as Nick comes off as a moralistic prig, the exact opposite of the hero-worshiping Nick of the novel. Betty Field is serviceable as Daisy, nothing more. Same for Ruth Hussey as Jordan, the cheating golfer who flirts with Nick—in this film, they wind up married (!); the entire film is Nick's flashback as he and Jordan visit Gatsby's grave many years later. Barry Sullivan is OK as Daisy's husband. Elisha Cook Jr. is an itinerant pianist who lives in Gatsby’s house and who served with him during WWI. Henry Hull plays Gatsby's mentor in a plotline that has been considerably fleshed out from what's in the book. The best acting comes from Howard Da Silva and Shelley Winters as the Wilsons, a sad couple who are the catalyst for the tragic ending. Though the first big party at Gatsby's is well staged, the movie does not have a strong 20s feel to it. But this version's biggest minus is the lack of poetry and ambiguity that make the novel such a wonderful reading experience; gone is any sense of "boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." There is one line I enjoyed that I suspect is not Fitzgerald’s: Nick: “I’d like to take you over my knee”; Jordan: “Any time, any place!” For all its faults, this is the best film version of the book yet produced. [YouTube]
For my money, F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby is the Great American Novel, at least of the 20th century. The 1974 film version with Robert Redford looked good but was long and draggy and hollow, and teaches us that actors who might look right for their roles (Redford and Mia Farrow) are sometimes not right at all. The 1949 version was my own little Holy Grail; long unavailable for viewing, it was supposed to be released on DVD a few years back but was withdrawn before it ever saw the light of day. I was finally able to see it on YouTube, not exactly the best way to view a movie, but until Universal (which owns the older Paramount film library) decides to issue it legally, it's the only to go, and it's definitely worth seeing. In the 1920s, young Nick Carraway becomes friends with Jay Gatsby, an impossibly rich and handsome man who gives elaborate Jazz Age parties but whom no one really knows. Nick finds out that Gatsby has amassed his wealth in order to win back his old flame Daisy Buchanan, who is now unhappily married to a cheating brute, and Nick becomes an accomplice in Gatsby's plots to get Daisy to run off with him, with tragic results.In the book, the source of Gatsby's wealth is ambiguous; here it's blatantly presented that he has built a "dark empire" as a rum runner, but generally as far as plot, this film is fairly faithful to the book. Alan Ladd was never an actor of great depth, but being that Gatsby is mostly a man of surfaces, he's almost exactly right for the part, and certainly embodies the character more satisfyingly than Redford did. Macdonald Carey as Nick comes off as a moralistic prig, the exact opposite of the hero-worshiping Nick of the novel. Betty Field is serviceable as Daisy, nothing more. Same for Ruth Hussey as Jordan, the cheating golfer who flirts with Nick—in this film, they wind up married (!); the entire film is Nick's flashback as he and Jordan visit Gatsby's grave many years later. Barry Sullivan is OK as Daisy's husband. Elisha Cook Jr. is an itinerant pianist who lives in Gatsby’s house and who served with him during WWI. Henry Hull plays Gatsby's mentor in a plotline that has been considerably fleshed out from what's in the book. The best acting comes from Howard Da Silva and Shelley Winters as the Wilsons, a sad couple who are the catalyst for the tragic ending. Though the first big party at Gatsby's is well staged, the movie does not have a strong 20s feel to it. But this version's biggest minus is the lack of poetry and ambiguity that make the novel such a wonderful reading experience; gone is any sense of "boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." There is one line I enjoyed that I suspect is not Fitzgerald’s: Nick: “I’d like to take you over my knee”; Jordan: “Any time, any place!” For all its faults, this is the best film version of the book yet produced. [YouTube]
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
WHERE THE SIDEWALK ENDS (1950)
Dana Andrews is a tough cop, a little too tough for his superiors; he has a reputation for acts of what today would be police brutality, and after his latest scuffle, he's knocked down a rank to second grade detective. His latest case involves a Texas oil man (Harry von Zell) who was brought into a crap game by lovely Gene Tierney, doing a favor for her thug husband Craig Stevens. The oil man loses a lot of money, then starts winning. When he decides to leave the game, Stevens' boss (Gary Merrill) isn’t happy. Stevens slaps Tierney around, blaming her for not getting the oil man to stay. When von Zell steps in to be a gentleman, he and Stevens get into a fight. Fade out to next morning when von Zell is found dead. Andrews fingers Stevens and winds up slugging him a bit too hard, killing Stevens. Andrews panics and tries to make it look like Stevens left town, then when his body is found, tries to frame Merrill, but circumstances lead to Tierney's father being arrested for the murder. To make matters stickier, Andrews has started dating Tierney.
This is a nice little film noir that in the wrap-up lets everyone off a little too easily. There is a deep dark psychological reason given eventually for Andrews' problems, in particular his desire to see Merrill fry, but after spending two-thirds of the film painting Andrews as a dark anti-hero, things lighten up a little too much and some of the impact of the first half of the film is lost. Still, Andrews (pictured) is fine as the good cop/bad cop, Merrill does a nice job as the cocky hood, and Karl Malden, in an early featured role, plays Andrews' newly promoted boss. Tierney isn't given a lot to do besides look lovely, which she does. Ruth Donnelly has a nice bit (in a Thelma Ritter mold) as a café owner who dotes on Andrews and tries her best to advance his romance with Tierney. Neville Brand stands out as a creepy little crook. A solid noir melodrama with the right look and, for at least half its running time, the right feel. [FMC]
Dana Andrews is a tough cop, a little too tough for his superiors; he has a reputation for acts of what today would be police brutality, and after his latest scuffle, he's knocked down a rank to second grade detective. His latest case involves a Texas oil man (Harry von Zell) who was brought into a crap game by lovely Gene Tierney, doing a favor for her thug husband Craig Stevens. The oil man loses a lot of money, then starts winning. When he decides to leave the game, Stevens' boss (Gary Merrill) isn’t happy. Stevens slaps Tierney around, blaming her for not getting the oil man to stay. When von Zell steps in to be a gentleman, he and Stevens get into a fight. Fade out to next morning when von Zell is found dead. Andrews fingers Stevens and winds up slugging him a bit too hard, killing Stevens. Andrews panics and tries to make it look like Stevens left town, then when his body is found, tries to frame Merrill, but circumstances lead to Tierney's father being arrested for the murder. To make matters stickier, Andrews has started dating Tierney.This is a nice little film noir that in the wrap-up lets everyone off a little too easily. There is a deep dark psychological reason given eventually for Andrews' problems, in particular his desire to see Merrill fry, but after spending two-thirds of the film painting Andrews as a dark anti-hero, things lighten up a little too much and some of the impact of the first half of the film is lost. Still, Andrews (pictured) is fine as the good cop/bad cop, Merrill does a nice job as the cocky hood, and Karl Malden, in an early featured role, plays Andrews' newly promoted boss. Tierney isn't given a lot to do besides look lovely, which she does. Ruth Donnelly has a nice bit (in a Thelma Ritter mold) as a café owner who dotes on Andrews and tries her best to advance his romance with Tierney. Neville Brand stands out as a creepy little crook. A solid noir melodrama with the right look and, for at least half its running time, the right feel. [FMC]
Monday, December 26, 2011
A KID FOR TWO FARTHINGS (1955)
In a bustling market neighborhood in London, young Joe and his mother Joanna live with a kindly tailor, Mr. Kandinsky, while waiting for Joe's dad to come back from South Africa on a (seemingly desperate) business deal. Joe flits around on the streets, making friends with everyone, chasing pigeons, and mourning his pet chicks who never live very long. While keeping Joe entertained, Kandinsky tells him about the magic of unicorns who can grant wishes, and soon Joe finds a young, sickly one-horned goat at the market and buys it from its owner. Convinced that the "unicorn" is real, he begins making wishes for his friends and relatives that eventually come true.
That summary makes this film sound like a sweet whimsical fantasy, but it's actually a non-whimsical slice-of-life comedy-drama, albeit in a mood of poetic realism. Much of it was filmed on location in Petticoat Lane in London, which looks like the Lower East Side of New York always used to look in movies. Because the setting grounds the film in realism, some touches of whimsy would be welcome, but aside from the first sighting of the unicorn, there just isn't enough magic in this movie. Seven-year-old Jonathan Ashmore (in his only acting credit) does a nice job as Joe; Celia Johnson (of BRIEF ENCOUNTER) is fine as his mother. Too much of the film is given over to a subplot involving a "dumb lug" boxer (the beefy but wooden Joe Robinson) and his sexpot girlfriend (Diana Dors, often called the British Marilyn Monroe); neither the actors nor the characters are particularly interesting. Best is David Kossoff as the tailor who seems to truly be looking out for Johnson and her son. Nice use of color is a plus; length of the film (at least 15 minutes too long) is a minus. The goat is cute, and I wound up caring more about its fate than the fates of any of the humans. Some critics have said that the film leaves it up in the air as to whether or not the goat is magical, but I saw absolutely no evidence of such an interpretation: it's a poor little one-horned goat and the outcomes for the humans don't need magic to explain them. [TCM]
In a bustling market neighborhood in London, young Joe and his mother Joanna live with a kindly tailor, Mr. Kandinsky, while waiting for Joe's dad to come back from South Africa on a (seemingly desperate) business deal. Joe flits around on the streets, making friends with everyone, chasing pigeons, and mourning his pet chicks who never live very long. While keeping Joe entertained, Kandinsky tells him about the magic of unicorns who can grant wishes, and soon Joe finds a young, sickly one-horned goat at the market and buys it from its owner. Convinced that the "unicorn" is real, he begins making wishes for his friends and relatives that eventually come true.That summary makes this film sound like a sweet whimsical fantasy, but it's actually a non-whimsical slice-of-life comedy-drama, albeit in a mood of poetic realism. Much of it was filmed on location in Petticoat Lane in London, which looks like the Lower East Side of New York always used to look in movies. Because the setting grounds the film in realism, some touches of whimsy would be welcome, but aside from the first sighting of the unicorn, there just isn't enough magic in this movie. Seven-year-old Jonathan Ashmore (in his only acting credit) does a nice job as Joe; Celia Johnson (of BRIEF ENCOUNTER) is fine as his mother. Too much of the film is given over to a subplot involving a "dumb lug" boxer (the beefy but wooden Joe Robinson) and his sexpot girlfriend (Diana Dors, often called the British Marilyn Monroe); neither the actors nor the characters are particularly interesting. Best is David Kossoff as the tailor who seems to truly be looking out for Johnson and her son. Nice use of color is a plus; length of the film (at least 15 minutes too long) is a minus. The goat is cute, and I wound up caring more about its fate than the fates of any of the humans. Some critics have said that the film leaves it up in the air as to whether or not the goat is magical, but I saw absolutely no evidence of such an interpretation: it's a poor little one-horned goat and the outcomes for the humans don't need magic to explain them. [TCM]
Friday, December 23, 2011
REMEMBER THE NIGHT (1940)
A sentimental Christmas romantic comedy with a bit of an edge, written by Preston Sturges. A couple of days before Christmas, snappily dressed looker Barbara Stanwyck is on trial for shoplifting a bracelet. She's a career crook and DA Fred MacMurray knows it, but he also knows that at the holidays, a jury will always sympathize with a woman, so he gets a continuance until after the first of the year. She can't make bail so MacMurray arranges for it. She thinks he did it because he expects something in return, but he's just a nice guy about to head out to Indiana to visit his mom; when she frets that she has no place to go for Christmas and he finds out she's also from Indiana, he suggests she tag along. However, when her cruel mother turns her away, she goes with him and experiences an old-fashioned, totally functional, rural family Christmas; she begins to lose some of her hardness and falls for MacMurray. His big-hearted mother (Beulah Bondi) takes good care of Stanwyck, but is also smart enough to know that she could be bad news to her straight-shooting son, who worked hard to get where he is and might get derailed by a "bad girl," even one who is ready to reform. On the way back to the big city, he encourages her to skip bail in Canada, but she decides to keep her court date and face the music.
This is a movie full of tonal shifts. It starts with comical big-city courtroom shenanigans as a lawyer (Willard Robertson) gives an over-the-top speech to the jury claiming Stanwyck was hypnotized by the jewels and therefore not responsible. The trip to Indiana has some road-trip comedy I could do without, but it leads to an intense, almost noirish scene with the uncaring mother (think Beulah Bondi as the bad Pottersville Ma Bailey in IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE). The Christmas sequence is touching without passing into sticky-sweetness, but the last 20 minutes turn a little too melodramatic for my taste. Of course, Bondi is fine, as are Elizabeth Patterson as MacMurray's spinster aunt and Sterling Holloway as the sweetly dopey farmhand (all pictured above with Stanwyck and MacMurray). I like MacMurray mocking Robertson's theatrical delivery to the jury with the line, "Quick, Watson, the needle!" I don't so much like Snowflake Toones' drawling valet stereotype. The first time I saw this film (when I was much younger) I was really pushing for Stanwyck to skip bail and resented what felt like a Code-imposed ending, but now it feels more organic to the story. A lovely Christmas movie and one which hasn’t become the victim of over-exposure (yet). [VHS; available on DVD]
A sentimental Christmas romantic comedy with a bit of an edge, written by Preston Sturges. A couple of days before Christmas, snappily dressed looker Barbara Stanwyck is on trial for shoplifting a bracelet. She's a career crook and DA Fred MacMurray knows it, but he also knows that at the holidays, a jury will always sympathize with a woman, so he gets a continuance until after the first of the year. She can't make bail so MacMurray arranges for it. She thinks he did it because he expects something in return, but he's just a nice guy about to head out to Indiana to visit his mom; when she frets that she has no place to go for Christmas and he finds out she's also from Indiana, he suggests she tag along. However, when her cruel mother turns her away, she goes with him and experiences an old-fashioned, totally functional, rural family Christmas; she begins to lose some of her hardness and falls for MacMurray. His big-hearted mother (Beulah Bondi) takes good care of Stanwyck, but is also smart enough to know that she could be bad news to her straight-shooting son, who worked hard to get where he is and might get derailed by a "bad girl," even one who is ready to reform. On the way back to the big city, he encourages her to skip bail in Canada, but she decides to keep her court date and face the music.This is a movie full of tonal shifts. It starts with comical big-city courtroom shenanigans as a lawyer (Willard Robertson) gives an over-the-top speech to the jury claiming Stanwyck was hypnotized by the jewels and therefore not responsible. The trip to Indiana has some road-trip comedy I could do without, but it leads to an intense, almost noirish scene with the uncaring mother (think Beulah Bondi as the bad Pottersville Ma Bailey in IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE). The Christmas sequence is touching without passing into sticky-sweetness, but the last 20 minutes turn a little too melodramatic for my taste. Of course, Bondi is fine, as are Elizabeth Patterson as MacMurray's spinster aunt and Sterling Holloway as the sweetly dopey farmhand (all pictured above with Stanwyck and MacMurray). I like MacMurray mocking Robertson's theatrical delivery to the jury with the line, "Quick, Watson, the needle!" I don't so much like Snowflake Toones' drawling valet stereotype. The first time I saw this film (when I was much younger) I was really pushing for Stanwyck to skip bail and resented what felt like a Code-imposed ending, but now it feels more organic to the story. A lovely Christmas movie and one which hasn’t become the victim of over-exposure (yet). [VHS; available on DVD]
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
STEPPING OUT (1931)
Two married couples, Tom & Eve Martin and Tubby & Sally Smith, are enjoying an evening together at the Martin's Hollywood home. Eve made Tom promise that they’d make a short night of it as she seems ready for some bedroom time with him, but Tom and Tubby have something else in mind: meeting and greeting a couple of would-be starlets whom they have in mind for a movie they’re backing. When the guys say they have to head to the studio for some unfinished work, the gals decide to hoof it to Mexico for a little vacation. After they leave, Tom and Tubby invite the starlets over for a late-night swim, but of course, the wives return and catch them. Thanks to a silly plot point (the men have been advised to put all their money and property in their wives' names so they won't lose everything if the movie flops), the wives head to Mexico prepared to gamble everything away. The men follow, hoping to make amends, but the starlets also follow. Complicating things, a couple of gigolos posing as Spanish waiters flirt with the wives. Naturally, this being a comedy, things work out in the end.
This mild pre-Code romantic farce is watchable but never rises above that. Charlotte Greenwood (Sally), known for her long legs and crazy kicks, is usually someone I like, but here her character is such a braying bitch that I was tired of her in the first 20 minutes. Lelia Hyams (Eve) and Harry Stubbs (Tubby) are lackluster but acceptable. I enjoyed seeing Reginald Denny (pictured), usually given comic relief sidekick parts, getting a starring role as Tom and doing well with it—of the four leads, he's the only one who really seemed at all sympathetic. Cliff Edwards gets a few good moments in as one of the gigolos (he's supposed to be a college student, but looks every bit his 35 years of age); Kane Richmond is younger and better looking as his buddy, a football star, but doesn't get to do much. Greenwood and Edwards sing a cute number, "Just Like Frankie and Johnny." Apparently, some of the exteriors were shot at the homes of Denny, Buster Keaton, and John Gilbert. [TCM]
Two married couples, Tom & Eve Martin and Tubby & Sally Smith, are enjoying an evening together at the Martin's Hollywood home. Eve made Tom promise that they’d make a short night of it as she seems ready for some bedroom time with him, but Tom and Tubby have something else in mind: meeting and greeting a couple of would-be starlets whom they have in mind for a movie they’re backing. When the guys say they have to head to the studio for some unfinished work, the gals decide to hoof it to Mexico for a little vacation. After they leave, Tom and Tubby invite the starlets over for a late-night swim, but of course, the wives return and catch them. Thanks to a silly plot point (the men have been advised to put all their money and property in their wives' names so they won't lose everything if the movie flops), the wives head to Mexico prepared to gamble everything away. The men follow, hoping to make amends, but the starlets also follow. Complicating things, a couple of gigolos posing as Spanish waiters flirt with the wives. Naturally, this being a comedy, things work out in the end.This mild pre-Code romantic farce is watchable but never rises above that. Charlotte Greenwood (Sally), known for her long legs and crazy kicks, is usually someone I like, but here her character is such a braying bitch that I was tired of her in the first 20 minutes. Lelia Hyams (Eve) and Harry Stubbs (Tubby) are lackluster but acceptable. I enjoyed seeing Reginald Denny (pictured), usually given comic relief sidekick parts, getting a starring role as Tom and doing well with it—of the four leads, he's the only one who really seemed at all sympathetic. Cliff Edwards gets a few good moments in as one of the gigolos (he's supposed to be a college student, but looks every bit his 35 years of age); Kane Richmond is younger and better looking as his buddy, a football star, but doesn't get to do much. Greenwood and Edwards sing a cute number, "Just Like Frankie and Johnny." Apparently, some of the exteriors were shot at the homes of Denny, Buster Keaton, and John Gilbert. [TCM]
Sunday, December 18, 2011
MY SON JOHN (1952)
An interesting entry in the string of anti-Communist propaganda films of the early 50's; the commie plot is secondary at times to the dysfunctional family plot which seems lifted from the works of Arthur Miller (Death of a Salesman, All My Sons). Helen Hayes and Dean Jagger say farewell to two of their sons as they head off to the Korean War. Their third son, Robert Walker, who works in Washington for the government, misses the farewell dinner but shows up a week later and we immediately see tensions between the three: Mom and Dad are old-fashioned, God-fearing, hard-working, middle-class citizens (Dad is running for head of the local American Legion unit); Walker is an effete college-educated liberal who does soft office work and seems to be an atheist to boot. Father and son are constantly at odds--during an argument, Jagger literally thumps Walker with a Bible--though Mom seems just a little too adoring of her little boy. Soon, Van Heflin shows up, a Fed who suspects that Walker is a Communist and is giving state secrets to the Russians through a woman who is eventually arrested for treason. Of course, he is, and of course, eventually, he sees the error of his ways and wants to spill everything to the FBI, but will his fellow travelers let him go that easily?
One problem with the film is the acting. Hayes gives an out-and-out bad performance, jittery, wide-eyed and mannered, like she's on a TV soap opera (except she doesn't keep looking at cue cards). Jagger's a bit better; he goes over-the-top frequently, but he does have a certain nervous chemistry with Walker, like a father might have with a son he felt he didn’t really know. Heflin has nothing substantive to do. Walker is the saving grace; as in STRANGERS ON A TRAIN, he's playing a gay character but can't really let on that he is (godless commie + academic + mama's boy = light in his loafers). He does a great job balancing the character's conflicting emotions: genuine love for a family from which he's grown away, genuine belief in Communism as a panacea for the world's ills, and an apparently genuine desire to "reform." Sadly, Walker died halfway through filming, and the climactic action had to be completely rewritten in a way that largely dispenses with Walker's character; some footage of Walker from STRANGERS ON A TRAIN is incorporated and a climactic speech which was supposed to be delivered by Walker at a college graduation is instead presented on tape in an interesting looking but dramatically inert scene. For an actor who always seemed a bit high-strung, he gives a remarkably natural performance. At two hours, it's too long, but worth seeing for Walker. [TCM]
An interesting entry in the string of anti-Communist propaganda films of the early 50's; the commie plot is secondary at times to the dysfunctional family plot which seems lifted from the works of Arthur Miller (Death of a Salesman, All My Sons). Helen Hayes and Dean Jagger say farewell to two of their sons as they head off to the Korean War. Their third son, Robert Walker, who works in Washington for the government, misses the farewell dinner but shows up a week later and we immediately see tensions between the three: Mom and Dad are old-fashioned, God-fearing, hard-working, middle-class citizens (Dad is running for head of the local American Legion unit); Walker is an effete college-educated liberal who does soft office work and seems to be an atheist to boot. Father and son are constantly at odds--during an argument, Jagger literally thumps Walker with a Bible--though Mom seems just a little too adoring of her little boy. Soon, Van Heflin shows up, a Fed who suspects that Walker is a Communist and is giving state secrets to the Russians through a woman who is eventually arrested for treason. Of course, he is, and of course, eventually, he sees the error of his ways and wants to spill everything to the FBI, but will his fellow travelers let him go that easily?One problem with the film is the acting. Hayes gives an out-and-out bad performance, jittery, wide-eyed and mannered, like she's on a TV soap opera (except she doesn't keep looking at cue cards). Jagger's a bit better; he goes over-the-top frequently, but he does have a certain nervous chemistry with Walker, like a father might have with a son he felt he didn’t really know. Heflin has nothing substantive to do. Walker is the saving grace; as in STRANGERS ON A TRAIN, he's playing a gay character but can't really let on that he is (godless commie + academic + mama's boy = light in his loafers). He does a great job balancing the character's conflicting emotions: genuine love for a family from which he's grown away, genuine belief in Communism as a panacea for the world's ills, and an apparently genuine desire to "reform." Sadly, Walker died halfway through filming, and the climactic action had to be completely rewritten in a way that largely dispenses with Walker's character; some footage of Walker from STRANGERS ON A TRAIN is incorporated and a climactic speech which was supposed to be delivered by Walker at a college graduation is instead presented on tape in an interesting looking but dramatically inert scene. For an actor who always seemed a bit high-strung, he gives a remarkably natural performance. At two hours, it's too long, but worth seeing for Walker. [TCM]
Friday, December 16, 2011
THE CONSTANT NYMPH (1943)
Charles Boyer is a struggling composer living in a boarding house; when his latest dissonant concert music is played to negative reviews in London, he has a big hissy fit leading to him smash his piano, so he heads off to the Swiss chalet of old friend Montagu Love to recover. He basks in the adoration of Love’s daughters, especially bubbly teenager Joan Fontaine (at right with Boyer). Love sympathizes with Boyer, but chastises him, telling him he’s "ashamed of melody," and encourages him to work on one of his short, lovely throwaway tunes which has caught Fontaine's attention. Boyer is also told that he will learn to write truly great music only after he learns to cry. Fontaine, who has a heart condition, clearly has a crush on Boyer, and they spend some idyllic times together in the mountains, but after Love dies, the girls are put in the care of their uncle (Charles Coburn).
Time passes; the girls are taken to England for schooling and Boyer marries Alexis Smith, Coburn’s daughter. Up to this point, the film has played out like a romantic comedy, but things take a melodramatic turn here and we get a series of emotionally charged conversations between Boyer and Fontaine (who is completely in love with him), between Boyer and Smith (who are having marital problems), between Smith and Coburn (he knows she's not happy), and between Fontaine and Smith (she knows Fontaine's in love with her husband). Boyer finally has an emotional breakthrough when he realizes he's in love with Fontaine, cries, and is able to flesh out his throwaway melody into a symphonic "tone poem" which becomes a huge success when it is played in concert. Fontaine, whose heart weakness spells are increasing, listens to the piece over the radio in ecstasy, but…, well, heart conditions being what they are in movies, the ecstasy is short-lived.
This movie had been out of circulation due to copyright problems for over 50 years and had become something of a Holy Grail for classic movie buffs, so inevitably it's a bit disappointing to finally see it and realize it's just an average romantic melodrama, on the order of other such films set in the world of classical music (INTERMEZZO, HUMORESQUE). Fontaine gives a good performance; she never seems as young as she's supposed to be, but that's a good thing because it would be a bit too creepy to have a real 14-year-old be the romantic object of the mid-40s Boyer. I'm not a big fan of Boyer but he's quite good here, with just the right doses of egocentrism and tenderness. There are some fine supporting players, but their plotlines aren't given enough attention for them to shine: in addition to Smith (pictured above with Fontaine) and Coburn, there's Brenda Marshall as the oldest daughter who, because she dates around, has the reputation of having "gone bad"; Peter Lorre as her off-and-on lover; Dame May Whitty as a high society lady; and Eduardo Ciannelli as a family servant. The tone poem "Tomorrow" was written by Erich Wolfgang Korngold and has taken on a life of its own outside the film. My favorite line, delivered by Coburn to Smith: "Stop moaning about like a woman in a novel." This film was in fact based on a novel. Better than INTERMEZZO, but nowhere as good as HUMORESQUE. [TCM]
Charles Boyer is a struggling composer living in a boarding house; when his latest dissonant concert music is played to negative reviews in London, he has a big hissy fit leading to him smash his piano, so he heads off to the Swiss chalet of old friend Montagu Love to recover. He basks in the adoration of Love’s daughters, especially bubbly teenager Joan Fontaine (at right with Boyer). Love sympathizes with Boyer, but chastises him, telling him he’s "ashamed of melody," and encourages him to work on one of his short, lovely throwaway tunes which has caught Fontaine's attention. Boyer is also told that he will learn to write truly great music only after he learns to cry. Fontaine, who has a heart condition, clearly has a crush on Boyer, and they spend some idyllic times together in the mountains, but after Love dies, the girls are put in the care of their uncle (Charles Coburn).Time passes; the girls are taken to England for schooling and Boyer marries Alexis Smith, Coburn’s daughter. Up to this point, the film has played out like a romantic comedy, but things take a melodramatic turn here and we get a series of emotionally charged conversations between Boyer and Fontaine (who is completely in love with him), between Boyer and Smith (who are having marital problems), between Smith and Coburn (he knows she's not happy), and between Fontaine and Smith (she knows Fontaine's in love with her husband). Boyer finally has an emotional breakthrough when he realizes he's in love with Fontaine, cries, and is able to flesh out his throwaway melody into a symphonic "tone poem" which becomes a huge success when it is played in concert. Fontaine, whose heart weakness spells are increasing, listens to the piece over the radio in ecstasy, but…, well, heart conditions being what they are in movies, the ecstasy is short-lived.
This movie had been out of circulation due to copyright problems for over 50 years and had become something of a Holy Grail for classic movie buffs, so inevitably it's a bit disappointing to finally see it and realize it's just an average romantic melodrama, on the order of other such films set in the world of classical music (INTERMEZZO, HUMORESQUE). Fontaine gives a good performance; she never seems as young as she's supposed to be, but that's a good thing because it would be a bit too creepy to have a real 14-year-old be the romantic object of the mid-40s Boyer. I'm not a big fan of Boyer but he's quite good here, with just the right doses of egocentrism and tenderness. There are some fine supporting players, but their plotlines aren't given enough attention for them to shine: in addition to Smith (pictured above with Fontaine) and Coburn, there's Brenda Marshall as the oldest daughter who, because she dates around, has the reputation of having "gone bad"; Peter Lorre as her off-and-on lover; Dame May Whitty as a high society lady; and Eduardo Ciannelli as a family servant. The tone poem "Tomorrow" was written by Erich Wolfgang Korngold and has taken on a life of its own outside the film. My favorite line, delivered by Coburn to Smith: "Stop moaning about like a woman in a novel." This film was in fact based on a novel. Better than INTERMEZZO, but nowhere as good as HUMORESQUE. [TCM]Tuesday, December 13, 2011
THE MAN WITH TWO FACES (1934)
Mary Astor is making a return to the stage after suffering a nervous breakdown when her husband (Louis Calhern) was reported killed in San Francisco—he was a rotten bastard but he had some kind of strange, almost hypnotic, power over her. Now she's healthy and happy and has the lead in a play that's a hit in its out-of-town tryout; she's acting with her famous brother (Edward G. Robinson), she's friendly with the author (John Eldredge), she's dating the producer (Ricardo Cortez), and she's living in her rich aunt’s mansion. Suddenly, on the night they decide to take the play to Broadway, Calhern shows up, alive and as much of a bastard as ever. Astor immediately falls under his power again and plans for the show appear to be scotched until a French investor arrives wanting to buy Calhern's half of the show from him—ideally, this would give him enough money to clear out of Astor's life and let her get back to acting. But after a meeting with the investor, Calhern is found dead. Everyone in Astor's life is happy but the police still want to find out who did it, and they think it's fishy that the French investor has simply vanished. Who else might be involved?
This old-fashioned melodrama is based on a hit play by George S. Kaufman & Alexander Woollcott called The Dark Tower (which is the name given to the play-within-the-movie) and, though the film adaptation is not especially stagy, the impact of the climax of the play is, I would think, dependent upon a theater audience not being able to see everything up close, and of course, movies tend to be dependent on the opposite: clarity and close-ups. I won't give any spoilers, but a good bit of tension is dissipated here because film audiences will know what’s happening long before a play audience would (the trick involves a character in disguise). Still, it is fun to see things play out to an ending which is clear-cut but with an ambiguous shading or two—the Production Code wouldn't allow the killer to get away without punishment, unlike in the original play. All the actors are fine, particularly Louis Calhern who seems to relish playing an out-and-villain who would certainly be twirling his mustache if he had one. The one weak link is Mary Astor; she's fine as the carefree actress, but as soon as she falls under Calhern's power, she's basically playing a zombie. Also of note: Mae Clarke as a bad actress and David Landau as a cop who ends up wishing he didn't have to make the arrest he will after the fadeout. (Pictured above are Cortez, Robinson, Astor and Calhern) [TCM]
Mary Astor is making a return to the stage after suffering a nervous breakdown when her husband (Louis Calhern) was reported killed in San Francisco—he was a rotten bastard but he had some kind of strange, almost hypnotic, power over her. Now she's healthy and happy and has the lead in a play that's a hit in its out-of-town tryout; she's acting with her famous brother (Edward G. Robinson), she's friendly with the author (John Eldredge), she's dating the producer (Ricardo Cortez), and she's living in her rich aunt’s mansion. Suddenly, on the night they decide to take the play to Broadway, Calhern shows up, alive and as much of a bastard as ever. Astor immediately falls under his power again and plans for the show appear to be scotched until a French investor arrives wanting to buy Calhern's half of the show from him—ideally, this would give him enough money to clear out of Astor's life and let her get back to acting. But after a meeting with the investor, Calhern is found dead. Everyone in Astor's life is happy but the police still want to find out who did it, and they think it's fishy that the French investor has simply vanished. Who else might be involved?This old-fashioned melodrama is based on a hit play by George S. Kaufman & Alexander Woollcott called The Dark Tower (which is the name given to the play-within-the-movie) and, though the film adaptation is not especially stagy, the impact of the climax of the play is, I would think, dependent upon a theater audience not being able to see everything up close, and of course, movies tend to be dependent on the opposite: clarity and close-ups. I won't give any spoilers, but a good bit of tension is dissipated here because film audiences will know what’s happening long before a play audience would (the trick involves a character in disguise). Still, it is fun to see things play out to an ending which is clear-cut but with an ambiguous shading or two—the Production Code wouldn't allow the killer to get away without punishment, unlike in the original play. All the actors are fine, particularly Louis Calhern who seems to relish playing an out-and-villain who would certainly be twirling his mustache if he had one. The one weak link is Mary Astor; she's fine as the carefree actress, but as soon as she falls under Calhern's power, she's basically playing a zombie. Also of note: Mae Clarke as a bad actress and David Landau as a cop who ends up wishing he didn't have to make the arrest he will after the fadeout. (Pictured above are Cortez, Robinson, Astor and Calhern) [TCM]
Tuesday, December 06, 2011
STRANGE BARGAIN (1949)
This short B-film feels like a cross between a TV show and a movie, specifically Father Knows Best crossed with Double Indemnity. It begins in sit-com land around the suburban breakfast table with Dad (Jeffrey Lynn), Mom (Martha Scott), and the two kids. When the kids go off to school, conversation gets around to the problems the couple is having making ends meet. She talks him into asking his boss (Richard Gaines) for a raise, but as it happens, Gaines tells Lynn that he's about to be let go—the company is in dire financial straits. Over drinks that evening, Gaines makes Lynn a proposition: Gaines plans to kill himself so his family can get his life insurance money, but he asks Lynn to come to the house that night after the fact to shoot a gun through the window to make it like murder and robbery so the insurance company will pay out. Gaines offers Lynn $10,000 so Lynn reluctantly agrees. The plan goes off alright, but when the police start suspecting Gaines' business partner (Henry O'Neill), who had been arguing with Gaines recently, Lynn doesn't know what to do: if he clears O'Neill, he could be arrested on a felony charge and Gaines's family will be destitute; if he remains silent, an innocent man might be charged with murder. But as the cops keep investigating, it starts to look like it might not have been suicide after all.
Though blandly directed, the plot is compelling enough to keep your attention for 70 minutes. Lynn, typically a supporting actor, is a big zero in the lead role, and Scott's character is underdeveloped, so that I ended up not caring what happened to the two of them, but Gaines (who had a small role in DOUBLE INDEMNITY as the clueless head honcho at the insurance company) is good, and even better is Harry Morgan (pictured above, on the left with Lynn in the back seat) who enters halfway through as the police inspector who solves the case (he's given a limp and a cane, though they serve no plot purpose). Katherine Emery is fine as the widow, and Michael Chapin, who plays Lynn's son, is the real-life brother of Lauren Chapin, who played "Kitten" on, to bring this review full circle, Father Knows Best. [TCM] (Note: Tomorrow, I'm off for the Turner Classic Movie cruise, so there'll no reviews for a week or so.)
This short B-film feels like a cross between a TV show and a movie, specifically Father Knows Best crossed with Double Indemnity. It begins in sit-com land around the suburban breakfast table with Dad (Jeffrey Lynn), Mom (Martha Scott), and the two kids. When the kids go off to school, conversation gets around to the problems the couple is having making ends meet. She talks him into asking his boss (Richard Gaines) for a raise, but as it happens, Gaines tells Lynn that he's about to be let go—the company is in dire financial straits. Over drinks that evening, Gaines makes Lynn a proposition: Gaines plans to kill himself so his family can get his life insurance money, but he asks Lynn to come to the house that night after the fact to shoot a gun through the window to make it like murder and robbery so the insurance company will pay out. Gaines offers Lynn $10,000 so Lynn reluctantly agrees. The plan goes off alright, but when the police start suspecting Gaines' business partner (Henry O'Neill), who had been arguing with Gaines recently, Lynn doesn't know what to do: if he clears O'Neill, he could be arrested on a felony charge and Gaines's family will be destitute; if he remains silent, an innocent man might be charged with murder. But as the cops keep investigating, it starts to look like it might not have been suicide after all.Though blandly directed, the plot is compelling enough to keep your attention for 70 minutes. Lynn, typically a supporting actor, is a big zero in the lead role, and Scott's character is underdeveloped, so that I ended up not caring what happened to the two of them, but Gaines (who had a small role in DOUBLE INDEMNITY as the clueless head honcho at the insurance company) is good, and even better is Harry Morgan (pictured above, on the left with Lynn in the back seat) who enters halfway through as the police inspector who solves the case (he's given a limp and a cane, though they serve no plot purpose). Katherine Emery is fine as the widow, and Michael Chapin, who plays Lynn's son, is the real-life brother of Lauren Chapin, who played "Kitten" on, to bring this review full circle, Father Knows Best. [TCM] (Note: Tomorrow, I'm off for the Turner Classic Movie cruise, so there'll no reviews for a week or so.)
Sunday, December 04, 2011
WOLF OF NEW YORK (1940)
There's a crime wave going on and the DA (Jerome Cowan) is being blamed for failing to get convictions; he can't beat powerful lawyer Edmund Lowe, known as the Wolf of New York, who keeps getting crooks off in court. Lowe's former secretary (Rose Hobart), daughter of a police inspector, left his employ and now works in Cowan's office, though she and Lowe are still friendly. One of the biggest crooks of all is James Stephenson (pictured at right), investment banker by day, dealer in stolen bonds by night. When one of Stephenson's men is arrested during a robbery, Lowe is hired to defend him and uses an underhanded trick to get the jury to find the man not guilty. Soon, Hobart's father gets a break in a case against Stephenson, thanks to baby-faced Maurice Murphy, an ex-con gone straight whom Lowe has taken under his wing. When Stephenson has the police inspector killed, he frames Murphy who, though defended by Lowe, is found guilty and executed. Later, thanks to a deathbed confession by another con, Cowan realizes that an innocent man has been put to death and resigns. Upset over his inability to save Murphy, Lowe starts drinking and giving up cases, but soon Hobart gets the governor to appoint Lowe DA, and Lowe gets a chance to get the goods on Stephenson.
This mild B-crime film could have used a rewrite (too much narrative, and too much of it related as background exposition) and better leads, but the supporting cast is fun. The urbane Stephenson, who would have his big breakthrough later that year as Bette Davis' lawyer in THE LETTER, is the main reason to watch, though Cowan is fine in his few scenes. Murphy (at left) makes a convincing patsy, and Ben Weldon provides comic relief as a henchman. In fact, the comic lines are better than average here. I'm not a fan of the wooden Lowe, though he comes off a little better here than usual, but Hobart is deadly dull, and the two have no chemistry at all. [TCM]
There's a crime wave going on and the DA (Jerome Cowan) is being blamed for failing to get convictions; he can't beat powerful lawyer Edmund Lowe, known as the Wolf of New York, who keeps getting crooks off in court. Lowe's former secretary (Rose Hobart), daughter of a police inspector, left his employ and now works in Cowan's office, though she and Lowe are still friendly. One of the biggest crooks of all is James Stephenson (pictured at right), investment banker by day, dealer in stolen bonds by night. When one of Stephenson's men is arrested during a robbery, Lowe is hired to defend him and uses an underhanded trick to get the jury to find the man not guilty. Soon, Hobart's father gets a break in a case against Stephenson, thanks to baby-faced Maurice Murphy, an ex-con gone straight whom Lowe has taken under his wing. When Stephenson has the police inspector killed, he frames Murphy who, though defended by Lowe, is found guilty and executed. Later, thanks to a deathbed confession by another con, Cowan realizes that an innocent man has been put to death and resigns. Upset over his inability to save Murphy, Lowe starts drinking and giving up cases, but soon Hobart gets the governor to appoint Lowe DA, and Lowe gets a chance to get the goods on Stephenson.This mild B-crime film could have used a rewrite (too much narrative, and too much of it related as background exposition) and better leads, but the supporting cast is fun. The urbane Stephenson, who would have his big breakthrough later that year as Bette Davis' lawyer in THE LETTER, is the main reason to watch, though Cowan is fine in his few scenes. Murphy (at left) makes a convincing patsy, and Ben Weldon provides comic relief as a henchman. In fact, the comic lines are better than average here. I'm not a fan of the wooden Lowe, though he comes off a little better here than usual, but Hobart is deadly dull, and the two have no chemistry at all. [TCM]Thursday, December 01, 2011
4D MAN (1959)
Young, handsome research scientist Tony Nelson (James Congdon) is working with a force field device that would allow an object, like a pencil, to penetrate a material, like steel, without harming the material—something about molecules bonding and using up years worth of energy in just seconds. In his latest attempt, he gets the pencil through a block of metal, but in the process accidentally burns down the lab and gets fired. His older brother Scott (Robert Lansing) is a head researcher for an important scientific firm, and has just perfected a new, completely impenetrable metal called Cargonite, though the old scientist who runs the firm takes all the credit, leaving Scott a little dispirited. Luckily, he has his lovely assistant Linda (Lee Meriwether) to comfort him, but when Tony arrives asking for a job, Linda and Tony hit it off, leaving poor Scott in the lurch. Tony continues working on his force field after hours and Scott keeps brooding; then one night, after Linda gives the Scott the brushoff, Scott breaks into Tony's work locker and starts messing with the device. Surprise: he manages to push his hand through a solid metal block and pull it back out, leaving no marks. Soon, simply through the strength of his brain waves, he can turn this power on and off without the device. The problem: every time he does this, he ages some 10 or 20 years, and can only get back his youth by reaching into a living person and stealing his or her life force, which leads to the victim's quick aging and death. Scott slowly loses his sanity, going on a binge of theft and murder; can Tony and Linda stop him?
This B-film from the director of THE BLOB is an interesting attempt at a "Thou shalt not meddle in God’s domain" story, but the screenplay has a few too many ideas for the film's budget. For example, the way the device works is vague, and when the idea of human will power affecting it comes into play (first with Tony, who mentions that he "willed" his first experiment to work), I was lost. The love triangle has potential, but Meriwether, though sexy, doesn't have much personality, and Congdon (pictured with Meriwether) is so much better looking and more dynamic than Lansing that there's just no contest. The role that the Cargonite material plays in the plot is mostly theoretical—the impenetrable object to Scott's irresistible force—though I think it's crucial to the downbeat but confusing ending. Still, the effects are quite good for a low budget film of the era, and the movie has a rich palette of blues and flesh tones. Lansing is a little drab but gains strength as his character goes crazy, and Congdon is good-looking and intense. Familiar character actor Robert Strauss plays a fellow researcher who is Lansing's first victim, and 12-year-old Patty Duke has a small role. A shrill jazz score is interesting at first, but overused and unwelcome by the middle. [Netflix streaming]
Young, handsome research scientist Tony Nelson (James Congdon) is working with a force field device that would allow an object, like a pencil, to penetrate a material, like steel, without harming the material—something about molecules bonding and using up years worth of energy in just seconds. In his latest attempt, he gets the pencil through a block of metal, but in the process accidentally burns down the lab and gets fired. His older brother Scott (Robert Lansing) is a head researcher for an important scientific firm, and has just perfected a new, completely impenetrable metal called Cargonite, though the old scientist who runs the firm takes all the credit, leaving Scott a little dispirited. Luckily, he has his lovely assistant Linda (Lee Meriwether) to comfort him, but when Tony arrives asking for a job, Linda and Tony hit it off, leaving poor Scott in the lurch. Tony continues working on his force field after hours and Scott keeps brooding; then one night, after Linda gives the Scott the brushoff, Scott breaks into Tony's work locker and starts messing with the device. Surprise: he manages to push his hand through a solid metal block and pull it back out, leaving no marks. Soon, simply through the strength of his brain waves, he can turn this power on and off without the device. The problem: every time he does this, he ages some 10 or 20 years, and can only get back his youth by reaching into a living person and stealing his or her life force, which leads to the victim's quick aging and death. Scott slowly loses his sanity, going on a binge of theft and murder; can Tony and Linda stop him?This B-film from the director of THE BLOB is an interesting attempt at a "Thou shalt not meddle in God’s domain" story, but the screenplay has a few too many ideas for the film's budget. For example, the way the device works is vague, and when the idea of human will power affecting it comes into play (first with Tony, who mentions that he "willed" his first experiment to work), I was lost. The love triangle has potential, but Meriwether, though sexy, doesn't have much personality, and Congdon (pictured with Meriwether) is so much better looking and more dynamic than Lansing that there's just no contest. The role that the Cargonite material plays in the plot is mostly theoretical—the impenetrable object to Scott's irresistible force—though I think it's crucial to the downbeat but confusing ending. Still, the effects are quite good for a low budget film of the era, and the movie has a rich palette of blues and flesh tones. Lansing is a little drab but gains strength as his character goes crazy, and Congdon is good-looking and intense. Familiar character actor Robert Strauss plays a fellow researcher who is Lansing's first victim, and 12-year-old Patty Duke has a small role. A shrill jazz score is interesting at first, but overused and unwelcome by the middle. [Netflix streaming]Tuesday, November 29, 2011
PREHISTORIC WOMEN (1967)
David is a handsome British safari guide who heads into dangerous territory to finish off a leopard that his middle-aged client only wounded. The land, marked by tree carvings of a white rhinoceros, in inhabited by a tribe that is cursed by spirits of the past, and that insists on killing any white men who trespass because it was white folks that brought on all their troubles by killing off the rhinos. Sure enough, after David kills the leopard, he is captured by the tribe who put on a big dance before they sacrifice him in front of a huge statue of a white rhino. However, as soon as David touches the rhino's horn, time freezes, the rocks split, and David finds himself in the past, among a tribe of fierce (as in, they wear false eyelashes and have fabulous hair) Amazon women. The hot brunettes, led by Kari, have enslaved the hot blondes, led by Saria, and the grungy men (no leader) who seem to have wandered in from some other time and place altogether and who were responsible for past enslavement and destruction. One hot blonde gets sacrificed monthly to appease the rhino god, or something. Kari wants to make David her lover and co-ruler, but he's fallen for Saria, and eventually, with David's help, an uprising against Kari is successful.
This is another of Hammer’s mid-60s forays into exotic adventure-fantasy (see SHE) and lovers of the campier aspects of these films will like this one. Beauty queen Martine Beswick is the main reason to watch this; she bites into her role with gusto, and by playing it mostly straight, adds to the camp value of the film. Her best scene has her writhing about, in a skimpy bikini-loincloth, on her throne, trying to entice David into sharing her pleasures. Michael Latimer as David is attractive but not the heroic-hunk type, and he plays most emotions by scowling or looking off-camera, but you get used to him. Hungarian actress Edina Ronay is the very 1960s-looking Saria. There is a credit for choreography, and there are indeed several tribal dances that are actually kind of fun to watch. Actor and playwright Steven Berkoff, known for his villainous roles in films like Octopussy and Beverly Hills Cop, has a one-line bit at the end. Its B-budget means it was filmed on cheap sets, but it all looks pretty good in widescreen format. [TCM]
David is a handsome British safari guide who heads into dangerous territory to finish off a leopard that his middle-aged client only wounded. The land, marked by tree carvings of a white rhinoceros, in inhabited by a tribe that is cursed by spirits of the past, and that insists on killing any white men who trespass because it was white folks that brought on all their troubles by killing off the rhinos. Sure enough, after David kills the leopard, he is captured by the tribe who put on a big dance before they sacrifice him in front of a huge statue of a white rhino. However, as soon as David touches the rhino's horn, time freezes, the rocks split, and David finds himself in the past, among a tribe of fierce (as in, they wear false eyelashes and have fabulous hair) Amazon women. The hot brunettes, led by Kari, have enslaved the hot blondes, led by Saria, and the grungy men (no leader) who seem to have wandered in from some other time and place altogether and who were responsible for past enslavement and destruction. One hot blonde gets sacrificed monthly to appease the rhino god, or something. Kari wants to make David her lover and co-ruler, but he's fallen for Saria, and eventually, with David's help, an uprising against Kari is successful.This is another of Hammer’s mid-60s forays into exotic adventure-fantasy (see SHE) and lovers of the campier aspects of these films will like this one. Beauty queen Martine Beswick is the main reason to watch this; she bites into her role with gusto, and by playing it mostly straight, adds to the camp value of the film. Her best scene has her writhing about, in a skimpy bikini-loincloth, on her throne, trying to entice David into sharing her pleasures. Michael Latimer as David is attractive but not the heroic-hunk type, and he plays most emotions by scowling or looking off-camera, but you get used to him. Hungarian actress Edina Ronay is the very 1960s-looking Saria. There is a credit for choreography, and there are indeed several tribal dances that are actually kind of fun to watch. Actor and playwright Steven Berkoff, known for his villainous roles in films like Octopussy and Beverly Hills Cop, has a one-line bit at the end. Its B-budget means it was filmed on cheap sets, but it all looks pretty good in widescreen format. [TCM]
Sunday, November 27, 2011
MASTER OF THE WORLD (1961)
It's a boring day in 1868 in Morgantown, Pennsylvania when suddenly a mountain, called the Great Eyrie, erupts and a man's booming voice begins intoning apocalyptic warnings. Some members of the Weldon Balloon Society decide to take a balloon up and check things out. The group consists of Henry Hull, a munitions manufacturer; his daughter (Mary Webster); her boyfriend (David Frankham); and Charles Bronson, a government scientist who is strong and silent and therefore by default the romantic hero. Their balloon is shot at by the airship Albatross, and its captain (Vincent Price) takes them on board. It turns out that Price is the one behind the shenanigans at the Eyrie; he has declared war against war, delivering ultimatums to world governments to give up their armies and weapons or be destroyed. The captive group is witness to Price's bombing of British navy ships. They're torn between action and passivity; should they actively try to stop Price or make the best of their imprisonment? There is some infighting between the gentlemanly Frankham and the realistic Bronson, but when Bronson finally takes a stand, it might mean that all four of them will have to sacrifice themselves to stop Price.
This fantasy adventure is based on two novels by Jules Verne featuring the character of Captain Robur (Price). The film has its moments, but the American International budget was just too small to produce effective thrills and the cast is way too mild to bring about much excitement. Bronson, who would become an action hero in the 70s, plays a quiet, composed hero; we like him, but he's not very exciting. Webster is bland, so we never care about the halfhearted romantic triangle; Frankham shows some promise early on as an antagonist, but despite pulling off a very nasty trick against Bronson late in the movie, never really comes off as very threatening. Hull, on the verge of overacting, seems to be in a whole different movie, and the usually reliable Price seems rather tired. The musical score is inappropriately peppy. Vito Scotti provides some mild comic relief as a cook on the airship, and I rather enjoyed the hunky, blond, and often shirtless airship pilot—I think he was played by Richard Harrison. In the last section, when Price tries to stop a desert war, the pace does pick up a bit, but overall this is a disappointment. [DVD]
It's a boring day in 1868 in Morgantown, Pennsylvania when suddenly a mountain, called the Great Eyrie, erupts and a man's booming voice begins intoning apocalyptic warnings. Some members of the Weldon Balloon Society decide to take a balloon up and check things out. The group consists of Henry Hull, a munitions manufacturer; his daughter (Mary Webster); her boyfriend (David Frankham); and Charles Bronson, a government scientist who is strong and silent and therefore by default the romantic hero. Their balloon is shot at by the airship Albatross, and its captain (Vincent Price) takes them on board. It turns out that Price is the one behind the shenanigans at the Eyrie; he has declared war against war, delivering ultimatums to world governments to give up their armies and weapons or be destroyed. The captive group is witness to Price's bombing of British navy ships. They're torn between action and passivity; should they actively try to stop Price or make the best of their imprisonment? There is some infighting between the gentlemanly Frankham and the realistic Bronson, but when Bronson finally takes a stand, it might mean that all four of them will have to sacrifice themselves to stop Price.This fantasy adventure is based on two novels by Jules Verne featuring the character of Captain Robur (Price). The film has its moments, but the American International budget was just too small to produce effective thrills and the cast is way too mild to bring about much excitement. Bronson, who would become an action hero in the 70s, plays a quiet, composed hero; we like him, but he's not very exciting. Webster is bland, so we never care about the halfhearted romantic triangle; Frankham shows some promise early on as an antagonist, but despite pulling off a very nasty trick against Bronson late in the movie, never really comes off as very threatening. Hull, on the verge of overacting, seems to be in a whole different movie, and the usually reliable Price seems rather tired. The musical score is inappropriately peppy. Vito Scotti provides some mild comic relief as a cook on the airship, and I rather enjoyed the hunky, blond, and often shirtless airship pilot—I think he was played by Richard Harrison. In the last section, when Price tries to stop a desert war, the pace does pick up a bit, but overall this is a disappointment. [DVD]
Saturday, November 26, 2011
SHE (1935)
This earlier version of Haggard’s "She" has a good reputation and does have its moments, but isn't quite as much dumb fun as the later film. It also changes the plot details considerably. In this film, Leo is set on the trail of eternal youth by his dying uncle; it seems that 500 years ago, a relative of theirs named John went off to the great frozen north in search of a mystical Flame of Eternal Life and may have found it, though he never returned. Leo and his friend Horace head off for the Shuko Barrier in the Arctic, and are joined by a gruff trader and his daughter Tanya—she takes the place of the more exotic Ustane from the book. Once they get to the mysterious land past the Barrier, the action is largely the same as in the later film, though here, Leo turns out to look exactly like his ancestor John, whose embalmed body is still intact. Ayehsa's first appearance, from behind a wall of smoke, is genuinely thrilling. There is a long, heavily choreographed ritual dance that looks like it might have inspired a similar number in DeMille's TEN COMMANDMENTS. Unlike Ustane, Tanya survives, but the rest of the story follows the same course as the '65 film.
Randolph Scott is Leo, and you would think he would have all the qualities needed for the perfect adventure hero, but he seems a bit detached, though he gets better near the end as he falls under Ayesha's influence. Helen Gahagan (above, in her only movie role before she entered politics and became a Congresswoman) is dull and monotone, and lookswise can't hold a candle to Andress. Nigel Bruce provides some fun as the stuffy, mildly amusing Horace, and Gustav von Seyffertitz has the Christopher Lee role, but plays it without much gusto. The rather drab Helen Mack (pictured with Scott) is Tanya, and she irritatingly pronounces Leo "Lay-o" throughout. The film is in black and white, but the set design of the Arctic and the city (which looked like it should have been in Maxfield Parrish colors) is nice. The flame effect is better here than in the '65 film. The final scene, with Leo, Tanya and Horace gathered around a cozy fireplace back in England, is sappy and wrong. Both films are worth watching, though if you can only find time for one, I'd pick the Hammer version, and the book is still worth reading. [DVD]
This earlier version of Haggard’s "She" has a good reputation and does have its moments, but isn't quite as much dumb fun as the later film. It also changes the plot details considerably. In this film, Leo is set on the trail of eternal youth by his dying uncle; it seems that 500 years ago, a relative of theirs named John went off to the great frozen north in search of a mystical Flame of Eternal Life and may have found it, though he never returned. Leo and his friend Horace head off for the Shuko Barrier in the Arctic, and are joined by a gruff trader and his daughter Tanya—she takes the place of the more exotic Ustane from the book. Once they get to the mysterious land past the Barrier, the action is largely the same as in the later film, though here, Leo turns out to look exactly like his ancestor John, whose embalmed body is still intact. Ayehsa's first appearance, from behind a wall of smoke, is genuinely thrilling. There is a long, heavily choreographed ritual dance that looks like it might have inspired a similar number in DeMille's TEN COMMANDMENTS. Unlike Ustane, Tanya survives, but the rest of the story follows the same course as the '65 film.Randolph Scott is Leo, and you would think he would have all the qualities needed for the perfect adventure hero, but he seems a bit detached, though he gets better near the end as he falls under Ayesha's influence. Helen Gahagan (above, in her only movie role before she entered politics and became a Congresswoman) is dull and monotone, and lookswise can't hold a candle to Andress. Nigel Bruce provides some fun as the stuffy, mildly amusing Horace, and Gustav von Seyffertitz has the Christopher Lee role, but plays it without much gusto. The rather drab Helen Mack (pictured with Scott) is Tanya, and she irritatingly pronounces Leo "Lay-o" throughout. The film is in black and white, but the set design of the Arctic and the city (which looked like it should have been in Maxfield Parrish colors) is nice. The flame effect is better here than in the '65 film. The final scene, with Leo, Tanya and Horace gathered around a cozy fireplace back in England, is sappy and wrong. Both films are worth watching, though if you can only find time for one, I'd pick the Hammer version, and the book is still worth reading. [DVD]Friday, Nove
SHE (1965)
H. Rider Haggard’s famous adventure/fantasy novel from 1887 is considered one of the earliest of the "lost world" novels, in which adventurers discover a land that has been hidden from civilization. It has been filmed several times, but two versions (from 1935 and 1965) are the most common. I'll start with the '65 version from Hammer Films, which is by far the most faithful of the two. We meet three British soldiers heading home from WWI in Palestine: the older Horace, the young handsome Leo, and the working-class Job. In a nightclub, the lovely Arab Ustane flirts with Leo, but when they leave the club, she leads him into an ambush. He is taken to see the ravishing Ayesha who shows him his startling resemblance to an amulet with the likeness of the long-dead high priest Killikrates, her former lover. She asks Leo to journey across the desert to the secret city of Kuma which she rules, and if he proves himself worthy, she will take him as her lover and co-ruler. Leo and his friends head off, undergo several trials (the slashing of their water bags, an attack by bandits) and finally arrive near the city where they meet up again with Ustane (who has by now taken a liking to Leo). When the suspicious natives decide to sacrifice Leo, Billali, chief assistant to Ayesha, arrives with his men. They are taken to Kuma, a city entirely inside a mountain, where they learn that Ayesha, aka She Who Must Be Obeyed, is hundreds of years old; she has kept her youth by bathing in the Flame of Eternal Life. Convinced that Leo is the reincarnation of Killikrates, she wants him to bathe in the flame as well, though Ustane and Horace aren’t so sure that’s a good idea. Leo begins to fall under Ayesha's spell, and finally does enter the Flame, but bad things happen when Ayesha takes a second dip for herself.
This is adventure done on the cheap, but for a Hammer movie, it doesn’t look bad with some effective use of matte painting effects. The journey drags in spots, but things pick up once they get to Kuma. Swiss bombshell Ursula Andress doesn’t exactly stretch her acting chops (and, to be fair, all her dialogue is dubbed, which never helps) but she looks exactly right as the cold, demanding Queen. John Richardson also looks the part as the hunky blue-eyed, golden-haired hero and is marginally better in the acting department, but is never as commanding as he should be. Old pros Peter Cushing (as Horace) and Christopher Lee (as Billali) steal their scenes easily. Bernard Cribbins as Job has little to do. The nicest touch, and one that I think the filmmakers added, is having Leo actually stand in the Flame and become eternally young, which could have been a nice jumping-off point for a series; there was a
H. Rider Haggard’s famous adventure/fantasy novel from 1887 is considered one of the earliest of the "lost world" novels, in which adventurers discover a land that has been hidden from civilization. It has been filmed several times, but two versions (from 1935 and 1965) are the most common. I'll start with the '65 version from Hammer Films, which is by far the most faithful of the two. We meet three British soldiers heading home from WWI in Palestine: the older Horace, the young handsome Leo, and the working-class Job. In a nightclub, the lovely Arab Ustane flirts with Leo, but when they leave the club, she leads him into an ambush. He is taken to see the ravishing Ayesha who shows him his startling resemblance to an amulet with the likeness of the long-dead high priest Killikrates, her former lover. She asks Leo to journey across the desert to the secret city of Kuma which she rules, and if he proves himself worthy, she will take him as her lover and co-ruler. Leo and his friends head off, undergo several trials (the slashing of their water bags, an attack by bandits) and finally arrive near the city where they meet up again with Ustane (who has by now taken a liking to Leo). When the suspicious natives decide to sacrifice Leo, Billali, chief assistant to Ayesha, arrives with his men. They are taken to Kuma, a city entirely inside a mountain, where they learn that Ayesha, aka She Who Must Be Obeyed, is hundreds of years old; she has kept her youth by bathing in the Flame of Eternal Life. Convinced that Leo is the reincarnation of Killikrates, she wants him to bathe in the flame as well, though Ustane and Horace aren’t so sure that’s a good idea. Leo begins to fall under Ayesha's spell, and finally does enter the Flame, but bad things happen when Ayesha takes a second dip for herself.This is adventure done on the cheap, but for a Hammer movie, it doesn’t look bad with some effective use of matte painting effects. The journey drags in spots, but things pick up once they get to Kuma. Swiss bombshell Ursula Andress doesn’t exactly stretch her acting chops (and, to be fair, all her dialogue is dubbed, which never helps) but she looks exactly right as the cold, demanding Queen. John Richardson also looks the part as the hunky blue-eyed, golden-haired hero and is marginally better in the acting department, but is never as commanding as he should be. Old pros Peter Cushing (as Horace) and Christopher Lee (as Billali) steal their scenes easily. Bernard Cribbins as Job has little to do. The nicest touch, and one that I think the filmmakers added, is having Leo actually stand in the Flame and become eternally young, which could have been a nice jumping-off point for a series; there was a 
No comments:
Post a Comment